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Act II: The Divine Wings of Tragedy

All Zerrex knew was darkness... sorrow, death, pain and failure. He knew that he had lost everything, and he could feel the tears streaming down his face as he twisted back and forth, and there was something covering his body... and then his eyes opened and he sat up suddenly, blinking several times as his hair fell in his eyes, confused and murky. His head hurt... but as he rubbed at his face, he blinked again and looked blearily around at his surroundings, more lost than he'd ever been in his life as he saw not a dark dungeon, but instead a bedroom. A messy, disorganized, jumbled bedroom where the scariest thing was the skull dangling by the eye sockets from a strip of rawhide that had been run through it.

He looked around slowly in the quasi-darkness of what had to be early morning, and then he slid out of bed, knocking an ugly green blanket and a quilt down onto the floor as he rubbed at his head quietly. Was this a dream? A hallucination? Or was this another world? Was it Hell or Heaven, and why...

The reptile looked slowly back and forth, swallowing: white walls with shelves built into them at head level and then from waist down to the floor, and a hole bookcase half-hidden behind an open door... a desk cluttered with books, prescription bottles, lead slugs and plastic BBs. Hell, there was a road cone sitting beside a small cupboard unit - the top of which was stacked with DVDs - and another stand on which stood a television, the shelves below stuffed with video games and magazines and binders... and two large closets. One blockaded by the bed, the other three sliding doors that ate up half the wall. But all through the room where weapons, and taped to the wall was an illustration of a reptile in more sci-fi armor than anything else... and sitting in frames on the top of the shelf against the wall where two more pictures; both of him. One was a bit too lithe, but it was unmistakably him... the other a bit too... alligator?

Zerrex shook his head slowly, then looked down at his hands and blinked as he noted the silver ring on one, before he realized he could feel the cold metal of something else against his chest, and he reached up to grab it, finding himself looking down at some unknown kanji. He shook his head slowly, dropping it as his gaze settled on his body, and suddenly finding a mirror of some kind seemed very important.

He turned to walk towards the door, wincing a bit at the pain shooting up his legs, and then almost tripping over something in the dark blue light. He stumbled, then caught himself in the doorway before shaking his head quickly and turning around. A motorcycle jacket hung from the handle... and there was a large, unornamented odachi just sitting against one of the shelves. Now he halted again, blinking, then shook his head quickly before walking out the door and onto a small landing at the top of a set of carpeted stairs. He winced, then walked slowly down these, pausing at the bottom - it was a short, U-shaped hallway, with a door leading in from outside at the top of the U... and wherever he was, it definitely wasn't Hez'Ranna anymore from the glance outside he took through the window.

The world outside was snowy, and he could feel the cold crawling over the scales of his bare chest, as he carefully looked around the corner of the stairs and down a few stone stairs leading into a basement, with a door right across from them. This made the Drakkaren mutter irritably: this had to be the worst place ever to be ambushed. Corners every-frigging-where he looked... and then he sighed before deciding to investigate this first.

A distinct, cold feeling rolled down his spine, and he looked back and forth nervously as he stepped down onto the icy cement floor. With a glance to the side, he noted a lot of dried foods stacked on a bunch of shelves, a dryer and washer, a sink, and a big red toolbox... and Zerrex paused to search this quickly before removing a long-necked screwdriver from one of the unlocked drawers on the unit. He really should have taken a weapon earlier from the room above, but... up there, this... feeling of creepiness, of something being just wrong and off, hadn't been so strong. He shivered a bit again, then turned and headed towards the plain white wood door, opening it and stepping into a small bathroom.

The only thing that caught his attention, however, was the mirror... and as he stood on the cold tiles, he could only stare at himself in something like horror. It should have all been so obvious... but he'd been unwilling to believe it until he'd seen it with his own eyes.

He was... an ordinary-looking kid. Not a child, just... young, maybe around twenty at most. His eyes were hazel, his hair white but unkempt and fussy, corkscrewing in every direction, and his body had a few scars over it - particularly nasty ones on his breast and upper left arm, the latter looking almost like an attempted suicide that was either stopped by sheer luck or a fluke of nature - and he was lithe, maybe a bit towards athletic, but otherwise thin and with a less-than-average body. His scales were a bit lackluster, and prone to what looked like bits and pieces of rot here and there... and he was clad in a pair of torn black jeans that were loose on legs that felt like hell just from standing up this long.

And yet, he could remember everything... his name was Zerrex Narrius, and he'd fought his father, and... lost... everything. The Drakkaren dropped the screwdriver in the sink and fell down on the toilet, sitting down and hugging himself, trembling violently and lowering his head as he clenched his eyes shut, wondering with horror if this was his punishment, to be confined to a weak body and forced to watch as his father took over the world...

But no... no, he would not stand here and watch, he wouldn't just... sit back, useless! And with tears in his eyes, he stood up and staggered out, snarling angrily as he ran back up the steps and grunting in pain as he headed back to his room, feeling pain shooting down his legs, before falling on the landing... and then staring up at a black-cloaked figure that seemed to pulse out of darkness itself, little more than a floating dark cloak with claws. Zerrex felt some horrible thing rise in him, fear, even terror... and then he blinked, and it was gone, and he trembled violently for a few moments on the floor before slowly getting up and panting quietly, looking back and forth and hitting the light switch for what was undoubtedly his room.

And in that light, he saw the glint of steel and weapons; the odachi, a knife on the table, airsoft guns and a single-shot rifle, a heavy chain sitting atop a stack of boxes, a set of samurai swords in a wooden holder, and a large broadsword resting between the handles of his clothes armoire. He blinked slowly as he walked forwards, glancing to the side to see a set of combat knives and a huge iron dagger, and then wandering over to look at what had caught his eyes beside the armoire... and seeing everything from construction tools like a huge sledgehammer to a compound bow and arrows.

Stacked neatly in a row by his bed, as well, were three canes: two black ones - and one of these wooden and with a carved bear's head, the other just a plain, curving handle - and an elegant wood cane. And then his eyes turned back to the prescription bottles, and Zerrex felt a shudder roll through him as he crawled back into bed, knowing that there were two more truths that had just come to light.

One was that Narrius, no matter what, would never leave him such a menagerie of weapons, no matter how weak he deemed him... especially the rifle and bow. The second, was that, at least for now, he was not who he thought he was... and as he reached forwards, he quietly picked up a prescription bottle with a hand, swallowing thickly and looking down at it, reading quietly: "Clonazepam. Prescribed to John Guy... Oxycodone... Zoloft..."

He dropped the bottle, and it clinked lightly by the others as Zerrex looked down at this mutely. Then he glanced to the laptop that dominated the desk, some brand he'd never heard of before, and he threw it open and hit the power button, looking back and forth in horror. It powered up after what felt like hours, and then came to a sign-in screen that said 'Zerrex Narrius,' and had a cropped picture of his face from the drawing he had framed. The reptile winced, then typed in the first word that came to mind: his middle name.

The computer welcomed him with a cheery beep, then began to load up his saved settings from hibernation, and he slowly pushed himself off the bed - noting the wolf fleece blanket and again, the variety of books and other crap he had around the room... before walking over to the picture and quietly picking it up, looking down at it silently and the writing beside the illustration, murmuring quietly: "To my dear friend Johnny... may you always be this beautiful inside... Reia..."

Reia... the thought brought to mind... a vague image of a reptile, not a Drakkai, he thought, but close... one of the higher-order reptiles, a girl, a... someone? He shook his head fiercely, grabbing at his temples and snarling. Gods, why... why is this happening... to be thrown from one nightmare to the next...

Then he trembled and sighed, before jumping and bringing his hands up gamely... and then pausing as he looked down at them, frowning a bit and realizing that he had assumed his ready position with no trouble, which meant... fuck, it could mean a lot of things, really. So instead, he slumped and sighed, walking over to it and blinking as he again saw a desktop crowded with icons and with a background picture of a tall, powerful-looking white tiger with spikes of bone coming from his shoulders, elbows, knees, and rising up from his back, and a great, thick mane around a grinning face, a sword comparable to Blackheart in one hand and what could almost be an oversized gladius in the other. Didn't... I... meet him, before?

He shook his head slowly, frowning quietly and glancing at himself instead... a bit lither than he had been, but otherwise... well-equipped with his twin handguns holstered at his side, the huge revolver at his leg, and Blackheart over one shoulder, colored dark in this picture... and then he snarled before slamming a fist into a wall, whispering: "What the fuck is going on!"

Then the reptile sighed and slumped, closing his eyes; his head was pounding, aching... and then he made a face and glanced to the side before grabbing one of the pill bottles and wrestling with it for a few moments, and finally popping it open to spill out a few oxycodone into his hand. He looked at them mildly, compared the instructions - ½ to 1 pill 3 times a day - and then shrugged and popped all three into his muzzle, chewing them and wincing at the bitter, horrible taste before swallowing. Addictive behavior, he realized, but he didn't give a crap at this point and time. And he'd much rather be a bit high than a lot confused.

Then he paused and glanced down, hesitating a moment with his hands on the keyboard and closing his eyes as he searched himself, down to the core and soul. He could remember Narrius clearly... and... something... that was trying to elude him. Almost as if... oh shit.

Drake. Narrius had spoken of some science project called a Nephilim, mentioned angels, control, manipulation, and darkness. And as Zerrex slowly rose his head, the puzzle pieces fell together in his mind, and his hazel eyes seemed to flash emerald in the darkness for a moment, reality itself almost bending as the puzzle locked together and finally formed the picture he had groped so long for. Narrius had put him into some kind of illusionary world... had mentioned doing experimentation on him... and a painless sleep. And so that was where he had to be... a world that Narrius had expected to drive him insane.

But during the period where this world had been built for him, where Drake had tried to assume control, or whatever had happened... Zerrex's broken core had pieced itself together. Sleep did wonders for the Drakkaren in spirit, body and mind... and his overtaxed form had managed to build up its supports again, and he found that yeah, once more, he was ready to fight. He was past the shock his seeing his father alive again, and being so easily and totally destroyed... and past the hopelessness. And now he was just pissed-off at there being such a dirty, filthy trick played on him, and he wasn't willing to let the terror or the panic back into his soul, fighting it off with resolution, and with the hope that his friends could still be alive. That his family, his beloved, and all those important to him, could still be around... and that it wasn't too late to stop Narrius's plans and crush his father once and for all.

And Zerrex couldn't help the faintest of grins, closing his eyes and bowing his head forwards: he knew that of anyone and anything in this world, it would be Requiem who would nod and understand, and perhaps even be proud and happy that Zerrex was going to face a foe who seemed... indomitable. And that the foe was his father, and Zerrex was ready to die fighting him, if just to stall him... and he knew he also had Requiem to thank for that and those teachings he'd passed along. The uncle he'd never really knew or loved until the very end of it all, when they'd fought to the death... but during that duel, in those sparse few moments of violence, they had truly gotten to know each other, and Zerrex had gained a respect for him he'd never imagined he would feel for any antecedent of the Narrius household.

So instead he would play the game as best he could, putting all his faith into what he thought was the truth... and rapidly tapping keys, bringing up all the files he could find on himself... and there were a lot. Chat logs on some messaging service, story after story, tidbits and ideas here and there, all this crap that was meant to make him seem like he'd been... a fool with a delusion. But the more Zerrex worked, the more he came to see the flaws in the illusion: the little incorrect descriptions of Cherry, the glamorizing of certain battles... stories about things that had never actually happened. And of course, most ridiculous of all, he seemed to be 'mates' with a Mahihko Narrius, who had been formerly known as Lone Wulfe. This made Zerrex snort laughter; like he could ever be in love with that idiot.

A pause, though, as he read over the conversation logs, and a faint smile as he glanced through some of the things they'd done, worked, on, talked about. Even in this world, Lone had been a major screwup... but he'd been devoted in his own way. And once he'd changed his name to Mahihko, he'd only made a few more stupid mistakes and cries for attention before finally seeming to submit to Zerrex with heart, soul, and body... and he referred to Zerrex almost like a god... and treated him like both a father and a lover. Zerrex did see here and there things that... really did touch him, and the fact that the wolf had taken up art to try and give Zerrex even more happiness... and damn, did he draw well. Not as well as Reia, who he found after some research, or Killer - that was the name of the white tiger on the desktop, the one he'd some years back while out on a road trip with Cherry - and definitely not as much as some other people who'd done some bits and pieces of art of his character... but he'd done literally thousands of drawings, and most of them of the reptile. And he'd improved rapidly... and Zerrex grudgingly admitted he'd probably be the best person for him in this world from the little bit he'd seen.

Then it appeared he'd had some illicit sexual relationships with a few other peoples... Gods, I never change, even in an illusion... and that his family was pretty screwed up, too. He had been enrolled in a university, but forced to drop out because of unknown medical reasons... and Zerrex had grinned a bit when he'd found a list keeping track of his symptoms and some more technical facts, before glancing at the pile of medical textbooks on the floor. Apparently in this world he wasn't any smarter, but he was more patient with research, at least, and he mumbled a bit as he glanced them over. "Okay... so the only real thing to remember is that I walk everywhere with a cane... and that meds have no effect on me." He paused, then muttered under his breath: his headache was still throbbing, alright, and he didn't feel any effect from the triple dose of oxy he'd just popped. "Why can't they change at least a bit around..."

At around nine that morning, Zerrex glanced up as he heard someone downstairs making coffee... and he carefully changed into a plain gray t-shirt and snagged the medical cane. He paused for a few moments, then decided his right leg complained the most, so he used it on that side, hobbling down the stairs as he kept his expression tired but noncommittal, not exactly knowing who he was going to run into or even what the rest of the house looked like. This could make things difficult... unless, of course, everyone thinks I suffer from psychotic delusions, too.

He stepped through the easy-ambush hallway, then into a plain kitchen lit by pretty halogen bulbs to see a tired-looking Drakkaren with scales almost the same color as him making coffee... and she was pretty... and Zerrex's breath almost caught in his throat as he recognized Celestial Narrius. For a moment, he trembled, and his eyes felt on the verge of tears as he simply watched her from the doorway, then he forced a yawn to cover wiping at his eyes as he said in a voice that shook only slightly: "Hey... mom."

"Good morning," she replied, rubbing at the rumpled sweater she was wearing and glancing towards him with a tired smile, then she went back to making coffee as she murmured: "Fuckin' ugly day outside, isn't it?"

Okay. So it's uh. She only looks a bit like my mother. "Yeah. Pretty nasty." Zerrex agreed mildly, then he wandered into the room, feeling awkward, before remembering this was his home too, and so instead he turned to open the fridge and glance through it, coughing. "Where's the... uh..."

"I'm gonna pick up milk today. Or like, you know, you could run over to the store and get yourself a bag." she said drolly, then paused and added in a slightly-amused voice: "Oh wait. You can't."

Zerrex's eye twitched as he closed the door, feeling irritated as he glared over his shoulder at her, but she was already wandering out of the kitchen and into what he could see through an archway was likely a living room. Oh. This is just great. She looks like mom but has Cherry's mouth. He paused, then glanced at the fridge, and noted the variety of addiction and substance abuse support program magnets on it, before sighing a bit and rubbing at his head slowly. Oh. That explains it.

He heard the click of a lighter in the other room, and soon after smelled the distinct, crisp smell of a cigarette as he glanced over the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall, unable to deny how morbid he felt. There was a few scattered doctor's appointments, some "meetings" marked on it in red - he guessed support meetings - and some other crap, like 'Frenchie at five.' He didn't want to guess what that meant. But before he could pursue the female who was apparently his mother in this world into the next room to try and goad some information out of her, he heard a knock at the back door, and he leaned back with a blink to look out the kitchen and into the hallway, hating the lack of other doors in this home and seeing a female standing. A familiar-looking female, and he couldn't help but grin widely before toning it down to a smile, forcing himself to keep in mind she'd like be extremely different.

He half-staggered down the hall - holy shit did this getting annoying fast, but by now he'd come to realize that without the cane, he'd likely be falling over every few feet, pain or not - and then opened the door and jerked his head with a smile. "Come on in, Cherry."

"Cherry? Since when have you called me that?" asked the female with a blink, but she shrugged and grinned a bit nonetheless, her eyes flashing teasingly as she tromped into the house and kicked off her snow-covered boots, before turning to walk up the stairs leading into Zerrex's room with a snort. "Sin, is what all the guys and girls call me. Probably 'cause I'm so easy."

"Almost as easy as rolling out of bed. Except with you it's usually rolling into something." Zerrex replied mildly, stepping over her boots and hobbling up the stairs after her, cursing the hallucination's apparent lack of consideration for crippled people. But when he glanced up, Cherry was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking almost amazed and still clad in the thick winter parka she had on. "What?"

"Dude, you never say shit like that. I guess there's a guy with some balls under that whole polite façade you put up after all." Cherry replied, looking at him almost admiringly, and Zerrex mentally hit himself as she walked into the room, stripping off her jacket and tossing it on top of a cardboard box before sitting herself comfortably on his bed. Then she smiled at him as he hobbled into the room, still berating himself and reminding himself that right now, he should be doing his best to act like a normal person. "So hey, what you been up to?" A pause, a hesitation, and then in a softer voice: "You... the pain okay?"

Zerrex looked back at her as he put aside his cane against the bedpost, and he looked at her for a few long moments, sizing her up: shorter than him still, and actually, in this world, probably shorter than a lot of people. She had mismatched socks, ripped jeans, a cross-belt that was slung low on her waist, a tight white shirt that her black-bra beneath - probably a size too small for breasts that were still ridiculously-huge - showed right through, and a ripped jeans vest on, as well as a pair of plain dog tags around her neck... and he could see a thing of cigarettes in one pocket of the best and she stank of marijuana. She almost blushed a bit as they looked at each other, and then Zerrex smiled faintly as he sat down beside her, putting his hands on his knees and saying softly: "Sorry. But yeah, it's pretty bad. Havin' you around helps, though."

"Bastard." She nudged him lightly, then grinned. "So hey, what you got in store for today? Wanna watch some porn? Or play a game? Or you just wanna make out?"

"I like the last option." Zerrex said amusedly, leaning forwards playfully, and Cherry laughed and pushed him back, shaking her head with a wide grin and then pushing gently on his nose with one finger, making the Drakkaren wrinkle his muzzle.

"Sorry, but you still ain't high enough on the badass meter to get anything from me. Besides, everyone knows you have the hots for some other chick, too." She looked at him suggestively, and Zerrex responded with a blank look that she took for him playing dumb, so she merely snorted amusedly. "Other than the motherfucker who lies to you all the time, you have two friends, Johnny. Me, and Reia. Who the fuck am I talking about, do you think?"

This time, the reptile didn't have to fake a blush and a wince; somehow he had a feeling that Cherry was going to... still be Cherry. And Cherry's advice for anything to do with sex or relationships, was never good. "Well... uh... I think that's... going along fine, without your help, you know, Cherry..."

Cherry snorted, but seemed distracted at least for a moment as she replied irritably: "Sin, dude, Sin." A pause, then she looked up thoughtfully and rubbed under her muzzle, and Zerrex couldn't help but glance down at her impressive cleavage, wondering how old she actually was in this world and how her boobs already looked like she'd had her bowling balls inserted into her breasts. "But you know, Cherry does sound great. I'll have to tell all the other punks I hang around with that..." she paused, then glanced at Zerrex. "Oh, right. There's a party goin' on... I know you... you aren't comfortable around drinking, but look, I'll be there the whole time, and I'll be drivin' so I ain't gonna be drinking that much. And I know it's hard for you to move, but we'll be holding it at Daemon's place..."

"The asshole who says he can shoot a tin can at a hundred feet but hasn't even fired a real gun in his life?" Zerrex had no idea where this came from, but apparently it was the right thing to say, as Cherry slung an arm around him and laughed hard, leaning into him and grinning as she nodded firmly.

"Yeah, that's him! Stupid motherfucker, I could probably shoot better than him." And Zerrex smiled warmly at this, figuring it would likely remain true, even in this illusionary world. Then she paused, glanced at him oddly, and then coughed a bit before pulling out her pack of cigs. "Mind if I light up? And you want one of these nails?"

Zerrex shook his head, but offered her a lighter from his cluttered desk, and she nodded gratefully as she lit up and inhaled deeply, before breathing out a cloud of smoke. And they sat for a bit as Cherry looked at him awkwardly every now and then, before finally softening and saying quietly: "Hey, Johnny... I... thanks, you know? I know we started off on the wrong foot and I... did a lot of nasty shit to you, but... I really am sorry about the crap I pulled even after your legs got all screwed up and I wanna make it up to you, okay? You... to be honest, you seem like a douche out in public, but you're a pretty cool guy when you get talking. You just gotta stop bein' so damn shy, you know?"

The Drakkaren laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his head and glancing down embarrassedly: it was almost like his brain was sucking up parts of the illusion, or he was someone creating that past for himself. Then he paused and decided to try a little experiment, nodding and saying softly: "But I shouldn't have... you know. Said those things I did to you. I mean..." He pretended to struggle a bit here, then added: "I know what it's like to have your parents messed up on drugs and... it was just stupid of me."

Cherry looked at him for a few moments, then she smiled faintly and looked away, rubbing a hand over her eyes before looking down at the cigarette in her hand. "You were right though, I'm going the same way as my fucking bitch mother. Look at you, you ain't nothing like your family... a black sheep, but fuck, you just... fight that urge, and I know you have it, because of the way I've seen you..." She glanced up at him, then stopped, and then finally crushed out the cigarette in her hand with a wince of pain before tossing it back into the trash can across the bed, coughing. "Sorry."

"Hey, Cherry." Zerrex said softly, and she looked up at him, and Zerrex quietly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. She started, tensed up... and then trembled a bit before wrapping her arms back around him, and they lay down together for a little while, Cherry breathing softly against his chest, at first seeming to fight and resist and tense up... and then relaxing bit by bit, until finally she was all but clinging to him as he threw a blanket over them both, his eyes closed, rocking her slowly.

He hadn't guessed... he'd just... said what he wanted to be true, and it had come true, in this illusionary world. It showed that he had an extent of control... and it was something he'd have to test and find out. But for now, he wanted just to be here, enjoy this small bit of Heaven he'd forced in the Hell, and let it revive him... even though he knew this wasn't truly Cherry, it did bring up a wondering thought... was this what he and Cherry could have been? If there had never been any Goth Legion, if there had been no great war, if they'd had the chance to just live a normal life... would this be it?

And then finally Cherry rose up, and kissed his cheek with a smile as she glanced at the clock before sitting at the edge of the bed, flushing a bit. She glanced at him quietly, then hesitated a few moments before saying finally in a mumble. "Thanks." A pause, then a bit of a smile. "I like the name you gave me too... Cherry. I get it too, yeah, I ain't that stupid, Cherry Blossom. Sounds better'n Sin Blossom, too... but..." she stopped again, looked down, then swallowed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a bottle of codeine tablets and tossing them to Zerrex, saying quietly: "Here. I've been popping these to get high, but maybe they'll help you with the pain if oxy ain't working. And if you want, I can get you a few grams of weed, too. Might at least let you relax a bit. But... I should go"

Zerrex shook his head, glancing down at the bottle of codeine tablets, then he looked back up at Cherry with a bit of a smile. "Thanks... but... hey, if you got time, lemme show you something before you go." He said softly, and Cherry tilted her head curiously as Zerrex forced himself to stand and hobbled over to the large closet that looked like a walk-in, but actually had a few large dressers and all manner of crap that obviously wasn't his shoved in as well. Then he pulled out the rifle with the scope he'd placed in earlier - just a security measure - before turning and handing it to Cherry with a smile. Cherry took it and looked over it nervously, and then Zerrex said softly: "How'd you like to prove you're a better shot than that bastard Daemon?"

"Oh fuck, I was just being a smartass, Johnny..." Cherry stammered, but then Zerrex reached forwards and firmly tucked the lead hunting slugs he'd had resting on his table, and Cherry blinked again before meeting his eyes with surprise as they seemed to glow emerald for a moment. And then Zerrex grinned at her as he took the rifle back, walked over to the case he'd found for it sitting against the cupboard, placed it inside with the manuals, and then zipped it closed and came back, handing it over to the female.

She took it slowly, their eyes locking again, and Zerrex said softly: "You come back here in a few days... start at a hundred yards with the scope on "3," and see if you can hit a fair sized target. Go out to the gravel pits, no one's ever there-" Another random not-guess. "-and I have faith that you'll hit whatever you aim at. And then just keep moving back in increments of ten feet and see what the best distance you can make is."

"Johnny, that's really nice, but I have school, and my mom'd kill me-" Cherry's voice almost took on a whining edge, but her eyes were alight with a strange spark that told Zerrex she just needed to give given the reason, and then Zerrex grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes firmly. She froze and looked back, and then swallowed thickly.

But before she could speak, Zerrex said softly: "You don't listen to any words your mother says anymore anyway... and you got no problem skipping class. But Cherry, if you can do this... without practice, without even knowing how to use a gun... then think of what else you can do. And I know you can do this... but you come back the day after tomorrow, after two rounds at the gravel pit... and tell me how you feel." A pause, and then Zerrex gave a bit of a smile. "I'll share a secret with you. You know why I write? Because it keeps me addicted to one thing and away from something else, and lets me feel like I have a future... and shooting does the same thing for me, because it lets me feel in control, in power. I want you to experience that... and when you come back on-" And again, somehow he just knew. "Wednesday, you tell me how you felt when you blasted holes in those targets. And if you need those goddamn drugs I know you still got in your pocket and you reek of all goddamn day."

Now Cherry looked ashamed as well as anything else, but she was also staring at Zerrex with a sort of awe, as if she'd seen him for the first time... before finally giving a faint grin. "Okay, motherfucker... but we're gonna make a bet. If I'm right, and I just end up shooting wild, or whatever, you gotta buy me a week's supply of acid. But if you're right... I'll give you a blowjob and be your personal bitch for the rest of my life."

"That's not what I want to hear." Zerrex said softly, and Cherry frowned a bit, before the reptile met her eyes and said with a slight smile. "If I win, you can do that stuff if you want... but you don't touch anything harder than some home grown marijuana for the rest of your life."

Cherry frowned at this, glanced down, and seemed to consider... before nodding slowly. "Fine. I got it. Deal." She held out a hand, and Zerrex took it, thinking they were going to shake... but then she simply yanked him forwards, and their muzzles met in a hard, sloppy kiss for a few moments, before she drew back with a grin, leaving Zerrex looking down at her with shocked eyes and a dreamy feeling floating through his head that told him it had definitely been a long time since kissed anyone in person in this body. "Christ but you're easier'n me. But I gotta run and join my homeboys at the mall, maybe spread my legs for'em too if they're badass enough."

She grinned at this and winked, but then shook her head firmly as Zerrex made to follow her out and down the stairs once she'd grabbed her parka. "Hey, you stay where the fuck you are, cripple-boy!"

"Bite me." Zerrex said mildly, grabbing his cane and leaning on it heavily as he walked after her, and she smiled a bit as she stopped at the door, sliding on her boots and throwing her jacket on, case slung over her shoulder. Then she paused, looked at him, and nodded firmly before blowing him a kiss and a wink, and left back into the winter world without a goodbye.

"See you, Cherry." Zerrex said softly, walking over to the door and closing it quietly as he leaned on it, before glancing up and over his shoulder, smiling a bit as he noted his mother standing there, smoking a cigarette and looking at him softly. "What?"

"You've been doin' good with her..." she said softly, looking at him with a bit of a soft smile, and now Zerrex could see his actual mother in those eyes, before she nodded and headed back towards the living room, adding over her shoulder: "Just don't start smoking any pot with her, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Zerrex had replied softly, then he turned and headed back up the stairs to his room, wincing a bit as he used the cane to support him step after step, leaning against the wall and muttering quietly until he reached the landing... then feeling a cold chill as he looked into the room and once more saw that strange, cloaked figure. This time, however, he didn't let the panic or fear take over, and inside he smiled slightly and said ironically: "There be no such things as ghosts, you're more a bit of undercooked potato than evil spirit... or pot smoke than smoky phantasm."

The shadowy thing swayed backwards, dark motes swirling off it as if it was surprised, and then it started forwards... but hesitated and once more floated back when Zerrex brandished his cane and walked into the room with a frown. "Apart from my misquoting, I will beat the crap out of you with this thing, because it's obviously a solid piece of ironwood. But I guess if I hit you and you're a ghost or hallucination, it'll just pass right through... but if you're this Drake bastard, I'm guessing I'll leave a mark."

The creature floated for a few moments in indecision... then it suddenly melted into the floor before sliding away in a semi-liquid pool between the large shelf and cupboard and up the wall, then through the cracked-open window, and Zerrex blinked as he lowered his cane, then he rested forwards on it and snorted amusedly. "Cool trick."

But the faint hope that had been growing in Zerrex had suddenly been given a major boost, and he could feel his strength returning, despite the pain and darkness that he knew surrounded him, and the fact that he was standing in an illusionary world, trapped in a weak, frail body... but with some strange bits of control despite whatever else was happening, the twisting, turning gears of madness that were working all around him to keep this play going and the stage shining.

He closed his eyes, rubbing at his head slowly, then glanced up at the game system sitting by the television before wondering mildly how far exactly the illusion would stretch... and then a glance at the odachi in the hardwood sheath resting against the shelf, and another, more serious question entered his mind: could he die?

The reptile spent a good few moments looking at the sword... and then a slow smile curled over his muzzle and he simply shook his head with a quiet laugh, saying softly: "Old wives' tale says... if you're about to die in a dream or trapped state like this... you wake up. I think the rules are bent here and a bit different... but overall the same. I can feel pain... pleasure... and everything else... but I can shape this reality too." Zerrex paused, then he closed his eyes and nodded slowly to himself before walking quietly over to the sit back down on the bed and pull up his laptop, once more starting to go through the files and accessing the web service, digging up as many details as he could about this world through the plentitude of files on who he was supposed to be, how he was supposed to act.

All-in-all, though, he found... he was himself. Johnny Guy was the son of Rose Celeste Mundus and Christian LePage, both divorced and remarried: one to Ken Mundus and the other to a professor at the local university, Gillian Koontz-Lepage. Zerrex muttered quietly as he dug through his motorcycle jacket - a search of his room had revealed a hell of a lot of crap, that he was still a packrat in this world, and that he still had a fetish for leather and... scary, gigantic, different-shaped phalluses he kept in one of the cardboard boxes - for his wallet, then produced everything from battered school IDs to a health plan card to his bank card and other paraphernalia. He also had two hundred dollar bills on him, and a credit slip he assumed was from some weeks ago saying he had a balance of almost five thousand dollars in his chequing account.

He obviously didn't have a job... and, upon sneaking downstairs - less sneakily when he found his mother snoring on the couch under a blanket - and checking what looked like an office and the computer and files inside, he discovered a lot of Al-Anon materials, a bunch of job applications, and a sizeable union settlement, as well as notes in a small daybook such as 'withdraw 4000 from Johnny's college fund account.' That made him frown in distaste, but it was likely something he'd agree to, nonetheless. Money, after all, wasn't very important to him...

In short, though, his family was mostly poor... the only reason he'd been attending the local university in the first place because of family connections there through his stepmother, his mother had married into a rich family the second time around - but they'd been separated a long time now, and Zerrex didn't have to guess to know that it definitely had something to do with problems between the three of them who lived here - and he only had money in his account because, despite the menagerie of crap he had in his room... it had been collected over countless years, and there were signs he'd extorted a good few bits of it from some government funding incentive. It also seemed that he'd won a sizeable scholarship, and he had a few honorary awards that were gathering dust in a corner for academic excellence, especially in English. But he got the feeling he cared as much for academics in this world as he did in his own.

He did notice, though, after an hour or so, his eyes began to hurt and things got blurry... and he glanced around for a little while before groaning as he saw a pair of glasses on a shelf, which he'd missed earlier. He looked at these morbidly, then put them on, the arms of the glasses clasping pinching the sides of his muzzle gently to stay in place as he attempted to smooth down his hair, looking up in small mirror on the wall... and then he sighed and mumbled dejectedly as he looked at the computer screen, hating how... everything was suddenly infinitely clearer.

So in short, he was... kinda worthless on this world, except that every few hours he got happy, bouncing emails from Lone... who was called Mahihko in this world... about how much he loved him and had saved him from himself and all this crap. Zerrex smiled faintly at this - it gave him a strange, sad kind of hope, and he couldn't help but wish idly he'd tried harder with the lupine in the real world, worked to make him even better there... but then he shook his head slowly. But for that first day, he kept himself busy with studying the things he should already know: himself.

He realized, after a few hours of this, that he could likely just make things up, and warp reality to his will... just like he'd done with Cherry, and his strange foreknowledge that weren't guesses. But then he shook his head slowly and returned to studying; he'd already started this research, and it kept him busy in a world where he seemed otherwise bedridden before wincing as he tried to straighten his legs and they released a howl of pain. At least his pain tolerance seemed as high as in his old body... and then he blinked and paused.

Obviously, the intangible things... his personality, his mind, and his memories... had remained untouched and the same. Even his abilities to process a situation and overcome his own emotions, once he'd finally pushed free of the panic and terror that had overwhelmed him so completely and led to this humiliating situation after he'd been forced to sit through the shock of his dead father coming back to life with a nasty plan for world domination. But did that mean everything was the same? Sure, he was in physical pain, and his body was much-smaller, and weak and frail looking, but he'd come across an exercise chart earlier that had shown he'd won a bodybuilding thing a year ago, before he'd gotten... sick with whatever he was sick with.

He frowned slowly as he looked down, then he bit his muzzle slowly before tossing his cane away and slowly spreading his legs to shoulder-width, taking in a deep breath as he locked one hand around his other fist, bowing his head, ivory hair falling over his eyes, and then he squared his shoulders and tensed his body with a snarl, gritting his teeth as he assumed the Death Focus: a dangerous, old concentration technique that had been developed by Requiem Narrius, that made the muscles tense, flex, and seemed to unlock the natural limiters the brain put over the muscles as energy flooded the core and concentration was tipped to the max. If done properly, it even killed all the body's pain sensors for a few short moments... and Requiem had used it to defeat groups of armed soldiers without so much as a twitch, swords bouncing off him like toys and moving with a ghastly, unnatural speed and grace.

And Zerrex could literally feel the energy running through his body, could almost see it as he felt it flowing through the circuit of his arms and up through his set feet, flooding into the core of his being, filling his chest in what he imagined was a blue maelstrom that suddenly dispersed into all parts of his beings and left him feeling he was wearing an invincible, body-fitting armor. He looked up, face grim and eyes cold, then he looked back and forth before reaching down in a swift motion and snagging the few feet of iron chain that lay on one of the boxes piled in his room, the links more than an inch thick; but it was like lifting feathers, and Zerrex slid his hands so they were holding the middle of the chain but spaced still a good foot apart, before simply pulling... and like paper, the chain links snapped apart in the middle, a bit of metal flying across the room as the other half of link fell to the floor.

Then the reptile let out a soft breath, opening is eyes and tilting his head back, letting his body relax as his heart thudded in his chest, and his eyes slowly faded from emerald back to hazel as he grinned, flexing a fist, then looking down in surprise as he realized he'd crushed the chain he'd still been gripping in it without even realizing it. He smiled slightly, then gently put both lengths down before looking at his palms... and he blinked as he realized they were lineless. No signs of scale pattern, no twisting curves, no grooves or any sort of mark over them... only a few old scars and cuts.

Zerrex snorted softly, then shook his head slowly before glancing up at the ceiling above... and then making a face as black bubbles began to froth and drip down, then spread slowly. A clawed hand reached through, but no longer did Zerrex feel anything like terror: now he'd come to realize that this nightmare world, whatever else... truly was in his own head, and no longer was there any chance he'd been the one dreaming of Baskin's Grove and that whole life before this. So instead of even bothering to misquote old authors or make irritable threats, he swung his cane in a hard upwards arc instead.

It tore through the dark mass of the hand like it was some kind of strange gelatinous mass, sending dark motes spewing outwards that floated upwards before vanishing, like embers of a dying fire, and the now-split claw twitched violently before quickly retracting into the ceiling, the darkness vanishing. Zerrex frowned at it, but he did admit there was a faint worm of anxiety in him now... this was obviously the Nephilim Drake. And if that thing managed to grab him at an inopportune moment, he didn't know what might happen... and he frowned as he looked down, idly adjusting his glasses, them grumbling under his breath: "Now I just need to learn to control the rest of the world... and maybe the rest of my body, so I don't have to wear these stupid things."

So for a few more hours he sat, bent over his laptop and checking birth records and all the other public information he could dig up, cross-referencing journal entries, chat logs, and his contact lists, address books, and everything else he could find. Whatever else, it seemed that Johnny spent a lot of his time on the computer... although paradoxically, he seemed to love the outdoors and constantly bitched about hating having the technological ball and chain tied to him all the time. And Zerrex could see flashes of himself, his own real personality showing through... especially with this Mahihko character, and Killer, and Reia. People he had obviously connected with... two of whom he knew in the real world - but in this one, Mahihko and Killer were thousands of miles away, and they only knew each other through emailing back and forth - but Reia... he'd never met. Never even heard of, and didn't think he'd ever seen before. But when he finally discovered a picture of her, looking tired and embarrassed, standing in his doorway in a pinstriped dress shirt and a pair of jeans, with a pair of glasses hanging askew down her muzzle, he softened.

She was attractive, without being a prim-looking beauty queen. He liked the way she looked and held herself... a black-scaled dragoness with short horns that curved back, and what looked almost like white hair on her head: closer examination, however, revealed they were thick, long white scales. Her eyes were dark blue... beautiful eyes, he thought. Beyond that, he couldn't make out much, and didn't want to guess... but they had some connection. Apparently they'd argued a lot in the past, too... but... with the bad came the good. Yet Zerrex had the feeling, no matter what happened, she always came back to him... and he always ended up going back to her.

He shook his head a bit, then brushed his hair back quietly before his stomach grumbled, and he blinked and looked down at himself, realizing he hadn't yet eaten anything to do. So he sighed and stood up, then tried to take a step forwards... and his leg gave out from under him, sending the lizard crashing down painfully on his face with a grunt. He winced, cursed angrily, then pushed himself back up to his feet, hissing at the throbbing pain that seemed to radiate from his knees up and down his legs, and the spasming muscles of his hip that refused to carry his weight.

He carefully stood back up, then winced as he realized the left leg wasn't much better... but the right, for whatever reason, was much worse. He shook his head a bit, then grabbed his cane and leaned heavily on it as he made his way out and down the stairs, mumbling again about what genius had put a set of stairs leading up to a cripple's room.

Then he found his way through the short corridor and to the kitchen, glancing idly around before checking the fridge - again, finding nothing, and his mother obviously wasn't going out for any food today with the television still blaring and her snores filling the air - and then he paused and checked the crisper before pulling out a head of lettuce and a few long stalks of celery. Then he kicked it closed and grabbed the ranch dressing as he put this stuff on the counter, using his cane to shut the refrigerator.

There was a good selection of knives standing ready to be used in the little wooden thing sitting on the edge of the counter... and ten cupboards, if he included the pair built into the bottom of the huge shelving unit that also had the microwave and a breadbasket sitting on it, along with a variety of dusty cookbooks. The reptile sighed, then he looked up and said clearly to himself: "This cupboard will contain a salad bowl."

Then the reptile reached up and opened the cupboard in front of him - how freaking long had it been since he'd had to actually reach up to open a cupboard? - and then made a face. There were bowls inside, all right... ones for ice cream, and stuffed in the back. But otherwise the cupboard was filled with all manner of medications... antidepressants, painkillers, antibiotics, and herbal supplements. And, ironically, two large cases of cigarettes: Zerrex was almost tempted to grab one, reflecting that he'd only smoked once or twice in the past and this would probably be the only time ever he could do it without any penalty to himself.

But then he closed the door and instead checked the other cupboards... it was in the fourth one that he checked that he found a variety of plain glass bowls. He took a medium sized one, and then ripped large chunks of lettuce leaves off the main head and shredded these up with his hands before snagging a butcher knife and chopping up the sticks of celery, at the same time reflecting on how weird this was. I'm making a meal for myself in a dream world, to satiate a hunger that likely isn't really there. I'm just... going through all the motions, for no point or purpose, but to make myself feel better. Yet that is the point, isn't it?

Philosophically interesting, otherwise irrelevant bullshit, piped up another voice in his mind, one Zerrex hadn't heard for a while, and he grinned at the almost-welcome, long-despised visitor: it was the voice of his past, the voice of the being he called Ravenlight. Ain't your field and it's way above your paygrade, bitch. So just stuff your face and forget about the rest of the bullshit.

"Been a while since I've heard from you." Zerrex murmured to himself, as he flicked the bits of celery he'd cubed into the bowl with the lettuce, glancing up and not really caring that he was only talking to himself; hell, he guessed that technically, all of this was just him talking to himself, unless Drake was pulling the strings of some of the people around here. "I thought you'd taken a permanent vacation. Good to have some more company from inside my head though, 'cept I note you're still in my head in my head or... whatever."

Fuck you. Ravenlight said disgustedly, and Zerrex could sense the eye roll that went with it, which made him grin as he tossed the knife in the sink and limped over to the other cupboard above the stove, guessing - and being rewarded for his guess - that there would be croutons there. As he carried the bag back over to the salad bowl, Ravenlight spoke up again irritably. Although I'm sure you're enjoying yourself, I would like to point out that you have no clue where you are, what time it is, or anything else that's going on. I hate you, I hate Cindy, I hate Cherry, and I hate Lone, and I even think your other daughter is kinda stupid and prances around way too much for her own good. But to be honest? I hate Narrius more.

"For once we agree on something." Zerrex muttered, nodding as he threw handfuls of croutons into the salad bowl, then stood with his back against the counter and then began to eat handfuls of the hard bits of bread, turning the conversation back into his own head: So what do you suggest we do?

Find Drake, interrogate him, and kill him, came the immediate cold response. No matter what, if this world is of his design, to keep you... trapped, or whatever, then he's gotta be somewhere around here. And I doubt this world is really all that big... if you walked too far out of this town, say, you'd probably just step into a lot of darkness or white space. Imagine how hard it is to manage your chaotic mind and keep your body in... coma, or possessed, or whatever? And since they're using psychological tactics-

I get it, I get it. They're trying to break me down, but for some reason, they can't just put me in a living hell, or just trap me in a dark room with no windows or doors. Which means either my willpower is too strong or there's something else there that's messing with Drake's ability to overpower me. Zerrex responded mildly, then he frowned a bit as he ate another handful of croutons, chewing slowly and relishing the crunching of them between his teeth. So instead they tried some advanced psychological warfare... make me think that... I was delirious, or that it was all a dream and I've woken up from, or that I just got lost in my own head. The story on the computer, Eudaemon or whatever, proves that...

But I didn't fall for it... my faith was too strong. And if that shade that keeps popping up is Drake... he's trying to make me think I'm suffering from delusions that I'm inserting my own friends and family into. And I bet if I go find my 'father' in this world, he'll look just like Narrius... The Drakkaren shook his head slowly. And the hope was probably that I'd get so lost in this world... that I'd believe it so much, become so happy with just living out the end of my days, that Drake could kill me or entrap me in the back of my mind, and they could do... Gods know what with my body.

"But I didn't." he mumbled quietly. "Because they made two mistakes... the stories that I read through aren't exact, and there are too many loose strings and incorrect assumptions on the part of whoever wrote them... and two, I was able to change reality here. Not much, but enough to... manipulate people's emotions a bit, and stuff like that. So I do have some control over this illusionary world. And the more I recognize it's illusionary... the more power I seem to get."

Then he paused and frowned, turning around and generously pouring dressing over the plain salad he'd made. "Of course, that's assuming I'm correct... because this could all be some alternate universe and crap, as well, and this could be my real life... but..."

But that doesn't matter. Philosophize all you want, but do it on your own time! Ravenlight snarled in his head, making Zerrex blink and wince. Don't be an academic shithead that sits around and contemplates problems all day, sitting on his hand with his thumbs up his ass, but makes no action to resolve a conflict that would just take standing up instead of all his fancy words. Or do you want your family tortured, raped, and killed, like Lone?

A roll of fury passed through the reptile, and Ravenlight laughed quietly at this, before he seemed to whisper to him in a seductive, gentle tone: Good... remember who you are. Words don't matter, actions prove things, and the strong, cruel hand will rule above the meek, no matter what the religious icons say to draw the gullible into their flock. I hate helping you, but I also recognize that if you die, I die... so I'm willing to swallow my pride for a little while in order to make sure that not only you, but we get out of here alive. And although I recognize I'm just one little twisted voice in your head, mixed up in that broken collection of files and pictures that makes up your traumatized brain, you owe me a favor if we get out of here; agreed?

"What do you want?" Zerrex asked softly, as he continued to eat, then he snorted laughter as Ravenlight gave his request before grinning slowly and nodding, both loving and hating the shiver of pleasure it gave him. "Fine... I'll let people call me Captain again."

Then he continued to eat his salad as he rested back against the counter, smiling slightly to himself and closing his eyes as he spoke with himself inside his head, running over his plans to capture Drake as soon as possible and get out of this nightmare... and then bring down Narrius for reasons both selfish and paradoxically altruistic.

Of course, by now Zerrex also recognized that capturing Drake - who seemed to have the ability to morph into any shape and pass through any substance he wanted at will, but seemed to still have an issue with being hit with large, heavy objects, at least - would be a hell of a difficult enterprise. Especially since he suspected the entire town would be Drake's playground... after all, almost all of the notes and information he could find spoke only of the town they were in, called Ontario Bay, and nothing else. Apparently there was another town to the north that Johnny had visited a few times... but that was it. No record of even what country they were in... although Zerrex was sure it wasn't either Hez'Ranna or Ire.

On the other hand, however, Drake kept popping up and attempting to attack him... so that meant at least the demon would come to him. Perhaps if he acted terrified, the creature would try and grab him... and Zerrex would promptly tackle it and beat the crap out of it. Or try to, at least... and he frowned a bit as he glanced up at the ceiling, before pausing as he realized something. It was only a guess, true... but then he put the empty bowl aside, licking the last of the ranch dressing off the fork before tossing that into the sink and grabbing his cane to quickly hobble up the stairs.

As he suspected, when he glanced up at the ceiling, he saw a mutltitude of scratches, gouges, and small cracks... what Drake had obviously escaped through. Just like how the window was slightly propped open... or the glass sphere Zerrex remembered seeing before everything went black. In order to move through something, Drake needed space, even if just a tiny crack... but he couldn't simply slide through a solid surface. So if Zerrex could lure him into an area that used airtight doors and windows, like inside a hospital, he could trap the monster and have his way with him. And the Drakkaren grinned a bit to himself as he remembered the menagerie of doctor's appointments on the walls... he was more than willing to bet that he'd be able to 'wander away by mistake' or into the wrong room, and with luck, Drake would attempt to jump him there.

Then he sat back down at the laptop and checked the clock: it was almost four. He smiled a bit at this, shaking his head slowly, then went back to searching through files and over the internet for all the information he could continue to dig up, every now and then idly playing with the kanji that hung on a chain around his neck. Then, after an hour or so, he finally stood and rubbed at his sore legs: none of the drugs he'd taken had done anything for him whatsoever, and he winced a bit before pausing as something poked at his brain.

He closed his eyes, then tried to pretend for a few moments he was Johnny, and he knew and followed all Johnny's habits, and the routines and schedules that it seemed the Drakkaren had prided himself on: wake up around nine, take six hours to rest and go through the chores and exercises of the day, start writing at three, take a break at five or six to...

"Have a bath." Zerrex finished with a murmur, then he laughed quietly and nodded slowly, rubbing at his waist. That actually sounded like quite a good idea to him... and he paused as he tried to think of what else Johnny would likely do... and settled on grabbing his laptop and taking it with him as he headed downstairs, then staggered across the kitchen and to the other bathroom in the house: a fairly large, very clean room with a medium sized tub he could lay back and relax a bit in.

He paused and peered out the door, then blinked as he realized his mother was no longer on the couch before shrugging and leaning back inside, closing the door and automatically locking it and hitting a switch to turn on the fan. He blinked as both of these came so instinctively it was as if he'd been long practicing them... then felt an uneasy shudder pass through him. What if he had gotten things reversed... or Johnny had been alive, had existed... and they had somehow transplanted Zerrex into this body? What if...

Then he shook his head fiercely, not wanting Ravenlight to get riled up again and start shouting at him or cursing him for an idiot: he was already doing that plenty himself. The undercurrent of his thoughts was rife with fury and self-loathing for breaking down and giving in so easily as he had... at least he could have killed one or two of the Unseen and placed at least the tiniest knick in Narrius's army.

He sighed as he glanced at the taps, then he reached forwards and turned the hot up to full and the cold a touch, before using the toilet. Once that business was done - Gods, he hated the body sometimes - he flushed, washed his hands, and then turned the taps off for the water. Gingerly, he sank a foot into it... and sighed in relief at the feeling of water that burned a bit but wasn't hot to the point where he couldn't handle it. With one foot in the water, he turned back to his laptop - placed on the closed seat of the toilet - and then selected one of the music players. He wasn't sure what to expect, but a premade playlist was already loaded into the player he chose... and he shrugged before turning it on, and relaxed back in the water to the sound of electric guitars and keyboards filling the air.

Then he paused and opened one eye as a black mass suddenly poured down from the tap, bringing his legs back in revulsion as it spilled into the water and quickly spread through the tub like oil, spilling around his body and making the Drakkaren snarl as he grabbed the edge of the tub and tried to pull himself out. But the black gunk was sticky and bound to him tightly as soon as it touched him, all the water turning to pitch darkness, locking around his waist like liquid cement and pulling him tight against the bottom of the tub, strings of the black goo rising up to snag onto his back and try to drag him down as Zerrex grabbed both sides of the tub with his arms, flexing and grunting as he tried to pull himself up and out... and then his eyes widened as a shape began to form from the water in front of him.

It rose up slowly, first just a shapeless blob that lengthened and thicekened, before an arm ripped out of the mass, with black, dripping strings hanging from it and connecting back into the singular limb and forming body... and then a head and the other arm ripped out almost simultaneously, a featureless, lizard-head and another matching arm, both dripping of the same dark essence. As Zerrex watched, the form of the being became more defined, the shape more like that of a Drakkaren, until it opened a toothless jaw and rolled hollow-socket eyes back as the features became more and more distinct, Zerrex watching with horror as the watery blackness sloshed around him.

Then sharp fang teeth shot into place, and eyes opened - both of these pure white - before it closed both... and then grinned and reopened its eyes, now with malevolent black irisies. Its body was strong and muscular, form tall, attractive, and chiseled like a god... and then it reached forwards, grabbed Zerrex's shoulder, and the body of Drake shifted into a wave of viscious black fluid that sloshed over the reptile's form and forced him down into the tub as he flailed uselessly against the unmoving, sucking darkness, not even making a splash as the dark strings washed over him and forced him under what had once been water, into a burning hell of suffocating liquid darkness.

His hands bounced and fingers twitched rapidly as the music from his laptop played on and on, voices yelling a chorus of heavy rock that the lizard could barely hear as Drake tried to drown him with his dark essence, struggling back and forth... and then suddenly, a sharp voice cut into his mind, dry and cold: Outgunned, outnumbered, tired, defeated, and suddenly facing not just an enemy platoon, but an elite, legendary soldier... you have no option but to outthink the enemy, because there is no other way to win. And although it seems impossible... there is a correct answer to every problem. The issue of failure only arises when we fail to think fast enough or process every bit of information we are given... and we only fail because we are firm in the belief that we cannot do it, no matter how hard we try.

Requiem... tutor, mentor, teacher... and more of a father than Narrius had ever been to him, even though the Dragokkaren had so rarely been there outside of training and schooling. But immediately Zerrex calmed himself, his lungs aching, heart pounding in his chest, eyes clutched shut and feeling Drake worming his way into his nostrils, through his grit teeth, to clog up his throat...

But now, he relaxed his body, going limp, and the need for oxygen wasn't so bad anymore despite the intense pressure crushing him, since he wasn't uselessly using up all his oxygen and strength trying to flail desperately and making his body work... and then he opened his eyes - the darkness immediately pressed down against him, which hurt like hell, but at the same time, didn't - as he realized again where he was... inside his own head, trapped inside a word, and all he had to do was realize that his body was getting plenty of air... and that Drake was attempting to kill not him, but just this still-conscious part of him so deep, trapped inside this illusionary reality where he had no exit from... and he'd never heard of a hallucination that needed oxygen to breathe.

The logic, of course, was backwards, and the reasoning ridiculous... but suddenly the need for air was gone, and instead all the reptile had to deal with was Drake crushing him, instead of just choking... but he grinned violently: he had a good guess as to how to deal with that. Drake had just show off another trick by taking control of the water... and had somehow made the water so heavy that Zerrex couldn't move that much in or through it... but he'd left himself vulnerable in another aspect.

Zerrex grunted into the dark essence as he forced his foot to slide to the side, the heavy water rocking a bit but not splashing as he felt Drake trying to crush out his eyes, the pressure almost unbearable... and then he hooked the chain of the bathplug with a toeclaw before jerking his leg to the side as hard as he could: and even with all his mighty strength, he was only able to lever the plug open a crack... but a crack was all it took.

The heavy black water began to drain out of the tub, and sudden the force pushing down on him was gone, as the dark liquid vanished with surprising rapidity, and Zerrex sat up with a gag and a loud splash, spitting filthy essence out and watching it slide quickly away, a whirlpool of darkness being siphoned down the drain as the water level in the tub dropped with amazing rapidity, and then, as Zerrex slowly stood, panting roughly, he saw Drake take form again quickly. This time, without any drawn out theatrics, but a quick ripple that went through the water and all but exploded a half-liquid form of Drakkaren made of dark energy into the world, who quickly reached out his claws to scrabble uselessly at the floor of the tub as he stared up at Zerrex with horror... and Zerrex merely rose a hand and waved bye-bye as he pretended to flick a tear from his eyes.

And then Drake's eyes bulged before he exploded into dark motes and black liquid that was rapidly sucked down the drain, and the plug fell back into place with a rattle as Zerrex snorted quietly before sitting down in the tub and coughing a few times, shaking his head slowly and rubbing at his wet head, muttering irritably under his breath: "Bastard messed up my bath. No one messes up my baths." A pause, then he glanced down between his legs and blinked before straightened in horror as a much larger problem suddenly made itself apparent: "What the hell, I'm like... less than a third my normal size!"

As strange a reason as it seemed, the Drakkaren's penis size was an excellent motivator for him to work on getting his old body back, and helped to renew his resolve all the more. It also helped that he had proved Drake certainly wasn't infallible... although seemingly made of darkness, when he 'possessed' an object outside of his own body or made changes to his own constitution, it seemed that he gained the same vulnerabilities as that object... and Zerrex wondered idly how he could work that to his advantage as he stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel from the rack and idly rubbing himself dry before putting his clothes back on, picking up his laptop, grabbing his cane and wandering out and into the living room.

Then he paused to look out quietly at the row of trees that guarded the house from view of the street, staring through the large, wall-size window that took up most of the front wall, and merely stood with his laptop cradled under one arm and still playing his music, watching the snow fall outside and feeling a wave of homesickeness run through him. Something he'd never felt before, because he'd never really had much of a home... even Baskin's Grove had just seemed like a long-term stopping place for so many years, even after Marina had been born. Then he smiled faintly and reminded himself he probably was home... but he was just inside his own head, before he sighed and shook it slowly. So far, his mind was a hell of a terrifying place... and he knew this reality wasn't one made of just his own ideas. Drake had fabricated this illusion to trap him... but now it was time to figure out a way to spring free.

That night, he finished the research he'd needed to do while eating some toast he'd made himself, and tried to have a conversation with his mother; even though he acted as he would likely be expected to, he still felt strange and awkward, doing this... after all, he'd never had the chance to talk to his mother as an adult before. But even though he knew she was just a pretend-being, it was... still a nice experience, a good break for him... just like being with false-Cherry had provided him a small respite from the violence running through his mind and the confusing riddle of this entire world and dilemma. Then he'd gone onto the messaging service around nine, and been happily greeted by Mahihko... and the two had talked, and Zerrex had played his role as best he could, fawning over the pictures he was sense and helping the wolf as best he could, trading affections done in brackets to denote action from word, talking about how he was going to move up to live with him once he finished school that year... and for some strange reason, it hurt. It truly hurt to lie to the poor bastard... but Zerrex shook his head, then he'd finally excused himself for the night. No one else had talked to him, at least, and it had saved a lot of confusion and difficulty.

Then he'd sat in bed, closed his eyes, and nodded slowly. He could do this... he could live this fake life... and most of all, he knew he would remain strong and keep his mind intact, remember that this was the illusionary world... and that he was working to return to reality. And he would keep it secret and silent, and he would break free... and save what could be saved, and kill what had to be killed. And with these thoughts in his mind, he lay down in his bed, absently grabbed a plushy dog that Johnny apparently slept with, and pretended it was his daughter as he closed his eyes and went to sleep... and Drake watched him from the top corner of the room with a confused frown and his arms crossed, a darkness so deep that it seemed to stand out in profile against the dark that filled the room, black energy bubbling around him and motes like dying embers floating around his body, before he finally submerged back into the ceiling and vanished.

His genetic code is different from Patriarch Narrius's. No, you fucking idiot, not like that! Of course it would be different, but he shares almost none of the same genes or genetic details... but he's obviously his son. There's the resemblance in the cheekbones and shape of the jaw, and he's got a few rare Dragokkaren markers that so far seem unique to the Narrius bloodline... but he also only has a few genetic similarities to his mother. Same eyes as her, though, and that hair that was passed down...

Yes... maybe a series of genetic mutations, triggered by the hair growth virus, of all things? It's the best theory we've got... no. I said, no, we can't clone him, because Narrius wants his body destroyed when we're done with it... and splicing him into Gorgon would be like trying to use napalm to put out a fire. Splice him into the Princess and Queen-1.

Patriarch Narrius's prediction was correct. He's immune to soul removal... in fact, if the Empty Ones kiss him, they're the ones who fall over dead. We're running a check on his physical energy signature, but his Klyman test already came back abnormal and with fifty of fifty-two chakras spiked. It's unprecedented...

We've isolated the superior genetic coding in his body and synthesized a prototype enhancement protocol with this... we're going to test it on him, Queen-1, and a batch of soldiers, then keep tabs on the reactions of the first and any extraordinary developments in the latter... we also did genetic reconstruction surgery to upgrade his metabolism so we can keep his body serviceable for long-term testing, under orders from Patriarch Narrius.