Dimensions Collide: Destiny Bond

“There go those two. I never needed them anyways.”

“Doctor!” Fate roared. He started trembling, gathering strength, getting himself back up. Getting ready to fight.

“That little princess of yours. Did you really think I wouldn’t get to her? You delayed me just a bit.”

“You-”

“I’ve known about you long since before you came here! I didn’t know you were Sixteen, but it makes sense now. You’re still the stubborn fool you were before.”

Doctor grinned in the face of Fate’s defying glare.

“No. Your tyranny ends here.”

“Will it?”

“I’ll stop you. I’ll-”

“No, you won’t. I’ll get you. Then I’ll get her. I’ll make her my doll. Your little princess was never yours to begin with.”

“You leave Celestia alone! If you put even a hand on her, I’ll-”

There was a loud smack as a tendril slapped Fate’s face, ending the outburst.

“You don’t get a say in what I do.”

He raised a spike tendril, positioning it above Fate’s head. Fate raised his sword, but he was shaking. He turned to John, looking for a familiar face, but was instead nearly broken by what he saw. John, normally so confident, so cocky, was shaken. Broken by something. Fate’s heart skipped a beat. Why? Why was John of all people like that?

The tendril struck, and Fate raised his blade, deflecting it, but it pierced his arm, forcing him to drop his blade. Another attack struck his side, shattering his ribcage and knocking him down.

“You don’t get a say at all.”

Doctor calmly walked forward, his footsteps once more echoing throughout the room. Despite the violent scene, the area was quiet. Prota was still unconscious in the corner, John, shaking on his cross, useless as he struggled to control his mind.

Fate had no one coming to help him.

Was this the end? Maybe it was time to accept defeat. In the end, he wasn’t strong enough. Fate closed his eyes.

“Destiny! Are you going to give up here?!”

A swirl of heat blasted him in the face, and he opened his eyes.

“You’re not a quitter! This isn’t the boy I trained! What are you doing?”

In front of him stood Kit, flames swirling around her as five tails swished behind her. John’s eyes snapped open. Right. There was Kit. Surely, surely there was something left. Some kind of hope. Some last stand they could take. Doctor was the [Antagonist]. He had to lose.

“A Mystic? This gets more and more interesting!” Doctor cried out with glee, pulling his tendrils back. “If I could get the soul of a Mythic…”

He began to drool at the prospect, his tendrils wiggling around.

“Destiny! Get up!” Kit roared. “I’ll hold him off! We can’t let everyone’s deaths be in vain!”

The fox growled as her nails lengthened, turning into claws. Red streaks were left behind as her figured blurred, moving faster than the eye could see. John heart began to rise, but immediately fell back down as Doctor matched her speed. Marks began to appear on the walls and the floors, cracking as chips of tile flew everywhere. Flames roared and lightning flashed but were just as quickly extinguished. Fate couldn’t keep track of what was going on, but as the pressure in the room rose, he knew that there wasn’t any time to spare.

“Prota!” Fate exclaimed, popping his second health potion. He ran over to the small girl, grabbing her head and pouring a potion down her throat.

“...John,” she mumbled as her eyes fluttered open, regaining consciousness.

“Kit is buying us time! We need to regroup and replan!”

Suddenly, there was a loud crash as Kit was thrown into a wall. Her abdomen was pierced by a tendril, and red blood spilled out, leaking toward the ground. Fate dropped the potion in his hand and let out a primal cry as his teacher was defeated in the span of seconds.

“You Mystics think you’re gods, but the god here is me. You’re nothing but fools,” Doctor said, slowly walking toward Kit. “I wanted your soul, but you’re too much of a risk to keep alive.”

“What the… how… did you…”

Doctor grinned.

“I am god. That is all you need to know. Magic such as yours is child’s play. Stopping time? Impressive, but simply not enough.”

Kit coughed up blood as Doctor approached her.

“Do you see? You held no chance in the first place! Even a Mystic could not overpower me! What chance do you have? This whole time, there was never any window of opportunity. I simply allowed you to survive. Your lives could’ve been snuffed as easily as the wick of a candle.”

He raised a tendril, ready to strike Kit down. However, the Mystic wasn’t looking at her opponent. She turned to Fate, the light in her eyes fading. She reached out, her hand stained red from the blood pooling out from her stomach. The liquid gleamed in the firelight, Kit’s body burning away as she pointed at Fate.

“Des… remember. You are… more than just the hero. You are… you.”

With that, her arm fell to her side, her body burning away.

Fate fell to his knees, his eyes wide and shaking. Shivers ran down his body as if his veins were electric wires, chilling him down to the bone. His chest grew tight as voices entered his head, mocking him, attacking him.

I’m not enough.

I’m too weak.

Again, I couldn’t save anyone.

He let out a guttural scream that shook the walls. Despair, rage, shock and pain, all expressed in one roar. Images flashed through his mind, tormenting him, taunting him. He couldn’t do it.

“You, too. It’s a shame, but your soul is also no longer needed. Goodbye, Sixteen. It was a cute reunion while it lasted.”

Fate’s eyes snapped open. No. There was no way he could let Doctor win. He would never let this man win.

Remember. You are more than just the hero.

He stood up and grabbed his sword.

What is your blade’s purpose? It’s more than just a tool.

Even if he died, he would fight till his dying breath. This man had tormented him in not one, but two lives. He couldn’t let it go. Everyone that had suffered. Everyone that had died. He might not be able to save them, but he wouldn’t let his life end the same way. He wouldn’t die for nothing. He’d avenge them.

Their deaths would not be in vain.

“Come at me.”

He opened his eyes, and two miniature suns blazed.

[God Slaying Sword: 50%]

Wind swirled around Fate’s feet as he sheathed his blade, the sheath barely containing the glow of the sword. The dust began to rise as Fate closed his eyes, grabbing the handle. Everything would be put into this one strike. It was all or nothing.

In the corner of the room, John was burnt out. He no longer knew how to feel. All he could do was sit hopelessly and watch. Watch as the [Author’s] will played out in front of him, hopeless to change it.

The room was quiet as all of Doctor’s tendrils flew forward, poised to kill, but Fate was faster. His blade came out, tracing a thin golden line across the tendrils and the room. The walls shattered, dirt pouring out from behind as the very earth was shaken. A singular golden line traced through the ceiling and floor, stopped at where Doctor stood.

“That… scared me for a second. That hurt. I’m surprised.”

Doctor remained unharmed.

With a single push, he sent Fate flying. There was a loud crack as Fate slammed against the wall, knocked unconscious. The blade fell to the ground one last time, the golden glow fading slowly.

“Do you see? Even that couldn’t stop me, manaless boy. What now?”

John stopped struggling. Yes. It was time to face it. It was his loss. Something, somewhere, had gone wrong. He didn’t know what. He didn’t know how. But Doctor wasn’t just a [Character] anymore. The [Plot] he’d once known had been defied.

Or had he been wrong all along? Maybe Fate wasn’t the [Protagonist]. Maybe he’d been going on a wild goose chace this whole time.

“Ah. I see. I… I lost.”

“It’s good to see you understand.”

“...I’d like to see it till the end, though.”

Doctor stared at John, then let out a laugh.

“Very well. There is nothing you can do, regardless of how much time you buy. I can play a little longer.”

John went to the board, but realistically, what would two more moves do? He’d buy a few more minutes. Despite all that, there was a sort of desperation he had left in him. A feeling that he wanted to take something with him to the grave. A feeling of getting one last hit in, even if that meant he lost.

[Messaging system is back online.]

“...?” John frowned. There wasn’t much left he could do. Well, there was still one thing. Something to salvage out of the dumpster fire this fight had been.

[Prota. Run. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him take your soul. Go. That’s an order.]

~~~

Prota stared at John as she read the message. Run? For what?

[Doctor wants your soul. I don’t know what the consequences of losing your soul are, but you might not be able to [Reset]. It’s not worth the risk. Get out of here.]

Prota silently crawled to her feet and tried to leave the room as quietly as she could. Doctor seemed to be preoccupied with John and somehow didn’t notice Prota sneaking out. Despite the fact that John had told her to do so, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt.

But why?

Where was this guilt coming from?

So while she silently snuck out of the room, she couldn’t bring herself to go any further. She peeked out from behind the door, watching the scene go down.

“What are you going to do now?” Doctor said in an amused tone.

“...cheat?” John shrugged, grabbing his queen from the side of the board. He placed it down in front of Doctor’s king.

Checkmate.

“You wish you could do that, don’t you? It would be convenient,” Doctor chuckled, calmly removing John’s queen. “But unfortunately, you have no such ability. You cannot reach into thin air and pull a miracle out of nowhere. Such acts are illogical, boy.”

“And being god isn’t?” John said, picking the queen up and putting it back defiantly.

“If it is me who is god, then no, it is not.” Doctor put the queen back, a hint of irritation showing on his face.

John looked at the board and rubbed his chin. Prota stared at him. Why was he doing this? Was it simply to buy more time? Somehow, Prota didn’t think so. His expression seemed to indicate that he really wanted to win this chess game.

But why?

“Give up,” Doctor said, shaking his head with a sigh. “Really. There is no point. There is no move you could possibly play that would let you win.”

John smirked. “That’s what you think. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Really! I’ll show you. If you do that, then I’ll simply do this, and then no matter what you do, it’s checkmate. Any other foolish moves you wish to try?”

John shook his head. “Yeah? How about this foolish move?”

John moved his king directly in front of Doctor’s.

“Here. I call it the king’s gambit.”

“That… is not a legal move.”

“Yeah? Says who?” A fire began to blaze in John’s eyes. Prota watched, completely absorbed.

“Sure, you take my king. But then I'll take yours.”

Positioned just behind John’s king was a pawn. It’d been the cause of checkmate before, but now that John’s king was in front of Doctor’s… well, what?

“Hm… intriguing. You are suggesting mutually assured destruction.”

“Sure.”

“But that still accomplishes nothing. You cannot play after I take your king.”

“That’s according to the rules of chess. But what if I don’t feel like playing chess? What if is the move I want to play? I won’t play anything else.”

John looked up smugly. “So, what now? Do you put my king back? Or do you play?”

Doctor looked down at the board, running his fingers through his hair.

“Fine. I’ll play your silly little game.”

Doctor moved his king back. John pushed his king back to where it was.

“...what is this?”

“Well, now you move your king back, or I get out of checkmate.”

“You are awfully obnoxious.”

John grinned. “Good. That’s the point.”

Doctor’s head shot up, glaring at John. “Really! That’s all you intend to do? Be obnoxious?”

“Are you annoyed?”

“You are like a fly, buzzing in my ear! Why would I not be? End this, now!”

John swept the pieces off the board.

“Sure. Stalemate. There we go. I win.”

“You… win?”

“You beat me in chess. Sure. Good job. You get a gold medal. But who cares? Sure, you won the game of chess. But I got what I wanted. And you failed to get what you want. So who’s the real winner here?”

“You-”

“Did you checkmate me? No. Did you get annoyed? Yes.”

John threw his head back and laughed.

“Seriously. For someone as intelligent as you are, or so you say, you fail at something as simple as this. Something as simple as dealing with an idiot. I never thought being an idiot would work so well. You simply break apart, Doctor. Your loss.”

“I break apart?!”

“Aren’t you doing that right now?”

Prota’s eyes widened. Something came back to her.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that. Prota. Victory in chess is defined by capturing the king. However, your version of victory can be whatever you want it to be.”

“If your version of victory means you don’t sacrifice anything, then don’t sacrifice anything. If your victory is the utter defeat of the opponent, no matter what, then sacrifice everything. You need to decide what ‘victory’ is to you.”

Victory. Right. She squeezed her eyes. Something was bothering her. She felt like she’d forgotten something. Something important.

[Seriously, I’m using a lot of energy to do this. The more I message you, the later I’ll be able to meet you.]

Prota’s eyes snapped open as the message came through her system. It was that… thing. Again. Who was this? What was this?

[John. Didn’t you come for him? Why are you hanging back like a coward? John wants you to leave. What do you want?]

“You think you’re doing this to protect me, right? But that’s not all you’re doing. Prota. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve tried, it’s been for “me.” You did it because I asked you to do something.”

That was right. She’d come here to save John. She couldn’t leave without him. Without thinking, she reached into her cloak and pulled out the pawn John had given her. Somehow, in her mind, it made sense.

Right. In their current situation, she was the queen, and he was the pawn. But what would happen if she were to sacrifice herself to save him? To push him forward, to keep him safe? John was, in the end, stronger than she.

Right. He hadn’t come in here to save her. She’d come in here to save him.

[That’s better. Go.]

~~~

“You’ve wasted my time more than enough,” Doctor growled, his tendrils flaring up. “I granted you this favour, and this is what you do?”

“I got what I wanted,” John smirked. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“That’s it. You live no longer. I wish I could torture you more, but apparently that’s not possible, given how much trouble you are alive, so I’ll just kill you here and now.”

John leaned back and closed his eyes. He was used to death. It was practically an old friend at this point. So all he had to do was wait for the attack to come.

But it never did.

“...what?” Doctor’s voice whispered. John slowly opened his eyes.

In front of him was Prota, glaring at Doctor, staff in her hands. Her eyes were glowing bright as a trio of Blossoms floated in front of her, chilling the air and coating the ground with frost. He didn’t understand. What was she doing here? Why? She needed to run.

The panic began to set in again. That primal sense of fear. No. She needed to leave. Everything was falling apart. He couldn’t accomplish what he wanted. It was all over if she died here. Why? Why did she come back? He didn’t know what would happen if her soul disappeared. If Doctor got a hold of it. Would she [Reset]? Or would she be eternally trapped in this mad man’s hands?

“Prota?!”

“...John.”

“What are you-”

“I… am protecting John. This is what I want.”

“Prota, get out! What are you-”

“John,” Prota said quietly, but her soft voice was unusually firm. “This is what I choose.”

“Your what-”

“You told me to choose,” Prota said, turning back to Doctor. “This is my choice.”

Doctor looked at Prota in disbelief, then threw his head back and cackled.

“You’d made it out! I hadn’t even noticed! And yet here you are, back of your own will! This could not be getting any better. Manaless boy. I must thank you. Really. I cannot believe things worked out like this.”

He stepped toward Prota, but she didn’t shake. She continued to look up at him defiantly, her hands holding her staff tight. There was tension in her blank face. A determination that hadn’t been there before. The slightest bit of emotion was shining through.

“Go,” she whispered.

The Blossoms flew forward, and Doctor easily dodged them, slowly walking toward Prota.

“Little girl. You have a very special talent, but it’s not enough. Oh, I wish I’d had you so much sooner. There’s so much about you that I need. Oh, how delicious…”

Prota felt a shiver run down her spine. This man was truly disgusting. But that wasn’t going to stop her. She stared up right into his eyes as her hands moved, a Frozen Flame starting to form in her hands.

“Do it! A last hurrah, little girl,” Doctor exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. “Hit me with everything you have!”

Prota narrowed her eyes. He was mocking her. She would make him regret it.

“Now!” she yelled, throwing the spell forward. Behind Doctor, the three Blossoms that had stopped exploded, knocking Doctor forward into Prota’s Frozen Flame. The spell pierced his stomach and exploded, sending him flying back into the wall. She didn’t let up and released everything she had. Spell after spell flew forward in an endless barrage, unrelenting and unending. Not a single shred of hesitation showed.

There was nothing but pure determination in Prota. Nothing but a singular thought. There was no more hiding. No more running. Those eyes that hated her. Those eyes that tormented her. The people she was afraid to touch, to kill. No more. She would decide what she did. Spell after spell flew forward, unrelenting, unhesitating. An endless rain of magic, with one sole intent: to kill.

John had asked her to be his protector. So when she wanted to protect someone, she would. Because that was what she wanted to do.

Doctor’s body began burning up, clothes and all.

“Prota… what the-” John started, but froze up as something rose up from the flames.

His lab coat was all burnt up, revealing what was underneath: a wriggling mess of tendrils, squirming and squishing into the form of a human body. Doctor’s “hands” were merely gloves, now burnt away. Only the head was real, but the hair had burnt away, leaving singes and a balding head.

“No more playing,” Doctor growled.

A dozen tendrils shot forward, grabbing Prota by the arms and legs, lifting her up and rendering her helpless. She tried forming a fireball, but resistance was quickly met with a slap to the face.

“I’ll have fun tearing you apart. Peeling your skin from your flesh, cutting you open, piece by piece-”

Doctor’s monologue was interrupted as John rushed forward, delivering a mighty blow to Doctor’s chin. He’d always maintained that the best time to attack was during a monologue. Unfortunately, the attack did absolutely nothing.

“...right. You first.”

Doctor dropped Prota and turned to John. He stared up, panting, pain and fear written all over his face.

[Prota. Run. Now. Both of us are going to die here. I appreciate you coming back, but it’s serious this time. You can’t afford to stay.]

“I’ve had enough of you. Despite being the weakest, you’ve done the most to me. Even more than that Mystic fox. I wanted you to suffer, but now, I just want you gone.”

Doctor’s tendrils rose up, and John stared defiantly. He’d come back stronger. He’d never wanted to [Reset] more in his life. This bastard. This man that thought he was above everyone else. He’d bring him down, tear him down from his fake throne and show him the reality that was, ironically enough, a fake world.

“Die!” Doctor shrieked, sending all of his tendrils barreling toward John. He stared at them defiantly. [Determination] was active, but it was too late anyway. They got closer and closer, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.

It never came.

John’s eyes slowly opened in confusion, unsure of what was going on. As soon as he saw what was in front of him, he froze.

“P- Prota…?”

Prota had somehow regained her strength and dashed forward, throwing her body between Doctor and John just in time. The column of tendrils pierced through her stomach, holding her up in the air as blood dripped down to the ground. A glowing orb hovered at the tip, a small thing the size of a marble.

Prota’s soul.

Just like Olivia, the blood began to pool as John stared at her body in terror. Sound around him deafened as he felt shivers running down his body, his heart pumping to keep up with the oxygen his terror riddled body needed. Despite the flames all around him, his body went cold as if frozen solid.

“I- I told you to run… Why? Why are you here?”

Prota’s head weakly turned, and despite her lack of facial expression, satisfaction was written all over it.

“Protect… John…” Prota wheezed, somehow conscious despite her soul being disconnected from her body. “I wanted to… protect… thank you.”

The light in her eyes went out.

“...you,” Doctor growled, looking at John. “You messed everything up.”

John wasn’t looking at Doctor, though, nor was he paying attention to him. He was staring Prota in the eyes. Her dead eyes. He felt a splash of blood splatter onto his face, and he slowly reached up to wipe it away. He looked down at his fingers, stained with blood.

Prota’s blood.

It shouldn’t have come to this.

[Determination is strong.]

“...how convenient,” John muttered, getting up. “Ready, just for when it no longer matters. Because the last thing you want is a free victory, right? You don’t want me being the solution. You want it to hurt. You want me to hurt.”

“The… her soul. Incredible. I got it. You. I’ll take my time with you,” Doctor growled. “I’ll tear you limb from limb until I hear your cries, take you apart, stitch you back together as I-”

Doctor stopped as John took a step forward. He looked around. Olivia, dead. Danjo’s body, limp on the floor, gauntlets still alive. Kit was slumped against the wall streaked with her blood. Fate was unconscious.

Somehow, despite all this, the chessboard had been untouched.

“...what’s this?”

John reached down as a piece of wood rolled out from Prota’s cloak. It was red from her blood, but that didn’t stop John from recognizing it.

“That pawn. She kept it.”

John looked at the chessboard again. Cheating was one way to win. And, like he’d said, victory wasn’t determined by chess.

But what if he wanted to win chess? Even in a lost position? What then?

“Doctor,” John called out.

Doctor was so flabbergasted that he didn’t say a word. He watched as John threw the pawn away, the sound of wood clattering ringing in the corner.

“It’s a lost position. I admit it.”

John stood back up.

“I can’t cheat. And it seems chess is the game we need to play.”

He walked over to the board and calmly reconstructed the position. Mate in one. It was unavoidable. His left eye lit up. He didn’t bother to speak as he tapped the side of his head, but his system made it clear for him anyway.

[Power: x1,000,000]

A childish system, one clearly designed to overpower enemies. There was no thought required to use it. No balancing aspected to make it fair. John had complained about its lack of quality before.

There was no complaining now.

“Chess is used a lot in analogies. I mean, who can blame the [Authors]? It makes for some pretty good analogies. About the sacrifice of life. Sacrifice for the greater good. How something insignificant can become something great. How seemingly useless moves can turn the tide. Yada yada yada.”

John stood back up and turned toward Doctor, slowly walking forward. There was nothing dramatic about it. His stride was regular and calm. There was nothing as dramatic as cracks underneath his feet, or pressure building around him. No wind. No thunder. No storm.

“Let’s say you and I, we’re sitting at the chessboard. It’s mate in one. What now?”

Soon, he was directly in front of Doctor.

“I’m going to be honest with you. Chess is fun, but I was never into playing competitively or anything. So if you wanna put something on the line, I’ll be playing a different game.”

He grabbed Doctor, who struggled, but found he couldn’t break John’s grip.

“If I’m losing on the chess board, I just need to make my opponent lose at life. They may take my queen, but I just need to take their life. How can I lose when my opponent is dead? Right? Right?!”

At this point, John wasn’t even talking to Doctor. His head tilted back as he let out a hysterical laugh. It was the laugh of someone who’d lost all reason, all hope, and had given in to insanity instead. A laugh filled with nothing. He was right. This [Story] was never meant to be a happy one for him. But that was ok. He had the perfect target to take everything out on. He didn’t even notice as the marble known as Prota’s soul fell to the floor with a clatter, its glow fading away.

“If this world is a game of chess, and we are the players, then I just need the ability to influence something other than the board. Instead of aiming, I’ll just aim for you. Then you’ll never make a move again. You were just another piece on the board, another thing to be removed. Something to be destroyed. Something to be killed.”

John lifted Doctor up and threw him up into the air, then leapt up and kicked him like a ball, sending Doctor crashing through the ceiling and all the way into the night air. The silhouette of the monster was outlined in the light of the moon, tendrils flailing. John looked up and clenched his fists, power surging through his body. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t use it for anything that mattered.

He just wanted this one last thing.

“Checkmate.”