derw

Chapter One: Crazy Eye the Dark

It was a cold and eerie night. There was no moon in the silent sky, and frigid air swept across the land. The

barren land, located on the ruins of a place formerly known as Mexico, had been abandoned and left to rot,

vanishing into myth. Sea had swallowed most of the inland and it was a dangerous place. In one corner of

the deserted land, three figures explored the Zanbai Jungle. It was a vast jungle, full of twists and turns, and

was rumored to hide a great treasure. Foolhardy adventurers has strayed in, but they became a victim of

their own greed. There may have been no treasure, but it was a prison. The lead figure, the keeper.

His name was Crazy Eye.

He was a figure out of a nightmare, bearing only one real eye. His other eye had been destroyed in war,

and it had been replaced by a robotic, red one, connected by a metal top that covered the left side of his

head. It was murmured among those who had seen Crazy Eye that looking into the red, glowing robot eye

could seal one into depths they could not return from. He was dressed in pure robotic armor, for it had also

been terribly scarred in the war. His face looked horrible­­it was pale, almost transparent, and fleshy, with

faint burn marks littered across it. The two figures behind him, Umbra and Kurlak, were some of his highest

soldiers, taught in the way of his personal cold art of war. Umbra wore a purely black cloak. Its hood

covered her face. Only the ones close to her knew what her face looked like. Kurlak was an agile and fit

dark killer, dressed in green. He had gleaming eyes and an attitude to spare. His only weakness was that

he was very gullible. Crazy Eye padded onwards, beckoning Umbra and Kurlak. He pointed left. Crazy Eye

was trekking this jungle for one reason.

The Doom.

The Doom was a rogue Sentai, a normally docile lizard like creature that towered humans, that nearly

destroyed the world. It had been defeated by the hand of Crazy Eye. Crazy Eye was excellent at the arts of

weapons, and the Doom had devastating powers. It had been a miracle, but Crazy Eye had his own

intentions. The world had wronged him. Now he would free the Doom to unleash it's wrath upon the entire

world. Crazy Eye finally caught something in the darkness. It was a long, bone numbingly cold lake. Kurlak

dipped a toe in, and instantly recoiled.

"We don't have to go through this, do we?" he whimpered. Crazy Eye simply smiled, a cold, vicious grin.

Saying nothing, he pointed at the pathway that ran along the lake, and silently slipped in the water, barely

noticing the cold. The lake was shallow, but it got deeper as it went on. Crazy Eye seemed to float while

drifting slowly through the water, all the while analyzing the deeps. Umbra and Kurlak trudged along the

path, following the swimming Crazy Eye. The lake went on seemingly endlessly. Crazy Eye continued to

drift along, and finally came to a clearing in the water, and very wide. Crazy Eye looked ahead. Another

path, but it was several meters away swimming. It was worth it. The water grew shallower and shallower,

until it finally crossed the border between the water and the path. Crazy Eye looked ahead into the

darkness. He trod forwards, then picked up into a run, and grew faster and faster until no one could

distinguish him from a speeding shadow from himself.

Crazy Eye finally slowed down at the entrance of an old building, and looked up. It was the size of a twenty-
five story building, and it was cloaked in orange. It was cracked and aged. The only windows showed

nothing but darkness inside. Strangely, the entrance had no doors, allowing the night to seep in like several

twilight snakes. Crazy Eye slipped in, Umbra and Kurlak closely following him. Several paths sprouted

around, and a staircase was a few feet ahead of the group. He looked up at the stairs that led far up. He

blinked. Suddenly, he darted up the stairs in a flash, leaving Kurlak and Umbra behind. His cybernetic

armor had gifted him with strength and speed far from that of normal humans. Within a few moments, Crazy

Eye was already at the top floor, leaving Umbra and Kurlak to climb. Crazy Eye walked straight forward. He

came to a door. It was nothing special, made out of bamboo. Crazy Eye carefully pushed the door. He

looked in, and he got nothing of what he suspected.

Carnage bathed the walls. The room was rather wide, and corpses littered the room, their eyes wide with

surprise. Blood spread the corners of the room like a wet, scarlet blanket. Some of the carcasses had been

crushed, others torn in half. They all had one distinguishing feature;

Claw marks.

Colossal claw marks.

They were still bleeding, so it was clear their death was recent. Crazy Eye's face appeared astonished, and

he dashed through the room. Finally, he came to the end of the room. A pale faced man, still alive,

crouched in the corner. Crazy Eye's real eye danced angrily, and he dashed and picked the pale faced man

by the neck. Then he spoke. His voice was a deep hiss, enough to penetrate a full grown man.

"What happened?"

The pale faced man stammered, unclear what to say.

"Tell me!" Crazy Eye roared.

"T­the D­d­doom... i­it escaped!" he managed to spit out, trying to avert his gaze from the red eye.

Crazy Eye's red eye flashed in extreme anger. A gleam of hatred seemed to shoot out of Crazy Eye like a

bullet. "I left a twoscore of Silverguards to guard this specific room, and over half the Silverblaze army to

guard this entire place! How in Hells name did it escape!?" He glared the pale faced man furiously, writhing

inside. The pale faced man could not say anything more. Crazy Eye dropped him to the ground and turned,

facing at the wall. Crazy Eye sighed.

"I have no room for fools... spectacular failures, if you will, in my army." His voice was cool, but cold and

threatening as well. He suddenly turned towards the pale faced man, who had got up but was shaking

uncontrollably. Crazy Eye pulled out a gray gun, fizzing with electricity. This was his gun of choice, called

the Lightning Pistol. It fired intense blasts of electricity at its targets, and spikes decorated it's front.

"Die." he growled.

A blast of lightning erupted from the gun, going straight through the man. The pale faced man collapsed to

the ground, and spasms erupted in his body. Crazy Eye stood, watching him sadistically as the man's body

jerked and convulsed violently, shaking and dancing, electricity erupting from his hair and mouth. The pale

faced man's eyes seemed to burn out, but he continued jerking with extreme violence, like a hound shaking

a piglet. Letting his gun cool off first, Crazy Eye charged up his gun a second time, then zapped him again

with cruel intentions. The jerks suddenly stopped, and one shockwave traveled through the man's body,

throwing it up. The man, or what was the man, collapsed burnt, one eye half open without light, staring

directly at the ground. He was dead. At the same instant, Kurlak and Umbra entered the room, not at all

astonished by their commander's cruelty.

"What are you looking at? Get to work and clean this up." Crazy Eye snarled at the duo. Instantly, they

rushed inside the room, and started they pulled out their own guns to start destroying the corpses and

clearing the blood. Crazy Eye walked away. Then he looked up. "A new era will dawn soon," he hissed to

himself. No one noticed him silently leap out the window, landing on the leaves below. They crumpled

harshly under his massive feet, and the soil and dirt retreated.

"Yes... my era." He began the trek to Silverblaze, spitting with contempt on the leaves.

Darkness hung among the lonely out grounds of Crazy Eye's hideout. The gatekeeper, Spearhand, stood

motionless, afraid. The sounds of the night were catching up to him, and the familiar, friendly roar of the

inside was nowhere to be heard. Suddenly, the shadows stirred. Spearhand held the spear firmly, as not to

let himself off guard.

"W­who goes there?" he stammered to the night. A shadowy figure approached him, holding a staff. His

shape was hidden by the shadows, and his staff blended perfectly with the starless, and moonless night.

Spearhand held the spear across the entrance, feeling a new confidence.

"You shall not pass, intruder. Go back, or­"

He was suddenly cut off by a huge hand grasping his spear. A spin knocked Spearhand to his knees, and

the spear was wrenched from his grasp with a powerful jerk. It disappeared into the shadows, but

Spearhand heard it collapse woodenly a few feet away. The figure sighed deeply.

"Spearhand, it's me, Rigguz." Spearhand instantly looked up and recognized his fiery eyes boring into him.

"S­so sorry, Commander Rigguz!" he stammered. The fire vanished completely from Rigguz's eyes as he

rolled them, and helped him up. Spearhand looked at Rigguz.

"Y­you're not going to kill me?" he asked, stuttering.

"Of course not." came the reply. "You think too much Crazy Eye. I've learned that if you treat your soldiers

badly, they desert you, or they die from your harsh ways. Come, there won't be any trouble tonight." he

explained.

"If you say, Commander..." Spearhand said nervously. "That is, unless you want trouble?" Rigguz touched

him with a catlike playfulness, yet Spearhand still shook. He seemed traumatized by Crazy Eye. They

walked across the Waterway, a path with fresh water flowing down it until he came to the Gates, where it

vanished into the postwar station of the Great Underground Legion. With a single push of his staff, the

gates were thrust open, and Rigguz and Spearhand walked into the base.

A twisting black hallway led to a giant door, and happy sounds filled the air. Rigguz heaved open the

towering door with little effort. Commotion roared in the Meeting Room of Crazy Eye's base. Soldiers

bashed wine together, drinking themselves stupid. Some staggered around tables, incoherently yelling at

the top of their lungs. Others simply sipped wine, watching the drunk soldiers with amusement. Either way,

they were excited about the coming party.

WHAM!

The door flew open. The voice of Rigguz rung out.

"Silence, please."

Instantly, the soldiers froze, all except for one extremely drunk one. He staggered up to Rigguz, twitching.

"You..." he said, slurring.

He turned and vomited. One of his pupils seemed to roll about in his eye. This particular skinny soldier was

known as Hibba. He was a puny thing, even smaller than Spearhand. He had no skills, no combat skills,

nothing. His only excelling point was to drink himself to the point where his brainly functions were

annihilated. He turned back to Rigguz. "Come on, you... Hic, want to... fight? Hic!" He belched, and the

soldiers had no chance to stop him as he clumsily and slowly attempted to slug him in the stomach. Rigguz

flipped him on his back, and put his staff on his stomach as to assure he would not get back up for "another

round," as the Silverblazers called it.

"Thankfully, this was the only one this time. If there's one thing I hate more, it's a drunken Silverblazer." He

shook his head.

"Redflash, take this one to the medic." he instructed, pointing at a red and silver armored soldier. The

scowling Hibba was pulled out of the room, and from the volley of curses shot out from the room he was

obviously none to happy about it. Rigguz held his staff for silence.

Rigguz Verdanse was a medium sized figure, and was Crazy Eye's right hand man. He, along with Kurlak,

Umbra, and Redflash, were the only ones Crazy Eye respected as not just soldiers, but friends. They went

a long way back, him and Crazy Eye. He wore a fancy black hat with a yellow feather of a tropical bird on it.

He held a staff, and a sparkling silver cutlass was tucked into a small sheath. Light glinted off the brown and

gray uniform he wore. His face was not at all like Crazy Eye. It was stable, and young looking. He actually

looked human. He was nothing like Crazy Eye, as he knew he treated his soldiers no better than rotting

multicolored molerats. This way, he kept his army in check behind his back. He could be a brute though. In

battle, he was merciless, always hunting down his enemy until it was dead, and was obedient to Crazy Eye

to the end.

"I've heard there has been a lot of trouble from you recently. You all know the upcoming party." he said, with

fake sadness in his voice. He pulled a dramatic face. The soldiers looked among themselves.

Rigguz's voice suddenly became more harsh. "And that is why ALL of you are..."

He froze. The soldiers did too, and for a split second there was complete silence.

"...are going to the party." Rigguz finished.

Leaning on his staff, he accepted the wild cheers of drunken soldiers and otherwise sober Silverguards and

soldiers.

"Enough, enough." he said after several minutes of cheering. "What can I say? It wouldn't be a party if it

weren't for wild ruffians as yourself. Get prepared. Don't get too drunk, and don't kill each other. Remember

that, because tomorrow is strict duty." Slowly the cheers and applause faded to silence.

"Alright then. Get back to duty." Rigguz nodded. The army broke up, splitting to the several jobs each

soldier was assigned to. The base of Crazy Eye went busy once more.

Chapter 2: Memories

My name is Rowan Stonewelle. Everything was taken from me. My family. My belongings. My life. Ever

since that bomb attack, I've had no family. I question my existence. Luck. Why I'm here. Why is there such

things? Why IS there life? So many unanswered questions...

Explosions. Ruin. Flames licking at the sky, in an eternal struggle to dominate all of its surroundings. The

sky was unnaturally red, the very color of death itself. A black void. A toddler, sitting amidst all of the

destruction. His tiny body trembled, his eyes fixed to the unknown, his little brain unable to comprehend to

destruction around him. Flames surrounded him. Charred debris and corpses fell, and planes flew above,

each with a new bomb of destruction. The toddler was hapless as fate toyed with him, ravaging him,

scarring him for life. Blood littered the scorched ground, and it sparkled gruesomely and brilliantly in the red

night.

"Mommy?" the child asked unknowingly. His father was already dead, his mother darting for him, narrowly

escaping death from flames. It all happened faintly, as though in a breeze. The child was scooped up by his

mother, and he felt himself darting through the air. Running. Flames as far as the eye could see, there was

no end to the destruction, no escape. The child wailed silently, as his mother reassured him. The child felt

himself whooshed through the air as his mother made a sudden turn. It almost seemed as it would all burst

up and consume him. Then he felt himself falling. And then darkness.

But almost instantly the child woke up, his mother trembling on his knees. The child's eyes went up. The

tallest, most sinister figure stood before him. It looked like a normal human, but the truth overshadowed the

very pits of hell. The figure knelt down, sinister eyes boring deep into the child's soul.

"Mortals. No use for mortals."

It's voice was deep, almost snakelike. It pulled out a silver spiked gun that fizzled with electricity. One finger

rested on the trigger. Instantly the mother dived in front.

"Leave my child alone, you monster." she growled. The dark figure looked at the lady. "You think you can

protect yourself. You're wrong." The mother swiped up the baby and ran like a mound of snakes were

chasing her. The figure growled, then pursued. Winding turns confused the child, and even though the

world was a fiery blur, he could focus his eyes on the figure. A sudden turn marked the end of the chase,

and the child hit the dirty ground. Confused, he tried to stand up, but his frail legs would not support him,

and he collapsed. There he he saw his mother conflicting with the figure. A hard kick to the mother's face

sent her flying to the ground. The hostile figure laughed and stepped forwards. He wasn't prepared for the

sudden counter attack. Though it burnt her hand, the mother had picked up a fistful of ember ­ and flung it

into the man's face. They hit his left eye, burning it through and causing the man to fall, clutching his eye.

Roaring in pain, he collapsed. The child could only watch as the figure's anger picked up, and he advanced

on the child's mother. He pulled out a blue sword, made of pure plasma that shone unusually in the red sky

and inferno. It cut right through her hands. Blood sprayed onto the ground, child, and on the figure. The

mother collapsed, stunned and bleeding. The figure forcefully grabbed her, and her screams were like

music to his ears. A maniacal smile crept onto his features, and he forced her into the fire. The child could

see the shady outlines of the two, as his mother writhed and struggled, her screams of agony piercing the

night. The struggles slowly stopped and the mother was tossed to the ground. The boy would never forget

it. Her faced was charred, eyeless, and burnt. It smoked and glowed, the flesh twisted into unimaginable

positions. It was just long enough for the fire to suddenly pick up. The figure was useless as flames

wrapped around him. He spat, and leaped off, as flames licked up and blocked view of him. A swirling void

of red and orange surrounded the boy. Then everything went blurred. It all seemed to be growing further

and further away. It all vanished with a crack, then darkness hit.

Rowan woke suddenly. He was back in reality. A throbbing headache pounded at him like a mallet. He held

his head, and turned over.

"Rowan." a voice beckoned him. Startled, Rowan whipped around, and clumsily fell off the side of the bed.

He lifted his head from the dusty floor, dazed. He found himself staring up into the face of a large man with

short brown hair.

"Gorbo? What are you doing here?" he asked the figure, still half dazed. Gorbo Jones, the old, but capable

leader of his Resistance offered his hand and helped Rowan up. "Well then, soldier, you ready for another

day?" Gorbo asked. Rowan nodded. Rowan was a boy of 19, still in training. He had light, blue eyes like

twin sprites, and his spiked hair was black. His entire family had been killed in a bombing, and Gorbo had

found him when he was still young. What was most distinguishable was the long, permanent scar on his

right arm.

Gorbo looked out of his room and out into the hallway. The rooms were nothing special, a bed with a large

blanket, a clock above the doorway, and a glassy, crystal window. Several rooms littered the hall., and a

door at the end of the hall led to the Main Room. Gorbo looked at Rowan.

"You ready?" Rowan gave him a nod, and they walked off to the doorway. The Main Room was a very busy

place ­ glass pathways led to split paths, elevators went down, up, to separate rooms, and the glass door

led outside. The place was massive, it was located in the Northern Unions, in the ruins of a place formerly

known as Canada and the United States of America. Most of the world had since been taken over by a

massive... something. Some whispered rumors amongst ruined countries, a Sentai. One thing was the

certain though. It's name...

Was simply the Devourer.

The two countries, realizing the potential threat, had merged together to create a massive country, known

as the Northern Unions. A good amount of time passed, and most of the colossal country had been

dominated. Several small groups had been created to oppose the threats. Gorbo had founded his army as

one of the groups.

"Never gets old." Rowan nodded his head. Trudging towards the massive glass doors, he heaved them

open and went outside. It was an arid, flourishing forest. Sunlight flowed in and life exploded in the emerald

grass the soldiers walked in. It was a hot day, not quite blazing, but definitely not cool. Rowan saw his best

friend, Mike, or Michael Schubert, playing in the grass. Walking over, Mike immediately pounced on him like

a leopard. He was Rowan's age, and had sleek, flat blonde hair. He was rarely seen not smiling, and made

a joy out of all that came. Rowan chuckled as he fell, cushioned by the soft grass.

"Hey." Rowan greeted. Mike helped him up. "Hayo!" he shouted with glee. Rowan made a silence gesture

with his hand. "Oh shush. You keep screaming like that, all the birds will fly from their nests. So whats

happening?" Mike shrugged.

"Oh, disassembling some sticks, wacking some dandelions, making a list of stupids and potential future

targets." Why?" Before Rowan could continue, another friend of his interrupted. Crystal Sheve, the medic in

training, stepped between him and Mike. Rowan was startled.

"Uh? Oh, Crystal, it's you." Crystal laughed. "Of course. What are you lollipops doing?" Rowan blushed

slightly, and Mike simply rolled his eyes. "Oh nothing. Want to join us?" Crystal grinned. "Sure! But do

remember, preparations for our first mission is set!" She gleefully hopped at the thought. Rowan nodded.

"Yeah... I almost forgot." Crystal puckered her lips in curiosity. "This is the big day and you almost forgot?

Why?" Rowan shrugged and looked and Mike. "This isn't training anymore. Less free time, and for once, a

real possibility of dying. But other than that, it's going to be a blast!" Crystal hopped joyfully. "Alright then!"

The three continued the chat for a while, so long they didn't realize the sun beginning to set. And as they

thought war was going to be nothing more than big playtime... no one knew of the threat approaching.

Chapter 3: Ambush

The spiked, metal wheels of the Boar vehicles advanced through the mud and dirt, with not so much as a

road to drive on. All of them had deteriorated since Mexico had been obliterated. Half an hour, Silverblazers

drove the armed war machines through the rough ground, traction poor but spirits high. Finally, after what

seemed centuries, they finally glanced the lights of the massive bar, called Guns 'N Glory. It seemed to

beckon them, and like flies to a lantern, they drove mindlessly towards the bar. It was obscure, hidden by

the massive Zanbai Jungle, but regular customers included Crazy Eye and his army. Finally the whirring

wheels stopped spinning, and the engines seemed to groan as the Boars halted. Crazy Eye was the first to

rise.

"Alright, you rotted carcasses, come on!" he yelled towards the anxious Silverblazers. A massive roar of

excitement rose from the crowd like billions of balloons. They leaped out of the vehicles and charged

towards the bar. The glass doors were heaved open as the soldiers barged into the bar. Hundreds piled,

hollering and yelling. Rigguz stepped forwards, to the bartender.

"Seats for... eh, the entire Silverblaze army." The bartender, Charlie and Karri, nodded. "Come on in!" they

shouted in unison. The large crowd took a seat, ordering drinks at a speedy rate. Wine, beer, champagne,

ale, and the sort was chugged down by Silverblazers across the massive structure. Hibba, who had been

bouncing in anticipation, got his hands on handfuls of alcohol. He let out a massive cheer, and swiftly

quaffed his refreshments. Before long, he was a stuttering mess, slobbering and downing his beverages

noisily and clumsily. In another corner of the room, Kurlak downed drinks as fast as he could.

"Yeehaw! This is the life!" Umbra watched with no emotion, simply pushing her complimentary drink

towards a Silverblazer, which was indiscriminately slurped by a Silverblazer. Rigguz watched in amusement

as several soldiers swigged their drinks as fast as lightning. He casually sipped his wine, savoring the taste.

Crazy Eye, beside Redflash, drunk faster than Kurlak and Hibba combined. He pounded wildly at the table,

roaring and screaming.

"My drinks! Give them! GIVE THEM!" His system had rendered him a special kind of drunk, his senses

dulled and his mind seething. He would only drink, drink, drink until the party was over. More drinks were

passed, and in a few seconds, tossed to the ground, emptied. One of the drunken soldiers sneakily

attempted to slip one of his drinks like an idiot. His neck was snapped and he dropped limply to the floor,

never to drink again. No one was surprised; there was always bound to be some fatalities. Meanwhile,

Hibba drunkenly dragged himself to Rigguz's direction. He let out a loud burp, drawing Rigguz's attention.

"Oh, please. You again?" He slowly armed his staff. Hibba let out a complete bunch of babble, not able to

be distinguished from actual language, then let out a sound that sounded like someone pushed a red hot

iron stick into a toad. He stepped towards Rigguz.

"You! We.. we... hic, are not don.... hic, with our... hic... thingy. Hic!" The words sounded as if someone was

talking while choking on a needle. He raised his fist, then attempted to punch Rigguz. He didn't even flinch,

for Hibba's fist collided with an iron bar, not even close to his target. He let out a scream, though he

sounded like he was gargling acid. His tongue lolled out, saliva dribbling out like rain, then his eyes rolled

behind his head and he collapsed. Rigguz simply turned as if the event had never happened. Wild roars

continued to erupt from the crowd, and for an entire hour the sounds persisted. Crazy Eye had drunk so

much, everyone was now an entire meter away from him. His flesh eye was as red as his cybernetic eye,

and he mindlessly shot everything with his Lightning Pistol. One of the bolts nearly hit Charlie, though he

was luckier than some of the other Silverblazers. Everything was good as beer... for the time being.