The Kingdom

The Kingdom is a mysterious realm formed within the dimensional space between Earth and Echo. Here monsters and magic as common as technology and science. As a world caught between two others, the Kingdom experiences much turmoil at the hand of its tyrannical ruler referred to as the King. Under his reign, the amount of violence, disappearances and sightings of grotesque and mysterious monsters has increased, leading some to believe that he is responsible for more than the Knights, mean and woman who serve the King without fail and have been granted terrifying power as a result, and Super Beasts, living weapons of mass destruction based on beasts of old and legendary monsters.

Besides the Kingdom itself, there are eight known offshoots: The Darkened Fortress, The Enlightened Monastery, The Abyssal Keep, The Alchemist's Village, The Demon Lord's Abode, The Dark Lady's Domain, The Forgotten Clock Tower and the Void Master's Labyrinth.

The Legend's Successor
"Damn, we're running out of time," hissed a woman garbed in black as she and a younger man approached the edge of the King's territory. They were being followed, more aptly described as chased, by a pack of mechanical hounds sent by one of the tyrannical ruler's Knights. The beasts were quickly gaining, but if they could reach the border before the machine beasts caught up to them, they would be safe. The entrance to the Labyrinth grew larger upon the horizon, if they could keep up the pace, they would surely make it.

"Almost there," willed the young man, but as the words left his mouth, several blades pierced his back. The life drained from his eyes as he fell, releasing the woman's hand with the last of his will to not slow her down. She did not slow down or turn around, she had to continue forward or else his life would have ended in vain. Still, tears fell as she ran, barely making it into the safety of the Labyrinth.

"Iam," she whispered, wiping her face of tears slowly as she slumped to the ground. After taking some time to grieve over her lost comrade and old friend, she made her way towards the central portion of the place she referred to as home.

Several hours later, the woman was speaking with the one who had sent her and Iam on the mission that had cost him his life, the eponymous Void Master.

"Are you certain," they ask, looking over her report, "If what you say is to be believed, we do not have much time before the Death Knight is deployed... Thank you for your hard work and my condolences for your loss, Iam was..."

"He was a good man," she says, balling her small hands into fists as she bit back more tears, "W-what are we to do about the Death Knight, Void Master? Surely you do not think that we can handle a being with even a tenth of Dullahan's power, even with our defenses!"

"Calm yourself, Lyria," says the Void Master, holding up a hand, "I have already foreseen this outcome and prepared for it. Soon a hero from another land will be called here." Lyria scoffs.

"An ordinary man from our neighboring countries will fair no better against such a creation," she says.

"Who said another country," remarks the Void Master, smile forming on their concealed face, "The hero shall neither hail from this world, nor shall they be human, Lyria. In fact, they will hold power that belies their appearance and will arrive within the hour..."

A large ring begins to glow with magic as lightning crackles across its surface. Strands of violet energy form within it and flow upwards before a beam of brilliant light cascades downwards, revealing...

Zane appears in the light back facing the two. Zane Looks at them over his shoulder at them. "What's going on here?"

"You have been called, Hero, to prevent a titanic threat from wreaking havoc on this world at the behest of a tyrant," answers the Void Master, bowing slightly. "May I ask who you are?" Lyria remains silent and watches Zane with a scrutinizing expression.

Zane smiles. "I am Zane Shade. Dragon Prince." Zane Looks serious, "Why have you called me here?"

"You, a prince," questions Lyria, "...Appearances can be deceiving. The Void Master has answered your question already, we request your aid in stopping the use of a living super weapon called the Death Knight."

Zane turns around "Okay then and yes, I'm a Prince. So, tell me about this Death Knight?"

"Unfortunately, we know little about the Death Knight and its full capabilities, but we know that the being it was based on is possibly the strongest monster within all of the lands," says the Void Master, "Judging by that standard, we can assume that it could at least level a country to ash. The only other things that we know are that it requires an object referred to as the Star of Alvercise to function properly and that it will be activated in five days time. The only way to get more information would be to enter the King's domain."

"It would be easier to fight him if I knew more about him. So, I guess we might just have to find out then," Zane says with a smile.

"Indeed. I can arrange for transportation into the King's territory, but beyond that we will not be able to aid you once you arrive," says the Void Master. "Is there anything you may need before you go? If so, I will arrange for you to have them by the time of your departure."

Zane makes sure he has his swords and he does. "Anything you would suggest?"

"A disguise of sorts and possibly a satchel of useful items," intones Lyria, "You stand out too much as you are now, even with the King's people's outlandish style of attire."

"Lyria makes a good point... I shall arrange for both of those to be gotten to you." The Void Master touches their concealed chin. "Until then, Lyria shall guide you around the area we refer to as home." The woman looks at the darkly robed figure with disbelief before sighing.

"Follow me," she grumbles.

"Lead the way." Zane moves to stand next to her.

Lyria leads zane through several corridors, labeling each area as a laboratory, library, arcane research room, scrying room or another of the various other types of facilities. She stops at a portcullis.

"This is the Labyrinth's exit. Beyond this lies the King's domain."

"Have you been in there before?" Zane asked.

"Yes, I lost a good friend because of that excursion..." Lyria balls her hand into a fist, "You'd better be as good as the Void Master thinks."

Zane smiles and looks into the labyrinth. "I'm sure I'll surprise you."

Lyria only huffs in response. Several minutes later, a few robed men appear and have Zane a somewhat large satchel and a bundle of clothes that look modern yet somewhat dated.

"So is this all I will need?" Zane looks at the clothes and look at the satchel. "What is in here?"

"The essentials, probably tools, some medical supplies and a potion or two."

Zane smiles. "This should get fun." Zane puts the clothes on his shoulders and takes the satchel, "Wish me Luck."

"Good luck, don't die," remarks Lyria before directing Zane back to the place from which he was summoned.

Zane begins to walk off, but looks over his shoulder back at her. "Trust me, I didn't plan on it." Zane half grins.

Once he arrives at the Void Master's chambers, he finds a seal on the ground.

"It is almost time for you to go, hero. Don the gifted garbs and I shall transport you into the Kingdom as best I can," says the Void Master, standing on the far end of the seal.

A Time, Revisited
The Lost Clock Tower, the oldest known structure within the land referred to as the Kingdom. Shrouded in a dense sea of fog that dulled even the mind's eye, it was a very difficult place to find, let alone reach due to the guardians of the area, the dreaded knight of death, Dullahan, and the grand immortal dragon, Ouroboros. It was here that a story would unfold.

A man in a tattered brown trench coat that flows open in the front walks out of the building. His faded military gear underneath show some experience, while a sniper over his shoulder shows his good aim. The Mk 16 FN SCAR mod 0 in his hands shows expertise. His grey and white hair shows through a bullet-ridden fedora.

A sea of fog lies before him, rolling and churning like the sea. No sounds come from outside of the somewhat decrepit structure or from within the dense, almost palpable fog.

The man walks as though this is comfortable, but his face is focused and his finger tight on the trigger. Finally, he gets out of the dense fog. "Damn good-for-nothin' shit, 'dit is." he states as he relaxes his finger and walks into a severely hidden bunker of sorts, putting up his weapons and hat, but keeping the trench coat. "Home sweet lonely home! Life is a fuckin' miracle..." He grumbles something intelligent before putting the tower on a map that covers a large wall, making sure to make a map of the building on a smaller sheet.

A familar slithering sound echoes from outside the bunker, the ground rumbling as earth and stone are ground from the slow yet powerful movements. A blaring hiss sounds followed by a manner of screams of terror and agony before silence returns to the outside of the bunker. The signs of the bloody mess would be gone within the hour, lost in the fog for eternity.

"Well that happened," the man says as he sits on his bed and maps some of the routes he found.

The silence is deafening for hours, the ground slowly rewinding back to its undamaged state as the night continues. Various clicking and scraping sounds can be heard above the bunker, particularly several metallic clangs directly above him.

"Fuck off Brandy!" He continues his work.

The clicking ceases after a few minutes, until a rather loud ding sounds and a dent forms on his door.

Military training kicking in, he pulls his Judge revolver from it's holster while he gets his maps in a bullet-proof satchel, putting it across his upper body. He then goes and gets his rifle and Mk 16 as wells as many other clips of ammo.

By the time he's done, the door has been pierced by sets of sharp claws the size of cleavers. Abruptly the door is ripped away, revealing a wall of fog. Clicking akin to morse code is heard from outside.

"That is just fuckin' swell..." the large man says as he puts his Mk 16 on burst. He slowly approaches the door, careful not to make a sound as fog enveloped the room.

The lanterns flicker out as chilling moisture soaks into them. Metallic clicking enters the room.

"Show your damn self!"

The room goes dead silent. For some reason, his weapons seem to be emitting a high pitched whine and are vibrating extremely violently.

"Who the hell are you?!" The towering man says as he turns around and around. "Show yourself, fuckin' coward!"

A cleaver like limb stabs at him in response as his weapons begin to vibrate at a higher rate. Several sets of red orbs train themselves upon him and the stench of decaying flesh mixed with rust and sour blood permeates the area.

"Looks like the guns won't work." he says as he puts the Mk 16 away and shoots green beams of energy at the space the arm reaches to, then aims at the red orbs.

There is a slight dinging sound as the beam bounces off of a surface and several other limbs swing towards him.

A few blue hex shields show in front of him, blocking the limbs as he jumps over the being and runs past the doorway. After he is out, he checks his satchel and keeps running until the fog disapates. He doesn't look back as he sees what he thinks are humanoids. "Hey! Hey! Help! There's a motherfucking monster!"

Metallic scraping can be heard behind him as the fog thickens around him. To his far left trails a faint blue light. The humanoid he sees turns out to be a tall, pale figure wearing white, bloodstained executioner's garbs. Its neck is bent into an impossible angle and black liquid seeps from the sack like mask covering its face. A chain dangles from its broken neck and a massive cleaver hangs in one if its hands.

Behind it stands a man maybe in his twenties with silver hair, icy blue eyes and a pale complexion. He wears a white and silver suit with gold filigree and a matching set of gloves, pair of shoes, top hat, monocle and cane. From the side of his coat hang several pocket watches.

"At least it's better than Kim Jong Un... Or Il..." he mumbles as he runs past the figures. He fires a few beams at the creature, dissolving some of it's armour.

The sound of energy being bounced off of armor is heard as the scraping continues after him. The figure in the suit points in the direction the man came from, sending the lumbering being away.

The man stops, looking at the suited man. "Thank you. That shit-for-brains was after mine damnit! That was my only safe house left!" He looks angry as he fishes out a ballistic helmet and exchanges it for his fedora and puts some military gear on in the stead of the coat. "But, thanks man."

"..." The suited man says nothing.

"Cat got yer tongue? Fine," the military man says as he turns and continues his journey.

"Only a fool ventures into the unknown without an idea of what's to come..." The humanoid wielding the cleaver returns with several black gashes across its chest. It gurgles something then abruptly goes silent.

"Only a fool yells at the Grim Reaper and Pimp King for help!" the military clothed man replies over his shoulders.

"The 'Grim Reaper' is to your far left, this fellow is an Executioner," shrugs the man in the suit. "As a soldier venturing through my Fog Barrier, you must be a fool indeed."

The soldier stops and turns around. "My name is Joe Phillips," he starts, "and I've lived in this Fog Barrier since the Korean War. So, I know how to kill these beasts, I just wanted to save my maps. I have now mapped every part of this barrier."

"That's where you are wrong. It is because I allow the barrier to show lenience upon you that the maps you made work," tuts the suited man, "The fog is unforgiving without my intervention, more so than the few beasts you've encountered." The man checks a watch. "I've spent enough time here. If you've the courage, ascend the clock tower and ring the bell thrice... Just know, the fog will no longer hold any quarter for you, Soldier." The fog envelopes the Executioner and the man in the suit, growing far more dense and ominous. The sound of rocks shifting to the tick of a clock becomes audible as the fog swirls around him.

"Thank you, kind sir..." Joe says as he looks at his map and follows it to the clock tower before it shifts. he begins to ascend. "I hope all goes well. And God bless that man."

Joe finds himself at a pile of rocks instead if the Clock Tower.

"Ah, Damn it all to HELL!" Joe yells as he looks at the rocks. He turns east and starts to walk, being careful to keep an eye out. "Shoulda followed Pimpster the Hypster over there..."

Joe finds himself at a broken rampart.

Phillips walks around it, going into the space it's protecting. "Brandy," he starts, "you there buddy?"

Joe hears the something very large slithering in the area, the ground tremoring as it draws closer.

Phillips looks in the creature's direction and runs at it. "This is for Brandy you monster!"

Before he can complete his charge a cavernous maw opens and devours him whole, his body torn into a bloody slushy by rows upon rows of serrated teeth and thousands of tons of pressure exerted by the beast's throat.

A knife blade pops out of the beasts stomach and trails up it's throat to the head, and continues until he is out of the beast. Joe says, "Damned beast... Killed Brandy..." as his armour and skin begin to repair themselves.

The blade fails to pierce the serpent's flesh, leaving Joe to be completely crushed and dissolved by the acid in the beast's stomach, becoming something akin to a single calorie from fat in its diet.

Joe takes a breath in as he reincarnates. He wakes up outside a palace. His weapons and armour are gone, leaving him naked. Phillips stands. "Lovely. Died again..."

Nothing stirs outside of the palace, yet Joe gets the feeling that he's being watched.

"HELLO?! Hey?! Hiya?!" He tries to gain attention. "Got a bath?"

A regiment of knights clad in draconic black armor, armed primarily with shields, spears and swords funnels from the castle. A knight with red streaks in their armor addresses him.

"Foreigner, state your business. If you are here on peaceful terms, we will allow you entrance, but your abilities will be bound unil your true intentions are revealed," they state. "If you understand, nod once. If not, be a man and make it known."

"If I had bad intentions, you may not have had the chance to open your mouth," Joe starts as he nods. "I'm here because I was killed and, good for me, I have reincarnation. Isn't that damn swell?" Joe then turns to the Castle. "Where am I?"

"I do not like your tone, but seeing as how no one has come under fire, I'll humor you." The knight has the others stow their weapons before continuing. "You are in our lady's territory, a land opposing the tyrannical rule of the one referred to as King. Now state your business, lest I have you expelled from this area as you are."

"I am General Joe Phillips. United States of America Marine Corps. I've fought in three wars son. And I have no business. I just need some clothes and a gun and I'll be out of your way. I'm an experienced recon and infantry fighter. If I wanted I could prove my worth by disarming every last one of your sad little resistance. You have swords? So what? Going to war with those toothpicks? You need some weapon to trump that damned King. I could be that weapon." And at the finish of his last sentence, Joe's hands turn green and all but the supposed leader of the group is disarmed, their weapons turned to dust. "I mean you no harm. I just. Want. Clothing."

The weapons remain unaffected.

"You have no idea of that which you speak, Phillips. I will not pretend to understand your place of origin nor your designation, but you should know, this place makes whatever you've gone through look like child's play if you believe three wars is worth any notice." The commander makes a gesture and Joe feels all of his power fade away, more so as if something is sealing them. "Try anything like that again and you'll reincarnate inside of a volcano next time." A black sack is tossed at his head along with a small asymmetrical key.

Joe puts on the clothing after taking the tie off of the sack and opening it. "Thanks..." he says. Phillips then walks up to the leader and looks down into his eyes, towering over him. "Tell me, whats this key for? And whats with all the black around here?"

"It seems you do not recognize what you asked for," says the commander. "Black is a color of camoflage here. I'd not question it if I were you."

"Then humor me, boy, what did I goddamn ask for?" He moves closer. "What is this key for?"

The other knights begin to mutter.

"Uh oh..."

"Oh boy, this won't end well..."

"Go commader, fight, fight fight!"

"Have my children bo- OW!"

The commander twitches.

"Please repeat that, Phillips," they say, a rather volatile feeling about them suddenly.

"Please, call me Joe, Jester," responds Phillips. "I said humor me. Boy." He gets close enough to smell each other's breath. Joe is about a head taller with more lean muscle showing, making him overshadow the captain, separating him from his men. "Humor. Me. Jester."

Joe finds himself in a Sharpshooter, with well over a dozen spiritual blades embedded into his body, before he realizes what's happened. At somepoint all of his limbs were dislocated and the force of gravity upon him multiplies by well over twentyfold. A pronged pike is embedded around his neck and a very poisonous energy begins to seep into him, making him feel very sick very quickly. His arms are shattered and pinned by swords comprised of some sort of crippling aura.

"He really pissed her off..."

"Lady Iylessa is easy to anger..."

"She's the epitome of beauty in hu- OW!!"

"Shut up Rian!"

"Want to run that across me again, Phillips," growls the commander. In front of Joe a blurry, demonic red figure appears, wagging his finger at the soldier.

"HA! A GIRL fighter? Are you serious?! HA!" his arrogance spoke. Small blue hexagons take out the swords as Joe stands, already healing. "Girl, let a man do his job. Get back in the home, got it? And tell whoever tried to take my powers to suck it... Ha! A girl fighter! That's a good one!" Phillips wipes his tear of laughter away as all turns back to normal.

Joe finds himself back on the ground, a burning blade through his family jewels and his legs from beneath the knees removed and cauterized. His arms are again bound as Iylessa repeatedly stomps on his manhood in her armored boots, at one point igniting her armor and all of Joe's blood from the inside and out.

The blue hexes return and free him and he slaps her across the face, landing her on the ground. "Know. Your. Place. Woman." He turns and starts to heal as he walks past the guards away from the castle.

The instant he touches Iylessa, he is engulfed by flames rivalling that of the sun, if not far surpassing them, and is burnt to ash. The Commander huffs.

"Women are just as capable as men, ass." She stalks off, the knights under her command giving her a wide berth, wanting to not incite her temper any further.

Joe's bones form from the remaining blood, then the muscle and skin. "HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT! That hurt!" he yells as he gets up and follows the commander. "Were you trying to kill me?! I mean, that really hurt, you bitch."

Joe feels the ground beneath him melt from heat as Iylessa sends a sharp look in his direction before disappearing into the palace.

He jumps before it fully melts and shoots his acid lasers at her armour, vaperizing her to the bedclothes. "There. You made a mockery of me. I made one of you." He turns and walks away. "I'll sleep out here." He takes the sack off the ground and uses it as a blanket as he lay asleep near the outer wall, snoring loudly.

The commander intercepts the laser with a wall of flame, halting it.

"You're the only one who's done any mocking." The rest of the knights follow her inside.

Joe wakes up to see a white-blonde female in camo pants, high-heeled boots up to her knee, a high-calaber sniper over her shoulder, a large machine gun in her hands, and bullet belts over a black sports bra and a silver dog-tag holding necklace that says 'Abigail Phillips' and 'Navy Seals' on it is crouched down over him, watching him like a hawk.

Joe speaks, "Hey Abbie, how are you?"

"Good," replies a bored tone. "We got some new toys back at base you need to try out."

"Good. I see you brought clothing?"

"In the bag."

Joe walks over and gets his clothing on, picking up a new mk 16 fn scar mod 0 as well as a few knives and handguns. He then returns to her side as the stare at the wall.

"Think she will come out?" the girl says.

"Nah. All I got was a soldier girl attempting at being a commander, having no control over her subordinates."

"Think they'll help us?"

"They may try. I was being myself and she was a dick."

"Yourself isn't a good person."

"I try. I dive a tank for God's sake!"

"Lets just go." Abigail says as she turns away. "How'd you die?"

"Ouroboros."

"Talking about others behind their backs is rather unsavory, especially when you skew things to make yourself look innocent." The commander returns, wearing clothing akin to a black overcoat over dark combat fatigues and a black crystalline plate mail. Feathered greaves decorate her legs while a beaked visor covers her face. "If you aren't entering the palace, you are to leave."

Abigail turns around. She plainly states, "This dumbass was supposed to come to ask your mistress' assistance against the Kingdom. Sounds like he didn't do a good job." she slaps Joe upside the head and crosses to Iylessa. "Thank you for your hospitality and paitience towards him." She holds out her hand.

Iylessa glances upwards.

"The lady wishes to know what you would offer in return," she says.

"We would offer the best stratagists to advise decisions and weaponry and healthcare far more advanced than your own medical offices. One general is here. And, I promise they aren't all as dumb as him." she smiles a little before having her bored expression again. "And, we'd have an alliance to help build our own empire. Your mistress and our commander-in-cheif would be leading it, of course. You get half spoils from the Kingdom."

"You seem to take what you see as the truth. We choose not to use guns and the like, those being reserved for our Dragoons and Riders. What you may perceive as primative is probably more complex than what you're used to seeing, after all the people do not age, the technology does," she says flatly, not boasting or gloating. "You'd have to prove the worth of your group before milady will accept. If you can defeat or repel the Wanderer of these lands, the proposition will be considered."

Abigail touches a finger to her ear before speaking. "Joe will face them. Please do not mistake this for taking your proposition lightly, he just hasn't won a fight in days and needs the morale boost. And the only power I have is regeneration and metal bones. He is the best chance we have to get you guys on our side fast."

Iylessa grunts in reply before entering the palace.

Joe speaks after a few seconds. "Were we supposed to follow her?" which gets a soft grunt and shoulder shrug from Abigail.

No reply comes from the palace other than the gate shutting.

"Guess not..." Abigail says as she climbs the wall and pulls her sniper from her shoulder, positioning herself to see the entire battlefeild.

"Hey... Where are you going? We are supposed to fight this thing!" Hoe says once he notices her. He puts his weapons and important armour by the wall, leaving him in a grey t-shirt, black fire boots and camo leggings with a black belt.

The battlefield is empty, practically vacant. Some brush moves because of the wind blowng it, but little else moves. This remains the same for hours until a figure garbed in a sandy, tattered cloak appears at the very edge of the field, moving erratically and with no purpose.

Joe walks up to him. "Hello. I am General Joe Phillips, of the U N E C. I'd like to ask who you are and if you are or have seen the Wanderer."

"...Are you a Challenger?" The being rasps, their voice muffled as if they are wearing a mask beneath the cloak.

"I guess I am." Joe readies himself as Abigail puts her finger off the trigger. "Ready?"