by T5 and thedoctor
The shifting of realities was only in their minds, Turkish Stringfellow realized. A magic force had taken them into its gaping mouth and swallowed them whole. An evil presence could be felt. The source, perhaps?
He widened his aura to look for his teammates and found among them a staggering Naecken, who seemed determined to reach the dark figure in the center.
He decided to root the team in reality, and as his powers were very much grounded in pure reality, he found Mother Nature, and the mountain on which they were actually fighting, and filtered the evil magic out of the perceptions of the team.
The arena was replaced by the mountain. First there was a mountain, then there wasn't, then there was.
Dirk Bell had suspected something was amiss from the very beginning. He didn't have enough faith in the human race to believe that world peace had been achieved, especially in just a matter of months. He'd been right. It was all some parlor trick to catch the team off guard. But he had been ready and was willing to throw himself into the fire again.
Just as he was about to enter the fray, the pain returned. Whatever "magic" that had gotten rid of it was no longer working. Once again, the gunslinger found it hard to stand and stay conscious. His body collapsed onto the floor like a sack of rocks. His limbs went numb and limp.
Yet, there was something different about the state that he had entered. His body was paralyzed, as though it was asleep. But he was conscious. He heard everything that went on around him. Even weirder, though his eyes were closed, Dirk could see what was happening. He was totally aware of his surroundings and what was going on.
It had happened. Somehow the thing that he feared most had happened. He had become helpless. There were many emotions and sensations that Dirk had no problem facing. The feeling of being alone was no problem to him because that is what he was most of the time and how he liked it. He didn't care if anyone liked him or not. Why bother on worrying about how a person you really don't care about or spend any time with thinks of you? But helplessness was something he couldn't deal with.
Dirk had always been capable of taking care of himself and others. That was what he knew best. That was how he defined himself. He was independent and beyond anyone's assistance. In the middle of every mix-up or throw-down within a fifty mile radius, that was Dirk Bell. But now, the man who wouldn't back out of a fight with Lucifer himself, couldn't even stand on his own. He laid on the ground like a burnt-out cigarette butt. That pain was harsher than any the lizard man Knell could ever have inflicted upon him.
Kalunga saw the struggling Naecken approach Mr. Smith, so she used her newfound abilities to conjure a stone trident that rose from the ground and caught Naecken straight in the gaping wound on his chest and carried him upward. It reached thirty feet, and Naecken hung limp, without moving a limb, at the top. She laughed, a power-mad laugh that sent all the animals on La Perdita searching for cover.
Below the mountain, the authorities had gathered the local militia, police and some rescue workers, in case something dreadful happened. People watched the fight with a perverse sense of sadness for the combatants but at the same time thinking the whole event looked cool, with its weird characters that were almost godlike with their presence. A biblical event in modern times.
Realizing this, Kalunga rubbed the ions of the atmosphere together and created a local storm, with lightning and all.
Stringfellow looked at the challenge and asked for a counter wind. And thus the struggle reached a new level. A deadly game had begun.