[center][img]http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs49/i/2009/219/1/8/WWE___CM_punk_encre_de_chine_by_the_evil_legacy.jpg[/img][img]http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2014/352/a/2/wings_of_horus_by_johnsonting-d8a9j4e.jpg[/img][/center] What is Strength? What is Power? Is it the ability to force others to bend their knee. or perhaps to subjugate those you hate? Maybe, but strength comes in many forms, the strength to uphold your beliefs to victory, to blend with your ambition to rise above your rivals, of to force yourself out of comfort. Even the weakest of beasts has the strength to become mighty, it is up to them to decide if they will use it to become powerful and legend. [s] [/s] It wasn't everyday you woke up half naked in a fetal position being scrubbed by a nurse. Franklin would have counted himself lucky, the nurse was attractive enough, if she wasn't currently wiping his ass clean of fecal matter in a small tub. The two met eyes silently, eyes growing wide and faces blushing. The strange pressure in his lower body disappeared and was replaced with pain in his head, as the nurse began screaming. Two more nurses, and two police officers burst through the door, receiving the full moon salute for their troubles. The nurses, a man and two women, recovered quickly however, bringing towels and a hospital gown for Franklin to wear. He was the escorted to his room by the two officers, both comedic looking men with doughnut-bellies that waddled slightly as they walked. Franklin himself hobbled slightly, having been on I.V. and non solid food for a year. As he entered the room, he found a single sharp dressed man sitting next to his bed. "Good morning, Mr. McDuffie. I hear you've had an... interesting morning wake-up call" the man greeted good naturedly as he got up to shake Franklin's hand. He was a man of average height and build, a bit old with medium-length, wiry, silver hair. The main distinguishing mark was the man's sideburns that would make even Martin VanBuren blush. The hand was a rough hand, like sand paper or a cats tongue if it was dry. "Speaking of cats, Franklin thought idly as he weakly grasped the man's hand, "his sideburns make him look like a cat. Who the hell keeps sideburns like that anymore?" "Now, Mr. McDuffie," The older man continued, "I understand you were, ahhh... assaulted by a former acquaintance of your, correct?" Franklin nodded in silence, looking down at his slippered feet. He knew where this was going already. "Well, Mr.McDuffie, I believe that, ahh... you could use some protection correct? The city police would be glad to provide it if you ahh, provide for us as well. You know, scratch my back and I yours?" [s] [/s] Franklin looked around his new apartment, on the opposite side of the city from his old one. It was near midnight now, and the bed was looking quite enticing. As he fumbled towards the bed, his vision began to cloud and he could hear voices in his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, images began to flood his head. There were a group of winged humans, and each appeared in flashing images. "Brother, what are you doing? We have been called to our lord's side." A female voice ringed in his ears, like the fanfare of brass trumpets signalling victory. "Come brother, let us Spar! After all, if i can't even defeat you, what use is my drive?" Another voice spoke, like water against a cliff, pounding relentlessly until the rock eroded away. "Brother, he beckons. We are to assist his son in restraining the traitor." Another voice, feminine and soft, having a reverberating timber that the other voices lacked like a typhoon wind restrained by will. Finally, the images faded away leaving Franklin in a dark void alone and cold. He wasn't sure what happened, and became even more confused as a bright light flashed before him. Stepping out of the light, a armored figure strode towards him. His armor was well crafted plate, fashioned into a breastplate and layered pauldrons. However the distinguishing marks of the figures were the winged closed helm, and the feather-like lamallar plates that resembled feathers. [i]"Greetings Host," A final voiced emerged, "I see that you are well. I must say, the sight of you is quite disappointing."[/i] "What?" Franklin replied. [i]"You are weak. That is all."[/i] Franklin was speechless, and slightly angry at the comment. "Who the hell are you!?" [i]"...I do not know."[/i] The figure replied, "However, I know this. You are weak and unworthy, and I am ashamed to be associated with you."