Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Releasing tomorrow's chapter a little early.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Deletion and Unaware

"The 'G' files have been deleted," someone said before being quickly followed with someone replying, "The 'H' files have been deleted."

Cloak was aware that Yarin wasn't too happy with his stance. He knew that it made him unpopular with the Nyac. But he would not yield. He's seen in his own species history just how easily one could be swayed into corruption. Its one reason that he fears his own power -- the way he dealt with the siren had actually opened his eyes . . . he was no different from others of his species. He could just as easily be swayed by power -- which is why he never sought political office. Actually, no Elements Master ever did. He suspected that it was for the same reasoning that he, himself, did not, otherwise it just did not interest them. To be fair -- he only other Elements Masters that he knew personally were his grandfather Sage, ancestor Avatar, and his niece Shadow.

Cloak folded his arms, a nonverbal cue that he was standing by his assertions, that he would mulishly defend his position. Just telepathically probing people left, right, and center? How can that not be a slippery slope? Yarin had proved how little restraint that he had with all those microwaves he tried to build, even after the colossal FAILURE of his first prototype. Frankly, Cloak wondered if he did it already, and just didn't say anything.

No, no. He didn't detect any lies in his communication about it. But still . . . throwing away any restraint is a surefire path to abusing your abilities, ignoring the terrible responsibility that even having such abilities come with, that it entails. There were various applications of his powers that Cloak would never dare to even dream using. Like what he called 'breathbending' -- aerokinetically pulling the air from a target's lungs, asphyxiating them. He probably could use that, but that didn't mean that he should.

Granted, what Yarin suggested wasn't anything that severe. But Cloak saw the trappings there . . . the trappings that would lead him deeper down that path. Just because you can do something, it doesn't mean that you should. Yarin may have thought it was a "nothing" request, a "no-big-deal" sort of suggestion. But what's to stop him from asking permission next time? And it wasn't the guard's permission that he was asking for, either. Cloak didn't use his powers so willy-nilly, and he resented the fact that the Nyac seemed to think that, judging by the obstinate look upon his face whenever he cast a glance at him.

Restraint. Measured control. These were the things that Sage had always taught him when he was training in all six elements. His abilities were, unsurprisingly, tied to his emotions, so he had to maintain the same level of control over himself as well. For if he lost control of himself, he lost control of himself. And every time that he did, he made situations worse rather than better. He didn't forget their first encounter with Garrotik. Cloak was so blinded with emotion and a single-minded goal, that he wound up empowering Garrotik, rather than weakening him. He had made their situation worse on that occasion. Had Richard not arrived when he did, and seemingly slew the monster . . . Cloak preferred not to think about it.

"The 'I' files have been deleted," Aquilai said, while Goom followed up, saying, "The 'J' files have been deleted."

Melissa continued flipping through the database files, mulling over the N'Kai, N'rrgal, Na'kuhl, Nagai, Nakkadan, Namekian, Namekian frog, Nanochip, Narglatch, Nasat, Nausicaan, Navarino, Necrofriggin, Nedenah, Nek, Neimmoidian, Nemuina, Neptunian, Neptunian slug, Nesk, Netcaster, Neti, Neutral people, New God, Nexosporidium, Nexu, Ng'ok, Nharpira, Nibblonian, Nilian, Nimbanel, Nimon, Nitrium parasite, Nometian, Noorian, Norcadian, Nos monster, Nosaurian, Nosedeenian, Nudj, Nuknog, Null, Null Guardians, Nuna, and Nyork entries.

"None. Again," she muttered. "This is proving to be not worth the effort."

"The 'K' files have been deleted," Xeno declared, as, moments after, Guy announced, "The 'L' files have been deleted."

Yarin thought that Cloak was being a complete hypocrite. He uses his powers all the time, even frivously. His Earthsight is literally always "on". And yet he wants to criticize him from using the powers that he was born with? He wasn't going to wreck the guard's mind looking for information. He had never done that, and he never had any intention to start. He wasn't that ruthless.

Yarin gave the Realm Walker dirty looks, to match his scrutinizing glances. He thought he was so much better, didn't he? Sure, not all of Yarin's inventions panned out, but all of them were made with good intentions at heart. The FYI was invented to help with world hunger in not only this, but other worlds who were struggling with the same thing. He had no intention on charging any amount or sort of currency for it, just the satisfaction that he helped someone. He wasn't a tyrant, he was a philanthropist! He always worked for the common good, and always did things with the very best of intentions.

Was it his fault that other beings wanted to misuse his inventions for their own benefit? That they sought them for with nefarious goals in mind? Was it really his fault? Was it Buick's fault when one of their cars are used for vehicular manslaughter? Was it Alexander Graham Bell's fault for people making harassing phone calls? Was the intended misuse of his inventions really his fault? Was it truly his responsibility for any ill done from them? Why did he have to take accountability, the responsibility, for the malicious intent of others?

He wasn't as ruthless as Cloak was suggesting. He wasn't. He wasn't. Although . . . he did render the Furons unable to reproduce normally. He had effectively sterilized them all to end a war. And he did it with little regret at the time. On that, he did bear responsibility for it. On that, he had to be held accountable for that. He . . . he was ruthless then. He did it, without consideration for any after effects. But he was . . . he was a different person then. He was. He was young, reckless, naive . . . he wasn't like that anymore. He wasn't.

Was he?

"The 'M' files have been deleted," Yarin said, tonelessly. Moments later, Aquilai proclaimed, "The 'N' files have been deleted."

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Search FAIL!!

"The 'O' files have been deleted," Xeno announced, while Goom pronounced, "The 'P' files have been deleted."

Cloak reflected on his conversation again, trying to see in a more objective way. He was willing to admit that he probably handled it in a rather poor way. He was willing to acknowledge such. He was aware of his flaws, because he did have his flaws. Perfection was an impossibility, as far as the Realm Walker was concerned. He wasn't perfect, and everyone needed flaws. No one liked someone who believed themselves to be perfect in everything that they do . . . but he didn't know about John Perdigiorno, the guard outside, and the fact that he was evidently married to a globetrotting well-off wife.

"The 'Q' files have been deleted," Yarin said, tonelessly, while Guy declared, "The 'R' files have been deleted."

He would have to apologize for his forcefulness of his beliefs. What right did he really have to force his beliefs on others? He was being obstinate, he knew. It was something that he inherited from his mother. He would be a fool to not acknowledge this, and disavow it. He could be quite stubborn when he is convinced that he's right . . . something else that he inherited from his mother. But, unlike her, he knew this aspect about himself, and he could look at himself in a somewhat objective light.

"The 'S' files have been deleted," Aquilai reported, while Guy reported, "The 'T' files have been deleted."

Granted, Yarin wasn't entirely faultless, but it could have escalated needlessly.

"The 'U' files have been deleted," Goom announced, while Xeno reported, "The 'V' files have been deleted."

***

"What's this?!" Miranda demanded. Her search for the species in the "O" file hit a snag. She was apoplectic with rage when she saw the "O" files just came up with an error screen. Probably useless anyway . . . though she was still miffed about this. What if the species she was looking for began with an "O"? She would just cross that bridge when she got to it, but this caused her health to deteriorate at a slightly more quickened pace.

She tried to look at the "P" files. "File not found". She erupted, "WHAT?!"

She quickly shifted to the "Q" files. "File not found". She was starting to panic. She needed to find that species. It was the only way to save herself! It was her only salvation!

She tried to search through the "R" files. They weren't there, either! This wasn't going to be good for her health, much less her heart. She

She tried to search through the "S" files. Gone! All gone! These were all gone!! Her heart began to palpitate in a rather concerning manner.

She tried to find the "T" files, desperately. These were gone as well. The "U" files and the "V" files were gone as well . . . and her access to the "W" files was being denied! Her health was worsening with each letter, as well. If she didn't calm down . . . well, searching the files would be the least of her problems. . . .

***

"The 'W' files have been deleted," Aquilai pronounced, while Yarin tonelessly declared, "The 'X' files -- not the show -- have been deleted."

Yarin was now considering how he was handling the entire issue, as well. He considered that maybe that he hadn't considered all the potential drawbacks. He realized that he was just making excuses. Making excuses and attempting to shirk blame away from himself. He was running away from responsibility, and accountability, for his inventions. As much as he didn't want to take the blame, refusing to, when his inventions are misused, was not bravery or noble. It was cowardly . . . he was cowardly . . .

"The 'Y' files have been deleted," Goom declared, while Guy said, "The 'Z' files have been deleted. It's done."

"Then let's get out of here," Cloak said, at once. "Pull out at once!"

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Untying Up

The RAFians easily left the server room, and left the facility -- only barely registering how the guard outside the room was gone. They never knew that he had awoken in the middle of their hacking, and decided that he "didn't feel well". So, he went home without another word. Didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, They proceeded carefully and cautiously from the facility, until Cloak recognized the fact that there was a countdown going on.

They pulled the incapacitated and unconscious guards away from the facility -- it was clearly going to blow -- and untied them, and laid them where they slumped. They would regain consciousness in a few hours, and Empress Goose was just happy to get out of Dick's body and his disorganized mind. Then the RAFians were quickly extracted.

It was just another successful mission -- they've been having a lovely string of them as of late. And Cloak and Yarin would have a powwow later on to sort everything out.

***

Miranda was livid. She was feeling very cross, and she wasn't able to get up and go see what went wrong. She didn't have the strength, and what was more crushing was that she'd never discover the species that could have changed everything for her. The species that could have healed her of this malady. The species that could make her beautiful once more. Now, that would never happen.

Granted, she never thought about how she would manage to get into contact with this species and get them to help her, but she considered that a problem for another day. She had to have found the species first. And she didn't. All she saw were USELESS, feckless species that didn't have anything she wanted or needed. She knew the species was black with flecks of gold, but knew nothing else. She didn't even have a name to go off of. She had very little information on them, and now? Now she would never find out. She would always look like this hideous, heinous hag. She'd never reclaim her former beauty again. Her body would always be this twisted, weak thing

She struggled to breathe now, her heart laboriously pumping blood that was thickening into a lead-like viscosity and.was beginning to curdle in her veins. She didn't have long. And what more did she have to live for now? She had no hope of surviving the next few minutes. It was all for nothing. All the work it took her to hack into those files and copy them. Her legacy was forgotten quickly at CADMUS -- she knew this to be true without being presented any evidence supporting or denying this assumption.

Well. It might be over for her, but she wasn't about to go to -- to wherever it was that people go to when they die, alone. She would take the entire facility with her, and any of those guards too stupid to leave this place. That Perdigiorno idiot was probably asleep at his post again. Good -- let that lazy layabout met their maker with her.

With the last of her remaining strength, she initiated the facility-wide self-destruction sequence. Surprisingly enough, it worked, unlike a lot of things in this place. Red light flooded the corridors, washing out actual color for reds and blacks. She was bitter. She was resentful. She was angry. These three emotions, combined together, often make a very noxious, dangerous ****tail.

She was unaware that Quentin, despite the warnings, went to her, wanting to save her. Such was his devotion to a woman who wouldn't even give him the time of day. She had no romantic interest in anyone besides her reflection. She was well aware of his narcissism, but was indifferent and ambivalent towards it. She just hoped to see everyone suffer as she had. The accident that had robbed her of her beauty was just fate ripping off her metaphorical mask and showing the world what she was on the inside. A monster.

Quentin desperately tried to make it to her, only succeeding when the first explosions started to go off. There was no escape from their fate now, and Miranda never found out about the species that she desperately wanted to save her . . . the Technarchy. More specifically, their techno-organic virus that they used to feed. . . .

***

John arrived home, but he wasn't alone. He wasn't smart enough to know this, however. He just ambivalently went through his day. His wife, Goldie, wouldn't be back for a while. She was away on business on the other side of the world, making the real money of the relationship. This suited him just fine, as he didn't really want her company all that much. He didn't marry her for love, he married her for her money, and the fact that she had a well-paying job, which she wouldn't elaborate on to him. Which was just fine by him, as he didn't care much about that.

Most of his interests were directed at himself and his enjoyment. He was careful not to be a big spender. He already had that lecture from his wife, and did not care for another one. He was just fortunate that she had no interest in kids -- he didn't want any. It would mean that he would have to grow up and shoulder some real responsibility. And he didn't want to do that. Especially not when he had such a good thing going here. He didn't need to worry about his creature comforts. Well, there was one that he could never indulge in.

Let's just say that he wasn't the most loyal of husbands, but he didn't want to damage his meal ticket, so he never indulged in cheating on Goldie. He continued to maintain the facade of actually caring about her. He didn't want his gravy train to end. He wasn't a very smart person, but he was smart enough not to take Goldie for granted, and knew that he should be rather servile around her.

Anyway, he went home, unaware that someone was there waiting for him. Waiting to ambush him. He went about his business -- took a shower, started to do some laundry. They were well-off, but not enough to employ servants. Sure, there were a couple of cats, but beyond that, the house was empty, almost deserted. It usually was, and he was glad for it. He always secretly dreaded when his wife was in town, as he wouldn't be able to do as he pleased.

He gasped, feeling a pinprick on his neck, roughly five o'clock. He plucked out what appeared to be some sort of dart. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. He was not feeling well at all. He was having difficulty speaking, which quickly progressed into difficulty breathing. His felt his heart beating irregularly. Soon his entire body felt numb. Then sounds suddenly became more and more muted, and he was having difficulty being able to smell anything. He couldn't taste anything, and his vision was blurring. His mind was slowing. Soon his vision, hearing, and touch were nonexistent as he fell..His mind began to numb itself, before his very thoughts themselves ceased. He was now lifeless.

A lifeless skin, still in his casual clothing.

"There," said the one who did this to him, holding a blowdart gun in his right hand. It was Larry Dunn, and he wasn't wearing the Ed Carmichael skin, but au naturel. Carmichael Convertir was currently wearing the Ed Charmichael skin, while a new member of their little cartel was wearing the Ricky Carmichael skin. This new member was in the need of a new job, and he decided to join them, because it seemed to be fun to him. Leon Wyatt agreed to be a member of their little cartel, and now was pretending to be a kid. "A new identity for us."

Larry didn't hesitate to put on John's skin. Larry's extra bulk managing to be compressed into the skin, and given him some extra height, so that he looked exactly like how John looked moments before. He was also able to psychically gain John's memories while he wore his skin. His voice was modified into that of John's. No one would be able to noticed the distinction, that John was dead now, and his skin was being worn like some sort of spandex suit. No one would be the wiser.

And it wasn't John that Larry was truly after. It was Goldie that truly held financial control in this relationship, and that money could prove useful to startup their little cartel. They might be able to recruit more members . . . fortunately, that ocre concoction he used to turn John into a skin was not easily to come by, and far more difficult to make. Larry only had enough for one more . . . and the cartel was only three member strong, right now . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Pumped Up

Shenmue went to a water treatment plant that was evacuated because a fiend made the facility its nest. But, if you asked her, it was more like a sewer. But without the smell. So she decided to be grateful for small favors.

Anyway, descended into the the sewer-like water treatment plant, and she noticed several OSHA violations. There was no way that these working conditions were safe -- there were sheer dropoffs without handrails or the like. She wondered if that was because of the greedy owners or something that the fiend itself did. But that wasn't the point of her mission. She proceeded forward.

It seemed as if she was just going down, via dropshafts. It was almost like they didn't want to splurge for ladders. Fortunately, her RAFian training trained her for situations such as these. Then she finally landed on a landing that had pipes underneath, and it looked as if they were leaking, as this part of the facility was flooded. Perhaps it was a method of cleaning water that she was not really aware of.

Anyway, she continued forward. Of course, her feet got wet, and her socks were soaked through. That was an incredibly uncomfortable feeling, especially because she hadn't spare dry ones. In any case, it would be futile and pointless, as this area was incredibly flooded. they were gonna get wet anyway. She slipped off this pipe-laden walkway, and found herself treading water. Wonderful. Anyway, this was the way forward, so she continued through this almost-intentional gauntlet. She came to an area where she would either have to go underwater to proceed further, or get to a drier area of the facility to make the same progress.

She chose the drier area, pulling herself out of the water. She tried to dry herself as much as she could, before moving on. She moved forward to an ascending ladder. She still thought that this place was a sewer with pure water instead of sewage. When she came to the landing of the ladder, she moved right and climbed another ladder. Once she reached the landing of this ladder, she saw more damaged pipes, as she jumped over a chasm. Clearly, there was, at one time, a walkway here, but she guessed the fiend found it insulting or something. Because it wasn't their anymore.

As she moved forward, she saw many more damaged pipes. She was sure that these were caused by the fiend. No human would do this, nor would want to, no matter how deranged that they were. Then she dropped down a dropshaft, and found herself treading water. Again. Shenmue wasn't very happy. She proceeded forward, out of the water, and down another dropshaft. It helped dry her off again, so she was only slightly damp again. She landed and went through a windy corridor. She fell into a dropshaft, and climb a staircase into another dropshaft. When she landed, she saw the fiend in its nest in the next room over.

The fiend had a black, noseless face with round eyes that had orange sclera and black irises. The rest of his head was orange with a gold ring at its temples, silver human-like ears, and huge orange crest shaped like the handle of a water pump, which it could detach and throw like a boomerang. The main part of its torso was cylindrical, with a huge, gold water nozzle coming from the cylindrical part of its torso, with a silver ring connecting the two. Its shoulders were round, black spheres and its arms were purple accordioning hoses connected to an orange connector to another gold hose faucet on its right, and an orange lower arm and black left hand. Its crotch was black, its thighs were white, and orange shins and pod-like feet.

The room had ankle-deep water in it, and it was perfectly square. When the fiend saw her, it roared a bestial roar. Then it started by hydrokinetically creating eight bubbles around itself that looked like water droplets. Then it jumped around trying to tackle Shenmue. Fortunately, it telegraphed this intent very well, and she was able to dodge (most of time actually managing a "Matrix" dodge). Then it fired these eight bubbles at her, and she managed to avoid it. She didn't quite know how she did, but she did. Then she had to basically limbo under the pump handle crest that it threw, like a boomerang. When it caught it when it came back, it reattached it to its head.

Then it began its attack pattern again. These fiends rarely, if ever, changed up these attack patterns.

Shenmue raised a finger up to the sky, and called down a lightning strike that struck the fiend headon. At first, it didn't seem affected. Just that its droplet shield dissipated. But Shenmue knew that it took the damage. So she did it again, and again, and again. Until the fiend was no more.

***

Demos called it a "ponpusapien".He intended to use it to purify water, and use it to take care of graffiti in cities.

***

Malice was really worried now. She felt that she was quickly becoming irrelevant. She didn't like being marginalized in such a way. She had killed for less.

Seriously.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

BOOK CCLXVI:
EXILED -- BECAUSE OF SPOILERS
CHAPTER ONE:
Solar-Powered Fiend

Cloak took up the fiend mission. He needed some time to get his thoughts out, to parse through them. He knew he had flaws, he knew that flawlessness was impossible -- everyone had flaws, just not everyone was willing to acknowledge them in themselves. The humans call it "smelling their own farts" or something like that.

Anyway, Cloak went to an obsolete sunlight research center, which was a tower-like building. Apparently, it went under and had its funding stripped away because the government didn't like the lack of results. Cloak suspected it was because they wanted to weaponize sunlight -- but he was politically cynical at this point in his life. He wouldn't put it past the Realm Walker Council to pull something like that, and this government seems to be just as corrupt, maybe slightly less.

Cloak climbed up a ladder to a conveyor belt that pushed him forward, and he leaped to another ladder. He made it and he climbed up. Then he saw that there were two conveyor belt platforms before him, leading to another latter. There was no ceiling, and Cloak could see another pair of conveyor belt platforms above him, leading to another ladder directly above him. So he took that ladder instead.

Atop the ladder, there was another conveyor belt leading to a gap between the conveyor belt and another ladder. A lot of ladders. Cloak was starting to see another reason why this funhouse facility closed down. Anyway, he climbed up and walked out the crumbling landing. Down fifteen feet or so, was another conveyor belt platform. Cloak leaped down and then leaped to the ladder on the opposite side, and deftly climbed up it, into the ceiling that he couldn't see from the bottom of this tower.

Cloak proceeded forward . . . coming to a sea of flames, beneath several platforms. Cloak wondered if was OSHA that shut this place down. This had to have been a violation. But he reached the other "shore" beyond this, and hoped that he was done with the sea of fire thing. Was that here before this place was shut down, or a result of no maintenance? Questions for another day. Cloak continued forward, through a shutter door that showed some melting damage. He was going the right direction. The fiend went this way.

Then there were what appeared to be pyrokinetic constructs of songbirds the size of Cloak himself. Cloak wasn't intimidated. At all. But, if they came from the fiend, then it had to be reasonably close by. Cloak snapped his fingers and the constructs popped like balloons, before moving beyond the second set of shutter doors, finding himself at the bottom of another tower. Cloak quickly made his way to the top, not bothering with the ladders this time, and rising to the top atop his energy disc. He had to climb up a ladder in order to get above the ceiling. He moved forward . . . and found another lake of fire, and the platforms "floating" atop it were these conveyor belts, these treadmills.

Cloak narrowed his eyes, and decided that the wasn't doing this. He formed his energy disc again, and careened through this until he came to the other side. He climbed up the ladder on the other side. Upon the landing that the ladder, he came to a room where there were two long ladders leading to the ceiling of this room. He formed his energy disc again, and just zoomed upward. Then he came to a room, and found another ladder on a higher platform from where he came out on. He took the ladder, and continued onward, towards his right, as soon as he came to the landing it led to. After a short hallway, he came to the fiend's nest. The room appeared, at first glance, to have no ceiling. The floor was situated over two pools of fire. There were four pillars, two toward the walls and two in the center of the room. There were bridges connecting all four.

The fiend had a black, metallic face with a faceplate instead of a mouth and human-like eyes with dark green sclera and purple irises. At the crown of its head was a perfectly flat, gold-tipped, green pad with four short, gold, stubby prongs -- it is from this were it can channel sunlight in an offensive way. It had a white neck, with a dark purple poncho-like shield on its torso with three emeralds on its chest. Its upper arms and thighs were white, its lower arms and shins were dark green, its hands and pod-like feet are black, its wrists were silver, and its crotch was black.

When the fiend saw the Realm Walker, the entrance to its little nest was sealed off and it demonstrated its strength in a show clearly intended to intimidate. It failed, naturally. Then it began its attack pattern.

It jumped around the room, firing the stellar energy from its head, which were more fire-based than light-based, sufficient enough that Cloak could deflect these shots. It occasionally tilted its head towards the RAFian, clearly telegraphing its intention to absorb Cloak's energy-based shots in order to power its stellar energy attacks. It always used this solar blaze in its most powerful form, and it shot three of them into the air that fell in his position. Cloak deflected all of them.

Cloak formed a shield of water droplets -- he wasn't taking this fiend really seriously -- which canceled out its attacks and hit it multiple times. It reduced the size of this solar blaze. This fiend was extremely easy to subdue and destroy because of this. Cloak easily unsealed the room, and left with the fiend taken care of.

***

Demos called it a "sorasapien". He claimed that he created it to help out a sunlight research center.

***

Malice paced around impatiently. This fiend battle was just background noise. She was suffering from severe scheme block.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWO:
Dreams

After the fiend mission, Cloak went to his thread, and meditated. He was back in the black void. He was looking at still, three-dimensional representatives of things that he didn't understand. He didn't think these were species of his imagination . . . he thought that they were real, but he didn't know how. One had the legs of a penguin, the head of an eagle, the body of a chameleon, and the forelimbs of a mammoth, while the image opposite had the main body and head of a tyrannosaur, forelimbs of a mastodon, chest of a pterosaur, right leg of a Smilodon, and left leg of a triceratops.

Instead of being allowed forward there was some sort of tablet that blocked him, but only briefly. He only noticed the Realm Walker characters analogous to "C", "L" "XX", and "VII". He ignored it and moved the tablet as if he was opening a door.

On his left was a creature who had body, arms, paws and head of a white tiger, the left front leg of a pegasus, the left back leg of a griffin, the right front leg of a kirin, the right back leg of a griffin, a shishi (or Chinese guardian lion) armoring, and firebird talons on its right hand. On his right was a creature with ostrich legs, alligator arms, moth body, and the head of a snail. Neither was exactly pleasing to look at, being a horrible mismatched set of parts.

The tablet was there again, real "Ten Commandments" style, having the analogous Realm Walker characters for "CLXXVIII" and "CLXXIX". Once again, Cloak ignored it, and pushed it aside, as if it were a door.

On his left was a creature who had the head of a crane, the ursine body of a bear, the left arm of a wolf, the right arm of an ape, and the lower body of a gorilla. While on the right was a creature with the head of a rhino, the arms of a tiger, the body of a catfish, and the legs of a buffalo.

The tablet once again appeared at the end of the hallway. This time it had the analogous Walker characters for "CLXXX", "CLXXXI", "CLXXXII" and "CLXXXIII". They were also blue, almost as if they were hyperlinks. Cloak paused only a moment, refusing to consider this, and pushed it aside once again, as if it was a door.

On his left was a creature whose right lower leg was a moa, whose left lower leg was a Dogu, who had the upper torso and arms of a sphinx, who had the waist and upper legs of a bull, and who had the head and back of a phoenix. While on the right, directly opposite this other creature, was one that the legs of a spider, the wings of an owl, the torso of a dragon, and the head of a pea****.

The tablet was once again acting as a door to this small little room. It had the analogous Walker characters for "CLXXXIV", "CLXXXV", "CLXXXVI", "CLXXXVII", "CLXXXVIII", "CLXXXIX", "CXC", and "CXCI" on it, with the analogous Walker characters for "MCCXXXVII" on the bottom. He, once again, ignored the importance of this, and pushed the tablet aside, as if it were nothing but a large door.

On his left was a creature with the head and chest of a lion, the back, wings and waist of a condor, the hips and legs of a gorilla, the left arm of a wolf, and the right arm of a wildcat. On his right was a creature with the legs of a grizzly bear, the arms of a firefly, the body of a whale, and the head of a kraken. Both were frozen in action poses, with the one on the left looking a bit more stiff than the one on the right.

Before him was the large tablet that blocked his way like a door again. This time it had the analogous Walker characters for "CXCII", "CXCIII", "CXCIV", "CXCV", "CXCVI", "CXCVII", "CXCVIII", "CXCIX", "CC", "CCI", "CCII", "CCIII", "CCIV", "CCV", "CCVI", and "CCVII". It had the analogous characters for "MCCL" on the very bottom. All of them were blue, like hyperlinks. Cloak ignored it again, and shoved it aside to enter the area beyond.

On his left was a creature with the body of a lion, head of an eagle, right arm of a shark, legs of a bison, and the left arm of a white tiger. On his right was a creature with the head of a bat, the arms of a tyrannosaurs rex, the body of a pegasus, and the legs of a rose bush. On his right was a creature with the head of a dung beetle, the body of a clam, arms of a water flea, and the legs of a dragonfly. Both were in rather stationary positions, but both looked unfriendly.

He looked at the tablet-door, and saw that it had "CCVIII" "CCIX", "CCX", "CCXI", "CCXII", "CCXIII", "CCXIV", "CCXV", "CCXVI", "CCXVII", "CCXVIII", "CCXIX", "CCXX", "CCXXI", "CCXXII", "CCXXIII", "CCXXIV", "CCXXV", "CCXXVI", "CCXXVII", "CCXXVIII", "CCXXIX", "CCXXX", "CCXXXI", "CCXXXII", "CCXXXIII", "CCXXXIV", "CCXXXV", "CCXXXVI", "CCXXXVII", "CCXXXVIII", and "CCXXXIX", with "MCCC" at the very bottom. This gave Cloak pause for only a moment or two, before pushing the door aside and moving on.

On his left was a creature with the left arm of a black bear, the right arm of a polar bear, the head and torso of a gorilla, the right foot of an armadillo, and the waist, left foot, and legs of a rhino. On his right was a creature with the head of a hammerhead shark, the body of a turtle, the wings of phoenix, and the legs of a wolf. Both were posturing in these still images, trying to look intimidating.

Then he looked at the tablet-door here, It had "CCXL", "CCXLI", "CCXLII", "CCXLIII", "CCXLIV", "CCXLV", "CCXLVI", "CCXLVII", "CCXLVIII", "CCXLIX", "CCL", "CCL", "CCLI", "CCLII", "CCLIII", "CCLIV", "CCLV", "CCLVI", "CCLVII", "CCLVIII", "CCLIX", "CCLX", "CCLXI", "CCLXII", "CCLXIII", "CCLXIV", "CCLXV", "CCLXVI", "CCLXVII", "CCLXVIII", "CCLXIX", and "CCLXX", with "MCCCL" at the very bottom. Cloak hesitated just a moment, before he batted the thought away and pushed the tablet-door aside and moving into the next area.

On his left was a creature with the left arm of a wolf, the right arm of a hammerhead shark, and the rest of its body was that of an alligator. On his right was a creature with the legs of a gorilla, arms of a hyena, body of a crow, and the head of an anteater. Both looked like they were beginning a menacing walk cycle but frozen mid-frame.

Then he looked at the tablet-door here. It had "CCLXXI", "CCLXXII", "CCLXXIII", "CCLXXIV", "CCLXXV", "CCLXXVI", "CCLXXVII", "CCLXXVIII", "CCLXXIX", "CCLXXX", "CCLXXXI", "CCLXXXII", "CCLXXXIII", "CCLXXXIV", "CCLXXXV", "CCLXXXVI", "CCLXXXVII", "CCLXXXVIII", "CCLXXXIX", "CCXC", "CCXCI", "CCXCII", "CCXCIII", "CCXCIV", "CCXCV", "CCXCVI", "CCXCVII", "CCXCVIII", "CCXCIX", "CCC", "CCCI", "CCCII", "CCCIII", "CCCIV", "CCCV", "CCCVI", "CCCVII", "CCCVIII", "CCCIX", "CCCX", "CCCXI", "CCCXII", "CCCXIII", "CCCXIV", "CCCXV", "CCCXVI", CCCXVII", and "CCCXVIII", with "MCD" at the very bottom. Cloak wondered idly if this was important, but shook his head and moved forward, pushing the tablet-door aside once more.

On his left was a creature with the head and main torso of a falcon, the right foot of an armadillo, the waist, left foot, and legs of a rhino, the right arm of a giraffe, and the left arm of a stag. On his right was a creature with the head of an ant, the body of a trilobite, the legs of a panda, and no arms of any sort.

Then he looked at the tablet-door that appeared at the end of the room. It read more numbers before ending with "MCDXXV".

It was at this point that Cloak woke up.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Sussing It Out and GH's Duel

Unlike some of his other dreams like this, this one stuck with him. Not the monstrous chimeras, but the door-sized tablets. Those letters inscribed upon the doors . . . the ones that look like hyperlinks . . . what did it all mean? He knew that it meant something. Was this a Truth Dream? What could it possibly mean? Did it have something to do with his . . . his Memoirs? He had been writing it all down in secret. He wasn't afraid of Dwellers getting their hands on them and reading them, as it was written in Realm Walker script. Even then, it was chicken scratch.

He didn't have all the answers. Veil, he didn't have even one. But there might be one person who does, one person whose come back from the Veil in his visions. This time he would seek out Aniyu for answers. Cloak sat up and immediately began to start to meditate.

***

Gh was playing his guitar for Leatherhead, telling him of something that happened a couple days prior, after work.

"Shenecron went down to the forum,
He was looking for a soul to steal.
He was in a bind, 'cause he was way behind,
And was willing to make a deal.
When he came across this young man
Sawing on a guitar and playing it hot,
And Shenecron jumped up on a hickory stump and said,
'Little boy, let me tell you what:
I guess you didn´t know it, but I'm a guitar player too,
And, if you'd care to take a dare,
I'll make a bet with you.
Now you play a pretty good guitar,
Little boy, but give ol' Shenecron his due.
I bet a guitar pick of gold against your soul,
'Cause I think I'm better than you!'"

As GH played, the memory surfaced, and he wondered why Shenecron was acting as if he didn't know GH was a RAFian. Eh, probably didn't matter. GH played on as Leatherhead listened raptly.

"The boy said, 'My name's GH and it might be a sin,
But I'll take your bet, but you're gonna regret,
'Cause I'm the best there's ever been!'
GH, furrow up your brow and play your guitar hard,
'Cause all hell's broke loose in the city and Shenecron deals the cards
And, if you win, you'll get this shiny pick made of gold,
But, if you lose, Shenecron gets your soul!
Shenecron opened up his case and he said, "I'll start this show"
Fire blew from his fingertips as he formed up his pick.
He plucked the strings of the infernal guitar and it made an evil hiss
Then a band of demons joined in,
And it sounded something like this."

GH played on, the music scary and intimidating, especially for one Leatherhead's age, but he knew that it was part of the story. And it was perfectly true when GH had his solo encounter with Shenecron. Then after this instrumental pause, GH continued:

"When Shenecron finished, GH said,
"'Well, you're pretty good, old son
But, sit down in that chair right there,
And lemme show you how it's done!'"

Then the demonic chorus of Shenecron loyalists sang:

"Fire on the Mountain  run, boys, run
Shenecron´s in the house of the eternal sun.
Chicken in the bread pan a-picking out dough,
Malice does your dog bite, 'No, child, no'"

The GH picked up the story again after a musical interlude.

"Shenecron bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat.
He laid that golden pick on the ground at GH´s feet.
GH said, "Shenecron, just come on back
If you ever want to try again,
I told you once, you son of a --"

GH had to remind himself of the age of his audience and censored himself.

"-- gun.
I'm the best there´s ever been'"

Then GH concluded the song, fortunate that Shenecron didn't hear it. Demos's half-brother had found that encounter woefully humilitating. Even his loyalist demons had abandoned him after it. He vowed to destroy every guitar he saw afterward.

At least, until his anger cooled.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq4KcI9AGl0

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Aniyu's Answers

"That's the long and short of it, Aniyu," Cloak said, having easily found her. She seemed to almost suspect the subject of what Cloak wanted to know. "I know the chimeras don't mean anything. But those letters . . ."

"Numbers."

"What?" Cloak said, sharply.

"They were numbers," Aniyu said. "One hundred seventy-seven, one hundred seventy-eight and so on. The last number was fourteen hundred twenty-five. They're like the Roman numerals in Dweller Earths."

"But . . . why? What do these numbers mean?"

Aniyu said nothing at first. The hesitation wasn't because of intimidation or anything of the like, it was more like she was searching for the proper words of how to put it. "I can only guess, going off what you've told me."

Cloak said nothing, and his silence prodded her further on into speech, "It sounds like it was a Truth Dream."

"But a dream of what truth?" Cloak pressed.

"It sounds like it was indicating . . . Destiny's Diaries," she said, almost as if it was an unpleasant thought.

"That sound like a romance novel," Cloak said, dismissively. "As if destiny could write a novel."

"But . . . she did," Aniyu said.

"Wait, what? You mean a personification of destiny, right?" Cloak said.

"No, Destiny was an ancient Realm Walker," Aniyu said. "Far before my time."

"Who was she?"

"No one knows what her form was. Most Walker historians refuse to reference or acknowledge her existence," Aniyu said. "All I have is stories and conjecture and speculation. Nothing is certain, other than the existence of her diaries -- even though they have never been found."

"What are the stories?"

Aniyu took a deep breath, before continuing, "She was a powerful clairvoyant. Whether she saw future events sequentially or every twist and turn that it might take, it is unknown. But what is known is her predictions always came true, so that the leadership raised her up and venerated her and celebrated her. Some may have even worshiped her."

"But it didn't last," Cloak guessed.

"No, it did not," Aniyu said, with a sigh. "It came to pass that the leadership were replaced with Realm Walkers who were arrogant and corrupt. Arguably, the first corrupted Council -- as you know, there's a long history of corruption in the Council and Realm Walker politics. Even in my time. They rankle and chafed when Destiny made predictions that they didn't like."

"They decided that she was a fraud, didn't they?" Cloak guessed again. "Decided that she was lying because they were too busy, as the humans say, 'smelling their own farts'?"

"Exactly," Aniyu said.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Destiny's Tragedy

"Destiny never complied with their secret demands that she make favorable predictions," Aniyu said. "Almost as if she saw this a long time beforehand, and knew how to deal with it. She apparently just accepted it, because she had already gotten over the shock of it decades before it happened."

"Bet that didn't make the corrupted leadership back then very happy," Cloak surmised.

"Correct," Aniyu said. "they tried to force her hand. But you can't force predictions, and she told them such. They didn't like that, and they didn't like her prediction that their power would never remain. That a balancing force will appear and slap down their regime."

"I'm assuming that she was either assassinated or smeared from then on," Cloak said.

"The latter," Aniyu said. "an outright assassination could be linked to them, as their animosity towards her was well-known. They'd immediately be accused in the fallout. They decided to be cunning. They didn't come out and smear her, their dislike and enmity was too renown. They used lesser known members of this leadership to lean on the information outlets, and smear her. It was obvious to anyone who looked into what was happening."

"But the propaganda took hold anyway, didn't it?" Cloak said, his jaded nature showing itself.

"As it always does," Aniyu said. "It swayed one or two people, and then they spread the propaganda. Skeptics were bullied and maligned and smeared themselves, spreading the propaganda even further. It was like a virulent disease, a plague of stupidity and hearsay. What was once considered heresy was becoming commonplace. The numbers of skeptics continued to dwindle due to the overwhelming pressure and insidious infection of the propaganda, and how the skeptics themselves were marginalized and ostracized by those with far less information."

Aniyu seemed to be taking this personally, Cloak noted.

"But, Destiny had evidently foresaw all of this, judging by her reaction of calm, graceful acceptance to all of it." Aniyu said. "As if she had anticipated all of this, but she never let that sway her predictions from the absolute truth. No matter how much she was slandered as a liar and a charlatan, she accepted it with poise and elegance. She never lowered herself to lose her temper or lash out at her detractors and slanderers. She had saw this happening decades prior, and so she accepted it long before it had ever happened. She foresaw her own 'fall from grace', and had long accepted the inevitability of it."

"And she did nothing to alter it," Cloak said.

"She saw her own actions affect the future, Cloak," Aniyu pointed out. "She saw that how knowledge of the future led to people fulfilling her predictions. Predictions that they sought to avoid, they ended up fulfilling, instead of not doing anything at all. She predicted that anything she did to try to mitigate what she foresaw would lead up to what she foresaw anyway."

"Like an ancient human called Oedipus," Cloak noted. "The guy who unwittingly killed his father, who wanted to dodge a prophecy, and unknowingly married his mother."

"Something like that," Aniyu said. "The propaganda even infected some of her family, but not her closest family or friends. They refused to abandon her, overlooking the ostracization and stigma that they, themselves, received. Eventually, they exiled her to the lands that would be the area where the Realms would eventually arise from, and they forced her closest family and friends to not have any contact with her. They even gave her a new name that was spoken with derision and contempt, even to modern day."

"Exile," Cloak answered, remembering the story now. "But why is so important? Sure, her story is tragic and all, but what does this have to do with the tablets in my dream? Why are her diaries so important?"

"Because her diaries contain all the future events that she foresaw with stunning clarity. She wrote it all down before her death, unaware that she would pass on a more fragmented, more diluted, and more vague version of her ability to her daughter, Prophecy -- who changed her name to Pragmatist, to distant herself from this fallout. She never told anyone about her ability to dream the future."

"Are you suggesting what I think you are . . . ?" Cloak said, dropping his folded arms.

"Destiny, or Exile, is our distant ancestor," Aniyu said, with a nodd. "She's the origin of Truth Dreams."

[Cloak]

Once again, I'm releasing tomorrow's chapter early. Then I'm going to bed.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Destiny's Descendant's Decision

"She . . . that makes sense," Cloak said, quietly. "Is that why I got that dream? Am I supposed to find her diaries that are supposedly existent?"

"I cannot tell you with certainty, I can only tell you what I suspect," Aniyu said. "There were rumors that I've heard about their hiding place. Some say that only a descendant could find it, others said that they didn't exist, and still others said that they were up for grabs to anyone who found them, who passed some trials to get them. I can't tell you which is true . . . in life, I've never sought them out. I . . . I never wanted the responsibility for them. It was enough to struggle with the Truth Dreams."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Cloak said. "There is a human saying, 'with great power, comes great responsibility'. It rings true."

"I cannot tell you if you should or shouldn't go and find them," she said, seriously. " To the latter, no one could blame you. No one has sought them out for generations, and those who did . . . never found them. Those are the one who wasted away into oblivion in order to find them, wasting their lives, energy, and resources. To do the former . . . it comes with a great responsibility. To keep them . . . or destroy them."

"They can be destroyed?" Cloak asked.

"I assume they can," Aniyu said. "none of the rumors claimed them to be indestructible. As I've said, I've never sought them out. You can, but you are not obligated to. I can't, and I won't, make that decision for you. It must be for you to decide, young Truth Dreamer."

Cloak fell silent, considering all the aspects and intricacies of the decision, as well as the possible ramifications and consequences of following through with finding and obtaining the diaries, and those of not doing it. He kept coming to the fact that people might misuse the information that was contained within them. Misuse and abuse it.

He couldn't allow that. He hadn't any intention on using them himself -- one should not know too much about their own future. That would be dangerous. Like the Oedipus example Cloak cited earlier -- people who try to dodge prophecies usually end up fulfilling them. Not that Cloak ever put much stock into fortunetelling and such. But, if Destiny was as good as Aniyu said . . . these diaries could be incredibly dangerous. Good or bad, these diaries could cause much damage -- although, Destiny probably foresaw if her diaries were found by the wrong hands. She probably foresaw it before she ever wrote them. . . .

Cloak started to feel a surge of sympathy for his ancient paternal ancestor. What a burden this future sight must have been. What a burden to struggle with. How did she ever accept this undue weight that was given her? How did she manage with this sort of omniscience that her clairvoyance gave her? Just knowing all this ahead of time, long before any major or minor event occurred. Just knowing the immutability of her actions having on the future. It was this aspect that rubbed Cloak the wrong way, however.

He refused to believe fate, or destiny, or whatever was called was truly immutable, unchangeable. Cloak steadfastly believed that one made their own futures through action and inaction, through decisions and indecision. He heavily resisted the idea that everyone's fate, destiny, or whatever was set in stone. He refused to believe in temporal immutability. The one constant in existence, he had always found, was change. He found it hard to believe that everything was destined and preordained to happen. Even with his Truth Dreams, he had always assumed that he was glimpsing possible futures, not just a sequential series of events that would occur no matter what he did. Perhaps this was the limiting factor of Destiny's powers, maybe she could only foresee one timeline.

But that didn't mean that the diaries weren't harmless -- the information within could always be perverted in ways that not even Destiny could conceive of. Cloak had a choice, one that Destiny probably already foresaw before her expiring to Beyond the Veil, like any other Walker. Well, not all Walkers, if that rumor was true -- but that rumor was just that. A rumor. A ridiculous rumor that couldn't possibly exist.

"What is your decision, young Truth Dreamer?" Aniyu said. "Whether you go or not, you will always have my support."

Cloak had the freedom to choose whether or not he would got through with it. He could just refuse and rescue GH from that bathtub of coffee once again. He could choose to ignore the ridiculous prophecies and predictions located within, and just go about his business. He could just choose to shirk and reject this responsibility.

But he could never do it. His sense of duty, his sense of responsibility, his conscience, his diligence would not allow it. They would weigh on him forever until he did what he knew must be done. It would not leave him alone, he knew. The guilt alone was enough of a motivator to go through with this inane mission for diaries that claimed to predict the future. Cloak would go through with it, but he would not believe a word of it.

"I'll do it," he told Aniyu. "I'll do it, and I'll destroy the diaries."

"Understandable," Aniyu said, with a nod, "but, sadly, I can only point the way for you to start the trials. After that, I cannot tell you what comes next."

"May I ask why?"

"Yes, you may, " she said. "And the answer is because I never went beyond that point in looking for the diaries, and that was completely by accident. I just happened there, and never desired to seek them out."

"Where do I go?" Cloak said.

[Cloak]

Guess I'm gonna be a chapter ahead.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Trials of Destiny

"This is as far as I ever got," Aniyu said, showing Cloak a wooden archway. Cloak was still technically meditating, his corporeal form was still inert and oblivious in the Prime Universe. Cloak never bothered to question the semantics of this stuff, as he felt that it would be unnecessarily complex and such. One could question if there was even a physical copy of the diaries, as Destiny could have been so ancient that it was before Realm Walkers managed to manifest corporeal forms -- but no . . . Realm Walkers before then were analogous to Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals of the human evolutionary lineage.

Cloak chose ignorance in this regard. He didn't want to think about the semantics of this. Perhaps the diaries would just spontaneously manifest when he stopped meditating? Assuming he could obtain them. Assuming that they even existed. Perhaps this was a security measure on the part of Destiny, to ensure her diaries did not fall into the wrong hands. Who knew? Cloak wasn't going to pretend that he did.

"Thank you, Aniyu," Cloak said, with a small, curt bow. Then he looked up at the archway. He was really doing this. He was really going after some diaries that may have just as well been blank. Any effort he put into this, it might just ended up to futile and ultimately fruitless. But, then again, that's true of all things. Cloak took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold.

Behind him, everything faded out and fade away leaving a blinding white, misty expanse beyond the archway. Part of him wanted to leave immediately but he suspected this may have been one of the trials. He pushed forward, and onward. He hadn't a clue what laid before him when he moved onward, and it gave him a moment of trepidation. But he wasn't just a Realm Walker. He wasn't just an Elements Master. He wasn't just a Truth Dreamer.

He was a RAFian. He pushed forward, bolstered by this thought. It gave him strength, and motivation. He would get the diaries, if only to protect his RAFian friends from them. If only to protect them from if they fall in the wrong hands. Cloak looked at his Mark, and his resolve was set. He strode beyond the archway, knowing what he must do, though not knowing how he would get there. Just that it must be done.

***

"You need to watch that," a relatively new RAFian, Cain Elido Kane, said condescendingly, with a sort of elitist drawl. He had short-cropped black hair, glasses, and an upturned nose, as if he was always smelling something foul around him. He was tiny and rail-thin, with a predilection for wearing black. He was completely obnoxious -- even more than Rotiart was at his worst -- and he only aspired to sit on his butt. But he wanted the recognition and prestige he saw in being a RAFian, and he wanted "something to do". However, he didn't want to do the work to achieve that. That was for the others to do, as he saw them as lesser than himself. Less important, despite them accomplished far more than he ever did.

"I'm in the middle of something," Xeno growled. He was supposed to be working with Kane on communications, and he was working to repair them after his last screw-up. He hated having to be here with the guy -- he didn't know anyone who even liked the guy in the forum. Kane was basically universally unpopular. "You're on duty, Kane. You watch it! I still have to fix your latest screw-up."

"Excuse me?" he said, clearly offended.

"Oh, don't you even start that crap with me," Xeno said, glaring at Kane with his piercing bestial eyes. Xeno really had enough of this guy. "I'm fixing your screw-up because you decided to spill your stupid drink all over the machinery -- that's why we have that rule of keeping them over there!' Xeno indicated a table on the far wall, far enough away from the sensitive machinery in communications. "But you clearly think that you're above following the rules, and, yet, you still want to be a RAFian!"

Kane said nothing, but he looked like an indignant child.

"You want to be a RAFian?" grumbling Xeno, still fuming with frustration. "Then you have to put in the work and the effort that comes with it! He thinks that he can just be Marked and sit on his butt and do nothing useful."

Then it lapsed into a tense silence, with Kane realizing just how much that Xeno could do to him, as he was a "flatscan human", or, in other words, a human without powers. Xeno had the advantage in that regard.

[Cloak]

Okay . . . this book will be longer than I originally outlined. I'm kinda rewriting it from this chapter on . . . and I'm releasing tomorrow's chapter early. Probably won't be posting early come this weekend.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Trials of Ambition

Cloak continued onward, noticing that he was coming upon a miles-wide river. It was a lovely scenic view, but not what he was here for. But soon he found himself on some sort of riverboat. Overly ostentatious for the young Elements Masters taste. He always preferred the simple things, appreciating the little things that those with great ambitions, not grounded in reality, not tempered by perceptiveness, nor fettered by logic or attachment. Blind ambition. Blind ambition was one of the most dangerous things for the ambitious individual and those around them.

This was a lesson that his grandfather Sage taught him, and even his mother (albeit unintentionally, he was sure) had taught him this. It was a lesson that he took to heart, especially after his humiliating bout when he bit off more than he could chew, before fully mastering all Six Elements. It was something he consciously never told anyone about. Ambition was just fine and dandy to have, he had learned, but blind ambition was not. Blind ambition often leads to some very negative scenarios, usually at the expense of the ambitious person or those around them or all of the above.

Anyway, he looked across the overly ornate deck of this overly large steamboat. The wood of it seemed to be bleached white, so it gleamed with an artificial sense of cleanliness. Nothing was ever this spotless or sparkling. Then he saw what appeared to be the proprietor of this steamboat. It was a Realm Walker, of course. A serpentine one that looked similar to an anthropomorphic coral snake. He had bands of red, yellow, and black, and wore an ostentatiously feathered cloak that was dripping with glitter -- the entire thing looked gaudy.

"Why, another recruit!" he said, with welcoming air and gregarious attitude. He had the same speech impediment that all serpentine Realm Walkers seemed to possess. Even Dagger struggled with it. But, Cloak could tell he was playing up this "friendly guy" angle. He didn't much perception to tell that.. "You can't beat what we've got here! And it'sss only two minutesss to showtime to boot!"

"I have other, more pressing things to do," Cloak said, keeping his voice even. "I'm not going to be in any show of yours."

"Oh, I think you will!" he said, jovially. "What I have planned for you makesss me ssso happy -- why, I feel like singing!"

"Please don't," Cloak said.

"Maessstro?" the snake Realm Walker said, over his shoulder and music started up.

"Five, sssix, ssseven, eight!"

Then there was brief piano intro to the song proper.

"I don't know why I ask," Cloak said. "It never works, does it?"

"Don't bother getting up, you're in my control!
No way for you to fussssss and fight!
I've taken all your powersss - ssso, lucky you!
You will be in my show tonight."

None of this was true, and Cloak knew it perfectly well. But his feline curiosity demanded that he stay and see how this would play out. It was irresistible to him, for some reason. Though, Cloak only saw this snake Realm Walker as an oddity, a novelty to be watched and scrutinized. All the pomp and circumstance amused him, though he would never admit it outright.

"You think you can defeat me -- oh, how very droll!
Well, Elementsss Massster, one thing you should know:
I am the one with powersss around here,
I am the one who runsss the show!!!"

Cloak dodged all his movements and attempts to control him. But yet Cloak allowed him to continue singing, and yet he did not just up and leave, like probably should have done on the outset. And this Realm Walker continued to sing:

"I am the master of ceremonies,
So let me set you straight:
With just a wave of my hand, I'm . . .
Master of your fate!"

Cloak scoffed at the idea. No one but he, himself, was the master of his fate. No matter whatever Destiny had written in her diaries. He would be the one to devise his fate. His fate would be what he made of it, like it should be for everyone. Prophecies, wishes, fortunetelling -- they were just crutches. Things on which one could blame their poor choices on, instead of taking responsibility and accountability of their own poor decision for themselves.

The snake continued to sing:

"With just some hocus-pocus and sleight of hand,
You are under my command!
Keep him in a crucial part!
Places, everybody -- the show's about to start!"

He kept insisting that Cloak was under his command, and, yet, he had failed to compel Cloak to do anything that he wasn't already inclined to do. Granted, Cloak was still present, but that was mostly due to his feline curiosity more than anything else.

Then an unseen backup chorus sang:

"He is the master of ceremonies,
So let him set you straight:
With just a wave of his magic wand, he's...
Master of your fate!
(Master of your fate!)
Master of your fate!
(Master of your fate!)"

Then the nameless Realm Walker sang the conclusion to the song:

"Now for the greatest grand finale,
And the reason why you're here:
Tonight, I will make the Elements Master...
Disappear . . . forever!"

"Ambitious," Cloak said, insincerely, after a beat, with crossed arms. He was clearly unimpressed, realizing that the Realm Walker before him wasn't a coral snake Realm Walker. He was a kingsnake Realm Walker, as the red bands were touching the black. "Just how do you intend to do that?"


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dq20zg1dZ_w

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
Tempered Ambitions

"I see," Cloak said, unfolding his arms, and wearing a very unsurprised look on his face. "You didn't think that far ahead. You didn't think this through. You thought about the end result rather than what was needed to get to that point. Your ambition -- your blind ambition -- got in the way of any sort of pragmatism."

The kingsnake Realm Walker continued to say nothing.

"You allowed your ambition to get the better of you," Cloak said. "You imagined the destination rather then the journey to the destination."

Silence.

"Ambition is fine and well and all," Cloak said, "but only when grounded in reality, tempered by perspective, and fettered by logic. There's nothing wrong with being a dreamer, but blind ambition often causes more harm than good. Mostly to the ambitious individual."

You know, for someone who was so talkative before, it was jarring just how silent he became.

Cloak had an inkling. "You went after the diaries, didn't you? You imagined having them, and using them for selfish means. There's a human phrase, 'with great power, comes great responsibility'. I assume you intended to misuse the information within the diaries, use them for selfish means."

"So what if I did?" he said, sounding more ominous.

"That isn't what they should be used for," Cloak said. "I personally think that they should be destroyed and people should forge their own destinies, not live bound to what some book says. That's why I seek them out."

"You want to destroy them?!"

"Yes," Cloak said. "That's my only ambition in this endeavor. I only wish to end the danger that such diaries inherently possess. No one should know their own future, because it means that they will inevitably try to change it to their advantage. That's just the nature of sentient beings, I guess."

As Cloak said, this was his only ambition in doing this. It was grounded in the reality of the danger that such diaries pose to himself and others. He had perspective and it seemed logical to him. And he knew the way to get to the diaries was by passing these trials. Granted, he didn't know what these trials would entail, but he would complete them as much as he was required. Because he had to, it was an obligation. If these diaries didn't posed such dangers to himself and everyone he cared about, then he wouldn't have bothered.

He was surprised that the kingsnake Realm Walker collapsed into white and gold energy, revealing what appeared to be a red and yellow orb evaporated way, as if it was going Beyond the Veil. Cloak didn't know what to make of this, but the steam boat saddled up to the bank on the opposite side, almost as if the kingsnake Realm Walker was powering the steamboat. Cloak didn't question it, and hopped off the steamboat, landing softly and soundlessly on the ground.

Then he found another archway of the same design as the one previously, and proceeded across the threshold.

***

Kane was a very ambitious man, but he never bothered to think of how he would get to his grand plans, his grander designs. Nor would he ever be willing to take the necessary effort, the necessary steps to achieve such things that his ambition wanted. His plans and designs were also ridiculously grandiose, and anyone he told them to could tell that they were not based in any sort of reality.

"I'll be the top dog, just you wait," he was talking to Saffa. Saffa was less than enthused by this, but she managed to stay pleasant and polite. She didn't know how, because this guy was grinding her last nerve very quickly. She, like most other RAFians, didn't really like Kane. He believed that he would be running the forum inside a week . . . though he had taken no steps to usurp the mods, and almost expected them to hand him leadership for . . . well, for no real reason in particular.

"I'll be a top member," he pretentiously asserted to Saffa, who was looking for a way to get away from this sanctimonious little prick. But it would seem that all her escape routes were either cut off or blocked, and she couldn't leave without being too obvious. "I'll have it all -- fame, glory . . . girls!"

"Get away from me!" Saffa snarled, pushing him away harshly and violently. She decided right then and there to abandon politeness and be blunt. "I wouldn't be with you if you were the last person on Earth! You repulse me, Kane! Get away from me -- because next time you pull this, you'll find your head SEPARATED from your body! Now go away!!!"

Then she stormed off, but her words didn't work on Kane. He arrogantly believed that women loved him, that he was some sort of heartthrob. He had an inflated self-image of himself.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
Trial of Decisiveness

When Cloak crossed the threshold of the archway, the river behind him vanished completely. He was stepping onto a volcanic landscape, with cooling sheets of obsidian beneath his feet, as if this was Minecraft or something. Cloak wasn't intimidated by this change of scenery -- his time as a RAFian has taught him to expect such things whenever possible. His Realm Walker physiology allowed him to adapt to the environment with the briefest moments of discomfort. Granted, it was still hotter than he would have preferred.

He proceeded forward wondering what this trial would entail, and will there be a trial-giver like that kingsnake Realm Walker? Or that construct of one, Cloak wasn't sure of the legitimacy of that kingsnake Realm Walker's existence as an actual Realm Walker. If he did actually exist, he wasn't nearly as old as Destiny was. Because the Realm Walker's style of corporeal forms had evolved over the years and -- well, it was a whole thing to get into.

"You're not getting the diaries!" a voice roared. "They're mine!!"

Cloak saw a dragon Realm Walker -- sinewy, serpentine body with comparatively tiny arms and legs, long face with hair on the snout and back of the head, two prehensile barbels on his face, two horns on the back of his head, raked backward, a tuff of hair at the tip of his tail, a ridge running down the length of his spine, and two large, chiropteran wings on his back, directly across from his arms. His form made wearing a cloak pretty useless, as he wasn't very anthropomorphic, like most Realm Walkers. Assuming that he was, indeed, a Realm Walker to begin with.

"Yours, you say?" Cloak said, calmly and reserved. It took a lot to intimidate the Elements Master.

"They're mine!!" he roared again.

Cloak was inclined to show restraint and mercy, even though this newcomer didn't seem to deserve it. It was just his nature when it came to a fight -- and he was certain that was inevitable. Cloak couldn't help but wonder if this was a real Realm Walker -- that is to say, a legitimate person with thoughts and feelings of their own or just a simple construct puppet that was put here to test him on . . . something.

"They're mine!!" he roared. "You can't have them!!"

"Why do you want them so badly?" Cloak asked, attempting to reason with him.

"They're MINE!!" he roared again. "MINE!!"

"But they are not yours," Cloak said, reasonably, "they were written by Destiny"

Cloak felt very odd saying those last five words, as if it was a profound pronouncement instead a mere statement of fact -- Destiny, the Realm Walker, legitimately wrote these diaries. And Cloak was going to do everything his power to destroy his paternal ancestor's work. It was almost blasphemous. Sacrilegious. But Cloak resolutely believed that it had to be done.

"THEY'RE MINE!!" he roared, with a scream of flame dancing around his powerful-looking jaws.

He was going to attack Cloak, and he was quite a bit larger than the Elements Master. But Cloak was not worried. a

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
You Must Be Decisive

This dragon Realm Walker blew out a blast of fire which Cloak dodge by manipulating the air around him, enhancing the height of his jump and any dodging aerobatics that he had to employ. He noticed that this seemed to enrage the dragon Realm Walker even more -- Cloak noticed that this dragon Realm Walker had no self-control, no restraint.

"Sloppy," Cloak said, having been trained in the element of Fire, despite it being his least favorite of the six. He continued to criticize his technique and form. "Very sloppy."

"I'll show you sloppy!!" he snarled.

He blew a continuous steam of fire, before cutting off as if he was screaming, and Cloak took that and redirected it right back at him. That was the technique that Cloak tended to use fairly often, redirecting attacks back onto his attackers. It was an inclination that hadn't backfired on him yet. It didn't always work, granted. It hit its mark, pushing the dragon Real Walker backward.

"Yes," Cloak said. "You did."

"I'm not sloppy!!" he roared. "YOU'RE sloppy!!"

He blasted Cloak again, but Cloak created a scarlet and gold energy shield and it easily withstood the fire. Once the attack was done, the dragon roared his frustration.

"I don't have time for this . . . distraction," Cloak said, decisively. "Let me pass, or you shall regret it."

But the dragon Realm Walker moved to attack, but Cloak wasn't about to have any of it. He preempted this attack decisively with his own, and he did again, and again until he could get to the other side of the dragon. But Cloak didn't kill him. He had no interest in killing him . . . and his life wasn't in any jeopardy, so there wasn't any need for something that severe.

Cloak walked through an archway that seemed to have spontaneously manifest in front of him. He crossed the threshold.

***

Kane may have boasted about making the best decisions, he tended to wait and let things happened to him. Wait and let the fame and glory and girls come to him. He couldn't be bothered to work for it, however. This wasn't like the initial laziness that Rotiart had once demonstrated, this was just the lazy indecisiveness that someone accustomed having things handed to him and having all his big decisions made for him by his wealthy parents -- before they cut him off. Kane thought that their decision was incredibly unfair, despite the fact that he wasn't doing anything worthwhile with his small allowances that he was blow through with astonishing swiftness. Eventually, they got tired of it, and it led to a big blow up between them.

Now he hated them both. He hated them both because he never marked by promptness or decision, and, despite his great blind ambition, he couldn't be bother to decisively follow through the steps necessary to achieve such ambitions. He expected it to be handed to him, expected that he didn't have to invest any time or effort or any sort of investment whatsoever, just that his ambitions would magically come true. And he becomes upset any time anyone calls him out on it, and he would grouse upon it frustratingly annoying levels.

Of course, he didn't do this around Faeire, because she threatened to cut off his . . . something that he held with very much importance to him . . . if he did not shut up and go away. Granted, he used this to play the victim, and this was also real annoying. And yet, he hadn't been Banned yet.