War at the beginning was a slow and sluggish thing, built up over time. Overtime though, it has become a common trend. Battles and scrimmages ravage the world held together by people’s greed and personal desires. The Wars were endless, and the main reason for the corruption in the hearts of people. Instead of bringing out resolve to the inner spirit, it brought ambition and selfishness. War became a necessity to gain more than just land, but to dominate another group’s beliefs and rights. Society was in chaos, always fighting with other classes, trying to promote their belief as the only right belief. It was because of all these reasons that Mortem came. The Lord silenced the world once and for all from all its aggressive chatter and put in into an apocalyptic purgatory state.
We, the survivors of this silence, must warn future generations. Not only from Mortem’s Justice, but from themselves as well. These pieces of work aren’t meant to put down certain classes or beings, but to give guidelines to these future Generations. The truths and lies that have existed in all forms of government for as long as this world existed.
The world we once knew is gone, destroyed by an entity that was summoned by the people’s own foolishness. The only hope now, it to rebuild and learn from these mistakes.
-The Forbidden Texts
Mozak and his army continued their way to Bakea. They crossed into the dried-out landscapes that surrounded the ancient city.
“What happened here?” Mozak asked the Zebra Councilmember, as he began to blink his reptilian eyes repeatedly in reaction to the bright sun.
“There are theories,” the Zebra began, “that this is where Mortem first arrived.” The group began riding up a hill, and scattered dead remains of trees lied about. “His presence was so powerful, that it decimated all life from the city to miles afar.” The armies followed right behind them. The men marched is formation, the same as the Velus, with the Basuru’s flying up ahead, and the remaining Zakaz scouted out ahead of them.
“I read a little from the Texts,” Mozak said.
The Zebra was surprised, no one he knew ever read the texts before. He only heard the stories passed on by Velus for generations. “What did you see?” the Zebra asked nervously.
“It was strange,” Mozak said, “I thought it was going to hurt me or something because of that bright light, but when I opened it, the light started to fade a little.” The two continued up the hill, a bit ahead from the rest of the group. “I had to press a button of some sort, and out of nowhere, endless information began popping up, all labeled with words and numbers. I pressed on one of the items, a whole list of information came up.”
The Zebra looked at him with confusion, this didn’t sound like any ordinary book. “Buttons, a bright light?” the Zebra thought to himself. “What did you see?” the Zebra asked Mozak.
“The first part told a story, or I think it was a story because it was written like it, and it explained how a group of men went to the city of Bakea,” Mozak explained. “There, with the guidance of Mortem from the heavens, they created these two pieces of information, and then went out to spread their work. It then listed a bunch of information about governments and their principles.”
“What did you think of it?” the Zebra asked.
“It seemed strange really,” Mozak said. “This is something that has such an impact on all of our lives, but, right in my hands, it looked so simple. I’m not saying it’s bad, but it didn’t feel like it had the power of Mortem with it, more like guidelines for society.”
The Zebra looked confused for a second, he didn’t expect such an answer, but then realized that it still must mean something. Cassius believed in Mozak, and in so he believes in Mozak as well, but what Mozak was saying sounded odd. It was if to him that Mozak seemed completely calm and ok with that fact that he just skimmed through ancient pieces of texts that were co-created by the god himself. Maybe this showed that Mortem was ready to handle the leadership that is needed to control a new world, but the Zebra was taken back by Mortem’s odd behavior. For someone who read the works of gods and demigods, he seemed relaxed about it.
“Maybe that is why Cassius chose you” the Zebra said. “You have the will to handle something that would corrupt most others.” Mozak smiled a little bit with his crooked tiny teeth.
“Thank you, I’m glad you are here with me,” Mozak said.
“As am I Mozak” the Zebra said as the two finally reached the top.
The two stood silent for a moment, and the army marching up behind them grew silent as well. Right before them was Bakea.
The city stood in the middle of miles of wasteland surrounding it. The city was composed of strange rectangular structures that stood up like trees. It looked black and melted, just like the Metal Mountains, and strange objects filled the streets. These objects looked like machines, machines that were used for another time. They were also melted and black like the buildings. In the center of the city, a bright yellowish light glowed like the sun.
As Mozak’s army stared out at the city, the sun began to fall into a hill, adjacent miles from them on the other side of the landscape. As the sun began to burrow underground, the Zakaz Army stood on the other hill
Zinc looked through his binoculars at the other army and squinted. He got on his horse, and galloped to the rest of the Army, while Argon looked over at the Army growling. Zinc began pacing back and forth horizontally from the army, his grip on his horse tightening every turn about. A sudden burst of anger and frustration came from him. He began speaking.
“Zakaz Soldiers! For months we have tried to find these Texts, and for months we have been brought nothing but tragedy and destruction to our Empire. On that hill miles off, is the reason for this suffering. Their Shaman killed one of our kind brutally, and a traitor leads an insurrection against us. We may not have the Tablets yet, but Boro and Tungsten should arrive soon. But now, these traitors must be killed!” The Army roared in response, with weapons banging on the ground, and weapons starting to be loaded.
Argon kept looking out on the other Army, it seemed that the traitor Mozak was giving a speech as well. He noticed with a turn of his head, that the Overlevas began moving up a big building left to him. This building was isolated from the city, and it stood like a hill in the wastelands. Argon then noticed that mammal-like creatures from Mozak’s Army began moving toward this isolated building as well. Argon ignored this though, as he was being called by Zinc to anger up the army. He quickly galloped over to the group on his horse and began screaming.
“SOLDIERS! TONIGHT, WE FEAST ON THE FLESH OF TRAITORS! SAVOR THEIR TASTE, FOR IT’S THE TASTE OF JUSTICE! KILL ALL THAT YOU SEE BUT LEAVE THE LEADER TO ME!” The Army roared in response. “SOLDIERS OF THE ZAKAZ, KILL THEM ALL!” Argon roared as he and Zinc began running down the slope toward the city.
Mozak saw this and began finishing up his speech.
“SOLDIERS OF A BETTER FUTURE END THE TERROR BROUGHT BY THE ZAKAZ! AS THE VELU ELITE HANDLE THE CULT, DISTRACT THE ARMIES! PROTECT THE CITY AND KILL THE ARCHERS!” Mozak roared as he and his army began running down the slope toward the city.
The orchestra of war began, the two armies drumming out thunder as they ran to each other. The sounds of yells and screams filled the empty landscape with terror and anger. The two armies, filled with hate and their own personal resolves, ran at each other relentlessly. As their two mystic groups met up in the isolated building, the two armies got closer to each other near the city. Finally, the two armies clashed, the impact was the sound of lightning from a thousand storms.
Boro was riding as fast as he could toward the city on his horse. In his hands, the Tablets of Ram. He could hear the clashing of soldiers’ miles off, and he kicked his horse to go faster. He must get there, he must make the decision.
Mozak drived in sword right into a Zakaz’s chest, as he ducked from another’s strike at him. He then stabbed the other in the knee, rose up, and quickly decapitated the other solider quickly. He was in the middle of the onslaught. All around him, the two separate sides fought each other ravenously.
He saw a Zakaz take down three human soldiers, and then a Basuru pick that soldier up and bite off its head. He then saw a Basuru being shot down by the Zakaz’s fire swords, as a group of Velus charged into the group, and started to shoot each other down. Right in that moment a group of Basurus began swooping down to pick at the Zakaz distracted in the fighting. An Elephant Velu, after sweeping a group of Zakaz with his giant hammer, began stomping down on the remaining soldiers.
Out of nowhere he saw Argon, riding his horse, jump of his horse, and bury his ax in the Elephant’s head. As the Elephant fell, Argon began mowing down all of the soldiers around him. He swung around his ax like it was light as a feather and began chopping people up like paper. He got stabbed a little in his backside, which caused him to react by biting down on his attacker with his powerful jaws, causing the attacker to split in two.
It was chaos on the battlefield, and everything seemed to move slowly to Mozak, right until he saw a Zakaz running at him. The Zakaz got the first hit, throwing Mozak back, as the two started to engage in sword combat. Their two blades clashed as the rest of the army fought around them. Suddenly a Basuru rammed into Argon, causing the crocodile to be thrown across the battlefield right across from Mozak and Zakaz who were fighting. The Zakaz got distracted by this, and Mozak quickly stabbed the soldier with Lampu. Mozak then quickly got up from the ground and began running toward Argon.
Argon, unaware of Mozak running behind him, took on the Basuru flying right at him. He picked up his ax from the ground, and chucked it at the flying lion, hitting it in its shoulder. The Basuru quickly fell to the ground, dragging along the ground right at Argon’s footsteps, and Argon grabbed the ax quickly, and chopped the Basuru down.
As Mozak got closer, he then realized what the Oracle said. He then saw the city was to his left and got an idea. He began running toward the city.
Argon got surrounded by a group of Basuru’s, that began to claw and bite at his armor, making deep cuts into his scaly skin. As Argon fought them off, he saw Mozak was running to the city. His inner rage took control of him, and Argon began chopping down all the Basuru’s, he then broke out of the sea of fighting, and began running after Mozak.
Across the field, Zinc was getting swarmed by an endless oncoming of troops. They charged at him like bolts of lightning, but the old iguana took them down like flies. Zinc, wielding his slim long hand-carved blade, began slicing down the troops. His cuts were fast and clean, unlike Argon’s whose exploded in chunks of flesh and blood. Zinc laid a quick slice to a human’s jugular, causing his face to be splattered with dots of blood.
The field was turning into an early graveyard, watered with the blood of the fallen. Everything moved so slow, yet everything moved so quickly. Entering the heat and humidity brought by the close-proximity combat, was like entering some sweaty nauseating dreamscape, where your thoughts and actions move sluggishly, while you start to break down from the lack of fresh air.
Zinc leapt into the air, slicing down a couple of Basurus, causing them to fall with a spasm impact on the crowds of troops. One Basuru grabbed Zinc and began tearing at his armor with its claws and teeth. Zinc was able to break away, landing hard onto the ground. The Basuru flew off, going to find another enemy it could kill.
Zinc got up quickly, and saw Argon running toward the city. He was confused, until he also saw Mozak entering the city as well. Zinc rushed through the crowds fighting, nearly swimming through corpses, and went running into the city as well.
As Mozak entered the ruined metropolis, he hid behind a molten black carriage (one of a strange variety to be added). He got them into the city, into a maze, now he has to find out how to kill them. He can’t be the one to lay down the final blows, and he needs figure out an alternative. He swore at himself, realizing he should’ve thought this through more carefully.
Mozak then noticed a giant infrastructure on his right. It looked like some strange factory. Mozak quickly snuck over across the street and crawled into the building. The factory was full of cobwebs and dust, with a large conveyer belt that wrapped around the entire structure multiple times. On the belt, there were a bunch of strange tools. Sharp blades, giant crushing machines, and a large opening in the floor on one part of the conveyer belt. Mozak was confused why there was such a large opening on the belt, until he saw on the bottom of the belt there was a large machine. Inside this machine, there were chemicals swirling all about, and big red letter on the machine.
“If I could get them on that belt,” Mozak thought to himself, “and if I could distract them for long enough..,” Mozak continued to think as he began walking up the steps to the control room.
The control room was also covered in dust and mold, but it looked like the machines still worked. From the dark night outside, the fires of battle on the fields lit through the windows of the infrastructure. Mozak went to a table, full of strange buttons, and began pressing them. Suddenly, a loud hissing beeping sound echoed throughout the factory. The belt began moving, and the large machineries of sharp blades and fire blowing up from the ground began to take life.
Argon and Zinc heard across the decomposed streets the ancient sounds and began running toward the factory.
Boro reached the hill that extended out to the battlefield. His didn’t have any empathy toward the onslaught of blood and guts flying all over the place. He got off his horse, and kicked it, allowing it to roam the area. Boro then slowly made his way to the Velus’ camp on the hill. The Velus were able to set up guards in order to protect The Forbidden Texts. Boro entered their small camp, and walked up to the guards.
“I am going to take the Texts,” Boro said. The guards obeyed his request and allowed Boro to put the Texts in a chest. Now Boro left the Velu camp, one chest around each arm, and made his way slowly toward the decaying city.
Meanwhile, the Overlevas and the Velus met up in the rubble of the isolated building. The Council Members and the Cult faced each other down from the opposite entrances to the building. They both slowly entered the rubble of the tower, as the battle to their side continued to play along. The two groups stopped a couple of feet from each other, both sides having no fear of the other.
“You have no place here,” Dragon-Skull said.
“Neither do you,” the Elephant Member replied.
“On that battlefield down, they’re ripping each other apart for those Texts,” Spider-Skull spoke.
“Barely at this point,” the Zebra Member said. “They are more driven by hate now then justice.”
“I do believe our work on these creatures was too much,” Crocodile-Skull replied. “What should we do?”
“We should allow the one who sees the future, the one who is not pushed by his own hatred decide,” the Lion Member suggested. “The one who seeks to bring some sort of balance back.”
“No side. Any cost,” Hawk-Skull spoke.
“Boro, the Turtle,” the Wolf Member continued.
“Yes, let Boro decide,” Tiger-Skull replied.
“We will not waste this time fighting for nothing,” the Bear Member said. “Our paths may cross again, but now is not the time. Now we must let Boro decide.”
The two sides, one who prays to good and the other to the bad of a long-deceased warrior, backed away from each other. They both then began getting on their steeds and rode back to their homelands. It was in this that the battle started to slow down, for their mystical presence brought some sort of supernaturality to the battle. Too many soldiers were killed, and the ones left were exhausted. They were stuck in a purgatory state, waiting for the orders of their leaders.
Argon busted down the doors of the factory, and he saw Mozak moving along a belt. Argon, fueled by his rage, leapt onto the belt and ran at Mozak. The small gecko jumped out of the way of the croc’s ax, causing the ax to be stuck in the belt. As Argon tried to pull it out, Mozak tried to cut him, but Argon got him by the neck and threw him back. Mozak then quickly got back up, and started to take a couple of steps back.
Suddenly the sharp blades came rushing down, and he jumped back again quickly, avoiding being sliced up. Argon then now finally pulled his ax out of the belt, leaving a tear in it.
“The Shaman is dead,” Argon said. “The Cult broke him down into a vegetable state. The Riders are dead. You will not join them,” Argon said as he began to raise his ax to throw it.
“You and the Archers are not fit to rule the world,” Mozak replied. “You are driven by your emotions, not reason,” Mozak continued as he noticed the blades of the machine above him starting to whine up into position again as Argon was keeping his eyes on him.
“That is true,” Argon replied, “but we have fought for too long, far too hard to let it all go now.” Argon had his eyes trap Mozak eyes. He wanted to reach Mozak’s soul before he died. Argon looked into those big scaly yellow eyes and had them defenseless.
“I can’t kill you Argon,” Mozak said,” but you must stop.”
‘ENOUGH OF THIS!” Argon said as he raised his ax to throw it.
Suddenly the blades dropped from above, from the left and the right, and openings on the ground as well now. In a split second, the blades flew by, but Argon remained stationary. There was a look of horror on his face as pieces of him began to fall apart. Large chunks of his guts and bones then collapsed onto the belt. His pieces then were moved off the main track and placed into crates labeled Ammunition.
Zinc then busted into the factory and saw Mozak on the belt. Mozak then quickly jumped up to the taller machines, when Zinc discovered Argon’s remains. Zinc roared in anger and climbed up the bars up to the machinery.
Mozak quickly climbed up the bars, until a burst of flames caused him to fall on one of the upper platforms. Mozak got to his feet and saw certain square patches of the belt that opened up and fire released, melting the materials it brought and sending it down tubes on the sides of the track. The wheels in Mozak’s head began turning as well, as Zinc slammed down onto the platform.
Mozak jumped back as Zinc lunged forward to slice Mozak. Zinc swept his sword at all sides around Mozak, but the little lizard kept moving backward. Zinc, enraged and thoughtless now, kicked Mozak across the belt, and stepped onto a strange square.
Before Mozak could get up, Zinc threw a dagger at one of Mozak’s eyes, causing him to fall back down, screaming in pain. Blood started to spit out from his eye, and Mozak held onto it tightly, as the blood started to drip through the openings of his hand.
Zinc started to load up his fire-sword, switching gears, and placing in strange items into the sword’s barrel. He pointed it at Mozak when the floor before him opened and a strange noise started to hiss.
In a second a burst of flame emerged, engulfing Zinc. His skin started to boil and melt off him like wax, and his skeleton started to show, patches of white entrapped in orange and red. Zinc was silent, but an expression of horror was on his face, as his cry left his body and joined the flames. His fire-sword then malfunctioned from the heat, and exploded, sending his remains all over the room.
It was done, the Archers were dead. Mozak quickly ripped off a piece of cloth from his clothing and wrapped it around his bleeding eye. He started to hear bone clanging against the metal floor. For a second, he thought Zinc was still alive, his bones crawling back at him, but the true horror was the turtle walking up the railing with two chests in his hands.
Boro met Mozak on the platform, staring him down. Mozak was terrified and confused, but Boro was calm and mela tone. Boro looked at the fire by him, the flames that could burn the two chests under his arms, and then slowly turned his head back to Mozak. He raised up the chests.
Mozak suddenly heard a clank at his feet. It was the chests. He looked up to Boro who was still staring at him.
“Be better. Learn from their mistakes. Lead the future,” Boro said. He then slowly walked away.
Mozak was speechless, and he slowly picked up the two chests. He left the building a walked along the ruined streets.
He looked up a noticed all the little details the remained on the burnt buildings and realized how advanced they must have been. He then looked out onto the battlefield. The remaining soldiers of the Archers were starting to run away or surrendered to Mozak’s army. He could see in the distance, Boro getting on his horse and riding away. He didn’t have a clue of where the turtle was going, but he knew that he still must leave the turtle alone.
Mozak then stood on one of the black carriages. He glared at his army, who were tired and injured, but still showed the gleam of hope about them. Mozak let out a heavy sigh and raised the chests. The army roared in applause.
Mozak got down as hundreds of soldiers started to thank him personally, as the remaining captains kept them back a couple of feet. Mozak walked through the crowds silent. He didn’t have anything to say and wasn’t going to waste time saying something he knew wasn’t necessary to say. A group of Archer soldiers stood in his path and took a knew to him. Mozak stared them down now, the soldiers responding with twinges of fear in their eyes. Mozak then nodded his head and allowed the soldiers to stand. Mozak then realized that the Velus were gone.
“I hope nothing bad happened,” Mozak thought to himself.
He reached the camp as the army followed behind him. He got on his horse, and his army mounted up as well.
Mozak was a bit relaxed for the moment, or just exhausted from the battle. He didn’t know exactly what to do next, but he did believe that returning to Ares would be a good start.
Mozak and Army marched across the wastelands of Bakea, a city once full of prosperity but now a ruin. Mozak carried with him the two texts to lead the future. To him, guidelines on how to govern, but to the rest, the most holy relics of their time. Mozak wasn’t sure what he will do next, but he knew one thing for sure. He saw so many people who had power become corrupt. He promised to himself to that day, no matter what will happen, that he will never abuse his power, and if he ever did, then he was already dead to himself.
Across the wastelands, Boro galloped on his horse. Boro then arrived at a quiet beach, and an endless sea mapped out in front of him. He saw a little hut set up on the beach, and the Oracle sitting on his white rock meditating. Boro rode down the sandy slopes and tied his horse to the single tree on the beach.
“Thank you for telling Mozak about your prophecy,” Boro said as he walked up toward the Oracle.
“Thank you for fulfilling it,” the Oracle. “This was not set up by fate alone, no, there must have been direct influence in order for it to work.”
“Well I’m glad everything worked out,” Boro said as he sat down. Boro then started to look at the sea, the calm and slow movement of the waves thrashing back and forth.
“Tell me Boro,” the Oracle asked, “do you believe Mozak will be the best ruler for the future?”
“No. Not really the best,” Boro said. “He will do fine for sure, but he won’t bring any big changes now. His mind now is so mushed that big decisions aren’t his concern really anymore. He won’t really push for big changes after he fulfilled his promises.”
“Then why did we choose him?” the Oracle asked.
“The world needed change, not something that it quick, but something that will take its time gradually. Mozak will be the slow transition that will come from the Archers, and then the ones after him will make the bigger changes.” Boro explained.
“And do you believe that his successors will hold his ideals?” the Oracle questioned.
“Life isn’t perfect. We always make mistakes, but it takes a strong will to follow up on those mistakes the right way. His successors may not hold his beliefs, but Mozak has set up something concrete. Something that will stand the test of time and cannot be changed.” Boro explained.
“What would that be?” the Oracle said.
“The Texts. Mozak will use the texts to his advantage and form a powerful government around them. No matter what leader that would later emerge, this structure will stay strong throughout the sands of time.” Boro continued.
“And what if this structure starts to crack and crumble?” the Oracle asked.
“Then we will intervene once again,” Boro replied. Boro then placed his staff on the sand and allowed it to sink a little into the grains.
“We will stand against the sands of time as well Boro,” the Oracle said. “What do you want to do now?”
Boro then got up and walked toward the hut.
“I think a nap would be good for now,” Boro smiled as he walked into the hut.
The Oracle smiled back, as he looked out onto the ocean in front of him. The waves constantly thrashing against each other, and then suddenly calming down. The Oracle stood there motionlessly, like a statue among the miles of sand, as the sun began to rise from the water.
The Oracle thought to himself for a while, thinking about the work he and the Turtle have done. While they succeeded, the Oracle wanted to know what will happen in the future. He got into his meditation position, took a deep breath, and saw visions of the future.
The Oracle smiled in response to what he saw, for he knew that Boro will still be there for what will come next.
“Now,” the Oracle thought, “we will wait. We won’t push anything, for the world needs time to reset. We will wait. We will wait.”
The Oracle stood up on his rock, like a bird perched, and walked into the hut to take a nap as well.