After the fall of the Council, Sanctuary found itself in a new era. A revolution led by a young and inexperienced leader changed their lives, and people could only hope for the better. Historically, regimes rise and fall. Some had hoped the Council were the solution to that problem, while others clung to the young revolutionary. Despite his shortcomings, and despite his failures, life continued. Mankind – as it always has – continued to place their hope in flawed people. In the end, every society must experience its life, death, and rebirth before inevitably being lost in history. Such is the cycle, and such was their fate – Anonymous, 2021 Anno Imperi Ortu

Dante Amar tries to look intimidating as he slowly walks toward me, but I can’t help but laugh. This fight is already over, but he simply can’t accept defeat. While it is an admirable trait, it’s also bothersome.

Trying to bring a quick end to the charade, I send a quick blast of energy at him. He covers his face, but the bone in his arm shatters audible. Unable to feel pain – at least according to the stories – he continues to walk forward. His arm mends itself into its proper position and he drops it back to his side.

Releasing another blast of energy, I target his knees this time. Dante either doesn’t bother to dodge or can’t tell that he’s being attacked. The energy shatters both of his knees and he falls to the ground, catching himself on his palms. Dante drops his head as he lands, but he quickly lifts his eyes to stare at me defiantly.

I can practically feel the strange creaking in his bones as the pieces fall back into place. The audible scraping is sickening. I have to stop his healing, and I’m not sure how I can do that. Slowly, he rises to his feet and continues walking.

Changing tactics, I control the energy around his head. Pushing in either direction, I turn his neck around one-hundred and eighty degrees. Dante continues walking, turning his head back to normal. I picture energy squeezing his heart, preventing it from beating. Forcing a heart attack, I watch as Dante slows and finally falls to his knees. He drops to the ground, his nose colliding with the grass beneath him.

I release Dante from my hold, allowing myself to feel cautiously victorious. Deathless must be a title pertaining to functional immortality and his healing factor, but I’ve sufficiently ended his life. Nonetheless, his heart starts beating again. With a gasp, Dante opens his eyes and pushes his hands into the ground. Rising, he once again continues his forward march.

Baffled, I am almost convinced to stop my attack. Everything seems hopeless. If I can’t kill him – he can simply outlast me. There has to be something I can do. I’m not ready to surrender quite yet. I have had a taste of power, and I don’t want to give it back to Dante. I don’t want to lose it.

The head. His brain must be the source of his power. I send a powerful blast of energy like a bullet through his head. Once again, Dante falls forward, colliding with the ground. The hole through his head slowly begins to close. As soon as his body restores functionality, Dante rises to his feet again.

I know I can keep killing him. In fact, with the minimal energy consumption of each attack, I think I could do this indefinitely. However, the longer he keeps me here, the more people die outside of these walls. I don’t understand how he doesn’t realize that. If he cared about his people, he would want this fight to be over.

Dante continues walking, now halfway across the field to me. I have to assume he has a weapon, so I don’t want him to get too close. Stopping him in his tracks, I pull him into the air. I don’t want to be unnecessarily violent, but I have to do whatever it takes to kill him. It’s time to end this war.

I pull at his left arm, but he doesn’t even flinch. Even as the skin starts tearing, he shows no pain. The legends are true. That’s fine – my goal isn’t to hurt him. It’s simply to stop him. Finally, muscle rips and bones fracture. Severing the arm, I drop it to the ground. If I can’t kill him, I’ll disassemble him and scatter his body. It’s gory, and it isn’t the first thing I’d want to do, but it will serve my purpose.

Before my eyes, the broken pieces of Dante’s arm begin to grow. I can practically see cells replicating as his skeleton replaces the missing arm. In surprise, I release my telekinetic hold on him. Dante falls and catches himself with the exposed bone of his left hand. As he continues to walk toward me, muscle wraps around the skeleton.

“How is this possible?” I stammer.

“We never figured that out,” Dante admits.

Killing him isn’t an option. Fine, I’ll just banish him. No, his people will never look to me as their leader if he’s still alive. They will either follow him and pose a potential threat later or they’ll simply cause dissention in my ranks. I can’t bring true change while there’s still a figure of the old way. Maybe I can bury him alive. His power will keep him alive, but he will never escape. Then, though, if someone finds him I fall into the same problem.

I know what I have to do. If I can’t kill Dante Amar, I have to kill his spirit. I’ll show him what’s happening to his soldiers. When the war is over, I’ll kill his men one by one in front of him until he accepts defeat. When he grovels and begs for mercy in front of his followers, his credibility will be destroyed. Once again, the Council is forcing more violence than necessary.

Dante breaks into a run, so I launch him to the side. He rolls a few times before skidding to a stop. Again he races forward and again I push him to the side. I’m not sure if he’s simply trying to outlast me, but he has no chance. Slowly, I start backing away and leading him outside. I could easily simply drag him along, but I want to watch the fighting spirit fade from him. He needs to know that he’s been completely and utterly defeated.

Dante races forward again. This time, I allow him to get close. He throws a punch, but it collides with my telekinetic barrier and doesn’t faze me. He tries a few dozen more, but only succeeds in wearing himself out. Each of his knuckles is bloody and scraped, but he continues to try to punch at my barrier. Finally, I catch his fist and look at him with disdain.

“When will you accept defeat?” I spit.

“I think you’re well aware of the answer to that,” he retorts. I crush Dante’s hand, but he doesn’t flinch.

“You’re a fool, Dante Amar,” I scowl, bringing my face closer to his. Defiance still illuminates his eyes, but I know it will fade. Suddenly, I feel a small prick in my thigh.

Surprised, I stagger backward and look down. Dante drops a syringe to the ground and admires the empty barrel. A mixture of shock and relief fills his face. I let him stab me. In my rage and my desire to make him feel small, I let him deceive me. The medicine works quickly, and I can already feel myself growing dizzy. I feel weaker as it spreads through my leg.

“It’s over, Carson,” Dante pants.

“You’re right,” I sigh, looking down at my leg. It’s over. Dante has lost. He’s given me the only weapon I can use against him. I focus on the medicine in my bloodstream, hoping I can replicate what happened last time. Since I can’t take any risks, I pull out most of the blood from my leg. Stopping when I feel that I’m about to faint, I lift my blood into the air and circle it above me. I still feel like the medicine is spreading.

In a desperate attempt, I start draining Dante’s blood through his pores. Though I know it’s not the safest way to perform a transfusion, I fill my veins with his blood. And filter out the infected blood in my body. Then, I redirect my blood into Dante’s body.

I watch as he gets dizzy, barely able to stand. Finally, he collapses to his knees and looks at his hands. Rubbing his palm, Dante looks at them with utter confusion. Using my telekinesis, I slash a blade of air across his arm. Recoiling, Dante covers the wound with his other hand.

“Interesting,” I laugh. Scowling, Dante rises to his feet, but my smirk doesn’t falter. “Tell me, Deathless: How does it feel to hurt?”

“If you kill me, someone more powerful will rise to take my place,” he replies threateningly.

“I already have.”

Displaying his senseless defiance, Dante rises with an uppercut. I don’t bother to deflect his attack with telekinesis. Instead, I weave backward, enjoying taunting him. He follows up with a punch which I’m not able to dodge, so I block it with a barrier. He tries to punch me again, but I send a blast of energy to his stomach. Dante stumbles backward, catches himself, and recovers the ground.

Leading with a hook, Dante tries to bring my attention to my face. When blocking is an absent-minded task, it’s easy to see his true intentions, so I don’t react to the hook. Instead, I deflect the punch headed for my stomach. Managing to surprise me, Dante shifts focus to follow through with the hook and hits my jaw. I stumble to the side and rub my jaw.

“I’m impressed,” I admit. “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that much. Just surrender, Dante. Perhaps I’ll show mercy.”

“I will not lose to you.”

“You’re Powerless, Dante,” I tell him. He steps forward, but I’m getting fed up with this fight. I push him back and he falls to the ground. He struggles to get up, but I push him back down. As the breath flees from his lungs, Dante’s head falls back. I lift him into the air hold him in front of me.

“My ability was never my power,” Dante coughs. I punch his stomach, but hold him in place so he doesn’t move. I attack three more times, all to the same spot. Finally, Dante starts coughing up blood.

“Surrender,” I order. “Call your people off, and I’ll let you live the rest of your days in prison.”

“I will not. We will rise above this,” Dante spits.

“You have nothing left!” I yell. I punch his face, once on the left and again on the right. Anger floods over within me, so I punch him a few more times. Dante’s head starts to drop, so I stop attacking and allow him to fall to the ground.

Maybe it’s my pride, but I want to hear him admit it. I need to hear him admit that I’ve won. I deserve that.

“If you let rage rule you, you will always be Powerless,” Dante coughs. Angered by his comment, I slam his face into the ground. He can barely keep his eyes open, but I slap him with my hand to keep him awake. I want to feel contact as I attack him, so I don’t use my telekinesis.

“I’m powerless?” I scoff. “Me? Look at you!”

“You still don’t understand, Carson. I will not surrender. I will not tell them to back down. They need something to believe in if they ever hope to overcome villains like you. I can’t take away their symbol. I won’t. Even if it kills me, I will stand for my people.”

“You’re not a leader. You’re a broken man,” I scowl.

“We’re all broken men, but as long as I stand for them – as long as I live in their hearts – I will be Deathless.”

I want to argue with him, but he’s right. As long as they have their faith in him, he will hold a certain power over me. If that’s the case, I have to kill their belief in Dante Amar. Silently, I turn and walk toward the door. Telekinetically, I drag Dante behind me.

I work my way through the courtyard and through the entryway of city hall. With a massive telekinetic blast, I push open the ornate door and push the rubble aside. Dropping Dante in the rubble, I look out over the scene before me.

There aren’t many people still fighting, but those who are freeze when they see the gigantic doors open. Slowly, I step forward. Turning around, I look up at the door and pull the sigil of the Deathless from it. Holding it high above my hand, I tighten my grasp and break it.

The rubble starts flying around me and I hold it above me, symbolically rebuilding the roof of city hall. I create one pillar in the center and carve my own sigil. I’m not sure if the pieces of rubble will stay together, but I can build something more permanent after I’ve made my point.

“The war is over,” I yell. “Drop your weapons.”

Every eye turns toward me. A sea of emotion paints their expressions – from worry to hope, fear to joy, and concern to pride. Without another word, I drag Dante out of the building and hold his crippled body up for everyone to see.

“This is your leader. This is the Deathless – Dante Amar. He has failed you. He has lied to you. has controlled your lives. His lust for power has driven us to this point, and it’s cost countless lives. Now, he is fallen.”

Stepping forward, I launch Dante across the courtyard. He flies over his remaining soldiers, granting them all an intimate look at his defeated body. Dante collides with his pretentious statue in the middle of courtyard and it cracks with the impact. As he lands on the ground, pieces of the statue follow, crushing what little life remained in him.

Every enemy drops their weapons in defeat. Many fall to their knees, all hope fleeing from their eyes. My army cheers. We’ve lost men – but we have won. I have won. Now, this city is mine to rule as I see fit. I will not be weak like Dante. Addressing all of my subjects as one, I feel the urge to make a speech. Maybe some things are best punctuated with few words, though.

Right now, my army doesn’t need inspiring. The enemy doesn’t need to be reminded they’ve lost, and they won’t be receptive to my offers of redemption quite yet. For now, I think it’s best to keep things short and allow everyone to process their emotions. Everyone will come to terms with the regime change in their own way. For now, two sentences should suffice.

“The Council is dead. Long live the king.”