White Silence [Zell]

"No problem." Silus said with a smile, more than happy to assist his older brother. Jordan just seemed to sit there before leaning back and commenting about the excitement of the day. It wasn't much to go off of, but Silus could tell he was heavily in thought. He looked to Matt, not recognizing him for a moment before he cocked his head to the side like a lost puppy and even gave a little noise to match it.

 "We should be on the move. Now, the boys in blue won't like this." He said to Zell before looking to Jordan. "Glad to see ya made it out, kid." He added to Jordan, though his voice modifier was likely enough to keep him more than concealed. With that comment he took his leave, Archon sighing and shaking his head, his new, longer than normal hair was something Silus wasn't used to, especially with how much his "daddy" got on his case about having long hair. What a family of hypocrisy. Silus closed his eyes and he vanished, leaving Archon with Jordan.

  "Alright son. Let's go home." He said, more of an offer than anything as he stuck his hand out to Jordan, offering a way if he wanted it.

*******

 "Watch your tongue, you miserable little mutt." Samhain snarled before reaching into Hyperion's chest and clenching down at the core of his energy. Of all the smiles, tomfoolery and general passive nature that Samhain displayed... he apparently had none of this for Hyperion. "You are not Sin's attack dog any longer. You. Are. MINE! When I say jump the only thing I'd better hear is the question "How High?" Because I swear on your sick, twisted, soul that if I hear ANYTHING else I will personallly ensure every part of you suffers a fate far worse than anything your feeble mind can comprehend!" He hissed, anger quite visible in every word as he practically spat venom through an enraged voice that almost seemed to wash out his accent. Releasing Hyperion's core, he looked to Zakaken whom nodded... the world around them began to shift and they now stood as the lone survivors over the ruins of what was the power plant.

"There's a hatch under this rubble here." Zakaken said before turning to Samhain, whose voice commanded in a tone that was far less than friendly.

"Then it's a good thing we brought the dog. Now dig." He said, quite obviously not on friendly terms with either of them for this matter. However they had no choice. However Hyperion wished to dispose of the rocks was up to him, but by the end of this all there would be an exposed hatch, and avery impatient Samhain with his cane before him, leaning on it. With the rubble cleared Samhain stepped through the door, proving that he didn't actually need the rubble cleared, however it probably made things easier on Zakaken...as if he cared about that. The dark tunnel had a few lights on, the hum of agenerator was off in the distance. As they continued to walk the concrete walls turned to wallpaper, and the hard floors became padded with a royal red carpet. The flickering lights turned to fixed, fine decor that had a very specific and whimsicle taste about it. Samhain's irked frown curled a little as he steped forward down the long hallway, forcing Hyperion and Zakaken both in tow. Eventually they saw a threshold of mahogony, the single light within the room was a lamp with a green glass cover, a mounted, over-head desk lamp over a small makeshift wooden desk of rotted wood and poor craftsmanship. This room he sat in was as real as it got. No wallpaper, no whimsical lights or carpeting. Just cold hard concrete. The figure was dressed in a beige jacket of some kind. Samhain knocked on the threshold, leaning on his cane still as he seemed to slouch.

 "Well now... THIS makes morse sense. I knew Sin wouldn't have the power to make a separate body...not yet. They didn't have the power to destroy the Archon either...but they seemed to do it anyway...now I wonder why YOU of all people would do that..." He chuckled, the figure seemed to still be sitting at the desk, arms on it while moving slightly as they seemed to work intently. "That's right, you'll have to do more than throw your hair up in a mess to elude me Author...or should I call you by your name at this point?" He asked. Of course the work halted at the presence of the question. When the person turned around it revealed a book on the table and a pen in his hand. reaching up the man ran his hand through his tossed up and tousled hair before pulling it all down to it's perfect mop of a mess and his eyes opened to reveal odd colored spheres and the brown hair revealed to be left much longer than anticipated. Of course the Author was exactly who Samahin thought it was.

"Because it makes for a better story." He said with a smile playing at his face, though Samhain stepped forward, Zakaken was left with his moth slightly agape in disbelief.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Zakaken said, entirely unable to believe what he witnessed.

"That was very dangerous...you could have killed- well... I supposed it's technically you." Samhain chuckled as he tried to phrase things properly. The Author just smiled and cocked an eyebrow as if asking Samhain if he ever doubted him. "Yeah, yeah. I know. If you're not killing yourself it's not a good story." He sighed, resigning that they had very opposing beliefs. Before turning to Zakaken and Hyperion he gave them both a little glare with a snide smile.

 "Gentlemen. This is the Author, the only reason either of you are still alive...despite a certain failure's best efforts...which I am still disappointed in." Samhain said, muttering the part about a failure disappointing him as an obvious remark about Hyperion. "If Silus is the enemy whose been the bane of all of us...imagine what we could do if he were one of us? True enough, Silus is never, truly evil...but there are certain Silus'....Silus', Silai?- well whatever the case... The Silus of our dimension may be against us...but this one- This Author... they are with us, and they are the one you owe your pathetic lives to. So if I were you I'd start thanking him...I personally wouldn't have wasted time on either of you."

 "Well a story is only as good as its villains." The author said, defending them ever so slightly. Samhain sighed and agreed before looking to the Author and bringing his arm up, slowly waving it over him, causing the Author to vanish, likely to relocate somewhere, this left Samhain alone with Hyperion and Zakaken.

 "I'm going to win...and no matter how much I hate you, I am a being of honor. Even if you are bound to me, I give you a choice. Join with me...and receive the world you've always wanted, where power is only as finite as your imagination, where we...the ones labeled "villains" will triumph against the heroes." Samhain said before looking form Zakaken to Hyperion, his offer genuine, and his honesty of disliking them even moreso. "I will win. With or without you...but I owe it to you...to both of you, in some small manner you may not even remember....but I owe it to both of you to offer a place in this plan for you... or you could refuse and I'll force you to work for me anyway...So I suppose what I'm really asking is this..." He said before clearing his throat, realigning his cane to the center as he stood, proud and refined.

 "Are you my partner, or my peon?"

Jordan sighed, wanting to do nothing more than relax for the day. Even if he had a feeling Hyperion would come back for him, for now was a time for rest. Well there was that, and wondering who the man in the mask was. Something about them was strange but then again that was all people with their masks. Within a few moments they were gone and Silus with them, leaving him with Archon. The idea of home, well it sounded great right now considering the day and everything lost. Accepting the hand stretched out towards him, Jordan nodded. ”Home sounds great.”

–-

It appeared that any sort of levity was lost upon Samhain, or so Hyperion could tell from the moment that they tore into his chest and gripped onto his core. So it seemed that he was dealing with an even more boring task master, and an annoying one at that. The venom they spat, well it suggested something, perhaps a hared towards him but what could they possibly hate him for? Unless they had some stake within The Abyss or cared about the pointless human lives that he had ended on occasion, most of which were arguably evil. There had to be some reason of such vitriol being spewed in his direction and yet he could not tell what the reason for that was. Rather than doing the usual response, he kept a cool exterior to avoid revealing anything he may have been thinking. Especially when the male had been able to reach so easily into his core.

He would be their dog for now, but they would in time find that a dog tended to bite back. Patting off a bit of dust, he flexed the energy limb while debating how he would deal with that, which seemed to be the most pressing issue around. Being in this condition, well that was just not something he really relished doing, but then again that did come with fighting Jordan. It appeared that his so called good half was stronger than he thought, but then again that did not mean he made it out with the little brat and them being dead would have been no problem for him. Next for whatever reason they wanted the battle tired ethereal to do all of the work, and so he would do that. Lifting chinks of debris out of the way with only a slight strain, pleased that just physical effort didn't tire him out this much.

Upon uncovering a hatch, they would walk down the rather bare looking hallway dimply lit by a few sources of light. Not that he had much of a choice within entering, as he had a feeling Samhain would just kill him if he didn't go. Always someone having a problem with him, but that was just their problems, unless they made them his. What they found was an interesting sight if nothing else, an individual called The Author but another name came to mind. Those eyes, well they were distinctive enough to give him an idea as to who that was. Focusing upon where his arm once was, he imagined and so it began to form, flesh and blood rather than just pure energy. Despite the amount of effort he was pleased with something that could actually feel.

I swear if I have to hear this fucker say one more thing about my pathetic life, I will kill myself. Hyperion kept that thought to himself, even holding back on the eye rolling that wanted to come along with it. Body language could give him away and so he stayed silent. Within a moment this author person was gone, and they were left alone. Not a great prospect but then again not as if he had any other choice. His mind ran over multiple scenarios of him ripping those smug eyes from him, or maybe shattering the bum leg before them disemboweling them with their own cane. So many lovely options, but all he did was stand there passive.

”Well I do love the illusion of choice.” Hyperion noted, not quite sounding as snarky as he normally would. ”I'll work with you.” Not that the choice was his in the end.