Thursday, August 30, 2012

The Anti Chronicles: Narnethia Part #1

by Adam Narya of Narnethia

Location: Tibet mountain outpost. Time: 6 AM.

The Wardens have briefly left chasing the Luzonians in order to eradicate the Elitinati in Tibet. What they find, however, are Aryan and his Darwens. A terrific battle pitting millions of men against each other commences, and the results are night catastrophic for the environment around Tibet. Meanwhile, Herr Narya, Emperor, has personally traveled to meet his troops in their final victory over the EitE (Elitinati in the East). Inevitably he runs into his anti-twin. A knowing smile is exchanged, a nod of the head - then they are at one another's throats.

First one will get beaten down, only to rise again and turn the tables. Triumph seems impossible, for they are evenly matched. Little did they know, however, that they were ever steadily approaching the portal, one foot back/forward at a time, until they stood on the edge of it. Herr Aryan falls to the ground under a sudden barrage from Narya, but he is able t weather it. Building up to a tremendous knockout punch, he gives it, but in the process of flying backwards, Herr Narya managed to kick him in the chin, causing him to fall backward with a dislocated jaw.

The Emperor landed in the portal field, and almost instantly vanished. Aryan took a good look around, and slowly began to grin, a harsh, lopsided thing due to his new found infirmity. His troops were beginning to rout under the withering fire of the highly disciplined Warden opposition, but he did not care. Though he may have lost the battle, he had won the war. For all one need do, as the game goes, is take out the opponent's king....

The Anti Chronicles: Sho-rock

by Katherine of Sho-rock

...I immediately look in each of the audial library's that I am aware of and find only a cold, shy, demented girl of around twelve. Obviously my men take her in and dress and feed her, but they do not forget to bring along the tape to which she was listening. It is a copy of the scarlet letter. She reacts violently to any touch, even though she is treated with the utmost care. When she is brought to my castle she refuses to walk and is carried through the gates by a village boy. Apparently being scared of men, she is transferred to the care of the palace and to my maidens, the only time she seams to express joy is when they whisper to her; and the sound of wind in the rose garden lulls her to sleep. 

In the morning we awake to find her in that garden, here finger pressed unflinchingly into the longest thorn on a beautiful long stim yellow-tipped rose. A drop of blood trembles down her hand, and her lips twitch ever so slightly with her breath. The Sean is peaceful. I move silently to here side and move to itch her injured hand, when my own hand is inches away she turns her face to me, the face is hard and cold, not in the same way as a statue but in a way that shows that expression has retreated from the features as the mind became more expressive. I pause and then touch the bloody hand, she moves it then, to my face when with the mangled thumb pad she draws a strange check mark down my nose to the jaw and up towards my ear adding a smudge on top of my ear. The others around contemplate moving forward but are still; as are we. Both see the danger in the other. Mere moments later, we move, she to put her injured finger in her mouth and I to touch the design on my face. It is hard. Her blood is red and purple and hard like a mask, my expression is locked into some form that I dare not look at. I send the others away. This is my twin; when she stands up next even those retreating forums can feel the likeness between us even if they had not seen it before. 

She must leave, or we will both be destroyed; both holds power over the other, both counts the other as a threat. She has somehow come from her own detention and posed in mine for this moment when an action must be taken. We move apart, each to her own chamber. I do not bother to wash the chains from my face. The scarlet letter. In it is both blame and respect. I will where it. And I will send her her copy back. I know now what must be done for both of us. I am told that she immediately began the story again when it was returned to her, I couldn't know, I couldn't bring myself to watch. My engineers, magicians, they returned her to her own detention through the story; the story that locked us together and pulled us apart. 

She is gone forever now. The bloody symbol is gone also from my face, but the yellow rose remains, only now instead of a white rose tipped in yellow, it is a crimson, red one, tipped in gold.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The Anti Chronicles: Erronithia Part #1

by Joshua Loomis of Erronithia

The two kings sat across the table from one another. They need not speak, the bonds of space could not separate that which was both one yet two. Nay, they merely gazed, endlessly. Little did their entourage know of the war of thoughts being waged within. Slowly, the Erronithian sovreign rose from his seat. He nodded, and his entourage followed him out of the door. As they exited into his shuttle, he glanced back.

"This is not the end."

"No. of course not," smiled the alternate. "Nay, this is merely the begining."

The two nodded, and the Erronithian shuttle departed to Earth. It landed on the mass that once comprised Erron-vale, that which now was incarnated as Erronithia's most deadly weapon capable of being used planetside. Briskly, the king walked across the runway to the bunker entrance. Once inside, the EMP emmissions severed his link with his alternate. He knew he had only so much time, mere nanoseconds to make an attack. The map lay sprawled out, and he glanced over it. Air force, army, marines, space fleets, espionage, all had to come together in perfect synchronization on a mass attack. Neo Samosa was the target, but that was only the percieved target. Yes, the alternates knew and countered the oves and motives of their origins, but being themselves alternate they were not bound by that restriction. The plan was in place, the time for action had come.

Silently, the Falkyrie II glided through the stratosphere. Closing in on it where three Viper-class Aih'tinorre fighters, ready to shoot it down. The pilot knew his time had come, but he cared not. He knew that this was the price of a patriot. It was a price he payed willingly, knowing the cost of the alternatives at the hands of Kent. Three miles above Neo-samosa, the Falkyrie de-activated it's disruptive EMP shielding and launched five pods. Five Black Hand agents rocketed to the surface of Earth at MAch 3, crashing into the waves of Lake Eerie. Thuroughly disgruntled at the turn of events, the Vipers split to try and catch them. One vaporized the Falkyrie with its twin energy cannons, then followed the other two to circle above the ripples. For an hour, the vultures hovered. Little did they know that the Black Hand operatives had by now reached the shores of Neo Samosa via diving suits, and had begun constructing a porto-rift.

In Erronithia, the 15th Divison idled, standing by in parade formation. Kent watched from space, contemplating on launching a GAOBD to destroy it entirely. Suddenly, the whole Division disappeared. He paused, then it hit him.

"NEO SAMOSA, NOW!!" Shouted the warlord.

Immediately, the HUD brought up real-time imaging of the porto-rift. Through it poured the whole Division.

Kent's fist fell upon the top of a nearby table.

"Deploy the 92nd, fulll combat regalia at 2nd Protocol, NOW!"

The flagship boosted forward, coming into position above the island with all due speed. Immediately, the 92nd Aih'tinorre 92nd Orbital Marines deployed, fully armed and armored. Then, the unspeakable. From approximately five miles off the coast of Neo-samosa came the flashing shots of a high-precision defensive laser, the work of the Eon Antisamosans. One by one, the 92nd disappeared pod by pod in short bursts of fury. Kent spewed forth his rage in a violent stream of vitriol, before turning to the crew.


No sooner had he spoken than an ESF fleet dropped out of rift.

Kent stared at it, his eyes streaming hatred.

"The petty fool is reading me now... How he managed it I can't guess but by Jove it won't last," he mused.

Turning, he ordered the remaining Aih'tinorre fleets into position. From the Tibetan protal spewed forth the whole of Kent's fleet, the sheer size of which convinced the Erronithians to with-draw. Yet the damage was done, and a combined force of ELC and Anti-samosans held the beach-head of the island. A beachhead that Kent could only draw against, no matter what he threw at it. Indeed, as long as the Erronithians stayed there, he was caught. He growled, paced, and then cursed. Turning, he paced out of the bridge, wondring what his next move would be.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

The Anti Chronicles: Gondor Part #1

by Schylar Reed of Gondor

Location: Top secret Gondorian Bunker
Time: August 9, 1:14 AM

General "Faramir " wearily looks over the maps strewn over the table. He is the new commander of the Black Rifles, having been given the command only recently, and already, he had a greater problem before him than all the previous commanders before him had ever had. "How are we ever to defeat General Meir'boro when he merely copies our ever move?" he explodes. "I send troops to the fortifications in one place, and he does the same; I attack here, and he attacks at the same point, at the same time, with same amount of men! We even lose the same amount of men! It seems the only way we can get rid of this threat to the world is to kill ourselves and hope they do the same!"

Frustrated, the General leaves the dim room and heads to the surface to clear his head. Outside, he walks around, pacing back and forth, racking his brain for a solution. How do you defeat an enemy that mirrors your every move without first defeating yourself? There seemed to be no other solution to the problem other than killing themselves, or marching straight into the portal themselves and leading the White Rifles away from Gondor. He knew his men would not hesitate at either command, but it went against his nature to willing send his men to their deaths. No, he would only exercise those options as a last resort. There must be some other way to win without first losing.

He wished his brother was here. Though most Black Rifles severed all ties with family in order to serve, he and his brother couldn't do it. They had lost their parents when "Faramir" was just a baby, and his brother had cared for him his whole life. They had done everything together growing up, so when his impetuous brother joined the Black Rifles, he had signed up too. "How ironic," he thought, "that he would be known as General "Boromir" and go down in history as a valiant warrior, have his name forever immortalized, and be the last man ever to carry the title of "Boromir", and I should be his successor and be given the name "Faramir". Sometimes fate has an interesting way of doing things."

While he turned to head back into the bunker to see if any new transmissions had come in, he pondered on what his older brother would do. "Boromir" would have known exactly what should be done; he always had a grand plan. If only he could catch just a glimpse of one of those plans. As he strode past the sentries and through the hidden door, it came to him like a thunderbolt. Wheeling around in the doorway, he understood. "It would be just like this." he thought. All he would have to do is get them this far, and then get out of the way in time! But, he shuddered at the thought, the cost would be great. Very great. Yet, it must be done. Standing in the doorway, he now knew what to do. He sent one last glance at the sky before heading underground and sent a quick whisper of thanks. "Now," he thought, "it's my turn to save Gondor."

Next: Part II

The Anti Chronicles: Luminne

by Olivia of Luminne

Odalys stood watching the Schinaam soldiers hurrying all over. She shivered and hugged her parka closer around her as the wind gusted through the encampment.

"Come on," Odalys whispered, "Show yourself, you coward."

"You call me a coward?" Odalys jumped at the voice in her head. She stared into the distance, and her eyes caught sight of a darkening horizon.

"Captain!" Odalys yelled. The captain ran up to her almost instantly. "Its time. Ready the men."

"Yes ma'am." Odalys turned back to the horizon, hearing the flyers screech their battle cry. She turned away defiantly and went to her tent to suit up. Once she had on her armor (a special Schinaam creation. Able to withstand heavy blows, both laser and physical), she equipped herself with a pistol and a Schinaam spear.

"M'lady," the captain looked nervous, "Please, I beg you to reconsider-"

"Captain," Odalys looked at him sharply, "Do not question my actions. I would not do this if I had not thought long and hard about it. I am prepared for what is come." The captain bowed. Odalys left the tent without another word.

Within the hour Atis had come, her and her army. She looked almost exactly like Odalys, but with a face of pure evil. Odalys did not waste time locating her twin. The woman stood waiting for her, watching her every move as she approached. Their armies clashed around them. Atis had apparently created a barrier between them and their armies. No help would come today.

"You are a fool to face me," Atis snarled. Odalys watched her calmly, "You come to me with no one with you?"

"I don't need anyone this time," Odalys replied confidently, "I can take you down by myself."

"Such confidence," Atis scoffed, "It's not like you to act and speak so independently. Surely you don't think you can face me alone? Look around you! My army is your army's worst nightmare. My Narakraz Warriors will leave no one alive."

"Your warriors will die before they even lay a finger on my men," Odalys countered. Her lip curled into a malicious sneer, "And I will enjoy every minute of it." A flash of confusion flew across Atis's eyes.

"Where is the caring, loving woman I know, hmm?" Atis smiled, taking another approach, "She would not want to see innocent lives be hurt."

"Yes I would," Odalys nodded, "Oh, how I'd love to see that."

"What is wrong with you?!" Atis screeched, "You're behavior is entirely unacceptable!"

"Oh, don't even go there," Odalys walked around the perimeter of the barrier. She tapped it with her spear, and the weapon nearly flew out of her hand. "Impressive. So it keeps us in. What does it do to those who are out?" The spearhead emitted a rosy color. A nearby enemy soldier suddenly soared across the field and into the barrier, his scream was cut short as he disappeared.

Atis stared in shock. Odalys fingered the spearhead daintily. "So, that's what it does... Very nice."

"Of course you would use my own soldiers," Atis recovered herself, adjusting her maroon colored jacket. "You wouldn't dare use your own-" Atis cut herself off as a Schinaam soldier flew into the barrier and disappeared. "What are you doing?! You can't just kill your own men! Are you mad?!"

"Last time I checked, I had all my marbles," Odalys smiled sweetly. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this. How about a few more?" The captain flew overhead and into the barrier. Odalys laughed at the look of horror on Atis's face. "Surprised, sister?"

"No! This isn't how you behave!" Atis yelled. "You don't just-" Atis screamed as Odalys shot her in the shoulder with her laser pistol.

"Why not? It's so much fun," Odalys sneered, "The pain on their faces. Their agonized screams. I love it." Atis looked terrified.

"You're bluffing!" She shouted, "You're making it up!"

"Am I?" Odalys shot her again, "You have just witness three murders. Completely voluntary. I was not forced in any way. Not influenced. Do you think it's a bluff now?"

"No!" Atis screamed, clutching her head, "This isn't how it is to be! You can't-"

"I can do what I want," Odalys snarled, "I don't need anyone to tell me what to do." Atis screamed again. Odalys was drinking it all in. "I think it's time for us to part. You may leave."

"No! I will kill you!"

"Not if I do it first," Odalys slammed the butt of her spear into the rocky ground, and the barrier shattered. "You should really use something I don't know how to disable." Atis didn't seem to hear. She was clutching her head and staggering back. Odalys smiled gleefully. She gripped her twin's arm and yanked her to the ground.

"Sayonara," she whispered, "And don't come back!" Atis screamed. Her body looked as if it was being pulled into the sky. Atis's army were swept into the sky with their mistress, right into the cursed portal they had come from. The Schinaam whooped and cheered. Odalys sighed with relief, rubbing her eyes. The captain, perfectly whole and well, ran up to her.

"Queen," he said urgently, "We must get you to the palace."

"Very well," Odalys nodded, "Help me, if you would. I now realize how much I hate my twin. Having to act like her made me see how truly vile she is."

"You did splendidly," the captain encouraged, "The dummies you had built were perfect."

"All the same, I don't want to ever do that again."

Odalys was taken to her rooms. There, she changed into a casual dress and tried to recover. Even though they were dummies, the scientists had made them so life-like it still hurt, making them fly into the barrier. Shooting her twin wasn't as bad, but it still made her feel horrible.

"Odalys!" A male voice shouted, making her jump. A young man burst into her room.

"Thank you for knocking," she chided harshly.

"Apologies," the young man bowed. But he clearly didn't mean it. "What just happened?! You went to war?! Your ambassador is furious! I just barely manage to persuade him to remain at his station, but he made me come instead. What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking about was was best for my country!" Odalys rose to her feet. "Be careful how you speak to me, Zakar." The young man lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "May I ask how you did it? The soldiers aren't quite the most reliable source, and the captain won tell me anything."

"I'd be happy to," Odalys smiled, "My twin is, as you may know, my exact opposite. She hates me with all her being, and despises all I do.

"It took me a few nights to discover how I could be rid of her. I realized battling her would be of no use, because she and I are evenly matched. I realized, very late in the night, that there was one way I could win, without outright killing her.

"I realized that since she is my opposite, she adores all I hate. That includes pain. I don't like seeing others in pain. So, I thought, what would happen if I did? I had no idea how to go about this line of thought, so I brought in someone who is a professional with acting as different personalities from his own."

"A movie actor?" Zakar smiled, understanding.

"Yes, a movie actor," Odalys nodded, "I was able to hire the best. Over the past few days she helped train me to think, feel, and act as my twin does. It was by no means enjoyable, but I was sufficiently able to look and sound convincing."

"No offense, m'lady," Zakar said, trying not to smile, "But the thought of you in such a way is rather terrifying."

"I felt the same," Odalys smiled, "But I did it, somehow. When I faced my twin, I immersed myself in her ways. I led her to believe I voluntarily killed my soldiers. But they were only dummies. I behaved with all the cruelty she possessed. And in the end, it drove her mad."

"Why?" Zakar was totally absorbed in the story.

"Because it's not how I am," Odalys replied, "To her, I am not a killer. I prefer to care for others. When she saw me ruthlessly murdering, she didn't know how to respond. She couldn't like me. She hates every part of me, and she can't change it. I was starting to act as evil as she was, and she couldn't adjust. She is my evil twin. She can't become to good one. It didn't help when I behaved as if I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do."

"But, highness, you don't."

"True, but I can't always make educated decisions by myself. After that, she was completely immobilized," Odalys shrugged, "It was an easy matter to send her through the portal." Odalys went to her desk. "Now, if you would, please send me a messenger, I have correspondence to attend to."