Scott managed to recuperate slightly during Waldo's ridiculous showboating, but not enough to do more than rise to his knees. The light of the full moon held an incredible potential to help him regenerate, but enough damage had been done that the process was slowed greatly at the moment.

"No, I don't—" exclaimed Waldo before flashing out of existence and then reappearing a split second before he struck out with a downward axe kick to Scott's skull, "think so," finished Waldo.

The beast endured the blow, but dropped to the ground once more. Several more kicks rained down while Scott was stunned, but Waldo overstayed his welcome just long enough for the beast to lurch sideways and wrap his leg within the embrace of his powerful arms.

"Fuck!" snapped Waldo comically. He fell backwards and hit the ground hard, even as over seventy tons of bestial anger slowly clawed its way up toward his torso.

Waldo paused the world once more. As always, once all time stopped he was able to simply move through his opponent. It was one of the stranger features of the ability to stop time, to pause the world. He could interact with objects, but could not interact that readily with living things.

"This shitty bastard," snarled Waldo. "You thought you'd get me with that? Didn't you?"

He struck out at Scott once more, his fist sliding through the beast's flesh without making true contact. "Damned annoying..." he muttered. If he was able to keep this power he would ask Perival more about it, there were so many uses that he never considered before, and yet he could not even kill people with it directly!

A thought crossed his mind after he uselessly struck out at Scott's unmoving body a few more times in order to vent his frustration. "That so-called god has taken a while with his judgment. There can't be much time left..." mumbled Waldo.

He took a breath then said, "Need to stop playing around and finish this..."

The problem he faced was the same one that he had faced for quite some time now. The beast was just too damned strong. No matter how badly he beat it down, if he left it long enough the thing would regenerate. That much was proven when it tried to tackle him despite its injuries. "Cracked skull, broken ribs... but you just keep coming for me don't you, fucker?"

Waldo considered his dilemma for a moment. "Bastard regenerates almost as fast as a troll..."

He hopped up onto a building and began to scan the area for something useful. It did not take long to spy something that made him smile with feral glee. "How fitting..."

A short distance away sat a partially overturned truck with a large oval tank on the back. Emblazoned across the side of the tank were words such as 'Propane' and 'Caution: Highly Flammable'.

"Heh... Heh..." Waldo's eyes narrowed as he further recalled the major turning point in their first battle. "Surprise, motherfucker..."

He returned to normal time then proceeded to ruthlessly beat Scott in a rapid fire series of pause and strike maneuvers that battered him into what appeared to be a more docile form.

"Right then..." said Waldo as he appeared once more. He grabbed Scott by the horns then began to drag him down the street.

Several tense seconds passed before Scott fidgeted and began to weakly thrash. Strangely, a slight current of energy reminiscent of golden electricity skittered through his fur. Even after the brutal beating that he received at Waldo's hands, and his healing factor slowed a great deal, his regeneration was so obscene that his wounds had already begun to close over. The necromancer had taken too long already to make his plan a reality.

Waldo growled, but ignored the urge to pummel the man-beast once more. Time was running out, he could almost feel the truth of the matter. If he did not finish the big bastard off now, while he had total domination of the fight, there was no guarantee that he would be able to defeat the creature at all.

Nearly a full minute passed as Waldo manhandled Scott across the street. The strange golden energy continued to weakly skitter along the man-beast's fur but so far nothing significant had come of it. Waldo, however, was reaching the end of his patience. "Damn you're a heavy bastard!" he snarled.

"There has to be an easier wa—" he began once more, after he dragged Scott's bleeding body several more difficult steps. The mecha's eyes widened in shock as he realized something profound. "My mother was right. I am a fool!"

Waldo immediately stopped pulling Scott and paused the world. He rushed over to the propane tanker then experimentally tried to lift it into the air. It was heavy, too heavy to lift properly after exerting so much of his recharged soul energy by dragging the bleeding idiot so far, but not nearly as heavy as the alternative "You're not alive, are you?" said Waldo with a sneer before he started to drag the vehicle over to where the frozen body of his opponent lay waiting.

Once he was where he wanted it to be, he cracked the tank open with a few well-placed punches. He waited several seconds in anticipation, but the expected gush of propane did not flow forth. Annoyed, he tore into the tank only to discover that it was empty.

The mecha slapped its palm to its reptilian face then mimicked Waldo's frustrated sigh. "Why do those asshole gods hate me?"

He attempted to make due by dragging the truck atop Scott, but the body of the truck phased through the prone beast. "That could be interesting, actually..."

Waldo sought to re-enter normal time, but was met with a warning message. Moving an object inside of another object during a moment of temporal stasis was not allowed. Two objects could not be made to occupy the same space in that manner.

"Again with these stupid rules!" snapped Waldo, before he shoved the truck aside. "Fine. Let's do it the old fashioned way. It was more satisfying in the first place."

Scott knew nothing of what Waldo intended due to his own pain and confusion, however his fur began to slowly rise up from his body as the supposedly insignificant energetic discharge rose steadily in intensity. In the depths of his barely conscious mind, the stirrings of his last vestiges of inner-strength sought out that place within him where the soul of violence dwelled.

"Kill. Destroy. Conquer—" whispered a familiar voice, soon recognized as his voice, from the heart of his being.

The world began to slow for Scott, not because of Waldo's bullshit time manipulations, but because of something far more fundamental. As he sought ever inward toward the heart of his being, the current world became less important as he began to enter a dream-like state where sense of time moved at a far more rapid pace that normal reality.

His consciousness began to shift in its nature as well. It became more coherent, but lacked the emotion of the raging beast. A sensation of moving at great speed overtook his comprehension.

Images began to appear before his inward seeking eyes. Some were memories of his childhood, a time he spent primarily in seclusion. He counted few true friends among the billions of human beings who lived in the world due to a shy nature and a general lack of confidence in himself, time that many would have devoted to forming friendships was devoted to the worlds of fiction. A few of his current companions appeared within those images, pixelated renditions of their current natures as presented by videogame companies.

"Good Kitty," whispered his inner-voice as he saw himself defeat Pyron while using Felicia as his Darkstalkers character. Something about the cheerfully bouncy feline powerhouse resonated with his youthful teenage sensibilities. Although, another part of his psyche whispered darkly that his lonely teenage heart would always belong to Morrigan, the overtly sexy succubus who crushed men and souls. That part of him had issues, clearly.

Other memories appeared. "Samus is a girl?" he asked snidely as he read an Internet blog written by a self-professed gamer. "Damn right she is!"

Everyone knew she was a girl. That bit of trivia had been spoiled over a decade before he was born! He'd played all the games and loved most of them. People who claimed to be gamers and didn't know Samus was a girl were as bad as the people who mistook Link for being Zelda in the Legend of Zelda games! Worse, it was like not realizing Mario had a mustache.

Thoughts, dreams, ambitions, and failures... each of those things whirled through his consciousness as he saw how much time he spent in fictional worlds while growing up. Was it all that his life amounted to in the end? Was his existence nothing more than the end result of useless focus on escapist fantasy to hide the pain of his loneliness?

It is said that as a man dies, he will see his life flash before his eyes. Had Scott been truly in charge of his own mind and heart at that moment he might have thought himself to be dying. In a manner of speaking, he would be right. His body beaten beyond measure, even beyond his current ability to heal from his wounds at the true rate that they should heal, it would be easy to say that he now lay dying in the streets. However, there were things that refused to allow him to die. Chief among them was an insistent desire to live, and the foreign energies that surged inside of him which forced him to over-perform well beyond the true limits of his strength.

His consciousness passed beyond the realm of his earthly memories and a tunnel of light appeared before his inward seeking spiritual eyes. Some part of him expected to see a realm of death, of endless darkness, beyond that tunnel. That part was proven partially right when a bright light overtook him.

The light blinded him for the briefest of moments before a new image appeared. Space, not empty darkness but the great vastness of an ocean of stars and whirling galaxies appeared before him. However, he soon realized that he was not alone in that dark intergalactic sea.

A great shadow arose, like tremendous wings unfurling. The shadow blotted out many of the stars at first, but soon revealed itself in glorious high-definition as something far grander than a mere shadow. A great black dragon, a beast more massive that anything Scott ever witnessed in his life even if he included his current self, regarded him coolly with vibrant blue eyes.

"I am no longer the answer. The mirror has been turned, and my reflection is cast anew. I must seek elsewhere within myself," spoke the dragon in a surprisingly warm and masculine tone that held a quality similar to fine brass instrumentation.

A trio of similar voices arose from the darkness of space. Three stars, each of different hues such as red or blue twinkled in time to their voices.

"Ah, little brother has grown wise in his old age," spoke a golden star.

"He is not so little anymore, have you seen the size of him Luci-El?" asked the blue star.

"Do not tease him so, brothers. He will think himself hugely fat," replied the red star.

"Some might prefer him that way, due to their fetishes," replied the golden star.

"Speak no more of that, brother! It is a hurtful reminder of a different age, a different tale that the children have told! Our dear little brother is confused enough in his current state without learning such needless things unrelated to his current existence," replied the red star.

The great black dragon blinked both of his massive eyes. Slowly he raised up his fore claw, placed it to his impossibly large reptilian face, and then sighed slowly. "Eh..."

The impossibly large dragon's eyes shifted from sincerest blue to a vivid red color. They blazed brightly like the radiance of a hellish star. "I have been judged."

"It is time for me to remember a new truth," said the great beast in a booming voice after the moment of familial embarrassment passed. It stretched its wings, those great black curtains that could blot out the stars themselves.

Almost as an afterthought the dragon spoke once more, this time in a far softer voice that bespoke tenderness, "Also, I should be kinder to her. She has sought for me so long, and she is far more fragile than I realize or... currently remember."

Scott, or as much of his awareness as existed within this space, was in no condition to question those words. He was pure, emotionless logic. However, the word 'her' caused a stirring sensation within his psyche. It was an outpouring of desire that sought an answer to yet another riddle.

The dragon would not be questioned, however. With a magnificent flap of his wings Scott's consciousness catapulted backwards an incalculable distance, and continued to fly away. Despite that ever increasing distance he managed to hear one final exchange between the stars and the dragon, "Ah, Noct-El. Must you send yourself away so soon? We might have visited with you for a time and spoken of worldly things," spoke the radiant golden star.

A brief moment of silence passed before the black dragon retorted in a mildly sarcastic tone, "I want my own room."

"Ho, I bet you do," replied the golden star.

The dragon snorted derisively, an action that caused the blue star to speak. "Ah, Luci-El what perfect comedic timing."

"Of course it was, dear brother. It was I who said it," replied the golden star.

"Tch, so prideful," replied the red star.

"It's one of my many, many, gifts," admitted the golden star shamelessly.

Laughter echoed through the tunnel as the trio of stars and their ridiculously oversized dragon brother shared a warm, heartfelt, laugh between them. Scott, however, continued to be propelled backwards for a short time. He was sent back so far that his oldest memories flashed before his spiritual eyes. A man in a surgical mask look down at him briefly, before he began to move forward once more.

Once he entered the tunnel this time he felt a soft tug to what his normal mind might have called his left. His consciousness followed that pull and soon emerged in yet another scene after a bright flash of light.

Before his spiritual sight there unfurled the image of a beautiful flower garden. Several flowers caught his attention, a yellow rose most of all. A gentle breeze blew across the land in such a way that the flower almost seemed to wave toward him. A gentle greeting, as it were.

"Deeper," whispered the voice, "Push deeper..."

Scott immediately moved forward into that garden and soon went past its serene landscape. The light flashed again, this time bringing his consciousness to a barren rocky stretch of land overlooking a storm swept ocean.

Thunder clapped in the distance as waves crashed on shore. Great water spouts rose high in the air as the storm clouds tore at the open sea. However, Scott's consciousness ignore all of that. Instead he focused on a tiny shadow in the waves.

He zoomed in on the distant figure and realized that it was a primitive fish. A wave tossed the tiny barbaric looking fish out onto the land, and it flopped around briefly. Logic dictated that the fish would die, but a supremely bizarre event unfolded. The fish ceased its flopping. A moment later it stretched out its fins, pressed them against the ground, and pushed itself forward.

Scott bore witness to this strange fish as it slid forward an almost imperceptible amount of distance. Strangely, Scott soon began to sense some of what the fish thought, felt some of its inner strength.

The fish did not think in words, such things did not exist at this point. No, it thought solely in the realm of desire. However, were those desires to be translated into words they would be quite motivational.

"Not yet. I won't be beaten," thought the fish.

The little fish forced itself further onto the land. Its tiny mouth gasping with each powerful effort to continue on, it pressed ever onward toward the unknown future on land. "Forward! The sea is not enough."

A profound understanding awoke within Scott's consciousness. The fish faded away even as new images bombarded his mind. A blade of grass grew toward the sun, always straining to be more. A caterpillar gnawed at the leaf, it hungered and would do what it took to sate its need. The caterpillar became a moth that was devoured by a bird that wished to have the strength to go on living.

It continued ever onward as larger creatures devoured the smaller ones. Soon, however, size was not enough. The smarter creatures prevailed. These creatures stalked their prey or worked in packs and fought as a team. Yet, inside each of them was a gently glowing light of purest gold.

Within that golden light a sentiment similar to the fish could be sensed. "Not yet. I won't be beaten! Forward. Yesterday is not enough."

It was the light of life itself, the struggle made real. Everything that lived on the earth, from the tiniest virus to the mightiest blue whale, held that glow within them. They each were in tune with themselves, hunter or hunted, it did not matter. Each creature held its own special kind of strength.

Upon realizing that, Scott's consciousness became aware of a new creature. It bore a resemblance similar to that of a man, but the golden light within it was far more intense. The creature had a soft, fluffy, tail and the triangular ears of a beast. From its head there grew a pair of curved horns that gleamed gently in the light of day.

The beast man crossed his powerful arms over his chest and looked straight toward Scott. The expression that the beast man wore was one of supreme confidence. Strength radiated from the creature in such a way that all of the other beasts gave way and did not come near to him, though they ceased their struggles and moved forward to bear witness to his existence, and to bask in the aura of his radiant strength.

In that moment, Scott realized that the beast was none other than himself. A man, yet more than a man, nature itself paid heed to his potential.

For the briefest of moments, Scott's consciousness became coherent enough to question itself. "So calm. So confident. How can this be me?"

The beast man snorted then pointed a finger down at the grass. "I already know the truth. Now, I'm wasting time with useless cowardice."

Scott's spiritual vision snapped down toward the grass. What was so important about it? There was nothing different about the grass than anything else. It wanted to live, to grow and be strong. It held the same golden light as anything else.

It was then that he realized something. The golden light had to come from somewhere! More to the point, why was it golden? Why not some other color?

It was hard to remain coherent, to speak, but Scott needed to do so while he was here on his deepest known level of existence. This allegorical image that rose before his dying eyes, it bespoke a sacred and undeniable truth.

The fragile conscious mind of the man did not understand it, but the primitive beast inside knew the answer. Slowly, Scott's spiritual eyes rose up toward the sky and then finally they gazed upon the sun high above. There it was golden and resplendent, the original power that fueled all life.

The sun, it was the sun that gave energy to the plants. The animals fed upon that essential energy and grew strong. Other animals attacked the first creatures to take even more of that strength.

However, that was not all. His adopted race could only unleash their full bestial might under the light of a full moon. What was moonlight but the vain nocturnal reflection of the sun?

Sun light, the golden essence that was the source of all power in nature. It was how his race, the Ferakai, grew so powerful. They learned to harness the power in nature, of the sun's rays, as an internal source of power.

"I know what to do," said the true Ferakai version of Scott. "I've always known."

Knowledge, things his genetic memory knew that he himself had been unaware of until this moment began to awaken within his understanding. The moon triggered the change because the ancient Ferakai warriors knew that too much of the golden essence at once would destroy them. There was a limit to what the body could handle at once, it would rip itself apart if it tried to contain the full might of the sun without extreme physical prowess the likes of which no member of their race had achieved outside of myth and legend.

A control method, the moon and its phases were the perfect way for them to hone their skills. Thus did a diurnal race evolve into one that grew most powerful under the light of a full moon, the maximum safe amount of solar radiance that they could utilize without injuring themselves. They in turn became so dependent upon the moon that they could not transform at all during the day. They absorbed the light of the sun, stored it away each day until their soul became tense and hardened. They could store no more.

Under the light of the moon, their soul would relax. Their body would swell and grow until it achieved a form capable of withstanding a larger portion of their true strength. But a complete transformation required true acknowledgment of the fullness of the moon, and it never utilized all of the stored energy.

However, there was more to strength than sunlight and simple survival. The wolf protected its cubs. The ants protected their queen. The Ferakai... also protected those whom they loved. Feared and loathed throughout the universe, they would destroy countless civilizations if it meant protecting those whom they cared about. Even to the point of achieving their final glory, would a true Ferakai warrior fight. Nothing else mattered but strength, save for family and those whom they deemed worthy of protection.

Scott's consciousness became aware of what must be done. It hurled itself back toward reality, a single remaining coherent thought in evidence. There were two kinds of creature in existence. There was the strong, family and rivals. All other creatures were nothing more than meat.

Time began to move forward at an accelerated pace as Scott's deep mind and adrenaline evened out. No longer in the dream-like state where he hovered between life and death, his eyes fluttered open slightly. The rational, logical, Scott from before disappeared. Only scattered thoughts remained inside the howling maelstrom that was his mind, and even those were quickly consumed by the uncontrollable madness.

However, something had changed within him. Words entered the waking mind of the rage addled beast. They were calmly spoken. Authoritative. Final. They were not words spoken aloud, but within the depths of his innermost heart.

His prey laughed at him. The foolish meat thought itself superior. It brought pain, and toyed with his noble hunger.

"Kill," whispered the soft masculine voice. The golden electricity flickered a little as the great beast's eyes began to open.

Powerful blows rained down on Scott's unprotected body as Waldo went to work on him once more. The beast was beyond the point of caring about such a trivial concern. Only one thing was on his mind.

"Destroy," whispered the voice of Scott's innermost desire as it cut through his rage and spoke the inalienable truth residing with his heart.

Deep within the depths of the fallen Ferakai warrior stirred a sensation well beyond anything he experienced as a human being. Something broke within him. Neither his ribcage, nor his spine, it was his final mental limitation that broke away.

Even as an overly massive murderous man-beast there was previously a part of him that held back a portion of his strength. The creature never committed fully to every assault even when he thought that he was doing so. Even in his primal rage, he realized that doing so would be his end. The most primitive aspects of his nature acted instinctively to preserve his existence, and held back the absolute power hidden deep within his warrior's heart.

That desire for self-preservation was rent asunder as another kick slammed into his shoulder. The truth of life, of all existence when seen through the eyes of a Ferakai warrior, rose to the surface of his embattled mind.

There were two kinds of creatures that existed. Only two. There were the strong, those creatures who fought with everything they had within themselves in order to preserve what was theirs. Such creatures were noble, to be respected. Should he fall to such a creature, it was merely the ultimate truth of the limits of his strength. Someday it would happen. It was expected to happen, as all things that lived under the light of the sun would one day die. Life, to win and continue living, was best. But a warrior meeting his end after being pushed beyond all known limits was the desired final glory of all true Ferakai!

However, there was another kind of creature. A thing that existed for but a single purpose. They stank of weakness, even when they masked it with a show of force. The prey that attacked him, it only pretended to be strong. It stole the strength it wielded. It did not give rise to its own strength.

The golden current of power began to skitter and dance along his flesh with ever greater intensity as the primal truth buried in his heart became an overwhelming urge, a will that refused to be thwarted by the foolish thing that dared to attack him.

Waldo looked down at the golden lightning that skittered through the fur of the beast. His sensors were partially damaged, but there was no sign of any serious rise in the creature's power.

"Is all that for show? Maybe some sort of desperate attempt to heal himself?" asked Waldo rhetorically. Before he could say anything else, however, something absurdly fluffy caught his eye. Scott's tail had risen slightly and now fluttered gently in the breeze.

A half-sneer spread across the mecha's face in mimicry of Waldo's own expression. "First things, first..." he said with a snicker. The snicker turned into a delighted laugh as one of his internal diagnostics announced that his shield had managed to restart. The energy output was pathetic, and it would scarcely protect him from a single attack at most, but it was something.

Images of Scott's friends, companions, even of the people back at the small survivor's colony that he founded on this world, appeared within his mind for a brief instant. That instant was followed by the image of the Earth, and he knew it to be his Earth, and then of the billions of people who lived upon it, people who would be destroyed just like those of this world were destroyed.

Family, the strong whom should be protected. That was the first type of creature, the most important life of all.

The golden light skittering along Scott's fur intensified its radiance, suddenly his eyes snapped open even as that same golden glow began to shine forth from their depths.

Waldo was caught off guard by the quick change, and stopped just short of gripping Scott's tail. "What are these reading—" began the villain, but was suddenly cut off by a flare of golden light.

It took him a fraction of a second to pause the world, but in that span of time a dozen warning alarms went off inside his cockpit. "What? What is this!" snapped Waldo in shock. He crashed to the ground and slipped away from the hellish sight hovering before him.

His mecha's left arm was simply gone, along with part of his leg, but that did not concern him nearly as much as what he saw now. The gargantuan beast somehow managed to disappear from the ground and reappear in the sky above.

Waldo stared slack jawed as he noted that the rooftops of several buildings were simply gone, disintegrated by a wave of golden power that had collided with them.

"Solar Radiation?" he asked in surprise as he checked his alerts. "No, it's similar, but it's supernatural..."

"No!" cried out Waldo in a high-pitched voice as he realized what must be happening.

"Impossible!" he shrieked once more.

Missing an arm and part of a leg, the necromancer rolled over and did his best to get away from the absurd display of power. He tried to stand but found it too difficult to walk. In desperation, he knocked over a light pole and shoved the remainder under his mecha's armpit.

Using the tall utility pole as a makeshift crutch, he hobbled away as fast as his one good leg would take him. All along the way he laugh in a bizarre manner that almost sounded like he was also crying.

"You call this fair? This? This is the thing you asshole gods sent to stop me?" asked the terrified necromancer as he did his best to get out of the immediate blast radius of the attack that he knew would be coming. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he had studied such things off-world while acquiring parts and knowledge to make his giant zombie mecha. While the result would not be exactly like what he had studied, it would be close enough that simply being close to the center of the blast radius would mean total annihilation in his weakened state.

"You hateful bastards! My shield wouldn't save me at the center of that! Not even at full power!" cried Waldo as he rapidly hobbled his way toward possible survival.

Several long, desperate, minutes passed as he did his best to put distance between himself and the insane beast that sought to destroy everything in sight.

[Warning]

The judgment regarding your inappropriate access to an administrative control sigil has been decided. Your contract with Perival the Betrayer is deemed illegitimate according to the ancient bylaws of the divine network.

Paperwork to that effect must be finalized. While said paperwork is finalized, you will be granted approximately three minutes to cease usage of the sigil, before its usage will be ended summarily via administrative control.

~ Emeritus Hellborne

[--]

"You bastards!" shrieked Waldo hysterically. "Faster, gotta move faster!"

Thinking quickly, Waldo rammed his partially amputated leg into the top of a nearby heavy transport truck and pushed forward. His eyes widened slightly when it moved easily. "It's not in park!" he cried triumphantly.

Using the transport truck as a makeshift roller skate, Waldo hopped forward as quickly as he could while clearing far more distance than he would have managed with a crutch alone. It might only work properly when traveling in a straight line, but he was on a main road through town. Several miles of straight roadway stretched before him.

If he did not escape the center of the blast radius, and even move a good distance beyond that, he would be torn completely apart. Nothing else entered his mind at that point other than his heartfelt desire to flee at all possible speed.

In the background, high overhead, there floated the incredible image of a megalithic man-beast his head thrown back in the midst of releasing the most powerful roar in the history of this world. Radiating a golden energy that did not match the power of the sun in any way, but easily matched its luminous intensity, one could easily be forgiven for mistaking him to be an unparalleled god of destruction using the light of day to lay waste to the lawless nightmares that haunted the dark.

That fateful image was a thing of hope and mind-numbing terror emblazoned across the trembling night sky of a benighted world that had been sent screaming into the depths of a black and hateful existence. It was the outcry of a Ferakai warrior who sought his final glory. Yet, the full moon in its simpler, immanently serene, glory continued to shine gently down upon him all the same.