MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle

Lvl 7 (142/70) -> Lvl 8 (76/80)

Word Count: 906 words

New Strength- Mutation Resistance

Owing to Geralt's history of taking (alchemically sanitized) monster parts into himself for power prior to Galeem's combining of the worlds, he has now gained a sort of resistance to the negative effects of Spirit Fusion. When Fusing with a Spirit, Geralt reduces the effects of any weakness they may impose. Fears become general aversions, and damage vulnerabilities are reduced in severity, for example.

It was time, Geralt saw, as the other Seekers from Blue Team began gathering. Giving his swords and crossbow one final check, he stood, towering over the others. It was still a bit strange, especially after the thankfully-short lived change he'd experienced aboard the Maw, to tower over others so. He was getting more used to it, but it was still extremely strange. Some of his agility had suffered, though he hoped that as he grew acclimated to the new form, he'd be able to compensate for the differences. He assumed that his skin was thicker, and his new claws made it so that if he was disarmed, he was still a threat.

Shelving that line of thinking for when he had the time to properly get used to being a 10-foot tall unicorn Witcher who could summon a giant cannon platform from the sea, Geralt joined the rest of the Seekers and began the descent into the heart of this godsforsaken place.

Carefully watching Nadia as she prepared to dispatch the first of the slug creatures that they came across, he frowned when she paused, but as he caught up to see what was wrong, did the same for a moment.

The cavern that opened up before them was massive, and absolutely teeming with flora that was, in all honesty, quite beautiful to behold. He allowed himself a moment of appreciation, before a few words spilled from his lips. "Such a beautiful bounty, hidden behind a repulsive antechamber. It seems somebody didn't want to be disturbed." Turning his gaze to the worshippers, Geralt hummed. "Best not disturb them. If they're willing to let us go by, might as well do the same. Might avoid a fight that way, as well. All things considered, I'd rather not deal with all that."

As the group carried on, Geralt kept an eye on the assorted creatures prostrated in reverence. Despite what he'd said, he still half-expected an ambush to spring any moment. Their goal had been confirmed to be at the end of the cave, the same direction these things were all pointed in prayer. It made his hair stand on end, and his blood chill just a bit. Whatever was awaiting them, it was able to do this to all manner of creatures. Either through fear, respect, or outright worship. It reminded him of the village in Skellige that worshipped a Leshen and used it as part of their rite of passage. It would seem that Galeem had chosen wisely for his Guardian.

Oddly enough, though, he noticed Bowser break off from the group for a moment to grab a few of the fruits from the cave and start eating. Blinking a few times before admitting to himself that he could use something to eat, and fast, Geralt joined him in gathering some, his oversized claws making it slightly awkward, but still manageable. Putting a few into his mouth, he bit down and sighed in relief at the taste. "Not terrible..." He grabbed a few more and chowed down, sating himself somewhat.

Passing through, Geralt did not relax, only breaking from his watch by the sight of the terminus of the cave- and the impossible vista that replaced it. Nadia was right, this made no sense. Abhorrent creatures were one thing. Even the strange, controlled storm had some basis in reality as he knew it- but unless they'd passed through some kind of invisible portal that perfectly transported them with no side effects, they'd gone down into a cave only to find themselves at a beach with a sky above them. Impossible, indeed.

The corpses covering the beach triggered an instinct in Geralt. Just by seeing such a concentration of corpses, his body was preparing to fight in anticipation of Necrophages of all sorts. That was enough to break him from the wondering of how this place existed as it did, and his hand went over his shoulder to draw Silver. Whatever form the Guardian took, they had to kill it. There would be no peace in this place.

But the corpse that was still moving gave him pause, blade in hand. As it's stomach revolted and bulged, Geralt watched with caution. After a moment, when the pile of viscera burst from it, Geralt sighed in realization. They were witnessing the birth of a monster.

As the Orphan of Kos stood, Geralt's face steeled and he drew back his sword, looking at the others. Nadia had paused, eyes glistening as she listened to the Guardian weeping. Sakura let out a few words in what he thought might be sympathy for the thing. He didn't disagree with them, and were the circumstances different, Geralt knew in his heart that he would be more sympathetic to its plight. The tears in his eyes, which he himself barely noticed, felt more like the seasonal allergies than tears of sadness. How...odd.

But, the circumstances being what they were, demanded that Geralt make the Sign of Quen as he turned back to the Guardian before them, pausing as he saw Bowser had taken the opportunity to start casually approaching the thing. "Boss?" He called out, carefully approaching. "What are you doing?"

Looking between Bowser and the Guardian, he sighed. "We should at least try and take advantage of the situation. Take up tactical positions. Were you just going to walk up and punch it?" Geralt asked, completely missing Bowser's actual plan.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle

Lvl 7 (131/70) -> +10 Collab Lvl 7 (142/70)

Word Count: 421 words

The fact that the entirety of Blue Team was about a literal second from arbitrary time-based death was...unsettling. Not quite existentially horrifying, but it wasn't a pleasant sensation to realize that they'd not only taken the longest of the three groups, but that they'd worried everybody so deeply. Geralt wasn't sure if these suckers were growing on him, or if it was the influence of the Harbor Demon that he'd fused with, but he gave a short bow of his head and apologized. "That creature was...frustratingly clever. Did not of its fighting for itself, but made it fight waves of constructs made from the water itself. If we weren't fighting for our lives, they would have seemed more beautiful." But, they were fighting for their lives, so the damned things were just annoying.

As the Seekers sought their rest while Blazermate and Kamek patched up the groups' wounds, Geralt tried to do a small bit of meditation, separating from the group just a bit. However, he found that doing so was nigh impossible. Even trying to settle into a proper state of mind was eluding him. Whether that was from lingering adrenaline, or it was some characteristic of this godforsaken place, he couldn't tell, but after a few minutes of futility, Geralt stood up and started stretching instead.

He'd missed a few conversations that the others were having, but other than Bowser explaining the situation with Master Hand (thus causing him to miss out on some info about Bowser's past), he hadn't even noticed enough to know what kind of conversations he'd missed. In the end it wasn't of exceptional importance to Geralt, who was admittedly being a bit asocial right now, trying to keep himself sharp for the upcoming fight. The Spirits that were being fused with by people hadn't quite interested him, though he had no idea what the Spirits of the other enemies could do, he wasn't one to simply take chances without knowing what he could. The Spirits he'd bonded with were all enemies he'd at least observed directly in combat and had a decent idea of their capabilities. It wouldn't do to fuse with a Spirit and find himself any larger or less nimble. He'd already had to adjust his combat style a bit as it was, as useful as the Breaching Bastion was.

So, while the others conversed and fused with Spirits, Geralt practiced the blade. The blade maintenance, that was, carefully checking his weapons over to make sure they were in proper working order.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

As Spindle alerted the group of young men to the presence of others, Nick furrowed his brow for a moment before realizing who that likely meant, and watched the area she'd pointed to with interest. After a moment, the dirt was breached, and the other girls they'd separated from appeared. "Well that's good." Nick let out, before frowning. Doesn't really help much right now, though... He didn't say that out loud, though, not wanting to kill the mood.

He blinked a few times when Spindle mentioned her plan, then thought about it and shrugged. She knew more about this place than they did, so if she said falling didn't hurt, then they'd have to trust her. Either they died to the guards or they maybe survived the fall. The choice seemed pretty obvious to him, at least.

Before the groups managed to even re-group into one big group, they were interrupted by somebody else, another 'Warlord' apparently, bursting from the ground and chasing after Harriette, complete with a dramatic cry to the heavens. This place was definitely some sort of weird mental world, because that was cliché as all hell. That being said, the sudden attention drawn to them, as well as the influx of guards and monsters descending upon each other in some kind of horrific civil war sort of pressed the issue of 'Getting the hell out of here', so Nick followed after Barney, Spindle, and Lorenzo.

As he leapt off of the edge of the cliff, his gut dropped into his feet as he started falling. "OHHHH FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!" He yelled, cut off abruptly by the landing into the river itself, only resurfacing after a few seconds of trying to get his bearings. "NEVER AGAIN!!!" He yelled, looking up at Spindle. He would get her back for that! Crazy mirror dimension lady!

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

Nick happily took the offered arms, pushing himself to his feet while still taking deep breaths. He would admit to not paying too much attention to Spindle's introduction to the new guy, Lorenzo, but he gave the other man a grateful nod and a thumbs up while he was still trying to get his breath.

He did catch that they were headed towards the entrance of the prison, though. He nodded along, not really sure if that was the best idea, but they'd gotten along well so far with her advice, so bucking the trend now would probably just get them all killed. "Slip right under their noses, then?" He mused. As much as he'd miss the birds-eye-view guidance they'd gotten, Spindle would definitely be more noticeable up in the sky than she would down on the ground, so that part of the plan made sense to him.

Once he'd managed to mostly get into a workable condition from the exertion of his summoning, Nick nodded for the group to get moving. Part of him hated holding everybody up, but in a situation like this, being the one to get them all killed because they were slowing down for him while they snuck around would probably be more embarrassing.

Once they'd finally made it to the entrance, Nick breathed a small sigh of relief. They weren't out of the woods yet, but this was a good start-

And then he saw the giant chasm. "You gotta be shittin' me..." he breathed out, frustrated. "Get through all that just to find a giant hole in the ground? Uh, no offense." He hastily added to avoid annoying Spindle. "Just...was hoping it'd be a little easier after we got out, not...this." He said, gesturing to the canyon in front of them.

The symbolism of the fishermen on the bridge wasn't lost on Nick, though he chose not to comment on it in a rare display of self-control. He was, like the others, stumped on ideas, and that he wasn't quiet about. "Other than trying to shoot our way out, I got nothing. Even then, I don't think that's a workable idea."

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle

Lvl 7 (130/70) -> Lvl 7 (131/70)

Word Count: 479 words

Geralt, like the others, found the next part of their journey absolutely sickening. Unlike some of the others, the giant Witcher had no methods by which to avoid traipsing through the damnable lake of slug-like creatures, corpses bursting under his heavy boots. In true professional fashion, Geralt ignored both the sickening sounds and the nauseating odors that pervaded the cavern, instead directing his energy ahead and to their goal. Soon, the Guardian of this cursed place would be felled, and the Seekers could carry on in their journey.

Their arrival at the fog wall quickly proved otherwise however, with Master Hand showing his face once more. Geralt, remembering this thing from when they'd first met Link, and he joined the other Seekers in quickly blasting away at it, firing a few shots from his plasma pistol. The damned thing, of course, was shielded by some invisible barrier, no doubt the work of Galeem himself.

And now it was monologuing. Wow, that...was entirely fitting, wasn't it? Only the most insufferable bastards monologued, and this thing was definitely among those ranks. He couldn't wait to be done with this thing. Unfortunately, it would seem that this puppet of Galeem's was more than happy to play with their strings, imposing some time-based curse that afforded them a scant five minutes to slaughter and pilfer the Spirits of three chosen champions, with their deaths being the price of failure.

And it was counting down. How needlessly dramatic.

Geralt was off like a shot out of a cannon, choosing the left-front tunnel that Nadia had also gone down, trailing just behind her as the two ran. After a moment, they saw a wide, open cave, filled with water and sporting only a triangular stone platform for anybody to stand upon. Some of the others might be able to utilize the water if they had Shipgirl Spirits in them, but Geralt and Nadia were relegated to the limited area of the platform.

Once Nadia, and a moment later, Geralt, touched down, a being composed entirely of water appeared, asking if they were assassins after it specifically, or merely fools trespassing upon this land. Geralt, deciding that he did not have the time to fuck around, promptly summoned the Breaching Bastion and pointed it at the Oceanid, watching as the three orbs of water it launched transformed into several animals made of water.

"Huh. That's not something you see every day." Shrugging, Geralt placed his hand on the Bastion and shouted, "Cover your ears!" Before ordering it to fire on the Oceanid, quickly turning the rest of the guns on the hawk, whose agility might cause some issues.

That having been handled, Geralt drew his silver blade and took up a guarded stance, letting the Bastion do most of his fighting for now, and mostly fighting to prevent the enemies from reaching and damaging it.

World of Light

Gonna post this both for context and because I'll take any opportunity to post this.

@Gentlemanvaultboy

This game is on Playstation Now, as I have recently discovered.

I will be playing it because OH MY GOD YES I LOVED THIS SHIT

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle

Lvl 7 (114/70) +15 XP -> Lvl 7 (130/70)

Word Count: 661 words

The others' help came none too soon, Mirage barreling in haphazardly with weapon drawn and a shout of support, only for the semi-aquatic creature to toss a fish of all things at-and through- the Legend, revealing one of Mirage's holographic clones while the real one unleashed a burst of revolver fire into Fizz's chest. Hat Kid followed up immediately after, bouncing off of Mirage's head and perform a literally impossible feat of aerial acrobatics to strike the nimble creature, following up by hooking him with her umbrella and disappearing into the well, leaving the thing dangling and helpless.

Geralt, being a professional slayer of monsters, felt nothing but a slight resistance as his silver sword sliced through the helpless creature, it dissolving into ash while he grabbed its Spirit before it could fall.

Turning to the Judicator and Spinal, Geralt was glad to see that their battle was soundly decided on the side of their silent ally, temporary as that title may prove to be. Between his own blade and his Pokemon's attacks, Spinal had the Judicator on the ropes, quickly dispatching the massive creature and leaving its Spirit to be the second for Geralt's collection, giving the skeleton man a nod and a quick "Thank you."

As the others gathered themselves, Geralt stashed the two Spirits in one of his emptier pouches, drawing his flask of Swallow and taking a dose. Almost immediately, his wounds began to stitch themselves, and his belly felt just a bit fuller. Sure, he could have asked Kamek or Blazermate for help, but he saw that they were busy assisting Bowser in his latest hare-brained scheme, and it wasn't like he was hurting for potion anyway. He'd barely taken a sip of the stuff since he'd met them all in the Land of Adventure, owing to the various abilities his newfound allies had.

Putting the flask away, Geralt withdrew the two Spirits again, one in each hand. To the Spirit he'd grabbed from Fizz, he said, "I imagine to you, we seem like murderers and monsters, and you were just defending your home. I don't quite have the time to explain it all, but our mission is one of importance beyond that of any one place, any group of people or even nation. And we need all the help we can get. You'll be able to fight once more if you join me, and we can bring peace to this place."

Regardless of the result, he turned to the Spirit of the Judicator. "As for you, I can promise more fights. Our journey is bound to be a perilous one, and with your power I'm confident it will be just a bit more manageable. If a chance to use that blade of yours is what you want, I'm glad to give you that opportunity."

His piece said, Geralt waited for the others to gather before descending the ladder, taking a position at the front of the group to hopefully spare the more manageably-sized members the chance of an ambush. Between his armor and his bulk, he was reasonably confident he'd survive the few seconds it took to make room for the others' descent.

Thankfully, however, no ambush came. Merely a disgusting, dank grotto. As the group got its bearings, they saw the other cave off to the Eastern side of the grotto, and made their way over to observe, finding an even more horrifying place than this one or the things they'd seen above. The floor of the cavern below the balcony they'd found was littered sea slugs and spiral shells from which protruded disgusting, partially humanoid things.

A closer look at the upper floor showed that the path stretched on quite a bit, and he saw the one entrance that was absolutely covered in fog, and sighed. "And of course, we'll need to go through the fog. At least I have some Cat on me..." Geralt grumbled. This would be such great fun!

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

Nick clumsily stumbled in surprise as he saw the Shadow be absorbed in Odradek's webs, the hulking monstrosity's momentum being halted almost instantly. What gave him even more surprise was the new figure that appeared, lead pipe in hand, rushing in to help take down his Shadow with a snarky line about Nick's admittedly low-power weapon. Raising an eyebrow, he shrugged as he walked forward, wincing a bit as Lorenzo beat at the giant with his makeshift weapon. "Yeah, I don't think I really get a choice on that one."

The voice in his head didn't give him any useful hints on that one, though, so Nick figured he'd have to check in with Spindle later, see if she had any advice. For now, he had more pressing matters to deal with. Dropping the P90 from his hand, Nick mentally called upon his warhammer, and definitely did not let out an unmanly sound of alarm when the weapon, heft and all, appeared in his hand as if by magic. Shaking his head, he stalked forward and gave a two-handed swing to the now-kneeling Shadow's face.

"Fuck you!" He shouted, anger getting the best of him. "I won't become a monster like you! Like her!" Another swing, bloodying the thing's face and causing it to struggle more violently against its bonds. "I'm not like them! I WON'T BECOME THEM!" Smashing his hammer downwards into the thing's skull, Nick seethed, breaths coming in heavily as his mind whirled with long-suppressed guilt and self-hatred. "I'm not...I'm not a monster..." He whispered, looking at the thing in front of him. "And you can't make me one."

Excellent. Now. Say my name. Reach into yourself and call upon me! Nick's head throbbed for a moment, but his hand went to his chest instead of his head. Something told him that this voice wasn't speaking metaphorically, and in this weird messed up mirror world where people summoned guns and giant monsters and magical powers seemed to exist, what harm could listening to the voice in your head do?

No, don't answer that question. Nick ignored that de-railing train of thought and gritted his teeth, mentally and physically pushing himself as his hand and arm sunk into his chest, coming out after a moment with a clump of tar roughly shaped like a human heart, beating in his hand. "Okay what the fuuuuuuuuuckkk..." Nick whispered, before shaking his head and closing his eyes, crushing the thing in his hand.

When he did, shadows seemed to burst forth from the heart of tar, only to be washed away a moment later by blue flames, and behind Nick, an immensely tall and imposing figure stood. Only a silhouette, no matter the angle it was viewed from, the androgynous creature's body was obscured by a shadowy, wavering poncho, and a similarly dark sombrero covered its head. In one hand was held a walking stick, appropriately sized for the immense Persona. If one was observant and watched for its eyes, they would find a pair of piercing blue eyes locked solidly onto Nick's Shadow as the boy turned back to the monster.

"I don't have to become you, become a monster, just to get what I want." He knew it was more complicated than that, but he didn't have to be a doormat. He could fight back without alienating and hurting people.

"DARK WATCHER!" Nick shouted, pointing at his Shadow. "DESTROY IT!"

"Very well." The Persona replied dispassionately, raising its walking stick. The Shadow struggled and writhed in its bindings, but as Dark Watcher strode forward, it seemed to recognize that its time had come, its struggles slowing. Nick turned to Lorenzo, who'd helped wound the thing, and gestured at him to get the hell out of the way if he wasn't already doing so.

As the Dark Watcher reached Nick's Shadow, it brought down its walking stick with a sickening crack, dark energy seeming to radiate off both of them, as the Shadow dissolved into what looked like tar and ash. In a flash of blue flames like the one that heralded its arrival, the Dark Watcher vanished, and Nick collapsed onto his butt, sucking in great gulps of air.

"Holy...shit...dude...." He gasped, carefully laying down to his back. "Feels like I...ran a marathon..."

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle

Lvl 7 (113/70) -> Lvl 7 (114/70)

Word Count: 407 words

Geralt scowled in frustration as he felt Fizz break the shield Quen had provided him, and he lashed out with a boot to kick at the creature, which dodged with minimal effort. Giving the skeletal pirate a nod, Geralt broke off to engage the smaller foe, trusting the man to keep the larger monster at bay. While conventional wisdom would bring one to think the large combatants would fare best against one another, Geralt's own experiences gave him a unique edge at asymmetrical warfare.

Fizz darted to and fro, scoring multiple hits against the oversized Witcher. the mystical powers of his bleed amulet helped keep his vital fluids from draining everywhere, but the sheer volume of strikes made up for that. He wasn't exactly pleased with being on the opposite side of the death by a thousand blows, but once he managed to get a bit of a read on his opponent's movement patterns, Geralt began his counterattack:

As Fizz darted in to strike, Geralt swept low with his sword, connecting and parrying one strike, and allowing the follow-up to connect while drawing the plasma pistol with his free hand. Taking a few shots at Fizz, Geralt watched as the little thing dodged back expertly, nodding. Stowing the weapon, he closed the distance himself, this time pointing at the amphibious creature and summoning his Striker, the PT Imp Pack.

Smirking as the thing found itself outnumbered, Geralt drew a grapeshot bomb from his pouch, watching Fizz dip, duck, dive, and dodge his way out of danger, even vaulting out of the way of a triple-strike by using his trident as a vaulting pole. When he came down on a dry spot near the well, however, Geralt threw his bomb, which landed next to the champion and detonated, spraying him with shrapnel as the Imps vanished, their time having expired.

Geralt moved in to follow up on his attack, but he was surprised to see Fizz little worse for the wear, who proceeded to slip between his legs and catch Geralt in the side of the calf with his trident on the way. Cursing, the giant Witcher reached out a hand and made the Sign of Axii, moving to overwhelm Fizz with a barrage of blows after stunning him with the magic. To that effect, he called out to the others, "Need a hand with this one! Quick little bastard, and I'm a bit too large for this!"

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick's head darted left to right, eyes wide, as his Shadow's bellowing created pools of red-black energy to well into existence around them. "Wh-What the fuck is that?!" He inquired, not at anybody in particular, but more in shock. "I hate this place!" He cried out.

"Of course you do!" The monstrous Shadow called back, arms wide in a challenge. "You can't stand anything more than surface-level introspection!" Despite its size and appearance, this thing was at least somewhat eloquent. It wasn't, wrong, though, and that was the worst part. Almost as if to punctuate the verbal assault, it grabbed another chunk of drywall and tossed it Nick's way, ignoring the sneaking Caelum.

Well, far be it from me to ignore a sign like that, Nick mused. Just gotta keep this guy distracted a minute. Spindle had said it was up to him, but Nick couldn't imagine a way to stop this thing. The hammer he'd grabbed was wishful thinking more than anything, but maybe if Caelum got that rebar into its side, he'd have a chance to go for its knees or something. Nick wasn't one to fight fair, after all. That thought in mind, he took a deep breath and called back to the monster that came from inside him.

"I'm trying, man! It's hard to change who you are, hard to dig down and look at what's wrong with you, then do something about it!" The Shadow replied with a derisive chuckle.

"You'd have a point if you ever tried!" Timing another toss of house, this time a stud from the wall, with his mocking, the Shadow used its bludgeon arm to break more of the house while pointing with one of its normal arms. "You won't even try and fight me! Just letting others-"

A bright light, too bright to be natural, interrupted the Shadow, forcing it to cover its eyes with one oversized arm as the flare crashed into it, burning into its shin before being reflexively kicked away into a corner. "You little prick!" The Shadow roared, still blinking spots out of its eyes.

And that was when Caelum stroke, with the perfect dramatic timing.

The rebar he thrusted pierced into the Shadow's side, and the boy managed to duck away from the creature's retaliatory swing as it collapsed in pain for a moment, roaring.

Already prepared, Nick charged in with a burst of speed, lifting the sad, average-sized hammer and making a running strike against the Shadow's jaw, having changed targets on his way in. The Shadow's head jerked to the side, Nick already following up with the originally planned swing against its knees, only to be knocked back as it backhanded him with the spear-like arm. "I'd be impressed if you weren't just taking advantage of an opportunity somebody else gave you." It sounded actually disappointed. "But that's what you were always like. Too sad to actually do anything of your own initiative. Always coasting by without direction, relying on others to show you what to do."

Reaching down to pick Nick up, the Shadow snarled. "I'll make better use of your pathetic life than you ever could." He struggled, kicked and tried to pry himself free, desperate to live, to fight, to not die in this place, when a voice sounded in its head.

Well. You tried. Nick paused for a moment as time seemed to slow, taking in the Shadow letting out a laugh. Unfortunately, it looks like it just wasn't enough.

"No!" Nick shouted, both at the Shadow about to kill him and the voice in his head.

Oh? But you look like you're about to get crushed like a tomato by that thing. Barely even fighting back. The voice was calm, like it wasn't involved in this situation, merely observing from afar. Like the outcome made no difference to it.

"It's too much!" He cried.

Is it? Or are you just underestimating yourself again? Calling the battle before the last bullet's fired? There was a bit of emotion now, like it was trying to coax him to the right answer.

"I don't have what it takes to do this anymore!" Nick sobbed, tears stinging at his eyes.

I think you do. I think, deep down, you want this. You want to be what this thing is telling you to be. But not like how it wants you to be. Nick groaned as he felt the Shadow squeeze harder, mocking him.

"You're done."

Reach in and show yourself that you can do this. We're both you. You have this kind of power inside you, but you never let yourself use it because you're afraid.

"I'll finally get to leave this place!"

Afraid of the monster your parents made you think you'd become every time you look at them.

"You'll finally be somebody! It won't be you anymore, but it's not like anybody will care."

You just have to be willing to try.

"Stop!" Nick yelled, head almost splitting between the pain, the two versions of himself talking to him, and the stress. "I just wanna live!"

Then stand up and show the world you're worth letting live. The familiar voice guided, a hint of pride underlying its tone. Take my hand, so to speak, and stand up for yourself in a way you can live with yourself after.

"Okay." Nick breathed out, hands suddenly full rather than desperately trying to pry himself free of the monster's grip. In one hand, the hammer he'd been holding was transformed. It was longer, though still able to fit in one hand and be used. The wood handle now had a long, riveted metal bar attached to it, which blossomed into a vicious head, with a curved spike coming out of the back where the construction tool once had a claw, the head itself now much larger and focused into four points, and a straight spike protruding from the top. A warhammer.

In the other, a familiar weapon to anybody who main'd SMG's in any modern Call of Duty game: the P90.

His clothes had changed, as well. Gone was his familiar and favorite jacket, replaced by a half-zipped black bomber jacket. Underneath, unseen to Nick in his current state, was a simple olive t-shirt. His pants were now tan military trousers, though they lacked any camouflage pattern. His sneakers were now polished, shiny black boots, and he could feel the gray military cap atop his head.

"What?" Nick and his Shadow questioned in unison. The latter, in a panic, tried to squeeze harder again, while the former raised the firearm he now found himself with and pulled the trigger, desperately sending a spray of bullets into the wall, its arm, and one of its many eyes, causing the monster to drop him as it cried in pain.

"I'll end you!" It roared, but Nick was already running to the far end of the room, gun up in one hand while the other held onto the hammer awkwardly.

Drop it, the voice from before advised, for it will return when you will it to do so. Following its instructions, Nick dropped the hammer, which faded into darkness.

"I could get used to that." Nick breathed. "Guys, let's do this!" Nick yelled, not having noticed the newcomer to the fight.

"LIKE I'D LET YOU!" The Shadow bellowed, charging after Nick, moving further into the ruined home.