t’s time,” grunted the burly, yet remarkably handsome jailer. The jailer’s complexion was smooth and glowing, his facial features chiseled to perfection, perhaps through extensive
surgery. His appearance was a direct contrast to the horrible dungeon he watched over. He pounded his fist against the wall, the dull sound echoing. “Wake up, runt!”
Darek was roused from his artificially induced slumber. He opened his eyes, blinking. “Where am I?” Darek found himself lying on the concrete floor of a filthy jail. Trapped within these impenetrable stonewalls, Darek couldn’t tell whether it was morning or night, for there were no windows. However, the prison was stunningly bright because of the radiant fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. The brilliant lights were perhaps a method of subtle torture by keeping prisoners awake for hours on end.
Darek’s thoughts were a mess. What did I do to deserve this? Can I wake up from this nightmare? Is there any hope left for me? All he had were questions that could not be answered. He curled up, wishing he wasn’t there—wishing it was just a bad dream.
“Hurry up!” The jailer grew evermore impatient and smashed his fist against the walls harder, such that it displaced several concrete blocks. “You’re wasting my time.” His right eye twitched unnervingly as he observed Darek’s sluggish behavior. Then he muttered scornfully under his breath, “You aren’t the only one getting executed today.” Sweat dripped off the jailer’s arms as he fumbled for the keys along his muscular waist. He unlocked the cell, entered and stood over Darek. Darek closed his eyes and uttered a few simple prayers. The jailer picked Darek up by the back of his shirt, dragged him across the cell and handed him off to the Federation soldiers who were waiting by the door. “He’s all yours.”
Two tall soldiers grabbed Darek by the arms and carried him down the corridor. Darek panted as he was taken through the dreadful passageways of the dungeon. Screams and pleas for help resounded vividly up and down the halls. Innocent, weak hands reached out from their cells hoping to touch the shadow of Darek, while nefarious inmates, disgusted by the sight of him, spit at his feet.
Darek looked up at the clock above the doors of the courtroom as they hauled him through. As a cruel joke, the words on the clock read: Your Time is Up. At the entrance of the chamber, the soldiers tied his hands and feet with Slythian shackles, which were crafted from the hard scales of the serpents of Lornhark. Darek struggled against the shackles but the more he struggled, the more the grip tightened around his arms and legs.
They brought him to the round platform in the center of the room; it stretched over a deep, endless abyss. Overhead, the ceiling split evenly in two and retracted away into the walls, revealing an enormous stadium above with an audience numbering in the thousands. The soldiers placed him on the platform; it was raised into the center stage of the stadium. The flocks of people were quiet until the moment they saw Darek. Once they laid eyes on him, they began to shriek and shrill. The crowd sneered, showing contempt for the one on trial.
His eyes wide, Darek fearfully watched the multitude shout and scream. Though he could not make out any of their words, he could feel their enmity against him. Their piercing tongues spewed bloodthirsty hatred that crushed his heart by the agony of humiliation. Sheepish, he hung his head and did not want to meet their derisive scowls.
The soldiers pushed him to the edge of the platform. The judge’s podium was located on a smaller platform that appeared in front of Darek. A dozen soldiers stood on a ledge that stretched along the inner wall of the stadium; they had their guns pointed at Darek to deter him from any escape attempts. Darek flinched as spotlights shone brightly over him.
Dionus proceeded to enter the room and sat at the podium as the judge of this trial. Darek was surprised to see that he had on a suit of armor like the knights from the age prior to the millennium, before the great space age. Despite his archaic appearance, he carried himself very professionally, and he emanated an air of strict authority. With his gavel, he struck the podium thrice. All the chaotic commotion faded into a dead silence.
“Court is now in session!” A gruff voice bellowed throughout the chamber.“Now let’s see here…” Dionus casually perused through a thick stack of papers that was before him. “It says here you are charged with the mass slaughter of nearly…” He rubbed his eyes and looked again at the paper. “Fifty billion people? Sounds like a case of genocide.”
“What?” Darek was astonished by the outrageous claim. “I don’t know anything about that!” He pondered in his head about how such a thing could even be done. It was inconceivable.
The judge continued, “However, to tell you the truth, it is a mere estimation and may not even hold a candle to reality. Who knows how many have died at the hands of you and your accomplices over the past two thousand years?” Dionus continued to flip through the papers. “Let’s see…there’s also trespassing on private grounds, assaulting officers, evading arrest…”
“I’ve never hurt anyone!” Darek shouted. “I must have been framed!”
“A convenient excuse.”
“I’m telling you—you’ve got the wrong guy!” Darek tried to run
“Well, I suppose that is possible.” The judge rubbed his chin thoughtfully while he analyzed the case. “But that would take far too long to figure out. So let’s continue, shall we?” Dionus stood up and pointed toward Darek. “How does the jury find the defendant?”
“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!” The assembly chanted in a deafening uproar.
When he heard this, Darek slumped to on the ground in despair, realizing his fate was sealed. This is so unfair! He thought solemnly, Why are they doing this to me?
Dionus grinned. “And what shall be his sentence?”
Everyone shouted, “DEATH! DEATH! GIVE HIM DEATH!”
“Then it shall be as you have said: his sentence is death!” Dionus picked up his sword and scabbard and drew forth his blade. Though it was not in the presence of light, his long sword still shined. The blade, almost white as snow, glistened as yellow dust trickled off the edges. All the soldiers averted their eyes away, for the sight of the blade nearly blinded them. As the judge swung the sword in the air, demonstrating its grace and beauty, the assembly quieted down and was awestruck by the spectacle. “I hereby declare the defendant guilty. I shall carry out execution with swift and blind justice.” Dionus lunged over the podium and landed before Darek.
“This can’t be…” Darek kept his face down. He was too afraid to see his executioner standing before him. Though he feared the afterlife, he wished for a quick and painless death.
Dionus slowly raised his sword. “This is the beginning of the end…”
Before he could bring the blade down, an abrupt wind formed around them, almost knocking Dionus off his feet. A strange orb of swirling blue light suddenly appeared between them. Dionus warily stepped back. The orb—which was originally the size of a tiny speck—grew steadily and created a massive vacuum, sucking in all sorts of things from sheets of paper to cloth hats. The weird phenomenon flattened out in the likeness of a door. Dionus watched the door carefully. There was nothing on the other side of the open door, only darkness. Then three people emerged from the darkness.
The first to step out was a slim man with a red cape across his shoulder. He appeared to be much older than the others with him. His facial features were very distinguished, especially with his sunken cheeks and pale complexion. The stringy, long white hair on his head was dry and withered. Next was a slender and vibrant young woman. Her wavy brunette hair bobbed as she took strides. She wore black loose-fitting garments with sleeves so long that they nearly touched her knees. The last to come out was a young man with short brown hair. He wore a sleeveless black t-shirt that accentuated his brawny body. The door closed behind them.
Darek recognized the younger ones immediately as his childhood friends.
“Elize…Slade…” he gasped.
“Stop this trial,” said Slade. “He’s innocent. We are the ones you want.” Slade raised his hands in surrender. “Let him go. We’ll take his place.”
Looking ecstatic, Dionus exclaimed, “So you’ve come at last! I’ve been expecting you—the infamous Judges of Verras.” Dionus motioned for the soldiers to stay on guard. “I’ll consider it if only you’d tell me, fair Judge, of your purpose. For what reason do the Judges exist?”
Slade hesitated. Unsure of Dionus’s intentions, he exchanged glances with the other Judges and then said matter-of-factly, “We, as Judges, must vanquish the evil in the galaxy. It is the only way to maintain peace and give hope to the innocent. That is our purpose.”
“A commendable purpose.” Dionus clapped mockingly. “But for however long the Judges have existed, evil still lives! That’s the truth of the matter, isn’t it? No matter how much judgment you pass, no matter how many people you kill…there will always be evil. If you had succeeded, there would be no need for police or military power. Don’t you see? What you’re doing is useless. Evil will always exist. You cannot vanquish it.”
“This is a waste of time. Let’s go,” said Elize, as she quickly snatched Darek and pulled him away from Dionus. She turned to the older man beside her and said to him, “Lyonil, open up the portal so we can get out of here! We’ll have to take Darek with us.”
Without saying a word, Lyonil placed his hand on the door. But the door did not open. Instead, the door shrank in an instant and vanished from their sight.
Slade grabbed Lyonil by the collar. “Are you crazy? What are you doing? She told you to open it! You’ve trapped us here! Now we have to—”
“Trapped us? That’s right.” Lyonil grinned maliciously and pushed Slade back. “I told you this was a trap, but you didn’t listen. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You—it was you all along…” Slade looked at him with suspicion. “I knew it was strange that we were discovered. You set us up!” Glaring at him, Slade confronted Lyonil and pushed him to the ground. “How could you betray the order?”
“There’s no need for such hostility.” Dionus bowed to appease them. Lyonil scrambled to his feet and stood by Dionus’s side where he felt much safer. Dionus continued, “You see, I asked Lyonil to bring you here, but with good reason. It’s no big deal. I just have a proposal to make.”
“What kind of proposal?” Elize asked.
“It’s quite simple. Right now, as it stands, the Judges are nothing more than vigilantes. We could both benefit if we work together.”
“And if we don’t agree to work with scum such as yourself?”
“I think you’ll find the alternative quite unpleasant.” Dionus snapped his fingers.
Hundreds of soldiers marched into the court with their rifles armed and ready to fire. They entered from all of the entrances and surrounded the central platform where Darek and his friends were located.
“Those who are not for me are against me.” Dionus raised his hand and motioned for the soldiers to hold their fire. “What is your answer?”
While Darek was still tied down, he asked Slade and Elize, “What’s the plan?”
Slade said to Darek, “We’ll distract them. Take this chance to run.” Slade exchanged glances with Elize. Elize lifted her hands; the end of her long sleeves fell down to her shoulders. She stretched out her fingers and her claw-like fingernails extended several inches.
“Wait, you forgot to free me! I can’t run away like this.” Darek called out to them, but they were so focused on the soldiers around them that they did not hear a word he said.
“The Judges are turning hostile. Open fire!” The soldiers let loose their guns, showering the central platform with a massive hail of bullets.
It was then that Elize’s nails seemed to come alive; they rapidly grew nearly seven feet long, twisting and slithering on the floor like snakes. As the bullets drew near to them, her nails lashed out like whips. Every bullet aimed at the central platform was repelled back; not a single bullet could get through. Shocked at how the bullets ricocheted in midair, the soldiers ducked for cover.
Elize leapt across the room. With a few large swipes of her giant claws, their rifles were shredded apart. The soldiers hoped that their armor-plated uniforms would defend against her onslaught, but she tore right through their armor and into their skin.
As Slade watched Elize engage the enemy, his right hand began convulsing; the veins in his forearm became increasingly visible. Small globs of liquid metal leaked out from the skin of his palm. The liquid metal merged together as a thick coating from the tips of his fingers all the way to his elbow. It solidified into a large, flexible gauntlet. Baring his metallic fist, he valiantly charged into a group of soldiers, pummeling them out of his way.
Darek, his hands and feet still tied up, squirmed along the ground. There were stairs that connected the elevated platform to an exit. He tried to worm his way down, but a few soldiers came out of that door and curiously watched Darek as he attempted to pass them.
“Hey look, the criminal is trying to get away,” they said, blocking his path.
Darek inched faster, attempting to squeeze between their legs, but they grabbed him with ease and held him at gunpoint. The soldier shouted, “We have your friend! Cease your attack!”
When Elize and Slade heard Darek was captured, they stuck their hands up in surrender. The lights in the room flickered on and off several times before they went out completely. The blackout was momentary. Within seconds, the lights came back on. But Darek was gone. The soldiers, who had been holding onto Darek a moment ago, looked dumbfounded.
Elize stood close to Slade and whispered, “You think they took him somewhere?”
Slade whispered back, “No, it doesn’t look like it.”
Dionus told his soldiers, “Make sure every exit is sealed. The prisoner must not escape.”
The captain nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ll get on it right away.” He then told his soldiers, “Alpha team, follow me. The rest will stay here and protect the Commander.”
As the soldiers marched out, Slade saw this as an opportunity to make an escape. After he made sure no one was watching him, he sprinted to the exit. When he reached the closed door he smashed it open with his fist. But there—waiting for him as the door flung wide open—was Dionus. Slade couldn’t believe his eyes. Thinking it was an illusion, he looked back to the place where Dionus was just standing a second ago and did not see him there. Dionus was truly standing right in front him; the man had moved nearly twenty feet in the blink of an eye.
Confused, Slade gasped, “What’s this? Anti-law? Spirit displacement?” Slade tightened the grip on his right fist. The metal alloy around his entire arm glowed dark red. He thrust knuckles forward. Slade hit nothing but air, missing the tip of Dionus’s nose by less than an inch. Slade tried again and again to punch Dionus. However, one after another, his punches kept missing by just an inch.
“Surrender, Slade,” Lyonil advised him. “There’s no need to resist. Dionus is not our enemy. We can work together with him.”
“You traitor,” snapped Slade. “Maybe he’s not your enemy, but he’s still mine!” Slade threw one more straight punch with all his might. But Dionus sidestepped the attack and cut Slade’s legs with his sword. Feeling the sharp pain, Slade reluctantly kneeled down, his thighs bleeding profusely.
“Slade!” shouted Elize, sounding concerned.
Elize aimed her fingernails at Dionus. In an instant they stretched toward him, piercing through the air like javelins with astonishing speed. Dionus dodged her talons and used a rapid succession of slashes to shred her overgrown nails apart. He closed in on her and held the tip of his sword against her throat.
“Get away from her!” Frustrated and furious, Slade struggled to stand, but his bloody legs would not carry him.
“THAT’S ENOUGH, DIONUS!” An alarming shout roared through the chamber.
The upper ceiling of the auditorium crumbled apart and three men fell from above. These men floated down hundreds of feet to land safely upon the central platform.
“Stop this foolishness now!” said the man in the middle, who was robed in red and white garments. The garments covered his head such that his face could not be clearly seen. He wore a mantle over his body that was elaborate and ornamental, studded with gold buttons.
His eyes wide open, Slade said, “At last! Heroes!”
“Heroes? How troublesome,” Dionus muttered, as he sheathed his blade and stepped away from Elize. He asked the intruders, “You there—are you truly from the Legion of Heroes? To what do I owe this honor that the Heroes of old should come to see me?”
“Dull your wicked tongue and bow in reverence,” the man on the left proclaimed to Dionus, “for the one who stands before you is none other than Xavius!”
Dionus said, “The Archlord Xavius? This is the greatest honor I could possibly receive.”
Xavius unraveled the garments around his face. His red hair was like a mighty flame. His light blue eyes, cold as ice, were fixed upon Dionus. He said, “Dionus, I have not come to see you, but to question your actions. First, you must understand that I did not come to impose on your rules and regulations. However, since the dawn of time we—the Legion of Heroes—have had an alliance with them— the Order of Judges. We feel it is only fair to come to their aid as a neutral arbiter.
“For you see, I have received word that you personally produced false evidence against the defendant on trial.” Indignant, Xavius yelled out, appealing to the crowd, “Unfair judgment is a crime in the eyes of our law as well as yours! The one known as Darek must be released from all charges!”
“I will see to it personally. You need not worry.” Dionus smiled and bowed.
Xavius motioned toward Slade. “Since the Judges came to help the defendant who was framed, they must not be held accountable for the damages they have caused in self-defense.”
“Of course, I would never think of it.” Dionus bowed his head again.
“Xavius!” Slade limped to the Archlord and stumbled as he grabbed the edge of his robe. “Execute Lyonil! He’s the one who did this…”
Xavius shook his head. “That is an internal matter for the Judges to deal with. I cannot interfere. Also, the Legion of Heroes only exists to protect good—not to slay evil. Executions are for you, as a Judge, to carry out.” He bowed his head toward Slade. “Now that we are done, I must take my leave.”
The three Heroes raised their hands. Blue energy sparks rose from the ground and lit the area around them in a radiant glow. They muttered a few words, causing a tornado to rise up from the platform. The Heroes were sucked up instantly into the sky by the powerful whirlwind.
Darek was rudely awoken by a knock to the head. While regaining consciousness, he examined his surroundings and found himself, strangely enough, inside a tight air duct. For every second that passed he felt a heavy tug pull him along. Someone or something was dragging through the ductwork.
Darek screamed, “Hey, let me go! I’m innocent!” He resisted being pulled and struggled to break free, kicking his legs in frustration.
“Stop that. Someone might hear you.”
“Jenson! You came!” Surprised to hear the voice of his best friend, Darek calmed down and said, “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t try to help you out?” Without waiting for a response, Jenson warned softly, “By the way, speak in a whisper.” He continued to pull Darek along with a rope. “We’re not safe just yet.”
“Sorry about that.” Darek whispered, “So how did you get me out of there?”
“You really want to know?” said Jenson. “It’s quite simple. I just had to get past all of their security systems and security guards without being noticed. Then I had to sneak inside their ventilation system and wait for the right time to save you.”
Darek laughed. “I bet you’re the only one who’d think that’s simple.”
“Well, that was the simple part. There was nothing I could’ve done if there wasn’t so much chaos in the court.” Jenson stopped and cupped his hand over his ear. “Hush.”
“What? Do you hear something?” Darek asked.
“What part of hush don’t you understand?” snapped Jenson.
Darek heard a loud voice shout, “There are sounds coming from the vents! Check it out!”
“They’re onto us,” said Jenson. “I’m going to try to rush out of here as fast as I can. Hang on tight! This is going to be pretty rough!”
Jenson crawled like a madman, scrambling through the convoluted, intertwining network of pipes and ducts. Giant rats, each one nearly half the size of a grown man, scurried their fattened selves along, occasionally blocking Jenson’s path. However, several loud noises behind him impelled him to get over his disgust and push onward. In his attempt to shoo them away, Jenson slapped the rats around, but not without being gnawed at. Darek lifted his head and saw the soldiers clumsily climb into the ductwork with their guns by their side.
“They’re gaining on us,” said Darek. “Can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m moving as fast as I can!” Jenson replied.
“Halt! Stay where you are or we’ll open fire.” The soldier right behind them fell into a prone position and aimed his gun at Darek. “This is your last warning.”
“Geez, you’re so slow, Jenson,” Darek grumbled. “What’s holding you back? They’re going to kill us and here you are pacing yourself!”
Jenson spat, “You’re the one holding me back! Do you have any idea how heavy you are? Besides, you were the one blabbering with that big mouth of yours and got us caught in the first place. You know what? I’m not risking my life for this.” Jenson shouted to the men behind them, “Don’t shoot! We surrender!”
The soldiers slung their rifles across their side and began crawling toward the boys.
“What are you doing? Don’t surrender,” Darek said. “They’re still going to kill us! The only difference is when!”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jenson kicked the bottom of the duct as hard as he could.
“Wha-what are you doing now?” Darek turned his head around as far back as he could to see what Jenson was up to. “You’re not serious?”
Jenson kicked the bottom of the duct six times with all his might and the bottom gave way, opening up a small hole. “Stop fretting, I’ve got this all planned out.”
“We’re going down? You’re crazy! At least untie me— AAAAAAAAAAH!”
Darek couldn’t tell much of what was going on. His body felt weightless as they fell and he could see the light fading behind them as they went deeper and deeper. The blind ride was extremely rough. Since he was still restrained, he was slammed against the walls, giving him a big headache. After five long minutes of sliding, falling, and smashing around, they finally fell through a chute and landed awkwardly on top of each other on the tiled floor.
Darek looked around. They had fallen into the maintenance closet—a small room filled with robots of all shapes and sizes that kept the facility in good shape.
Jenson, still dizzy from the ride, hopped up to his feet. In a hurry, he plugged a cable from his handheld pc into the sidewall panel; fingers rapidly buzzing across the keyboard, he typed in all sorts of codes to hack into the system. Darek heard the loud banging above them, expecting the soldiers to fall out of the chute at any moment.
“Stop wasting time! We’ve got to get out of here!” His limbs shackled, Darek wriggled around helplessly.
Jenson said nothing and stared at the screen.
Darek asked, “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “You can’t be too sure with these things.”
“Well, hurry it up!” Darek froze. He could hear their approach getting ever closer. He wanted to run, but with his arms and legs bound, all he could do was squirm.
When the soldiers reached the exit, it looked as though they had slammed up against an invisible wall. The soldiers were right there in front of them, and it looked like they could just step out of the chute. However, all they did was pound their fists wildly in the air. They opened their mouths wide to shout and scream, but no voices came out.
“Looks like the force-field is working properly,” Jenson said. “I had to disable it earlier to get in. Don’t worry. It’s also soundproof.” Jenson hurried to a stash of his belongings hidden inside the remains of an old, broken robot in the corner and took out a few things. He slipped a protective covering over Darek’s skin where he was bound. Then Jenson poured an acidic solution on the Slythian shackles, corroding them into a black sludge.
Finally free from his bonds, Darek jumped to his feet, grabbed Jenson by the shoulders and shook him back and forth; his head bounced like a bobblehead. “What’s wrong with you? You should’ve told me your plan! You had me all worried for nothing!”
Jenson shrugged in reply, smirking.
Darek sat down on the floor, looking exhausted. “All this excitement is wearing me out.”
“Don’t take it easy just yet.” Jenson reached for the ITD in his pocket and handed it to Darek. “We’re not safe until you get off this station. Take my ITD.”
Darek pushed it away, shaking his head. “I can’t accept this.”
Jenson grabbed Darek’s hand, pried open his fingers and smacked the ITD in his palm.
He said, “Just take it. Think of it as a farewell present. I can always make another one. It’ll just take another year of savings.”
“A farewell present?” Darek chewed his lip as some emotions riled up within him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just hide out somewhere in Albiore.”
“Darek!” Now it was Jenson’s turn to grab him and shake some sense into him. “Listen to me. It’s the Federation we’re dealing with! If you go back to Albiore, they will find you. No…if you stay anywhere in Federation space, they’ll find you! You saw what they were going to do—they were going to kill you!” Releasing Darek, Jenson said reasonably, “You have to get out of here!”
Darek fell silent and closed his eyes. After thinking about it, he opened his eyes and looked straight at Jenson. “You’re right. Even if I don’t mind endangering myself, I don’t want anyone else dragged into this.” He clenched his hand around the ITD. “Fine—I’ll go.”
“Good.” Beaming, Jenson looked satisfied. “We don’t have much time. Let me quickly explain all I can about the ITD and how to use it.” He strapped the ITD on Darek’s wrist and flipped open the top cover to reveal several buttons. “Pay attention. On the top is your destination. You can either put in the planet name or code.” Jenson pointed to the various buttons. “This starts the teleportation and the other cancels it. One thing you must know about teleporting is that it does not send you straight to the destination, but rather it follows a certain path. You’ll be sent to the nearest planet along the path, and then when you arrive at that planet, it’ll send you to the next planet. It’ll keep going like this. Understand?”
Darek scratched his head quizzically. “No.”
Jenson said, continuing, “Each planet is basically what we’d call a hop point. You hop from one planet to next. The line of planets will form a path to the destination. This ensures that you reach the destination safely. Because of this simple system, you won’t end up in some random nebula. I won’t say that it’s absolutely safe, but your chances of survival are high.”
“Chances?” Darek was appalled at the thought of it. “It doesn’t always work?”
Jenson cleared his throat and tapped his fingers against the wall to hide his nervousness, though it seemed to have the opposite effect. “Er—well, you know, it’s almost guaranteed to work…most of the time. There are some factors that may change the result. Like, for instance, if the device goes haywire, you may never escape the tunnel, or if your final destination is no longer around, you may land in space. But other than that…it should be pretty safe.”
Darek gulped. “That doesn’t sound very reassuring…”
“It’s your only hope, so just utter a prayer before you use it.” Jenson opened the door of the room. “That’s all you need to know. It’s time for you to get out of here. Don’t worry about anything and go. M