The Rockaverse

He heard nothing I said.

Argent watched as Tormand mercilessly beat the man and then place his hands on him. Now Argent was a man of touch but to be touched in this manner by Tormand made his skin crawl. He frowned and then cupped Tormand's face in his hands. In those few seconds he looked into the eyes of the man before him and saw his own reflection. He saw something he had seen hundreds upon thousands of times before, just never in his own face.

Fear.

"Then die," was all Argent said before sweat came from his finger tips and violently shoved themselves into every orifice in Tormand's face, sweat also ensnaring and squeezing Tormand's neck as Argent let go and stepped back.

~*~

Horik and Clorik joined Seru's laughter as they put out cups to collect Seru's overflowing gold.

"Rumors, our fortune teller, a lot of hearsay really," Ravi sighed. "Y'know, I uh, I think I know where this plan went wrong now..."

"You THINK!?" Horik exclaimed.

"Listen," Ravi snapped, "We're very poor! We needed to do something or these damn raiders are going to start kidnapping people! Y'know, steal people. Take them from our village. What are you guys, bad people? Help a cult out, c'mon."

"We give boats. You give us a weapon or y'know, at least owe us a favor," Caressa explained without a single mispronunciation.

"Yeah, we just go fuck ourselves and hope you all survive long enough to repay the favor," Ravi said as she rolled her eyes.

"What is it you want?" Qunith muttered, crossing their arms skeptically at the sentient piles of shit in human skin before them.

***

Tormand hadn't time for a single sound, for one moment his jaw was held by Argent, the next he was suffocating. His lungs filled with water, his eyeballs burst, his nasal skeleton cracked. And in a moment, the Emperor of the Matran passed. Tormand's corpse collapsed beside the genderless reporter he'd murdered. He was the the last of his kind. A life that had been stretched on hundreds of years too long, finally at an end. The last Tormand was dead.

***

There was a patter at the door. Anaszia eating breakfast in bed when the news came in, so early in the morning. Argent had already departed for the Land of the Baonauts a few days, not as a Matranical representative but as a citizen, travelling on his own. Royal guards entered her room, Captain Gondes between them with his helm under his arm. Anaszia paused her meal, but after a few minutes kept eating...

***

The bronze space-fairing shuttle was being refuelled by fresh water at the station, the citizenry aboard fanning themselves as they sat around in the dry Harakosian heat. A mixture of Baons, Longbaons, Sorillians, and Ulfirians- most overdressed for the weather they now found themselves in. Newspapers written in Baon font had been given out. Those who could read while the rest fanned themselves with the sweaty pages. A few suited Sorillians sat atop their luggage, pipes in hand and acting as though the heat didn't effect them despite them sweating their moustaches off. They'd landed in a small space-port village at the edge of the cliffs. Argent stood there, seagulls drifting wildly over the sea beyond...

From beside him a suspender wearing dark skinned man- though a boy of one, approached. "I-I know you," The man said with a crooked smile. Argent had noticed him watching him on the flight to the Harakos, but had though little of it. Perhaps he recognized him from his time as Captain of the Guard?

But no.

"You're... you're Argent of the Rock," The man said in an accent that called Argent home.

"You sAck of shIT, I just explA-" Ravi began before Cultist #69 (AYYYY) clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Look, friends. Pals. Buddies. My kin from a different provider of life," the cultist began. "How much time do you have on your hands right now?"

"Not any left since you wasted like all of it," Horik snapped.

"Alright, fair enough," the cultist responded as Ravi frothed at the mouth. "How about we just give you a boat and even some of our cultists for backup. You go take care of your business and then come back, drop our people off, and help us take care of the little raider problem we got, yeah?"

"What makes you think we're going to come back or even want the cultists?" Horik shot back.

"Well we could also just kill her and not give you a boat?" the cultist said as Clorik screamed. Horik and Talideth turned around to see Caressa wrestling Clorik to the ground to put her in a choke hold. The ant seal she had been riding gave a low growl of warning and the cultists began to swarm around her, obscuring the two from view.

"My clo-!" Horik exlaimed before stopping herself, realizing what she was about to say. "my closest sister...Uh. Oh no. I guess we better do what they say uh. I don't know. I'm sure i can just make another one. What ya'll think?"

~*~

Argent breathed in deeply. Amidst the memories and heat that seemed to wrap itself around him, he felt a peace he had not felt since he had begun to accommodate himself to Anaszia's life. He hadn't even realized how much he had grown used to it until he heard the child call him 'Argent of the Rock' when he had expected any of the royal titles he had been called so often. It was a title he had no heard in a long time and hearing it gave him so much joy that he had a strong desire to see the boy's mother. Well, if she was alive. Though he wasn't very picky right now.

"Why yes sir," Argent responded as he turned to face the young man. "I dare say I think I recognize you. You wouldn't happen to be traveling with a female companion would you now? I'm sure she'd like to meet me as well."

"What?" The boy asked, confused. "I'm- I'm alone, sir, I justa'... well, you're Argent." He smiled. "You're somethin' of a legend back on the Rock... saw your picture in the paper and everythin'. Is that where you're going to? Back home, sir?"

Argent raised an eyebrow at the child but gave a low chuckle, resisting the urge to leave.

"Well now, ain't you a perceptive one? I am indeed going on home now. Got some business to attend to there," Argent responded in a friendly tone. "You seem a little young to be traveling alone though, much less reading. You got some kind of business, boy? Some kind of advice you be needing with the women?"

The man was like nineteen. "I'm uh... headin' home too, sir," He said with a nod. "I left... four, five years ago? You know, the dream every Rockian has... my mama finally got me a ship and got me out." He squinted. "But uh... the Matran is mighty different. Things didn't work out... maybe things got a bit better back home."

"So you got a mama on the Rock, eh?" Argent said with an insidious smile. "Mighty kind of her to send ya out though it's only right to be coming back home eventually. Never thought I'd be seeing the precious sands there again myself.. "

Argent paused and frowned as though that statement had bothered him. He really hadn't expected to go back. However, he also had never asked about going back either.

"Has your mama sent you any news about what's being going on out there? Maybe sent you one of those images of herself?"

A long silence fell over the group of cultists and cowboys. Seru squinted at the cultist before turning around fully to face them and hesitating a brief Rockian moment. Deals on the Rock were...rocky. It was normal to expect betrayal and even death. Seru had witnessed her first betrayal a long time ago, among the desert sands in the cool of the night, where her father lay dead and cold beneath her.

Yet a gloved hand reached out to the cultist and the woman nodded, "Ya got yerselves a deal."

The creature's voice echoed throughout the dessert as it veins began to freeze up, it's green, rot covered tongue repeatedly slapping Ada in the face. But it seemed the ice in it's veins finally had fully spread through the rest of it's body, as it's skin grew hollow and cold and shattered into icy crystals upon the sands below, howling upwards the sky once again as it's life was seemingly extinguished.

But as the night grew ever darker, it seemed as if the danger had not yet passed...

***

"Help!" a scream could be heard emerging from Elysa's tent. M'Kama quickly rushed out of his seat and dashed into the tent.

"Assistant researcher Hardlinger, h-he was here but a moment ago and now..." Elysa pointed to a sinkhole in sands beneath the tent. One that hadn't been there previously. The sands surrounding it were died red with Hardlinger's blood. "Something pulled him in!"

M'Kama sighed as he glanced into the sinkhole, spotting something below the grains. "Is there somethin beneath here?" he asked.

"Some tombs, we've discovered. Far pre-dating the arrival of the Skylanders, of course," Elysa struggled to gather herself, perking up a bit over her co-workers recent death. "From what we can tell, it may even pre-date the pyramids."

M'Kama had to admit he'd find this information interesting, if not for the current predicament. "Then it stands to reason that these grounds were not meant to be trifled with. Hurry and gather your things," he advised her.

"W-why?!" she asked.

"Because if we stay here, we die," M'Kama noted.

"Persistent bastard," Ada muttered, sighing in annoyance as she pulled herself free of the creature's frozen grip. "I hate these types, so uncivilized." Ada paused, wondering if she should return underground or not. She had yet to find the researcher, after all.

After a moment, she shrugged. It wasn't like they were going to get any deader. She'd be back, and perhaps better equipped to fight the beasts that seemed to haunt these ruins.

Humming to herself, Ada skipped across the sands back towards the researchers' encampment.

***

High above the Rock, another ship appeared from the stars. The man aboard awakened to the alarm he had set, his golden eyes taking in the desert planet below. Grunting, he shifted into a more suitable position to reach the controls, and began angling the craft down to land.

"Falcon, if you're listening," the man said into the comms, broadcasting on the private channel the two had set up. "I'm coming down. Ping me your location asap."

Leaning back, the man sighed. He hoped she responded sooner rather than later, but it wasn't like she was expecting a call. It might... be some time.

The boy frowned and left to go back on the ship. Their rest stop was nearly over, and Argent had quickly proven himself no hero.

***

"What is going on?!" Trillani exclaimed, emerging from his tent and stuffing his shirt into his trousers...

"Something's out to kill us," M'Kama pointed out. "Best stay on your toes." He turned around to face Elysa who was busy collecting the bloodied sand, the only remains of her dead colleague and somberly stuffing it into an urn. "You. I need you to gather the remaining researchers once you're all done packing up."

"Packing up to go where?" Elysa stammered in response.

"To help Ada find your daughter, of course!" M'Kama stated, cheerfully. "And get you out of these accursed sands."

"That so?" a voice called out from amongst the researchers. He spoke a Sorillian dialect and appeared to be in his early fifties. Gray stubble covered his chin and narrowed, accusatory eyes glared beadily at the newcomers to the camp. "Don't remember too many deaths happening before you crawled up in here!"

"Mister Crisply, there were other murders..." Elysa interrupted.

"Shut up you 'ol dirty bag!" Crisply shot back, scratching his gut.

"Woah," M'Kama raised his hands.

"Ya crusty 'ol bitch!" Crisply continued his tirade.

"WOAH, Hey..." M'Kama interrupted. "Calm down, friend. What's your job?"

"He is in charge of security for our expedition," Elysa explained.

"And he's done a remarkable job thus far, I see," M'Kama noted dryly.

"FUCK OFF!" Crisply spat. "We got here and within a few days trek, my men dessert us in the middle of the godforsaken desert! Cowards! Rat bastards. All of 'em!"

"And are there any other sort of leaders of this expedition?" M'Kama asked. "Who is it that your people rely on. Certainly not him," M'Kama pointed at the scoffing Crisply. As he had asked, four more figures began to step forward.

The first was an old man, very tall but hunched over. On his face, he sported a thin black mustache, that was poorly dyed. His eyes were extremely beady and his expression hard to read as if his face was squeezed together by wrinkles. Perhaps, to counteract this, he wore a monocle.

"That's Professor Boughlin," Elysa explained. "Anthropology Professor at the Vench Insititute of Human Studies."

The next was a gaudily dressed Baoan man, younger than the rest but beneath his youthful face, there were signs of age. Unlike the others, he clearly seemed to have a great deal of money on him given the care put into the cleanliness of his clothes and the lack of even a speck of dirt on his face.

"That's Doctor Dei-fan from the Baoan College," Elysa went on. "In addition to being out lead paleontologist, he funded our entire expedition."

The last to approach was a violent looking woman with a long metal bat dragging across the sand. No piece of her clothing indicated she had studied any academia at all, and seemed to be some sort of stowaway who just happened to be hanging out with this group of professors. She glanced around with a fidgety, nervous look.

"That's Alsa. She's a last minute addition to our expedition. She's, uh...I believe you said you were an expert in the physical sciences, Alsa?" Elysa asked.

Alsa nervously gripped her bat tighter.

"Doctor Dei-fan was insistent that she come along," Elysa smiled.

M'Kama smiled in turn, placing a hand on Elysa's shoulder. "In all my time on this world, I have never seen such a miracle as your continued survival," he stated with a warm smile.

"Oh, well thank you," Elysa stated, absentmindedly.

M'Kama, whose expression had returned to one of low expectations, turned around and extended his pointer finger forward. "We go this way. Have your leaders gather your people and prepare them for a trek. Keep count of how many remain. We will likely not be alone..."