Power
(excerpt from “The Will of The Way”,
an unpublished manuscript by Lona Troy)
Like any good faith, The Way is built around a messiah figure; some pious soul so beset by God that he alone represents the entire body of faith. But The Way isn't about piety, it's about power. The Way praises the strong and condemns the weak; its followers wouldn’t bloody their knuckles for a shaman or a philosopher. The Way’s messiah is a warrior, supposedly the greatest warrior that ever lived. His name was Mei Une.
According to the Lore, Mei Une was a Tru and the Tru were created to defend the world from evil. Their battlefield was the ancient Earth, back before the dinosaurs, when demons and dragons and deities still argued over who was in charge. Mei Une was the biggest and baddest of his kind, and he is believed to be unbeatable.
Maximillian
“Kkrreeaauuggh!” The Great Dragon Lord, Bahamut, bellowed angrily from his mountain perch. In the grass far below, Mei Une stared up at his prey. Suddenly his great legs condensed, their muscles tightened to iron, and then exploded him up into the air. He soared past the rocks and the clouds and up into the heavens where the dragon’s hid with his fists hungry for battle. Maximillian Hunter never leaves his torch-lit cavern though, their flickering amber light dances off the violet stones that line the room around him. They take his thoughts through time and possibility, back to when Mei Une fought the obsidian beast.
“The Ancient’s Fist!” He shouts a kiai warcry at his enemy. The words mean nothing, but they bring a smile to Maximillian’s face as he readies his body for Mei Une’s legendary punch.
“Krrreeeaaauuuggghhh!” Bahamut shouted back, even more furious at his sudden approach. His black skeletal wings flared behind him in a rainbow of horror, and his nostrils filled with the devil’s flame. Mei Une only smirked and limbered his fingers in anticipation, he liked it when they could see it coming.
kaboom
His fist exploded like a thousand dying suns across Bahamut’s impervious jaw. The scales of his unbreakable hide trembled while the bones underneath shattered. That day, Mei Une slaughtered The Executioner of Dragon’s Isle with a single punch… but in Maximillian’s cavern, the Father’s ancient stones and Weinfeld’s technology give life to a different mythology. In the cavern Maximillian’s victory is not as certain as Mei Une’s.
“Were it so easy...“ Maximillian Hunter smirks Mei Une's old smirk as The Dread Wyvern begins to stir again. Weinfeld’s technology mimics the legends of Bahamut, but Mei Une and the Dragon were friends before their fatal duel. The real Bahamut was enormous and loud… and eager to die.
“Zzkkreeaauugh!” Bahamut shrieked from the cavern’s shadow and charged at Maximillian, covered in red hot flaming anger. Maximillian dodged with ease but his designer keikogi, flimsy like all modern clothing, is too weak for the ancient power of fire. The billowed white fabric bound to his torso burned away as he reached into the blazing fire. “Zzkkrreeaauuggh?!”
“A new weakness?” Maximillian muses aloud, seizing his flailing metal opponent from behind. The real Bahamut chewed off his tail to be free of it’s liability. Weinfeld must have thought The Soaring Nightmare would be more ferocious with an anchor.
wh-thummm
The Black Scourge of Dragon Mountain, Bahamut, is defeated again... as he is everytime Maximillian Hunter needs a good workout. This time Bahamut was slung down by his tail, hard enough to shatter him against the glowing purple stones that bring Mei Une’s memories to life.
“Goodbye, my friend.” Maximillian withdraws his hand from the writhing cyber-beast. It's broken jaw hangs loose from the killer punch, sparking out the rage of its dying batteries. Maximillian knows Bahamut did not die with such embarrassment, this is only a facade of the warrior Mei Une put to death.
khrruuum
With a stomp that shook all 50 floors of Hunter Tower, Maximillian Hunter crushed his heel through the robot dragon and into the floor. It’s pointless technical agony stills unsatisfyingly.
“Mr. Hunter.” Glowing violet stones in the cavern walls shift and the panels they've been mounted on fold into an opening. A modest office hallway emerges beside the cavern while air conditioning and fluorescent lighting seep in, poisoning its grip on reality. Owen Jarenski, Maximillian's Chief Executive Assistant in Charge of Special Projects, stands in the sudden doorway clad in his customary tailored black suit with white linens and silver highlights. Owen adjusts his glasses idly, but is comfortably reserved to wait an eternity for Maximillian’s response... if necessary. Maximillian pulls his feet from the mess of metal and wires, then turns to face his loyal attendant.
“Zzzzkkkkrrrraaaauuuugggh!!” Weinfeld’s Bahamut senses its opponent's distraction and reactivates with a sudden piercing shriek. The gap bursted in its chest opens further to reveal rows of jagged sparking metal, spinning and circling like a grinder. Wire coils fire out from the deadly new maw and grasp Maximillian by the wrists and ankles, trying to draw him in. Maximillian doesn’t struggle, he doesn’t even flinch.
The old violet stones glow brightly all around the room, bathing it in a sudden murky light. The shaven stubs of curled black hair on Maximillian's scalp lengthen and swell, stretching and blending together until they reach the ground, all twisted up in great black dreadlocks. Mei Une's living mane is reborn, writhing all over itself from behind Maximillian’s head.
At the snarl of his teeth, they snatch up Weinfeld’s malfunctioning mess and hoist it from the ground. Manmade science struggles to compensate for Tru power, but technology is no match for the living weapon forged by a thousand years of combat. With a clench of his fist, Maximillian orders the coal black strands to tighten and constrict.
crrrrsshhh
Bahamut is destroyed yet again, this time torn apart in a web of black mane. Mei Une’s hair sizzles as electric blood weaves through it and down to the floor.
“What is it, Owen?” Maximillian runs a hand over his professionally faded hair as shattered Bahamut rains down around him.
“Igor says the Haddad account is closed.” Owen makes no note of the carnage, only taking a step back to brush his silver vest clear of loose hair and debris. “He is on a flight now from the United States, he should be home by nightfall.”
“At last...” For just a moment, Maximillian's dark mahogany pupils glow the same violet hue as the stones in his cavern. “...only one cursed dog remains.”
“I have scheduled a performance evaluation for the support contractor this afternoon. I will attend to it personally, ”
“Thank you, Owen. What about the woman?” Maximillian’s eye soften and recolor as he speaks. Owen pays no mind, already thumbing at the glowing screen of his cell phone.
“EgyptAir flight 1138 just checked in to Khun airspace. Security confirms a woman matching your description is onboard.”
“Then would you kindly bring her here to me?”
More original names would be cool too. Bahamut is instantly recognizable. I like Mei Une.
