(Neutral Space - Tepes)
'You have no chance of winning, Mike.'
The two men were heavily wounded, and blood seeped from various gashes on their bodies. The landscape around them had transformed into an unrecognizable battleground – a convergence of supernatural forces and psychic energies.
Yet, the tide seemed to favour the man in the badly singed, classic 90's dark suit. His youthful face remained unyielding, despite the chaos. His opponent, however, bore the marks of experience. Muscular and mature, he clung to life, his white robe tattered. In his hand, a bronze hexagonal staff was badly chipped, no doubt the result of countless battles, its pinnacle adorned with a radiant ruby pulsing with psychic energy.
The man with the staff dropped to one knee, spitting out a torrent of blood. 'Give me the grail,' the man in black demanded, 'and I can promise you a quick and painless death.'
'You fool,' Mike retorted, his voice strained. 'Have you learned nothing?'
'Then you can die.'
From nowhere, a black, skeletal creature materialized. Measuring eight feet tall, its talons and claws were unnaturally sharp, its teeth razor-edged. Its beady red eyes glowed like smoldering coals. Definitely not human. The monstrosity slouched forward, knuckles scraping the earth, claws digging deep into the earth.
With blinding speed, the monster lunged at the fallen man, arms set to finish what remained of his adversary.
Reacting swiftly, Mike summoned his last reserves of strength. Flames erupted from the staff, propelling the beast several meters away. Another meteor-sized crater formed, flames dancing in a towering inferno.
'Hmm,' the man in black mused, gazing at the fiery tornado, 'I didn't think you still had that much Miasma left.'
'Trust me,' Mike gasped, 'You're not too far from the truth.'
'But surely,' the man in black began, undeterred by the unaccomplished task of the man-eater, 'You don't think that's enough to defeat my man-eater, right?'
'No,' Mike replied, 'I was just buying time.'
'What?' The man in black questioned, his voice rising in panic.
'You ruptured my insides and crushed my left arm," Mike chuckled. "My chances of winning this fight were already compromised. So, neither of us will.'
Reaching inside his robe, Mike drew a short blade and slit his left palm across the width. Blood spewed out, and with the aid of his right arm, he placed his palm firmly on the earth. 'While you were busy sweet-talking me into giving you the grail, I was preparing.'
'Preparing for what exactly? Answer ME!!' his adversary boomed.
'Calm down. Damn, you're usually so cool-headed. I simply prepared for the next generation. Grey, you're never going to get the grail, never,' Mike said with finality.
'I've had enough of you. No need to keep you alive any longer.'
Then, the white-cloaked man yelled, 'Spirit technique; Number 10: SEAL!'
For a while, nothing happened. Then the ground began to shake, and thick dark clouds formed overhead. Lightning flashed, and a powerful gale hit both men. The wind seemed to circulate around Mike.
Grey summoned another dark, shadowy creature with deadly elongated claws and fangs and nudged it forward with pure murderous intention. The wind didn't intimidate the monster as it approached Mike. His head dropped, sensing death looming. The man-eater bore down on the defeated Mike, waiting for the order to kill. Mike said, 'So you've finally made up your mind to kill me.'
'This is your last chance, Mike. Give me the grail and die an honourable death,' Grey said.
'I'll see you in hell, bas –'
Before Mike could finish the man-eater raised an arm and swung, instantly beheading Mike. Blood gushed out in a gory spray and the body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The man-eater turned, then vanished, leaving the horrid stench of death and sour earth. Grey stuffed his hands in his pockets. A tiny metallic device beeped from inside his trouser pocket—a wireless intercom no larger than a thumbnail. Fastening it on his ear, he said, "Speak."
'How'd it go?' a grainy voice called.
'Mike's dead. The grail was sealed away.'
'That's bad, right?'
'No. He sealed it into someone else. Most likely a person who isn't a Shade.'
'That would be dumb. You sure 'bout that?'
'Just a hunch. He was onto Joker. If I hadn't gone sooner, Joker would have been discovered. But I doubt Mike would transfer it to a Shade. Joker would smoke him out for us, and then there would be no point in his sacrifice.'
'So, you're trying to say that Mike sent the most powerful miasma relic capable of making human Nitrogen bombs look like LED toy lamps; you're telling me that Mike sent it into a human?'
'Not a human exactly. More like some unknown factor we have probably not considered or even known.'
'So it's safe to say that this was a failure.'
'No, this is just part of the adaptation phase. To me it's just a game to keep me busy. "No need to rush", I tell myself. After all, there's no need to rush the inevitable. Slow and steady wins the race.'
'Nobody says that anymore. Well, suit yourself. I'm gonna get myself an espresso. Later.'
With that the person on the other end cut and Grey was left alone in the neutral space with a devastated landscape and a beheaded corpse.
'Damn, I need a smoke,' Grey said while sighing through his nose. Taking one last look at Mike, he stretched out his palm, conjuring a sphere of dark energy.
'So begins the end. No one will be able to stop me—not then, not now, not ever.'
And then the air around Grey bent, and the space rippled and vanished. The earth and its inhabitants remained unaware that the fate of the world depended on our hero—the one who would soon become the sage.