10They feared him! He had power. He had control over them, control of those who had thought themselves the controllers. After he had the control, he had felt no more. He hadn't felt anything, just had returned to the city he imagined as his mind, to repair the safeguards that had been torn down by an unknown force, comfort the people, and rebuild the army.
"I knew they were out there! I knew I had reason to make walls against them. So there," he shouted!
"Yes. You were right. We were out there."
"Who are you?" he demanded indignantly. He had enough power on his own turf to say anything to anyone and not be afraid of them.
"The better question is, who are YOU? You don't remember, do you."
"Remember, remember... What is to remember? Ah, yes. To think back. I remember. Well. They feared me, the bullies. They backed away, and looked at me in horror, after seeing what I did to their leader, what I could do so simply. And I laughed, maniacally, (I suppose I was drunk with power,) and smiled, as the tables turned. And then I fled to here, as I felt my shields being ripped down. Back to my city, where you have no right to be in. Do you wish for me to put up the wall that kills outsiders? T' would be simple, and you'd be dead."
The intruder ignored that last bit, and asked impudently, "Do you remember your name, or anything before that happened?"
"Um... no," he admitted.
"Would you like your name?"
"Yes." He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that he couldn't have full control of his city again, without his name.
"Pierre Lonzere."and all of the memories came flooding back to Pierre, of his father, his cousins, and Sandy. And in the city, under the lights of the night, he laughed. And a star shot over the city, illuminating it. Not a flaming meteorite, but a bleeding star, pulled down from the heavens. And he remembered his "friends" in kindergarten, who had betrayed him, each one of them turning against him and themselves beating him up. And when Jacques came, the last of them turned to his side, siding with the enemy, and beating him up. And he remembered his first encounter with Jacques, and wept, and the city wept too, raining ferociously.
"I remember," he said, wiping his imagined eyes with an imagined handkerchief.
"Good," she remarked.
"What is your name?" Pierre called, in wonder, and awe, as the person who had broken into his city "walked" away.
"I cannot tell you my real name, but I can tell you my nickname. Infilt."
"How did you get in, Infilt?"
"That's my specialty." he felt the Infilt grin, "I know of all different ways to get into others' lands, and generally, how to get out."
"I wish to test my power. Get out of mine, and get back in, when I give the signal. There'll be a sign." Infilt left, and Pierre prepared, excited.
Infilt looked in, and saw that the glass walls of the city, shaped like a hemisphere, were covered in storm clouds, a sure sign of anger. Good. He's learning. The top of the hemisphere was strengthened, and she felt a little rumble beneath her feet. In the storm clouds, she even saw a little bit of lightning jumping back and forth. So his land is definitely limited to the laws of earth, as of yet. Then, as promised, there was a sign, "Turn back now, or face terrible consequences" and that sign shook her to the soul. Pierre was already mixing his magics. Excellent. This should be a spot of fun. Infilt waited for three hours, attempting to throw him off guard when she got there. She quickly used a modified spell of transformation, transforming her into a giant, all purpose machine, a bit like a Swiss army knife with a brain, and dug under ground, to the other weakest part of the shield, if it even extended that far. It didn't. She just kept on moving straight, until he reached 1000 feet below the middle of the city, and then dug directly up, up to the city, when he abruptly encountered an unexpected air pocket. And a million humans. Shit. He's good. She thought "So mote it be", and transformed back to her human state, summoning a staff of burning.
"INTERESTING CHOICE OF YOUR WEAPON, BUT YOUR ASS IS MINE, FOOL."
A youth descended the stairs to the boot camp, which is what this "air pocket" was, and summoned a similar staff, only much more powerful, and of the opposite side of magic- water. "You'll pay for slaughtering my four brothers, you bastard," he called, before he started hurling ice and steam at Infilt. Very, very impressed. Infilt wasted no time in creating multiple doppelgangers, and praying to her patron god, Loki, of trickery. Every single thing the youth had thrown at her missed, and Infilt rematerialized, smiling. "Amateur." was all she heard, but she felt the blows of a thousand ensorceled swords, and the hits of a million enchanted arrows.
When she awoke, she was inside a small globe, derobed, and beaten. "You didn't tell me that you had killed them."
"Who?" she asked sleepily, still worn out from the beating.
"Our brothers. They were my few friends, and much more powerful than you."
"The gate guards?"
"Creating the gate drained almost all of their power. They could have been beaten by a militia man. You killed them when you came in."
"Why don't you make more?"
"You don't understand. They had souls." Pierre stepped into the light, and he didn't look happy. He looked like he had been crying.
"Souls...?"
"Yes. I created their souls, shaping them in my free time, and used them to help protect me. I had four extensions of the city, which were vaporized with the walls, and they were the guardians of those."
"That's impossible."
"Bullshit. I did it, and you killed them. They'll be scarred by that after I make them new bodies."
"I'm so sorry..."
"You had better be. Storm think we should let the militia men play with you. They loved my brothers as much as I did, even if they didn't have souls. It isn't all fun and games in Metropolis. I would like that, and it would be a fitting punishment, but I'll just leave you in there while I sort out my affairs.