PARTICLE SURGE
PRODUCTIONS

#1 - "One Shot"
Written and HTMLed by: Adrian J. Watts

Stonehenge, England. 1987.

Dark, billowing clouds gathered over the bluestone structure near Salisbury Plain, and pale lightning crackled beneath them. It was night, and the mysterious structure-cum-tourist attraction was deserted, which meant that no-one saw the large red pentagram that suddenly appeared, encircling the henge; no-one saw the thick columns of red light that rose up from each point on the pentagram to reach into the clouds, crossing the lightning with apparent ease; no-one saw the clouds themselves turn blood red and begin to dissolve, covering the ground with a splatter of maroon mist; and no-one saw the quick, dull burst of blue light at the heart of the cloudstorm and the thin body that fell from the sky to land at the centre of the pentagram.

No-one who would gossip about it, at least.

One man watched as the fallen one picked himself up and brushed himself off, where any normal man would have been broken in two. He watched as a heavy metal staff with a sharp golden blade on each end fell from the clouds, almost imapling the fallen one, who had to leap quickly to the side to avoid being pierced. He watched as the other man lifted the staff and looked down toward the pentagram that was only then beginning to fade.

The watcher made a note of the other's unusual clothing and decided to get a more detailed look. He made a complicated incantation with the fingers of his right hand and blinked as golden sparks flickered in his eyes, instantly attuning his vision so that it could more easily identify and observe items and people that had been manipulated or influenced by magickal means. The fallen one suddenly seemed enormous to him, and he could discern the fine detail on the other man's form-fitting, thin, kevlar-like body suit. It was blue with red striped markings inside the arms, down the chest and behind the legs. The sigil of a golden, roaring lion adorned the man's chest. A red-and-blue cape fluttered behind him and his feet were covered by mechanical, bronze boots. Each hand was sheathed in a malleable metal glove and the right one had an oval-shaped disc attached to it.

What surprised the watcher more than anything was not the other man's strange garb; it was the fact that the other man was not a man at all. He was a boy, one nearly old enough to be a man, but still much more small and frail than the watcher himself. The magickal energy surrounding the boy and his uniform, however, was immense - greater than almost anything the watcher had encountered before.

The watcher remained concealed as the new arrival began to explore his surroundings. He seemed confused... and he had good reason to be! He was, after all, from the future. One thousand and twenty-two years into the future, in fact. His name was Crusader, and the time from which he hailed was not a pleasant one.

It turned out that early in the twenty-first century, aliens from beyond the solar system staged a surprise attack from Mars and managed to successfully conquer the planet and enslave its citizens. There was a resistance, but most of its efforts were futile; only one major strike was made against the alien invaders, and it managed only to allow a despotic extra-dimensional tyrant to seize control himself. He drove away all invaders and rebuilt the Earth, but his benevolence extended only to those who followed his rule without question. He reigned as Earth's supreme commander for almost one thousand years, and even managed to repel further invasion attempts from other alien species.

Sadly, one attempted invasion actually managed to do some damage to the Earth - a lot of damage, actually. The entire world, except for the nation the ruler called home, was conquered and enslaved, but not before a group of scientists launched a massive starship into space carrying cultural artifacts, scientific knowledge and potential colonists. The Crusader - whose regular name was Jake Townsend - was among those colonists, a young man at the age of seventeen and one of only twenty-four British people aboard the starship.

One of the other Britons was Jake's younger brother, a genius at all things mechanical. When the space vessel was assaulted by a cosmic entity of almost unimaginable power, the younger Townsend was able to help the crew save the day, gaining their family a lot of respect and an open pass to use all of the ship's resources. Among those privileges was the ability to visit Red Centre, a market the access to which was usually restricted to adults. There, Jake found and purchased a pendant that turned out to be a mystical artifact from the Britain of an alternate reality - one that gave him his own magical and high-tech abilities.

It was on that day that Jake became the Crusader, instinctively able to manipulate minor magickal manifestations while wielding his high-tech sword and shield. The mechanical gloves on his hands were able to sheathe his body in an electrical field that could either manifest as a circular shield on his right glove or a coccoon around his whole body, shielding him from the vacuum of space. The metal, bladed staff was able to pierce almost any substance, and his bodysuit was made of a futuristic material that was almost impervious to physical attacks while remaining light, tight and malleable.

Jake, as the Crusader, was given a baptism of blood when a race of half-mechanical, half-organic humanoid creatures attacked his ship on behalf of another alien species bent on universal domination. After dispatching those attackers, the Crusader and the ship's crew took the fight to the commander's home planet. They had only just started their fight on that world when, suddenly, the Crusader vanished in a pale blue mist and reappeared at Stonehenge. On Earth. In 1987.

He had no idea what had happened to place him there, and neither did the watcher, whose own adventure was equally remarkable - it was a pity that he did not know that. Once he was certain that the visitor was adequately aware of his surroundings, the watcher allowed himself to leave the hidden depths of the darkness, for the moonlight to wash over him and reveal his presence to the other. The Crusader sensed him immediately and whirled to face him, and while what he saw was unusual, it did not surprise him.

The watcher had pale blue skin, almost the same colour as the bulk of the Crusader's uniform, and pupilless, glowing white eyes. Two long blue horns emerged from his forehead, parting his shoulder-length red hair and his body - form the neck down - was completed covered in blood-red armour. As the moonlight played across the metal surface of the armour, the Crusader noticed ancient, arcane symbols etched into it and knew immediately that magick (and probably an alien) was involved.

"Hello?" the Crusader called out as the watcher approached. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The watcher did not answer; he just kept walking straight toward the Crusader, his heavy footsteps sinking into the earth.

"Do you hear me? Can you speak English?"

The watcher stopped a few feet in front of the Crusader and stared directly into his eyes. He sized up what he determined to be an opponent, and only when he was sure that the fight could proceed fairly did he speak.

"I can sense the magickal energy in and around your body," he said. "Fetch your staff."

"What?" the Crusader asked.

"Fetch your staff. I will not fight an unarmed opponent."

Fight? the Crusader thought. Who said anything about a fight?

"I think you're mistaken," the Crusader explained. "I'm not here to fight you. I just want to know where I am."

"That we would fight was a determination made long before your arrival," the watcher explained. He pointed a red-armoured finger at the Crusader's staff, which stood vertical, one blade buried a few inches into the soft earth at the centre of the Stonehenge monument. "Your body and weapon is ripe with magickal power, power I sense is augmented by this place. We will fight."

The Crusader shook his head, but he could feel it too. Standing inside Stonehenge he felt more powerful than ever before. So powerful that he was sure he could defeat the red knight. "Fine. Whatever you say. Just don't complain when I bring you down!" The Crusader took two steps to his staff and raised it by its short metal handle. He tensed his right forearm, activating the combination magickal/mechanical energy shield emitted by his right glove. "Okay. Let's do it."

Mystic Knight	Crusader

The knight slowly moved two finger on his left hand, initiating a complex magickal incantation designed only to test the extent of the Crusader's power. Thin, frail tendrils of arcane energy reached out from the Crusader's staff and covered his body, causing the young man to cry out first in surprise, and then in tremendous pain. The knight ceased his spellcasting and allowed the Crusader to fall to his knees.

"I overestimated you," he explained, "and I will not participate in such a one-sided battle. Find me when your power is sufficient to allow a fair and honourable contest." He placed his hands at his side and muttered a syllable too soft for the Crusader to hear. A red pentagram appeared beneath his feet and his body rapidly turned into a pale blue mist that was absorbed into the earth. Where the knight once stood light seemed to briefly bend, and as the pentagram faded so did the light refraction.

"How the frak...?" the Crusader wondered. "What did he do to my staff?"

He knew it was a bad idea, but he had never been the sort of person to just let things drop. He couldn't let the knight leave without finding out what he had done to defeat him so effortlessly, and he still needed to learn where he was and how he got there. He knew, from the little experience he had as a warrior in the past - which was actually the future - that if he concentrated, he could trace magickal energy, and he saw no reason why trying that again would not lead him to the obviously-magickal knight.

He squinted his eyes and focussed, and just as had happened with the red knight minutes earlier, golden dust sparkled against his eyes and he could see sources of magickal energy all around him. The standing stones that formed the henge glowed most brightly, but even the earth itself shone under his gaze. But there was only one energy trail leading away from the site, and that he believed belonged to the knight. He followed it for kilometers, until it disappeared into the side of a rocky mound in a field.

The Crusader raised his staff and slashed at the mound at the exact location that the trail faded. Rather than shatter the mound - as he had predicted - the attack instead caused part of the outcropping to vanish, forming an opening just large enough for him to walk through. He stepped into it... and found himself somewhere he did not expect to be.

Instead of emerging into a dark cavern, the Crusader found himself in a room of white nothingness, save for several paper-thin stone paths leading off in various directions. His enhanced magickal senses identified the one he was standing on as carrying the red knight's magickal trail and he followed it, unsure what he would encounter next. After what seemed like hours of walking along the path he came across an opening the same shape and size as the one he had created in the rocky mound and he rushed through to find himself once again lost and disoriented.

The Crusader appeared to be in some sort of forest, but the colours were all wrong. The sky was dark red, the earth was blue, and the trees and bushes around him were all sorts of colours - purple, yellow, orange. Considering what he had just experienced, none of that surprised him... untk he realised he sensed no magickal manipulation of the environment. Wherever he was, the bizarre pallette was natural.

The red knight's path was still clearly visible to him and he followed it through the foliage and into a rocky cave which, to his relief, was the colour he expected. It was pitch black inside, save for the magickal trail, and he continued to follow that for an interminable period of time until the passageway he was in - the dimensions of which he was not aware - opened into a larger, brighter area.

He had to blink a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden light before he could focus on the trail again, but when he could see clearly he was genuinely shocked by what awaited him. The trail led from his feet to an altar at the centre of the room, where a naked man lay a few inches off the ground. He had short, dark green hair and tanned skin, but he was practically crucified; his limbs were splayed out as if he was being drawn and quartered. Large stone spikes pierced the back of his thighs. Curved rocky hooks dug into his chest just below his ribs, and loops of stone wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Not only could he not free himself from his imprisonment, but if he even slight slackened the tension in his muscles, the sharp stones would tear him open.

Dark red blood oozed from the man's wounds and rolled down the various metal protrusions. When they hit the base of the altar they transformed into a dark mist that floated to the room's ceiling and seemed to pass through it. The Crusader wondered what caused the blood to turn to gas and squinted at the altar to get a closer look; he realised quickly that the stone beneath the captive was exceptionally hot. Not only was not the man being held prisoner, he was being tortured!

The Crusader gripped his staff tightly and ran across the room. When he reached the altar, he delivered one solid blow with his staff that caused it to shatter into dozens of pieces. The prisoner groaned loudly as he fell onto the cold stone floor. Jake rushed to his side to deliver any aid that he could, but by the time he got down beside the man he was already sitting upright and scowling.

"Are you okay, sir?" the Crusader asked.

"I have been tormented for longer than I can recall," the man replied. "I will live, but I doubt I will ever be 'okay' again."

"My name is the Crusader," Jake revealed. "Who kept you here?" He realised how stupid the question was as soon as he spoke. It was obviously the red knight.

"I do not know," the captive answered. "He wore red armour, but I cannot recall anything beyond that. My memory has been distorted by my captor. I can remember only my imprisonment, and the magickal abilities he exploited."

"You can use magick?" Jake helped the captive to his feet. "Me too. What's your name?"

"I can sense the magickal energy in your weapons and armour," the man said. "My name is Rine. We must leave quickly, before my enemy finds us."

"Right," the Crusader agreed. "How do we do that?"

"I can cast a spell that will transport us out of this dimension and back to your own," Rine told him. "However, the purpose of the altar you destroyed was to allow the captor to drain my magickal energies through my blood. I will need access to your power if we are to escape."

Jake had to think about it. He did not know the man at all. For all he knew, 'Rine' would take his power and use it to destroy him... and he had come looking for the red knight. In fact, the red knight's trail had led to Rine. Maybe it was a trap? Maybe Rine was the red knight, trying to gain his power?

"Stop."

Jake started as he recognised the red knight's voice. He turned and some him at the opening to the chamber, his face expressionless.

"You should not have followed me here," the knight said. "I allowed you time to become a worthy adversary, to have at least a chance of defeating me in fair combat. Now that you have discerned the path to my dimension, I cannot allow you to leave. You must not be allowed to lead others here." He paused for a moment. "Your magickal energies exceed those of my former captive. He will be destroyed, and you will take his place."

The knight moved his fingers too quickly for the Crusader to follow, and a ball of coruscating blue energy left his hand, headed straight for Rine. The weakened man threw up his arms and made his own incantation, which erected a disc of semi-transparent green energy that absorbed the blue sphere.

"Now, Crusader..." Rine said. "Let me use your power, that we might escape!"

Jake nodded. He reached out with his right hand and allowed Rine to grip his glove. The green-haired man began to softly mutter something, and the green disc faded to be replaced with a green pentagram surrounding Rine and the Crusader.

"Kurai-ken!" the red knight shouted. Jake turned his head in time to see a shower of blue mist obscure the red knight's hand. When it faded, the knight was carrying a long katana with a black blade and a dark red hilt. He raised his hand and threw it hard at the point where Rine and the Crusader touched. Rine yanked on Jake's arm, trying to move it from harm's way, and the blade instead struck and sheared off the shield-disc attached to the Crusader's right glove. The magickal connection was broken; the energy the Crusader quickly faded... but Rine, and the pentagram beneath him, seemed frozen.

"He has been separated from the source of his power too abruptly. He will remain in that state until he is re-powered."

The Crusader knew he would not be able to make contact with Rine again until the knight was out of the picture. He swung his staff high above his head, turned, and began to charge and his attacker. One step, two - and he was flung hard against the wall. He did not even see the knight gesture, but he realised the knight was too powerful. He could not defeat him, unless...

Rine had said he could sense the power within his equipment. Maybe contact with that would be enough to allow him to complete his spell. The knight was staring at Rine. If Jake could just move a little bit... get close enough to Rine that the knight couldn't stop him in time...

He dragged himself along the ground, hoping against hope that the knight would not turn and see him. When he was as close as he felt he could get, he readied his staff like a javelin. He would only get one shot - and, thankfully, one shot was all he needed. The staff pierced the air quickly, too quickly for the knight to stop it, and cut across Rine's outstretched arm. The momentary connection was enough and the spell was completed. The green pentagram turned to blue mist, and Rine faded from view.

"He has escaped," the knight said. Jake noticed that his enemy's voice betrayed no emotion, save for an obvious sense of urgency when he summoned his black blade. When anyone else would be furious, the knight seemed to remain calm and logical. He flicked his wrist and an orb of yellow energy left his body and surrounded the katana, which slowly floated back to him. The Crusader raised his own staff, anticipating another attack.

"Don't be foolish," the knight said. He moved his fingers once more and the same magickal tendrils that had already forced the Crusader to submit emerged again. His body wracked with pain, Jake dropped the staff - and another energy sphere brought that to the knight as well. "Where you took away one power source, you will become the next." Both blades disappeared amid more blue mist as the knight raised both hands above his head. "Sura garo, nii giingi."

Before the Crusader could get to his feet, large stone pieces shot up from the ground and surrounded his body. By the time he could blink he was completely trapped and he felt pressure as piercing rock hooks, unable to penetrate his armour, smothered it instead. A few moments later, he felt weak. His magickal energy, he knew, was being extracted. He did not know enough magick to free himself, and where he might have been able to use pure, unfocussed magickal power to blast his way out as he had in the past, that was out of the question with his power being drained.

He would remain a captive until Rine or anyone else could free him. He just hoped that rescuing was the right thing... that he hadn't used his one shot to make the biggest - and last - mistake of his life...

NEXT: Eternity Guard #1!

November 8th, 2007