IN THE HEAT OF BATTLE, FAR BELOW, SCORMETHEUS LAY PINNED TO THE GROUND, HIS BODY BATTERED AND BROKEN, BUT HIS DEFIANT SPIRIT REMAINED INTACT. HE SNEERED UP AT HIS FATHER, VOICE DRIPPING WITH MOCKERY, "YOU CAN'T KEEP IGNORING THIS, PRETENDING TO BE BLIND AND DEAF TO THE WORLD'S SUFFERING. CAN YOU?"
THE SAGE'S EYES BLAZED WITH FURY. HE DIDN'T RESPOND WITH WORDS, ONLY WITH A SEETHING GLARE THAT SPOKE VOLUMES. HE WASN'T ANGRY BECAUSE SCORMETHEUS WAS WRONG. HE WAS ENRAGED BECAUSE SCORMETHEUS WAS RIGHT. EVEN NOW, WITH THE WORLD TEARING APART AT THE SEAMS, THE SAGE, THE SCHOLAR WHO WAS HAILED AS THE WISEST OF MEN, COULD SEE THE END APPROACHING.
BUT DID THAT MAKE HIM WRONG? OR PERHAPS HE SIMPLY SAW FARTHER THAN ANYONE ELSE COULD?
"FOOL!" THE SAGE SPAT, HIS VOICE THUNDEROUS. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE FUTURE? WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO QUESTION ME ABOUT THE END OF DAYS? I'VE SEEN COUNTLESS APOCALYPSES, ALL IN THE PURSUIT OF A BETTER FUTURE!"
THE RAGE IN HIS VOICE ABRUPTLY VANISHED, REPLACED BY A CHILLING CALM. THE SAGE LIFTED HIS GAZE TO THE HEAVENS AS IF SEARCHING FOR SOMETHING ONLY HE COULD SEE. HIS EXPRESSION SHIFTED, PITY MIXED WITH DISDAIN, AS HE TURNED BACK TO SCORMETHEUS.
"YOU THINK THE GODS TOLD YOU EVERYTHING? THOSE ARROGANT BEINGS HAVE ALWAYS TREATED THIS WORLD AS THEIR TOY, MANIPULATING US FOR THEIR AMUSEMENT. THEY DON'T CARE ABOUT US. THEY DON'T CARE ABOUT THIS WORLD'S SURVIVAL. THEY ONLY CARE ABOUT…" THE SAGE'S WORDS FALTERED, HIS VOICE MUFFLED BY A POWER GREATER THAN HIS OWN. SOMETHING IN THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY WAS BLOCKING HIS SPEECH, PREVENTING HIM FROM REVEALING THE FULL TRUTH.
SCORMETHEUS STARED, STUNNED. THE SAGE'S WORDS HUNG IN THE AIR, SOME PARTS INCOMPREHENSIBLE, AS IF THE UNIVERSE ITSELF HAD FORBIDDEN THEIR UTTERANCE. WAS THERE SOMETHING MORE? ANOTHER HIDDEN LAYER TO ALL OF THIS? BUT IN THIS MOMENT, WITH THE BATTLE RAGING AROUND THEM, THERE WAS NO TIME TO PONDER DEEPER TRUTHS. THE WORLD WAS COLLAPSING. THE BATTLE HAD TO BE WON NOW, OR NOTHING ELSE WOULD MATTER.
MEANWHILE, BASTIAN'S MIND SHARPENED, FINDING THE KEY MOMENT HE HAD BEEN WAITING FOR. HIS EYES LOCKED ONTO THE INSTANT THE BRAM THE GREAT, A COLOSSAL BEING OF UNIMAGINABLE POWER, LAUNCHED ITS SELF-SACRIFICING ATTACK ON THE SAGE.
AT THAT VERY SECOND, SCORMETHEUS'S REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVED.
"BOOM!"
THE AIR SHOOK AS THE ALCHEMY TOWER ITSELF WAS BREACHED. A MASSIVE HOLE HAD BEEN TORN OPEN IN ITS SIDE, AND FROM THAT BREACH EMERGED A GIGANTIC WAR PUPPET, ITS ENORMOUS BODY HALF STUCK OUT OF THE TOWER. ITS CANNONS SWIVELED, UNLEASHING A HAIL OF ARTILLERY FIRE DIRECTLY AT ITS FORMER MASTER, THE SAGE.
THAT'S IT! BASTIAN'S HEART RACED. THIS WAS THE KEY, THE NEARLY INVINCIBLE SUPER WAR PUPPET, THE ONE WEAPON POWERFUL ENOUGH TO TURN THE TIDE OF THE BATTLE. AND THANKS TO HIS CONTROL OF THE TOWER OF ORIGIN, BASTIAN NOW HAD COMMAND OF IT.
"SCORMETHEUS!" BASTIAN'S VOICE BOOMED FROM THE WAR PUPPET, THE SOUND ECHOING ACROSS THE BATTLEFIELD. THIS WAS IT, THE MOMENT THEY HAD BEEN WAITING FOR. WITH THE WAR MACHINE PROVIDING COVER, SCORMETHEUS WASTED NO TIME. HE GATHERED EVERY OUNCE OF STRENGTH LEFT IN HIS BATTERED BODY AND LAUNCHED HIS COUNTERATTACK.
"NO MATTER WHAT THE REASONS ARE," BASTIAN THOUGHT GRIMLY, "IF WE DON'T WIN HERE, THE WORLD HAS NO FUTURE."
AS SCORMETHEUS CHARGED, BACKED BY THE COLOSSAL WAR PUPPET, THE FINAL CONFRONTATION BEGAN. THE FATE OF THE WORLD TEETERED ON THE EDGE OF A BLADE, AND BASTIAN KNEW THAT IF THEY FAILED NOW, THERE WOULD BE NOTHING LEFT TO SAVE.
"IT'S SUCH A FAMILIAR SCENE. IS EVERYTHING OVER?" BASTIAN MURMURED TO HIMSELF, HIS VOICE BARELY AUDIBLE AMID THE ETHEREAL SILENCE.
***
HE WONDERED IF DEATH WAS MERELY A FLEETING MOMENT.
WHEN HE OPENED HIS EYES AGAIN, HE FOUND HIMSELF STANDING IN THAT ALL-TOO-FAMILIAR PLACE, THOUGH HE COULDN'T RECALL HOW HE'D ARRIVED. IT WAS STILL THE ISLAND THAT BELONGED TO SOULS, AND BENEATH HIS FEET FLOWED THE RUSHING, INFINITE STYX RIVER. THE WATER HAD RISEN SO HIGH THAT IT LAPPED AT HIS FEET, A SIGHT THAT MADE BASTIAN SMILE WITH A MIX OF RELIEF AND JOY.
"THE LAST TIME I WAS HERE, SCORMETHEUS BROUGHT ME," HE REMINISCED. "BACK THEN, THE SEA OF THE UNDERWORLD WAS ALMOST DRY."
"THIS SHOULD BE A GOOD THING," HE WHISPERED, SHAKING HIS HEAD. YET UNCERTAINTY GNAWED AT HIM. WHAT WOULD HAPPEN NEXT? HE KNEW THAT SINCE HE HADN'T DIED OR FALLEN INTO THE STYX, SOMEONE HERE MUST HAVE THE ANSWERS HE SOUGHT.
"DEATH?" HE CALLED OUT TENTATIVELY.
AS HE WALKED ALONG THE WINDING PATH INTO THE TOWN TEEMING WITH THE UNDEAD, BASTIAN REALIZED HE WAS NO LONGER JUST A PASSERBY. THE STREETS WERE ALIVE, OR RATHER, FILLED, WITH SOULS GOING ABOUT THEIR GHOSTLY ROUTINES. NOT ONLY DID HE HAVE TO WEAVE THROUGH THE CROWDS, BUT HE ALSO FOUND HIMSELF RESPONDING TO THE NODS AND GREETINGS OF OTHER "PEOPLE."
"WAIT, THEY CAN SEE ME?" BASTIAN THOUGHT, A MIXTURE OF SURPRISE AND INTRIGUE WASHING OVER HIM. HE GLANCED DOWN AT HIS HANDS AND GASPED. THEY WERE TRANSLUCENT, SHIMMERING SOFTLY IN THE DIM LIGHT.
"AM I... ONE OF THEM NOW?"
HE REACHED OUT TO TOUCH A NEARBY WALL. HIS FINGERS MET SOLID STONE, YET HE COULD SEE RIGHT THROUGH HIS OWN HAND. MORE ASTONISHINGLY, HE COULD FEEL THE TEXTURE OF THE WALL, THE ROUGHNESS OF THE STONE BENEATH HIS FINGERTIPS.
"THIS IS THE TOWN OF THE DEAD," HE MUSED ALOUD. "AND I SEEM TO BE NO DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHER RESIDENTS."
AT THAT MOMENT, HIS EYES CAUGHT SOMETHING HE'D MISSED BEFORE: A BOUNDARY MARKER HALF-BURIED IN THE SOIL, ENGRAVED WITH THE WORDS "CITY OF HEROES."
"THE CITY OF HEROES," HE REPEATED. "THE CROSSROADS OF INFINITE WORLDS AND ENDLESS TIME, THE PLACE WHERE GREAT SOULS CONVERGE."
JUST THEN, A FAMILIAR VOICE BROKE THROUGH HIS THOUGHTS.
"HEY, BASTIAN, LONG TIME NO SEE," CALLED OUT A CHEERFUL TONE.
HE TURNED TO SEE A SNOWY OWL DESCENDING GRACEFULLY BEHIND HIM. AS IT LANDED, IT TRANSFORMED INTO A FAMILIAR SHADOWY FIGURE, HIS OLD COMPANION. HIS BODY WAS ALSO TRANSPARENT, JUST LIKE BASTIAN'S.
"LONG TIME NO SEE?" BASTIAN REPLIED, EYEBROWS FURROWED IN CONFUSION. "WHY DO YOU SAY THAT? DIDN'T WE JUST FINISH EVERYTHING?"
"OH, SO YOU'RE THE BASTIAN FROM BACK THEN?" THE FIGURE CHUCKLED. "A LOT HAS HAPPENED SINCE YOU 'LEFT.' I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING. TRUST ME, IT'S QUITE A TALE."
THEY BEGAN WALKING TOGETHER, THEIR FOOTSTEPS MAKING NO SOUND ON THE COBBLESTONE STREETS. AS THEY CONVERSED, THEY FOUND THEMSELVES APPROACHING A FAMILIAR SPOT, THE QUAINT LITTLE TAVERN THAT ONCE BELONGED TO THE ORIGINAL GOD OF DEATH.
BUT AS THEY NEARED, BOTH OF THEM STOPPED ABRUPTLY. THE GROUND BEFORE THEM HAD COLLAPSED, REVEALING A TWISTED, RING-SHAPED IRON PIPE. ICY WATER GUSHED FROM IT, FLOODING THE SURROUNDING AREA.
THEY STOOD IN STUNNED SILENCE.
"ISN'T THIS SCENE... A REFLECTION OF THE WORLD?" BASTIAN WHISPERED, A SENSE OF FOREBODING CREEPING INTO HIS VOICE.
HIS COMPANION NODDED SOLEMNLY. "IT SEEMS THE BOUNDARIES BETWEEN REALMS ARE UNRAVELING," HE REPLIED. "THE WORLDS ARE COLLIDING, AND TIME IS LOSING ITS GRIP."
BASTIAN TOOK A DEEP BREATH, TRYING TO PROCESS THE GRAVITY OF THE SITUATION. "SO WHAT HAPPENS NOW?" HE ASKED.
"WE HAVE TO FIND OUT WHAT'S CAUSING THIS AND STOP IT," THE SHADOWY FIGURE SAID FIRMLY. "AND WE'LL NEED ALL THE HELP WE CAN GET, FROM EVERY SOUL IN THE CITY OF HEROES."
A NEWFOUND DETERMINATION FILLED BASTIAN. "THEN LET'S NOT WASTE ANY TIME."
TOGETHER, THEY TURNED AWAY FROM THE RUINED TAVERN AND HEADED DEEPER INTO THE CITY, READY TO FACE WHATEVER CHALLENGES LAY AHEAD.
"WHAT AN IRONIC SCENE UNFOLDING RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES," BASTIAN MURMURED, A MIX OF BITTERNESS AND HELPLESSNESS COLORING HIS TONE. JUST A FEW STEPS AWAY, A MAN AND A BIRD, THEIR PAST SELVES, WERE LEAVING THE BAR WITH JOYFUL EXPRESSIONS. THEY CHATTED ANIMATEDLY ABOUT WAYS TO SAVE THE WORLD, THEIR EYES GLEAMING WITH THE NAIVE BELIEF THAT HOPE WAS WITHIN REACH.
"LOOK AT THEM," BASTIAN SIGHED. "SO BLISSFULLY UNAWARE OF WHAT'S TO COME."
HIS COMPANION NODDED SOLEMNLY. "IF ONLY WE COULD WARN THEM.