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The Resolutions of 132/4 - The Pride

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Precisely Eight Days Later, Stooben's Point of View.

I was ecstatic.

Tabuu had blacked out into a coma-like state for nearly a week after he grabbed Golden Fang.

He had just awoken.

And he remembered.

Everything.


Chapter Four


The Pride





Twenty Years Ago.

I was just 12 years old, but I already acted older than I really was.

My parents and I lived in the Grand City of Wikipedia. We were distantly related to The Steward, Jimmy Wales, and we were one of the families that remained in relative political importance. I was already in High School, much to the chagrin of my neighborhood friends, who remained in the age-appropriate grade, or had already began to stay back. I was taking a walk around the block to cool off from my father's newest drunken outburst.

Fucking asshole.

I loved him, though. He was my father, after all. The sun was beginning to set, and before I knew it, I was walking under the moonlight. That's when I met him.

He was younger than me. Eight years old, as I would find out later. And he looked like he had been to hell and back. He was in bare feet, dredging along the sidewalk. His brown eyes had a deadened look in them, as if the child wanted to cry, but had already ran out of tears. His pants were dirty and torn, and his shirt was soaked in mud. His black hair was dirty. and went off in every direction.

"Are you okay?" I asked, walking towards him. He jumped at the sound of my voice, and then, upon seeing me, turned and ran as fast as he could in the other direction.

"Hey," I shouted, "I'm not gonna hurt you! Are you alright!?" I began pursuit, and just when I was about to catch up to him, he tripped over a brick on the sidewalk, and fell, face-first, into the cement. The child finally began to cry, clutching at his face and twisting on the ground.

"Don't..." he sobbed as I came closer to him.

"Don't hurt me...please..." he continued.

I kneeled down to his level, and raised up my hand.

He flinched.

I set it down on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I asked in the most soothing voice possible.

He went silent, but shook his head.

"Where's your family? Your mommy, or your daddy?"

He shook his head, and tears went up in his eyes.

"They're dead."

His voice was harsh.

"What happened?"

"A car accident. I was taken in by the orphanage, but some bullies took my shoes and chased me away. I don't know where I am, I've been out here for days...and I'm so hungry..."

I frowned, and pulled him to his feet. I kneeled down, my back turned to him.

"Wrap your arms around my neck. I'll give you a piggyback ride."

He seemed cautious at first but nodded, and got onto me.

I stood up, taking a moment to adjust to his weight.

"Where are you taking me?" the eight year old asked.

"Home."




That was when I first met Christopher. My family took him in, and I helped educate him. I eventually dropped out of college to see to his education. Dad was furious, but at this point, I didn't care. He was my little brother, now, and he was more important than some degree I could get with minimal effort. Mom eventually passed away, and then life became downright hellish for the two of us. Once I turned twenty and Christopher had become sixteen, we'd both had enough, and using the inheritance our mother had left for us, we left our drunken father, and tried to start anew.

But the problem was, we'd never really found a place to settle down, so we just moved from city to city, country to country, wiki to wiki.

And then one day, everything changed. We were living in Referata, then, by the coastline. Chris had become best friends with a young adult the same age as he, by the name of Nalia Cynd. Nalia was an orphan, as well, but was taken care of by his godfather, Esqueleto Ramirez. Ramirez was an old, wise man. He was most notable for a scythe he always carried, as well as his decision to wear black robes. Freaky fashion, mild mind. Christopher came across a golden scythe when he and Nalia had went exploring in the caverns by the beach.

The Golden Fang.

Golden Fang was a conscious entity, a great spirit sealed into a scythe by the Mastermind Troll thousands of years ago, as was many other similar weapons, including the one that Ramirez owned, and the one that Nalia would eventually come across.

Ramirez was murdered by The Mastermind after we'd lived there for a few years. He had been cast into a volcano.

But he didn't die that easy.

His scythe fused with him in desperation, weapon and body, mind and soul.

When he returned, he was a mere skeleton. But he lived. He could speak, hear, and see.

That's when we all decided to form the Reaper Council. Ramirez, or, as he had been nicknamed, "Skell", was the leader of the group for a while, until a woman by the name of Junemarie Blusk, with the most powerful of the Twenty, Miero, joined and took his place. We eventually formed an underground organization devoted to the elimination of Mastermind, and, once my father died, I took his place in the Government and forged connections.

It was thanks to me that the Reaper Council was allowed in any place at any time, had access to information that some Stewards wouldn't even be able to see, and that we were all entitled to certain protections.

But then, three years ago, Christopher became disoriented from the Council, and went, alone, to take on Evoltsul, the Mastermind Troll.

He managed to seal away Evoltsul and his powers for some time, but was killed.

But Nalia had confirmed it. My little brother was back, after all of this time. Reawakened in the body of one of Evoltsul's experiments.

I was pulled out my thoughts by the appearance of an unfamiliar man in front of me.

He was tall and broad, dual wielding two rapiers, and wearing a white-and-red robed outfit. His hair was brown, his eyes were green, and he had a demonic smirk, exuding self-confidence. He brandished his weapons at me.

"Who are you?" I asked, reaching for my guitar, and then strumming it, blue flames sprouting all around the instrument.

"Heh...so glad to see we're on the same page."

I stepped forward threateningly.

"Answer me."

His eyes glinted, and he licked his lips as he responded.

"I am a man commonly known as..." he held out one of his swords towards me, "Pride."