“Basilisk to Proteus. I've found John's location.” Proteus hears through the machine in his brain.

  His eyes opened, seeing the smooth roof of his office. His legs kicked up on the desk. His hands behind his head. He didn't realize he was so comfortable, but it is a nice change from… well.

  Somehow, it's a nice change.

  He gets his boots off the desk and stands up with giddy malice.

  “Oh… Proteus to Basilisk… Excellent work. Can you feed me his location? Also ge— actually no, don't get Cerberus. Just the location please.”

  “Very well.” Basilisk hisses, a cough soon following as her voice drops out the air.

  Proteus turned around to see the view outside, the Neosun large as it hovered upon the horizon. It's alluring light basking across the city, bathing the landscape in the glow of progress and focus groups.

  A notification dinged on his monitor, commanding his attention. He looks, his eyes taking in the location, which told him that John was located on top of Mount Viscera. Interesting… the Station-Wagon wasn't going to do it this time. He needed to be there yesterday. He rushes down the oddly empty floors of the Ivory Tower until he reaches the garage basement. And what does he find… of course. Nothing other than miniaturized hyper sonic jet!

  He didn't even know one of those was down here. It felt like dream logic, but yet again, he didn't question it.

  John must be brought in, and if not, slayen.

  He throws himself inside the cockpit which fits like a glove. The engine whirs on with its high pitch scream, echoing throughout the marble garage as it should. He taxis the fighter craft out onto the pavement just outside. The rain and lighting cheer him on as he navigates to an empty highway to take flight.

  “WARNING: WEATHER CONDITIONS CURRENTLY PROHIBIT THE FLIGHT OF AIRCRAFT ACROSS THIS AIRSPACE. TAXI AND DOCK IMMEDIATELY!” The awakening of the heads up display warns.

  Proteus laughs it off. It's been too long since he flew a jet like this. And besides, he'd never done it in weather this terrible. It’ll be an experience to remember. A flight for the ages as it rockets forward.

  It slices through the air like the thin blade of a katana, the exhilaration getting to him like a child. He swears it has been so long since he genuinely felt something. Or at least, something genuine such as this.

  The jet accelerates unreasonably quickly, the turbulence nothing in his wake. He didn't check where Mount Viscera was from this direction. His heart guides him towards this battle.

  As he enters the clouds, the Neosun is gone. After a few minutes of flying, his heart tells him it is near. He must be above Mount Viscera.

  His sight remain within the dark cloud cover, though he sees the fragments on ice from the mountaintops below. He rips the joystick backwards to bring his craft to a stall. And then, he starts descending rapidly.

  The nose of the plane beams towards the ground which approaches at massive speed. He adjusts his hat on tight and makes sure his suit is buttoned up. He rips on the ejection level, always wanting to see what it was like.

  He catapults out of the cockpit into the open air. The temperature was freezing, though he invited the challenge.

  His eyes located the landing zone as he yanks on the parachute. It cuts his velocity by orders of magnitude, and allows him to glide to the battleground.

  An area of flat land no bigger than the houses of old, nestled between dooming cliffs which lead below, and spireing cliffs which will watch in spectation.

  He prepared to land as his legs extends out, absorbing the impact nicely as the winds take his parachute away. He dropped the bag, and the bag went with it. He adjust his hat again. He looks up, with his eyes landing up on that bastard John.

  Just as he does, the dead rattle of his jet explodes in the background; crashing into a nearby cliff, echoing throughout the mountains. The snow falls softly even as the winds blow rampant. The two men locked eye contact. John in his work overalls. Proteus in his decadent suit.

  The man known for the gold eyes begins circling John from afar.

  “Quite a sight you chose for this battle, isn't it?” He taunts with the casual demeanor that allows John to escape him in the beginning.

  John replies, beginning circles of his own.

  “Of course not, Proteus. These sites are of your choosing. And what happened to your golden eyes?”

  Proteus stopped up on hearing the question, as did John.

  Proteus looks away from him; he who stood before that of the towering rock. He turns away briefly, behind himself; into the cascading mountainscape below. The endless pine trees of the wide valley mixed with the snow capped peaks of the mountain tops. The dark gray rocks of the cliff side and the whirring winds of the night sky.

  It was… magnanimous. But odd too.

  The Neosun seems to have set by now. The lightning stays quiet for now so they may speak. And so Proteus turns back to face John.

  A smile is on his face. A sense of deja vu mixing with his power.

  “Little words from a little man. I don't care for your observations, Johnny boy.”

  John gazed at Proteus with squinted eyes and a look of amusement. He slowly raised his arms in the air as Proteus approached.

  “Have you nothing to say, John? Are you not even armed? Or are you trying to hand yourself in?”

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  Proteus stopped a couple meters from him, the snow making a crunch with every step. “Of course not Proteus! I have come to fight!” John tells him, raising his fists. Proteus pulls out his pistol and aims it between the eyes of John. John taunts Proteus, hearkening back to their first battle.

  “Oh, you are going to fight me with weapons while I am unarmed? What time of man are you Proteus? A coward?”

  “I've learned from my mistake.” Proteus warns with a finger on the trigger. “You can come with me or die here in the snow.”

  John laughs maniacally at Proteus's attempted dominance.

  He looks unfazed. Completely so. “Oh… oh, fuck, Proteus. That's real funny. That isn't what you did last time you were here.”

  “Enough games.” Proteus asserts with finality. “Come with me or face God!”

  John smiles, looks away and shakes his head.

  He folds his arms. He looks to Proteus again.

  “Oh man. When are you gonna get it bro? Look around you.”

  Proteus didn't mean to, but his eyes drifted away for a second. They caught something. He saw a mirror embedded in the slow, and a person who looked back at him. It was himself. Without his golden eyes.

  He dropped his guard and got closer, the man in the reflection mimicking his movements. The reflection looked like him. Moved like him. But his eyes haven't been that color in a very, very, very long time.

  His sight drifts back to John, who look back at Proteus with eyes that are not his own. Golden ones. Beautiful ones. Synthetic ones.

  “Proteus, you're missing something.” John says quietly.

  Proteus doesn't humor whatever this is and shoots John in the skull. Dead. Multiple times. Each trigger pull brought a small sharp pain into his mind. But that didn't stop Proteus from reloading the laser glock and shooting again. And again. And again, until that small pain grew annoying.

  John lay there dead, the snowfall kissing his dying skin. His blood painting the ground below red.

  Proteus lowered his pistol. He looked upon the dead John, panting. Why is he out of breath? He wasn't just a few seconds ago.

  “Basilisk to Proteus. I've located John.”

  The snake tells him through his implant.

  “Yeah, so have I, he's dead and right in front of me.”

  Proteus is quick to inform her.

  “No, behind you.” John says as he smashes the back of Proteus's head in with a hard object. Proteus flopped forward into the snow.

  Mind is throbbing.

  He looks up, around himself. The world is faintly growing orange.

  He gets up, his surroundings turning into a wild mess.

  He shoots John dead again, without fanfare.

  He approaches the body to make sure it is dead this time. As he leans down to check for a pulse, the corpse whispers into his ear.

  “You're changing Proteus. You cannot escape.”

  Before Proteus can do anything, a massive presence grabs him from behind and throws him across the snow, close to the rocks.

  Proteus's vision grew blurry.

  The winds started blowing like a tempest.

  It was that bastard Cerberus, he… he must've changed sides! And he has stolen his golden eyes!

  “Traitor!” Proteus yells as he slowly stands.

  Cerberus marches towards the man with unstoppable speed.

  “You have only betrayed yourself.”

  Proteus unloads laser fire into the giant. Every shot against his metal skull. It must've been thirty shots, and the menace was still walking.

  Proteus runs out of ammo. The pain grows louder, his mind more desperate. He throws the pistol at Cerberus— it does nothing.

  He unsheathes a karambit and throws. Still nothing. Finally, with his last one, he throws it directly into Cerberus's eyes. The giant finally stops and, as he collapses, the whole mountain range shakes.

  The thunder returns as Proteus' mind grows restless. He refuses to accept the messages of his surroundings. He walks over Cerberus whose body is colder than ice. He inspects the cliff side as he hears a voice calling from below.

  “Wake up.” The voice is shouting. “Wake up!” It cries again.

  The voice is enchanting as he gets ever closer. But then the shadow behind him started moving. His trance is broken as he looks behind.

  The spireing rocks of the peaks of the mountain twisted, turned; moved like shadows in a cloud. His eyes could not believe what he was seeing. But the ever-growing pain of his mind makes him believe. As if rods were being shoved into his ears.

  “Wake up! Wake up!” The cliff edge cried more.

  Proteus saw as the mountains converged. The sky, like flesh where electricity is the veins. The winds all converged where the mountains did, forming an ungodly vortex around the being that emerged.

  He fell to his knees. All was numb except his mind. And Gauth Van Hulsieg, higher than the Himalayas, looked down upon Proteus with disgust. He spoke with the voice of total condemnation.

  “You are a victim, Proteus. A victim of your design.”

  “My— m— My lord?” Proteus uttered. But it was too late. The will of his master blew his weakening body off the cliff side. As he fell, his eyes closed. And yet his ears remained open.

  “Wake up! Wake up!” Proteus hear yelled in his ears.

  He opens his eyes, barely able to make Kaitlyn out through his deteriorating vision.

  “WAKE UP!” She screams in his face.

  “AAAAAAAAAA!!!” Proteus shouts, falling forward off his chair and hitting his head on the desk. He grasps at anything he can, his body on fire. His lungs full of phlegm. His body in shock. His mind failing.

  “GIVE ME— GIVE ME THE MEDS!” He yells about as ungracefully as is possible. He sounded more like Halcyon used to than he does himself.

  Kaitlyn backs away from the frenzied man, unsure of what to do.

  Proteus rips himself off the floor and shoves the rest of the pill bottle in his mouth. He coughs half of it up. He isn't even sure if it's the right one, it just looked like it was. Anything is better than this state.

  Kaitlyn watched over him in despair as his body seized up and began spasming on the floor.

  Slowly, Proteus's vision grew dimmer. And dimmer. Until his eyes closed. The outside world faded away. Half of the memory of what just happen with it.

  Finally, his mind was at peace. He didn't know where he was. He was sure he could open his eyes, but he didn't want to know where he was either.

  All was silent. All was black. And he was alive.

  At this point, what more could he possibly ask for?

  But then, a voice called to him from the darkness.

  He still refused to look at it or dare opening his eyes now.

  “Proteus…” The voice called. It sounded familiar.

  “SERaMACs?” Proteus asked.

  “SERaMACs…” SERaMACs replied.