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The camera accelerated through the dense woods and into a small clearing. A cloaked figure knelt between a thicket of brambles and thorns. Their face is concealed by a red hood and the camera stopped abruptly. As if sensing the camcorder's presence, the veiled entity turned its head. Within the confines of the cloak was a book partially seen.
I am lost...like a babe in the woods.
Godfrey
Ramparte pulled back the crimson garb to reveal his bewildered face. He slowly examines his surroundings as if he were studying them for the first time. Unsatisfied, he closed his eyes, took a breath, and turned back to the viewing audience.
Our quarrel isn't with you. My fight is not yours. Why interfere with matters you could not possibly contend with? Why make yourself a target, Theron Daggershield?
A breeze caressed the red attire as if spirits answered him. Bemused, he pulled out the book he had safely tucked away.
We're not so different, you and I. The realm of fantasy is ours and ours alone. No one else can appreciate it the way we do. In another life we could have been brothers. Hand in hand reshaping reality. But no...you'd rather wear a knight's helmet and charge into certain death. Lunacy. You're just as mad as WZCW says I am, do you realize that? What? Do you think you're not?
The camera glimpses at the title of the book. It is
Grimm's Fairy Tales.
You are. Why else would you attack Cerberus, the strongest entity you've ever witnessed? Has all of this talk of magic and dice finally brought you down into my level? Because when I look at you, all I see is a madman. The only difference between you and me is that you haven't accepted who you are yet.
The Catalyst laughed hollowly. A grin plastered his perfect face and his eyes peered longingly into nothingness. He picked himself up, dropping the piece of literature onto the ground. From the brambles he removed his cane. Playing with it, he eyed the camera again.
We are all just stories in the end, Warblade. If you wish to end yours so early, then I welcome your challenge. Face me. Take on the mad dog of Cerberus. I haven't forgotten that it was you who gave me my first loss in this company. The man you see before you has changed since then. It is what I do. Cerberus is an apex mongrel of destruction thanks to my cunning.
And soon...Eve will realize that and fall for me. It is her destiny.
Ramparte shook his head as if clearing his mind. Theron Daggershield need not know about his attraction to The Fabulous One.
Nevermind. We are both things fairy tales are made of. These woods have harbored many a classic one, like The Little Red Riding Hood. When I stepped away from Ascension 89, I thought I was the titular character herself. Someone who was distracted by the wolf, you, from the paradise that is Grandmother's House, Eve Taylor...Cerberus... But as I speak to you now, I've reached an epiphany. You are this "Riding Hood"...
The Catalyst rips away the scarlet fabric from his shoulders, revealing his signature white suit. Somberly, the cloth wrapped itself around thorns.
...who naively steps into the wolf's den. My playground. And you can't get out. There is no escape from the mad dog of Cerberus. The Big Bad Wolf stands on two legs, and has a serpent tongue.
To emphasize this, he licks his lips and yanks apart his cane. A hidden blade glimmers in the twilight sun. He raises it to the level of his eyes. Without provocation, he starts to taste the sword. Teases it. And like lightning striking he stabs the copy of
Grimm's Fairy Tales repeatedly. Ramparte continues to hack and slash at the 1st Edition copy until he is out of breath. Exhausted, his feet buckle beneath him and he kneels back down into the brambles and thorns.
I'm going...to tear...the sun from the sky and the very...heavens will pour down on us!!! We will...burn together. You and I.
And in that moment...that very moment you will know what I know.
Panting, the aristocrat combed his blonde hair from his eyes. A nervous tick formed on his lips. It was if he was keeping himself from smirking.
Life isn't a fairy tale. There are no imaginary friends to motivate you forward. No weapon to kill the dragon and no magic to stop the sorceress. I'm going to shatter every belief you hold dear. You will listen to my Heresy. It begs to be heard.
Another breeze blew the torn pages away from sight. He stared at them all with a vacant expression. The blade is sheathed and the cane guided the mad dog of Cerberus out of the woods. Two words were softly spoken to the trees.
Hail Catalyst.
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