Arriving on the scene of destruction, Fast Hands noted the work of Flair and Knives with satisfaction. Evidence lay abound; strew all over the plains were the remains of the convoys and their guards. The smell of burning wood and burnt flesh was faint. In the plains with strong winds, such odors were quickly scattered away. Of the original six wagons and a caravan, only three wagons remain upright; two were smashed into bits and the last flipped onto its side. The caravan remained untouched, except that the wheels were gone. The caravan would not be moving anytime soon.
Most notable was the three in guard’s uniform in the center of the dirt road and two in driver’s uniform on top of a wagon.
The guards lay dead with frozen eyes staring at the heavens, a terror and pain filled expression forever on their face. Grayish white stuffs were oozing from their ears, their eyes, mouths and nose were bleeding non-stop.
“As usual, Good job Flair.” Fast Hands noted, reaching to his belt and unsheathing a 5 inch long dagger.
The drivers on the other hand, lay unmoving with huge gaping wounds all over their bodies, with a surprised look on their face. Looking closely, the wounds formed a Chinese word, “死”.
“As obsessed with Chinese calligraphy as ever, when will he believe me that it is impossible carving calligraphy with knives of air?” Fast Hands shook his head wryly, and then turn sharply upon an unsuspecting guard.
The guard, trying to sneak up on Fast Hands, barely had time to even register a shocked expression on his face before Fast Hands let loose his skills. All he could follow with his untrained eyes were a furry of blurred hands before Fast Hands turned his back on him and shrugged in a matter-of-fact way.
The guard suddenly felt extreme pain as all of his fingers dropped to the ground; closely follow by both of his wrists and then the skins of his arms all the way up to his elbows. Blood spurted madly for around 10 seconds before the guard started screaming, jerking about madly.
“Music’s on, and the party’s began. So where are the rest of the dancers?” Fast Hands commented, laughing on his own joke.
Just then, a loud ear-piercing scream burst out through the slight fog and caught the attention of Fast Hands. It was closely follow by another softer moan, then a loud scream of “Bitch!”
“Uh uh, Flair’s voice. I wondered what happened. ” Fast Hands thought uneasily. “They are ESPers. Nothing should have been able to hurt them.”
author's notes: Might be a bit boring to some. Please bear with it, i try to make it more interesting. I'm just giving depth to the story.
It was the year 1980, outskirts of Japan; a slight cloud covered the sky to the north. The moon was out, but half hidden by clouds. The winds were blowing fiercely from the northeast, sending waves over the tall grass. It suited the purpose of a lone figure in long trench coat and a hat pulled low, covering the face.
“Tch! Such a lovely weather and I’m out on a boring field mission. Nothing but sky meets earth on this desolate plain,” muttered the figure, stroking his carefully trimmed goatee.
“Not that I mind when it starts getting lively.” He added, after a quick grin.
Just then, a convoy of wagons could be seen in the distance, slowly plodding along what little dirt track the plain had. This sight in itself had nothing out of the ordinary; rather it could not have been more common in such places. However, the goods in the wagon were not to be taken lightly. The wagons were own by a smuggling syndicates and used to transport ancient relics. Most of the relics were useless; they were simply just things found in some ruins of an earlier civilization, save one.
A pendant that emits psychic energy waves. An oddity if there ever was one. The mission of the lone man was to acquire that particular pendant. Its value as a normal relic was not high, the design was rather plain and it seemed to originate from an unknown ruin. However, its value to the man and his organization was priceless. Inset with a dozen small sapphires roses around an engraving of a hawk, it gives an impression of being at most the property of the wife a rather wealthy merchant.
“Fast Hands! Target in sight.” A micro speaker in the man’s ears whisper quietly.
“Affirmative. Proceed when the target is in the red zone. Don’t screw up, Bomber. I’ll gut you if you blow up the target. Knives, Flair, in position.” Fast Hands replied. Feeling somewhat energized and shaking with excitement, he allowed himself a slow smile before focusing entirely at the task at hand.
There was no answer from either of them. It came as a high pitch scream followed by a large explosion.
“Now this is what I call, entertainment.” Fast Hands grinned widely. Gathering his powers about him, he took a leap off his perch and into the plains proper.
Many dimensions exist at the same time; so many that in fact, none could begin counting and still live to report his findings. Connecting all of these dimensions are the fabrics of time, interwoven with the strings of destiny. Each dimension has its own inhabitants and rules of living; some went down the path of magic, some went down the path of technology, and then some which stands wavering between both and some which merged both and stand solidly connected to all. All dimensions go through a certain amount of cycle of ages before slowly crumbling away to make way for a new dimension, ready to take its place in the fabrics of time.
Our story begins thus, originating from a nameless dimension in their last cycle. The human civilization had evolved so rapidly down the paths of magic they could predict the end of their dimension long before it came about. Thus, they scrambled to halt the falling of their world as they know it. However, when destiny beckons, nothing could resist it.
Realizing that they could not prevent its downfall, the greatest mage put forth a suggestion.
“We may ease to exist, however, our knowledge cannot go into the grave with us! Let us gather all we know and imbue it to a stone. Humans cannot travel through dimensions but stones can, for they do not age.”
This was brandied about and thought upon for generations before it was decided by the Wise Occult Lessomandt Serenity or WOLS for short, a council of a hundred of the greatest mages, that that is the only course left to humanity.
And so it was decided as thus, the hundred mages sacrificed all their life force to commit the weight of all their knowledge to a single sapphire stone, all save 1 who devised the greatest of all spells that came to be, one that will send the stone out traveling through the fabrics of time, casting ripples in its passing of dimensions.
As destiny would have it, the sapphire at last settled into a young dimension, still tottering about undecided whether to go down the path of magic or technology.
Earth’s dimension.
