The story so far:
The wordless fight by dr3arms
The Hyperwolf continued to walk towards the Fusion, not bothering to deflect the white hot needles that flew through the air, sometimes puncturing his stomach, chest, arms, legs and neck. He continued walking through the pain, that burning tenseness that let him know that his muscles were slowly becoming cooked steak, the Fusion condensed yet again to the true victor of the highlander event and the Hyperwolfs eyes widened in both knowing shock and full contempt. The Golden Strands face, though mixed with elements of the other Original Strands, let a single tear fall from his left eye as his body defied him and continued shooting needles at his target.
The infant and her Guardian somply watched in stunned silence as the two fought like starving dogs over a dried bleached bone. The blows came left and right through punches and kicks, headbuts, Judo moves, and finally a single groin kick that had little to no effect on the Golden Strands mind. There was a stillness that echoed through out the mostly blank plane as bleachers slowly grew from the floor, and still after that, forms of the people that both combatants had come across. They were nothing but blank slates for the remaining versions that survived the merging, as a blue, grey, and cotton candy pink dye sloshed over everything, slicking the ground. somehow this did nothing to deter the two as they brutally and viscious continued to parry, block, and return the othersattacks back at them.
The Core looked at into the Strands, and saw through the centillions of forms that the infants mothers face, though frozen like a statue, had a look of disconcerting joy on her face. As if every single version of her knew what was transpiring in front of their unseeing eyes. The Hyperwolf landed a glancing blow on the Fusions neck, blowing out a chunk of it that was quickly replaced by a patch of diamond crystal. The Fusion formed a pair of spires and slammed them into his opponents knees, thrusting them deeper in the bones that were just behind them, dropping his target to the floor, never letting up for a second.
The Hyperwolf in turn, used the half a seconds delay, swinging a retractable blade hard in a diagonal fashion, catching the Fusion full force. the blade stopped halfway, leaving a gash in its face as the mouth split open and absorbed the weapon into its body, growing hundreds of thousands of porcupine like needles in a spiraling fashion as it laughed. The Hyperwolf winced as his attacker began spinning horrendously fast, a buzzing, whining sound ripping through the air as winds of a unseen nature threated to rip up the solidly created plane. the Core only smiled, while the infant and her unseeing mother continued to watch the match with a simple curious drive.
The Fusion slammed full force into the Hyperwolfs body, only to be stopped by a single well placed finger half a inch into its forehead. The Hyperwolf, too tired to continue at the furious pace they had been fighting, allowed a opening in his defence, one that the Fusion gladly took pleasure in exploiting by forming seventeen sledge hammers and launching him into the air in a combo like fashion. Through the pain, and the bouts of blanking out from the pain, he deactivated the Hyperwolf form, now only in his slightly slower, but more powerful Lost Wolf mode, stopped mid uncontrolled flight, flipped, and let the last blow come near him, taking advantage of the momentum and flinging the Fusion hard into the ground like a spinning top.
The Fusion, in a simple choice, let the sledge hammers fling off beyond the boundries of the ten square mile white plane, to float just about the veritable infinite sea of stone face statueswhich could only sense, only have flitting images of the battle that was taking place. A brutal, vicious one, a fight between two enemies at the full brink of eaches power, forced to fight each other in a cruel and unusual test of endurance.
Finally, after what seemed like after ten thousand years. The fighting had stopped. But not by their own voilition, nor by the choice of the Core. the infant had, with Bob Jones power, stopped time. There was no true way of freezing time, nor of accuretally telling of just how much time actually had passed. The moment was frozen, slowed down till it seemed like a slow crawl. The Fusion, face twisted into a raging roar, in mid lunge with a spike being twisted together from the Fusions own muscle fibers.
The Lost Wolf on the other hand, facing away with his back turned, a look of concentration on his face as he brought his hands together while recovering from a slashing kick that created a burnt scar from the top right of his forehead, crossing down the bridge of his nose, and through several cell layers of skin and muscle of his left cheek. Bob Jones made his presence known to the infant nonverbally, a tiny midnight black reapers cloak covered her and faded from view.
In a split nanosecond time slowly resumed. The Fusions spike completing as its face turned from rage to glee while bring its arm down full force towards the back opf the Lost Wolfs neck while twisting its body in a strange and wild loop.
The Lost Wolf, slowly blinking his eyes, turned around with a upward sweep of his leg, taking full advantage of the Fusion's already considerable momentum and guiding the missing blow into the ground, bending the fusions arm at an awkward angle, and with his fist crushed a few of the joints in its fingers, wrist, and elbow.
The lost wolf smiled with the knowledge that the fight might finally be over.
Bob Jones had the unfortunate choice of either letting the Fusions secondary close range shotgun like attack take off sixty two percent of his chest, or its third attack in the form of a straight forward spike through the chest, neck, and top of the back of his head from right underneath him. The Reaper questioned the reason for the descision between these three untimely choices. He question the value of the Reapers that stood gard constantly outside the barrier of the dimension between dimensions. Silently, he simply faded away, his choice made.
The three attacks happened simultaneously, though with no time to react on logic and only instinct, the Lost Wolfs form simply lept to the side, swinging as hard as he possibly could in triple slashed cross kick.
The first ripping off the Fusions left arm at the center of the bicept.
The second splitting open its rib cage, causing it to explode with terrifying trauma to the Fusions surprise.
The third blow ripping through the right arm at the shoulder, and tearing through the right leg at the knee.
Time resumed as the Fusion flopped onto the ground, skidding towards the throne while the Lost Wolf shot forward, mentally preparing his next attack while the high collared white cloak with the black and grey rainbows faded onto his form again.
His silent words were only heard in his mind as his arms moved faster than light, creating the illusion of slip streamed arms growing in and out of sight, the fusion gasped for air as Diamond mixed with Stellar energies grew his limbs back into place, it almost succeeded, were it not for the fact the Lost Wolf had jabbed his, now razor sharp, finger tips into various pressure points on the Fusions body, creating untold amounts of tension in those muscle groups. The Fusion screamed in pain as it once again fell to the ground, its newly grown limbs shattered at the joints with the Lost Wolf crouching over him like a demented animal.
His eyes met with the Fusions, and an understanding was had.
That understanding that no matter how bad things got for anyone, if push came to shove, the Lost Wolves, no matter who they were, would strive their hardest to succeed.
This understanding, though only a split second, was broken with the Fusion slamming fourty blades formed from its ribs into the Lost Wolfs vitals without any resistance. The ribs slashed through cloth, skin, muscle, bone, blood vessel, and organ with sickening ease. The look of shock on the victims face as his eyes widened with a hint, that he might've wanted this ending to begin, streaked across his face. The decomposed facial muscles returning as, with the last bit of energy, roared his next moved, spattered bright green with grey splotches of blood over the Fusions sickeningly happy face.
Energy began to gather at the tips of the Fusions ribs where they had stopped their unwanted intrusion, and forced their way into the core of the ribs themselves, traveling into the sternum, then from there, slamming into the vertibrae where the ribs connected, traveled the length of the spinal column into the base of the Fusions skull, and filled the skull cavities with enough energy to cause a black hole to explode into a violent supernova.
The Fusions arms reached upwards for just a second, its fingers desperately grabbing at the air in a vain attempt to grasp for anything at all, and then fell to the ground with a simple thud. The Lost Wolf got up slowly, his wounds pouring the wierdly colored liquid from an unknown source.
The Core, along with the Lost Wolfs infant, looked at the victor of the hard fought battle with approval. There wasn't any need to to break the silence for those few precious seconds that, it seemed to Morgan as the Lost Wolf mode deactivated, everything seemed in its place.
Unfortunately, the Core simply pointed with one of its many arms behind the tired, weakened and half dead human. Slowly, painfully he turned around, a sense of dread on his face, a dreadful wishing of just a few days away from the insane madness that had engulfed his life for the past eight years.
This wish was denied.
Behind him, one of the infinite grey statues had stood up, its blank features being chipped into a person he knew quite well, until color filled in the grey spectre with unusual speed.
Blakes blue eyes opened coldly as his fingertips stretched outwards. Morgan blinked unbelievingly at this turn of events, wondering where he could actually muster the strength to over come this obsticle. His longtime friends mouth spoke words that remained silent to all but who they were meant for. Weakly, Morgan once again activated the Lost Wolf mode with a pained smile on his face. Blake charged at him with an unknown speed, in his mind, the only thing that mattered was making Morgan pay for what he had unleashed onto the planet those many years ago, a sense of satisfaction coming to him with each of the hundred blows landed on his opponents face, neck and torso. A sense of overpowering greatness filling his heart with every bone that snapped under the pressure of the hits he landed.
But that sense of awe, wonder, and glee slowly faded with the realization that the man he wanted to pay dearly for the tradgedies that had befallen the Human race were quietly and quickly snuffed out. More silent words as the Lost Wolf became disoriented and fell to the ground. The Core would not be denied his sick satisfaction of beating into the ground, the one being that may have had any margin of success, revived more and more of the statues, and like a puppet master, commanded them all to attack the fallen Lost Wolf.
Hundreds of different attacks came from all angles.
Everything and anything at all the people revived from the statues had at their disposal was launched all at once at the unconscious Lost Wolf.
The combined blows smacked him into the air, and battered him about from all every single possible angle, time line, Existence, Dimension, and reality like a Infiniverse pinball in a endless pit of paddles being operated by seven hundred ADHD afflicted toddlers. The core smiled, knowing the Lost Wolf, the first of the six Lost Wolves, was being defeated in ways too numerous to number. It was only when the last attack, a simple poke of a saftey pin through the Lost Wolfs ear lobes, that the Core decided that was enough.
With a wave of his hand, he returned all the revived back into the calmly sitting statues they once had been, while only letting Blake stay as he was. Blake walked calmly, with a sickening sense of impending disaster over to the battared, bruised, beaten, and gravely broken from of his friend.
The Core and Morgans child simply sat there as observers, watching the next moment pass with eager attention. Finally, the silence was broken.
Blake stood up, with the lost wolf over his shoulder, walked up to the Core until the two were only inches apart, looked into his eyes and demanded just one thing.
"The child." Blake whispered into the Cores right ear, his face deathly calm.
"What of her?" The Core replied with the same tone as the man uncomfortably close to him.
"I do believe that the fight is over, and that he asked you to protect her while he and the Fusion battled. That battle is over, and you are now obligated to return her to him. Since he is unable to ask himself, I am doing it as a favor to him."
The Core smiled simply, nodded in agreement, unfolded his seven arms, and Blake picked her up with his free hand.
"Do remind the poor fellow one thing though." The Core whispered.
"What's that?" Blake inquired.
"No matter how powerful he or his allies may become. I shall simply out endure them. I have no ill will against him or anyone, honest." The Core replied happily.
"Then why did you decide to grind everything together? What possible cause did you do this for!? WHY DID MY FAMILY HAVE TO DIE!?" Blake shouted angrilly.
"Simple." The Core replied, still as glee filled as before. "I wish to return everything to the simplicity of one Existence. The best versions of everybody with be merged together, and the weakest versions shall simply fade into nothingness. You are free to go. The Door of Existence shall be your guide Blake, the Chasm however, shall now be your enemy."
Blake swore silently at the Core while he walked away from the slowly shrinking throne. His mind still raging over how weak the previous fight had left his intended victim. As he walked forward, a door of unsually blandness grew from the ground directly infront of him.
It was a beige frame, black door with a simple Oroboros sigil on the door knob. It opened for him to a ordinary hospital room, the sheets and iv system waiting expectantly for Morgans body.
"Figures." Blake muttered grumpily as he set the infant down softly on the chair next to the bed and laid his friends body onto the mattress, while the sheets rose up to cover his body up to the neck.
"The one time I get my chance to make you pay, and that damned Core gets you all softened up. I want you to fight me while you're at your best shape. Not half dead with fatal wounds in, on, and around you. I guess there's nothing to do but wait."
He pulled up a second chair, sat in it, and waited for the wounds to quickly heal themselves, like he had seen when he was first reunited with Morgan. The only sounds that could be heard, was the beeping of the heart moniter, the shushing of the respirator, and the soft crinkle of the sheets as his chest rose and fell.
The infant conferred with Bob Jones quietly. The conversations end made the offspring giggle once. Blake noticed this, and took it as a sign that things might improve. He flipped on the flat screen television that had grown out of the wall, and was surprised to see the face of Stephen Colbert looking directly at the camera, as if he was ACTUALLY looking at Blake. His face was somewhat grim, as the thick rimmed glasses outlined his face.
'The wordless fight' statistics: (click to read)