The bigger Picture

"Click," the pressure plate sent an arrow right through Jake's mouth. The silence of the situation was deafening. A cicada could be heard buzzing not far from the entrance where Jake stood. The air was filled with pollen, bugs crawled around, and occasional rays of sun broke through the clouds.

The moist, damp air suddenly changed as a gust of wind flew in. Jake instinctively grabbed the cave entrance with his hand. His knees weakened, trembling, and he struggled to remain upright. He looked down with a glimmer of hope that maybe there was a chance he could be saved. Pools of dark red blood dripped from the bottom of his lips, panic ensued, his eyes widened, and he grabbed the arrow frantically, only causing more pain.

Jake still had enough consciousness to look around and try to speak, but all he saw was black. He was going into shock, gargling on his own blood, and made an attempt to speak. A single tear fell from his eye. His fate had been sealed, and he knew death would soon visit him. He kept spasming, nothing came out, and not words were his last moments of life. Instead, it was filled with suffering and agony.

In his last moments, Jake thought to himself, "The hand of death sure is cruel. Please be gentle to me, Death, and guide me to my mother and father. I'm sure they're waiting." Warmth was all he felt now, bliss. He had lost so much blood that he seemed to have died before collapsing.

"JAAAKE!" echoed through the canyon. Blood pooled onto the ashen cave floor as he staggered back and forth, then collapsed on the antechamber of the cavern.

Ahwatukee lay a mere ten miles to the south, downstream, nestled in the cradle of this verdant land. Home to roughly a thousand souls who, through unity and toil, had carved out an oasis of life amidst the unforgiving terrain of Visage. For Visage had witnessed its fair share of calamities and cataclysms - times of strife, of battles, and of the darkest sorrows. These elder folk, custodians of history's mantle, whispered tales of an age when the Pantheons, ancient and enigmatic, once strode this realm with mastery over magic in its myriad forms - enchantments, witchcraft, incantations, and the cryptic art of necromancy.

And then, there were the Rovers, masterful blacksmiths of towering stature, some attested to be giants of nine feet, providing the Pantheons with implements of destruction. They fashioned tools of death and defiance - hand cannons, rifles, snipers, pistols, and even the enigmatic sword guns. The age-old texts chronicled their presence, reaffirming the existence of giants in that epoch.

Yet, the chronicles did not end in mirth and valor. The Pantheons, despite their mastery over enchantments, could not unlock the true depths of arcane power that the Witches of Harmony had unearthed. These nefarious sorceresses had discovered the elusive realm of soul magic, the crucible for the creation of weapons of cataclysmic devastation. A mysterious calculus governed the deployment of these accursed artifacts - only ten could exist at any given moment, for should the tally breach nine, it would beckon supernatural entities, divinities, monstrosities, demons, and beings whose visage defied mortal comprehension.

To thwart this inexorable march toward annihilation, a new breed emerged - The Blades. Tasked with a singular mission, they were the guardians of the forbidden arsenal. Their sacred duty: to end the lives of any unfortunate soul who dared to lay hands upon these weapons of desolation, to thwart the witch's prophecy of the gateway to otherworldly dimensions, the harbinger of true apocalypse.

The Pantheons had embarked on a harrowing quest a century prior, a century preceding the fateful arrow's gruesome journey through Jake's skull. Their mission? To confront the inaugural Witch of Harmony, Calamity, who had just forged the very first Blade—the unwavering guardian of the dreaded Halberd of HATRED. The weapon's ominous presence hung heavy in her trembling grasp as she issued her dire instructions.

On bended knee, Jason absorbed her words, his newborn consciousness struggling to comprehend the gravity of his purpose. "Jason Vahxer," Calamity spoke in hushed tones, her voice quivering. "Protector of HATRED, your ability—Sonic Boom—is your soul's true nature. Let it guide you, but beware, for its power is perilous. Protect innocent civilians, and prosecute those who misuse this weapon, for they flirt with the true apocalypse."

Jason's thoughts swirled with confusion, his gaze now fixed upon Calamity's lifeless form. Blood, as dark as his new reality, marred his visage as a spear jutted from her chest. "Taken?" Jason's voice trembled with disbelief. "Why would they do this to her? Where has she gone? Is this the death she foretold? She once enveloped me in warmth, and now I'm left with this gaping pit in my stomach."

In the midst of his turmoil, Jason's powers began to awaken, his mind flooded with memories and knowledge of the Witches. He glanced around, his eyes wide, and witnessed the Pantheons closing in on Calamity's location.

With resolve in his heart, Jason rose, his fingers digging into the earth below. In an instant, he catapulted into the midst of fifty soldiers, his very presence a whirlwind of impending doom. "Revenge... revenge... revenge," he chanted, his eyes now glazed with madness.

The Siege Teams Leader confronted him, accusing him of the cold-blooded murder of fourteen men. Hatred surged within Jason as he retorted, "Cold blood, huh? Calamity warned you all of the True Apocalypse and the peril of the Weapons of Woe. None of you listened."

His eyes darkened, his hands quivered, and the air around him began to tremble. With lightning speed, he unleashed his power, his blows coming down like a relentless tempest. The soldiers fell one by one, their skulls crushed, their lives snuffed out.

As the massacre unfolded, Jason's thoughts turned to Calamity's final moments, her words echoing in his mind. "Try not to harm civilians." With newfound clarity, he wielded his powers to safeguard innocent bystanders from the impending rubble.

But the soldiers weren't finished. They called for reinforcements, and Jason now faced over twenty seasoned warriors. His voice filled with unbridled rage, he declared, "I'll show you cold blood!" His attacks came with a ferocity that defied mortal comprehension.

One by one, the soldiers met their end, their lives extinguished by the relentless fury of Jason's wrath. Standing amidst the carnage, he battled the turbulent emotions within him, his heart heavy with grief and indignation. He turned away from the blood-soaked scene, tears mingling with the crimson stains on his hands, and leaped toward Calamity's house.

Approaching her lifeless form, he reached out and clasped her hand, whispering, "Forgive me for straying from my path, Calamity. I must continue my journey. Rest in peace in the afterlife."

With a determined leap, he ascended to the clouds, heading toward the ashen cave, a sanctuary of solitude where he would grapple with the brutal reality of his newfound existence.

Upon his arrival at the cave, he was met by an unexpected presence. Hades, the guardian of the Scythe of Fear, stood there. Jason extended his hand in greeting, saying, "I am Jason. My condolences for your loss."

Hades clasped Jason's hand firmly and replied, "I am Hades, the guardian of the Scythe of Fear. Thank you for your condolences. Calamity's death has left a void that we all must now confront."

As they exchanged greetings, Hades began to fill Jason in on the recent events, including details about Persephone, the enigmatic figure with whom Hades was intertwined.

the fifth witch of harmony, Persephone, the creator of the Scythe of Fear, and Hades, the protector of the Scythe of Fear, shared a unique bond. Persephone was a master at creating incarnates, beings she treated as family in the absence of blood relations. Her domain was lush with vegetation, and her house teemed with vibrant plant life. She saw each plant and incarnate as a precious gift.

Persephone was the witch who discovered the art of attaching soul magic to weapons. She explained this to her first human creation, Hades, with a touch of humor, "Hades, my creation, everyone's soul is different. Your soul, for instance, is shaped like the Volcano MT. Senjogahara – quite fitting for a handsome man with a fiery personality."

Hades couldn't help but puff out his chest with pride. He was Persephone's greatest masterpiece, and she never let him forget it. In her eyes, he was a work of art.

She continued her explanation, "Human souls are delicate, like glass, ready to shatter. However, they have a protective shell that hides them from view. Only magical beings can perceive a soul's colors, shapes, and true nature. Hades, I've found a way to attach soul magic to weapons. It's as simple as imagining that the weapons have their own souls, connected to the user's soul by a string that wraps tightly around both, making them one. The weapon then unlocks the user's true nature."

Hades listened attentively and asked, "Master, am I important to you, and if so, in what way?"

Persephone smiled, her green eyes gleaming with affection. "Hades, you are a unique creation, known as a Blade, born with your true nature unlocked. Your task in this realm is to protect the ten Weapons of Woe created by us witches of harmony. I won't reveal the specifics of your mission, but know this: if someone touches those weapons, you must eliminate them."

Hades pondered this responsibility, but curiosity got the better of him, "What if I let someone live after their soul has intertwined with the blade's core?"

Persephone explained further, "Allowing them to live isn't disastrous if only a few users exist. However, even one active user initiates early stages of the 'true apocalypse.' Otherworldly beings are drawn here, hungry for power. It's not as dramatic as Beatriz makes it sound, but the more users, the greater the danger. If all ten weapons have active users, the true apocalypse occurs, and the consequences can be catastrophic."

As time passed, Hades became more skilled and bonded with Persephone. Unfortunately, Persephone eventually succumbed to an illness that even her magic couldn't cure. Hades buried her in her beloved garden, surrounded by blooming flowers. He maintained her cherished plants, but all the other incarnates she had created perished alongside her.

Two weeks before the first witch of harmony was killed, Persephone's time came. Hades, the Blade she had created, sat and waited in her woodland lodge.

The dimly lit lodge felt surprisingly spacious, with wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling above. The shelves along the walls held a collection of books, and the center of the room boasted a grand golden chandelier that bathed everything below in a soft, warm glow.

As the pantheon forces stormed into the lodge, Hades calmly assessed the room. The leader stationed himself near the entrance, flanked by two soldiers on either side. The rest of the soldiers had scattered across the room - some lingered near the bookshelves, others stood closer to the chandelier, and a few were positioned nearer to Hades.

Amid the escalating tension, Hades couldn't resist a sly comment, "You know, gentlemen, doors usually come with doorknobs. I suppose in Agra, doors might be a novelty."

One of the soldiers found himself in a predicament as his gun jammed near a shelf of books just beneath the golden chandelier. His frustration was evident as he muttered, "My gun jammed, this is impossible."

Hades couldn't resist the opportunity to tease, "It's not impossible, my friend, just highly improbable."

With a calculated glance toward the looming chandelier, Hades orchestrated a dramatic moment. The massive fixture crashed down, splintering into shards upon impact with the wooden floor, crushing the soldiers beneath its weight. Hades smirked and quipped, "Well, there goes the mood lighting."

Amid the chaos, Hades's speed and precision became evident. He dispatched the remaining soldiers with ruthless efficiency. The room echoed with the sounds of necks snapping and bodies collapsing to the ground, 6 soldiers whom Hades spared for a specific purpose.

When the soldiers near the bookshelf took aim and fired at Hades, he effortlessly stopped the bullets in mid-air.

With a sly grin, Hades looked at the soldiers struggling to reload and said, "Reload, gentlemen. Maybe this time you'll hit something. But don't be too hasty; my true nature is winning, after all."

With most of the soldiers incapacitated, only two remained standing, their faces drained of color. Hades approached them with a mischievous grin, his demeanor surprisingly friendly.

"Now, boys, I've got an offer for you," he began, leaning casually on the shattered chandelier. "You see, I'm in a generous mood today. You can either reload those guns of yours and try your luck again, or you can take this letter to your big-shot boss."

The soldiers exchanged nervous glances, clearly not keen on another round with the enigmatic Hades.

He continued, "Tell your boss that Hades, the Blade of Persephone, sends his regards. Oh, and remind him that doors usually come with doorknobs." Hades winked at them, adding an amusing twist to an otherwise deadly encounter.

The soldiers nodded rapidly, their faces contorted in a mixture of fear and relief. Without wasting a second, they hurriedly left the lodge, carrying Hades's message with them.

Hades watched them go with a chuckle, then settled back into his comfortable position on the couch. "Well, that was entertaining," he muttered to himself, "Time to wait for the next century, I suppose." He begins to make his way to the ashen cave Hades maintains his unique charm even in this intense situation, leaving the soldiers with an amusing story to tell when they return to their boss

In the realm of the Witches of Harmony, Angel Agny, the third witch, struggled with her purpose. Creating a Blade was no easy feat, and she had failed four times before. The art of giving life through soul magic was known to only a handful of witches, and Angel Agny felt the weight of her responsibility.

On the fateful night when the fifth attempt was to be made, Angel Agny summoned her determination and called forth Lilith, the fifth Blade. As Lilith awoke to consciousness, Angel Agny greeted her warmly, explaining her mission.

"Lilith the 5th, welcome to consciousness. I am Angel Agny, the third witch of harmony. I've brought you here to protect the Whip of AGONY. Your duty is to ensure that no one uses the Whip of AGONY. If someone picks it up and unlocks their true nature, you must end them. Too many users of these weapons will bring about the end of our world."

The room was dimly lit, adorned with tapestries hanging from the walls. Lilith found herself on her knees, face to face with Angel Agny, who had a sweet smile that warmed her heart.

"Am I human, Angel?" Lilith asked, her voice filled with joy.

Angel Agny's reply was tender, "You are more than human, Lilith. You are a protector of this world."

Their voices echoed through the stone cabin, creating an atmosphere of solemnity. Angel continued, "You may leave now, Lilith. The other Blades are waiting for you. There are more like you to protect the weapons. Please be kind to Jason; he witnessed something terrible before going to the ashen cave. Protect your brethren with your life, but more importantly, protect the weapons. Goodbye, and be safe, Lilith."

With those words, Lilith slowly backed out of the doorway and began her journey to the ashen cave. She ran through the snowy forest, thoughts of Angel Agny's kindness filling her mind.

As she moved further away from the cabin, Lilith's heart sank when she saw a hazy glow in the night sky. The cabin was on fire, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Tears welled up in her eyes, and anger boiled within her.

Angel Agny was gone, and her beloved home, filled with her soul's essence, was reduced to ashes. Lilith couldn't bear the possibility of Angel's death. She stopped in her tracks, snowflakes gently falling around her.

Her memory replayed moments with Angel - her smiles, her calm demeanor, and the warmth Lilith had felt when their cheeks had touched. It was all gone now, forever.

Lilith couldn't contain her grief any longer. She looked up at the snowy sky, and in an act of defiance and despair, she screamed. The sound that erupted from her was unlike anything the world had ever heard. The shockwave of her scream disintegrated trees and turned snow into vapor within a one-mile radius.

Tears streamed down her face as she realized the extent of her true nature. She covered her mouth in shock, but the damage was done. Her eyes were bloodshot as she continued her journey to the ashen cave, a mix of anger, grief, and determination swirling within her.

Clara Evermoon, the second witch of harmony, faced a daunting task - to create Eclipse, the protector of the Glaive Of Night And Day. Eclipse was one of the Blades destined to safeguard the world from the cataclysmic consequences of the weapons of destruction. Unlike Jason, Eclipse was fortunate enough to be spared from witnessing his creator's untimely demise. Clara provided him with a comprehensive understanding of his abilities and how to navigate the complex landscape of human emotions.

Eclipse's true nature was a labyrinthine enigma compared to Jason's. He possessed the gift of shadow armor and weaponry. This unique ability allowed him to envelop himself in a thick shroud of shadowy armor that not only slowed enemy attacks but could outright negate them. Moreover, his mastery extended to creating weapons born from the very shadows that clung to him. The choice of weapon depended on the situation he found himself in, and his shadowy armor adapted accordingly.

With solemn obedience, Eclipse received his directive - to seek refuge in the same ashen cave where Jason lay dormant. He was to remain hidden, awaiting the destined awakening that would transpire a century hence.

Meanwhile, the relentless Pantheons and Rovers were relentless in their pursuit. They homed in on Clara Evermoon's hideout. Clara, renowned for her ethereal beauty, had endured a lifetime of sexual harassment, a cruel testament to the darkness that tainted the world. Her misfortune took a vile turn as she was apprehended and brought before the leader of the Pantheons, who allegedly resided in the city of Agra.

Gazing upon her captors with a mixture of defiance and disdain, Clara voiced her bitter observations, "Those are the men you have back there? I can't fathom that they're the supposed protectors of this city. They offered little protection when they had their way with me. My pleas for them to stop fell on deaf ears."

A flicker of revulsion crossed her captor's face before he silenced her with a menacing growl, "SILENCE, BITCH! Why are the witches of harmony creating the Blades?"

Clara, undeterred by the looming threat, responded with genuine concern, "We're creating the Blades to safeguard humanity. When there are more than nine active and living users of the weapons of destruction, it triggers a gateway through which beings from incomprehensible dimensions may emerge. Our world would be overrun by creatures beyond our comprehension. Why are you hunting us down?"

The Pantheon leader, driven by greed and ambition, coldly confessed, "We seek the weapons for ourselves. We may be driven by avarice, but our evolution hinges upon securing them. In any case, we have extracted what we needed from you."

With a swift, lethal motion, a blade swept through the air, severing Clara's head cleanly from her shoulders. The room bore witness to the gruesome spectacle, the lifeless eyes of the beautiful witch forever silenced.

Sage, the only male Witch among the Harmony Witches, faced a crucial mission: creating Glimmer, the guardian of the Shield of Light. Glimmer, a stunning figure with ocean-blue eyes, diamond-blue-highlighted brunette hair, and adorned with tattoos inspired by Sage's own tastes, inherited not only his appearance but also his charisma. At 6'2" with an angular, symmetrical face and long legs, she exuded an undeniable presence.

As Glimmer awoke, Sage urged, "Glimmer, it's time. I've merged the essence of the Shield of Light with you. You must flee immediately. Please, Glimmer, awaken. They've found us. Don't shield me. Your primary mission is reaching the cave 200 miles south."

A loud crash, and a spear penetrating the door, jolted Glimmer into action. "Please, Glimmer, go. This place is compromised. Don't prioritize my protection. Your task is your own survival, heading to the cave. It's of utmost importance."

Glimmer responded calmly, "Why are you crying, human? Are you injured? You're my creator. Why can't I protect you? And what is this Shield of Light you're talking about?"

"I can't explain it all now," Sage began before another spear struck. "Glimmer, please. There are ten more Blades like you. Your duty is guarding the weapons of annihilation. You came into being through an intricate spell of soul magic, born from nothing. I am your creator, and I command you to depart. Humanity's safety is at stake. Please."

"Why can't you escape, Sage? I can shield you," Glimmer implored.

"No, Glimmer, you can't," Sage replied gravely. "Beatriz foresees a bleak future if the Blades protect us. I must sacrifice myself for your escape. If you need to confront these men, do so, but reach that cave and ensure no one follows you."

"Why can't you flee, Sage? I can protect you," Glimmer pleaded.

"I'm truly sorry, Glimmer, but my destiny is sealed," Sage said sadly. "Beatriz has warned us of the repercussions. I must meet my end for your freedom. If you must engage these men, do it, but make your way to the cave, and make sure no one tails you."

A Rover entered, brandishing a hand cannon at Sage. "So, you're Sage, the warlock, the fourth Harmony Witch. Is she the Blade, Sage? The protector of your weapons? Where's the Shield of Light?"

Glimmer's fury surged as she pondered their relentless pursuit. Sage stands forward walking to the gaurd "Why do you covet these weapons so fervently? Can't you see the vision foretold by Beatriz? We tried to warn you of the true apocalypse, but you, both Rovers and Pantheons, remain blindly obstinate—"

Before she could finish, a gunshot silenced Sage forever. "Futile gibberish, warlock. What a waste," the Rover sneered.

Glimmer's eyes flared, revealing her true nature. Glowing markers appeared on the ground, diamond-shaped and visible only to her.

Glimmer's true power manifested: instantaneous astral teleportation to these markers. She left a luminous blue trail as she moved in her ethereal form. Those caught in her teleportation met an incendiary fate, their souls torn apart from within.

A Rover at the chamber's threshold turned to ashes as Glimmer shouted, "I'll annihilate every one of you mother fuckers." She placed markers behind the soldiers, systematically tearing apart their souls.

"AHHHHHHH!" Glimmer's scream echoed through the forest, and she stood among the remains of her foes. "I won't let a single soul lay claim to these weapons in your memory, my creator."

As Glimmer, the guardian of the Shield of Light, vanished into the night, her luminous trail fading, she left behind a trail of ashes and echoes of her determination. The Rovers and Pantheons, their numbers greatly diminished, stood bewildered and defeated, finally understanding the gravity of the witches' warnings.

In the distance, the ashen cave lay hidden, a sanctuary untouched by the chaos that had unfolded. This sacred chamber held the destiny of the Blades, the protectors of the Weapons of Woe.

Inside the ashen cave, one by one, the Blades emerged from the shadows, summoned by the eerie resonance of their shared purpose. Their eyes met, and in that moment, they understood that their roles as guardians bound them beyond mere existence.

With the Blades assembled, Hades, the Blade of Persephone, stepped forward, his charm and charisma evident even in this solemn gathering. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice carrying the weight of their mission.

"Welcome, my fellow Blades," Hades began, a glint of mischief in his eyes he looks over at Loki and Loki is not amused . "I trust you've all had your share of 'interesting' encounters with our dear Pantheon and Rover friends." A few chuckled at his understatement.

Hades continued, "But let's not forget why we're here. Beatriz, the first witch of harmony, entrusted us with a vital mission: to protect these Weapons of Woe and prevent the true apocalypse from befalling our world."

He paused for a moment, letting the gravity of their duty sink in. "Now, I know we all have unique powers and personalities, but remember, we are a team. Each one of us plays a crucial role in this endeavor. As much as I'd love to regale you with tales of my recent encounter with some very 'persistent' soldiers, let's save that for later."

A few Blades smiled, appreciating Hades's ability to inject humor even in the direst of situations.

Hades concluded, his tone more serious, "Beatriz's vision guides us, and her wishes are clear. The fate of the world rests in our hands. We must obey her directives, protect these weapons at all costs, and ensure that no more than nine users ever activate them."

He looked around at his fellow Blades, a sense of unity and purpose filling the cave. "Together, we can prevent the true apocalypse and safeguard the world for future generations. Are you with me, my fellow Blades?"

A resounding chorus of agreement echoed through the cave, a bond forged in the face of an uncertain destiny.

Hades, ever the charismatic storyteller, grinned mischievously as he continued, "Now, my friends, let me share a little secret with you. As much as I relish our mission to save the world, there's one place I simply can't wait to revisit."

He leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "You remember that poor guy who got an arrow stuck in his face earlier? Oh, the look on his face was priceless, let me tell you. But here's the kicker: that entire backstory we just went through? Well, it was mostly to catch our dear reader up on the juicy details."

Hades winked at his fellow Blades, breaking the fourth wall in his unique style. "You see, I can't wait to go back to that moment and relive it. “

He chuckled, the shared memories of the witches and their own experiences adding to the humor of the situation. "So, my fellow Blades, while we embark on our world-saving adventure, just remember to enjoy the ride. After all, we've got a front-row seat to one heck of a show."

Hades scanned the group of Blades, his eyes falling upon a particular figure who had been lurking in the shadows. He pointed at them with exaggerated surprise. "Oh, and how could I forget about our mysterious, shadowy companion over there? You know, the one who hasn't been formally introduced to the reader yet."

The other Blades exchanged knowing glances, clearly aware of the inside joke that the reader wasn't privy to.

Hades leaned in conspiratorially, his tone full of playful mystery. "You see, dear reader, yes you person reading this at this moment in time in every good story needs a bit of intrigue. So, let's keep this one under wraps for now. But don't worry, you'll meet our enigmatic friend soon enough plus if the chapter goes on any longer you might stop reading. Just wait until you discover the secrets they're hiding. It's going to be a wild ride!"

With a wink and a theatrical flourish, Hades signaled for his fellow Blades to gather, leaving the reader both curious and excited about the forthcoming revelation of the elusive character known as the "shadow companion."

“ 100 years is when it goes down guys let’s be ready “ hades blurts before the reader can flip the page and chapter one has come to a close