The discussion hubs of Forumscant were teeming with the usual activity. From an airborne perspective, one would see crowds of people separated into groups, moving randomly about, discussing what they would, sharing their ideas, and creating the mirth that kept Forumscant alive and spirited. Occasionally, discussion would lead to argument, push to shove, and the general peace would be put in check, spreading like a disease through the bundles of engaged participants â that is, if it were not for the administration.
Keeping close watch on all Forumscant activity was the administration - a select group of Forumscantâs most responsible, willing inhabitants. Together, they ensure that the peace that Forumscant values remains abundant and shared by all. However, despite their most fervent efforts, there is always, at the very least, one who would not respect peace and structure. Among those who would exhibit this trait was one named âFMâ, whose name became more of a myth as the days passed. FMâs remarkably strong will to fight the administration was not forgotten by those there to see it. Consequently, as newcomers poured into Forumscant, the tale of .FM. continued to spread â that was, until one fateful day, when the man would, once again, push through the veil of the myth.
* * * * *
The Off-Topic hub of Forumscant was a sight to behold. Hundreds upon hundreds of people would engage in conversation about any number of topics. In the centre of the bustling hub, a large metal statue careened into the sky, depicting, as the locals called it, the âCâs of Compulsionâ. The depiction showed two watchful figures known only as Cucumba and Cheeseman, the two that had commanded Forumscant for some time. Their combined visage was believed to be a healthy reminder that the administration was watching. Perhaps an imposing sign, it was meant as reassurance that you were protected by the administration right from the time you entered and registered with Forumscant.
Moving near the base of the âCâsâ was Majin_You, making his way to the west end of the Off-Topic hub. As a member of Forumscantâs High Administration, he was responsible for controlling major events that could, potentially, damage Forumscant as a whole. This day was no different, as far as he could tell. Moving between clusters of people, he could hear snippets of each discussion as he passed by:
âPerhaps it would have been a neat addition to the series ifâ¦â
âThatâs it, you stubborn ****â
âThis is the Forumscant moderation. Cease and desist hostilities.â
âYou are warned. Come with me and be prepared to stand against an administrative panel.â
Upon arriving at the west end of the Off-Topic hub, Majin_You immediately took stock of the scene before him. Directly in front of him, three moderators were keeping the public at bay. Majin_You quickly identified them as Twister, Hwoarang, and Engar. Approaching the three, Majin_You could hear each of them explaining, to the public, why they area behind them was locked down.
âGentlemen,â interrupted Majin_You, âIâve heard some pretty hefty reports about this closure. Hwoarang, would you care to accompany me in?â
âGladlyâ Hwoarang replied.
As Hwoarang stepped aside, the lockdown site came fully into view before Majin_You. A dark, purplish, pyramidal cloak of energy kept an area rough three squared meters secluded from the general public. Occasionally, a surge of hot white energy would cascade down the pyramid as people would try to push in to see what was afoot. Approaching the pyramid, Majin_You withdrew a small, silvery, rectangular gadget from his cloak pocket Hwoarang was quick to repeat this action. Lifting the device to eye-level, Majin_You pressed a few buttons that were arranged, lengthwise, on the device. After completing this sequence, a flash emitted from the device, as the device encased Majin_You in small, elliptical field of energy. Though the field, itself, was colourless, one could assume the device was active from the blurring, chromatic aberration that surrounded those who used it. Replacing the device to its original location in his cloak, Majin_You looked up and faced the pyramidal barrier, with Hwoarang following closely behind him, protected by his own field.
Once the two reached the field, they slowed their pace, Majin_You taking point. At the perimeter of the field, Majin_You extended his arms, pushing them into the field. As he predicted, Majin_You encountered some resistance from the field, feeling pushed back by the field. The pyramid seemed ravenous, striking at Hwoarang and Majin_You with bolts of hot white, fizzling out once they came in contact with the shields the two had engaged earlier. Nevertheless, Majin_You and Hwoarang pressed on through the field for some six feet until arriving on the inner side of it. The interior was dark and daunting. Silence was the dominating characteristic, as not even sound could permeate this barrier. Having been sealed off earlier, the area was already equipped for investigation. Taking this for granted, Majin_You knelt down and felt in front of himself for a tripod-shaped device. After about ten secondsâ time, he found the tripod, laying his hand firmly on one of its legs. Almost immediately, an array of four lights activated, illuminating the area.
âNow I see why Cucumba sent me out here.â Said Majin_You with a bit of shock.
âThat one, over there,â replied Hwoarang, gesturing at an unconscious figure, âHe was the one that got the brunt of the flaming. Whatâs more is that his assailant was overly physical.â
Majin_You glanced, briefly, at the poor soul who had been victimized. His body was bruised, and he appeared to have been bleeding for a short time, as his clothing and the ground immediately around his face were tinted red.
âThatâs an understatement, Hwo. Any word on whether or not this was FMâs work? The reports of his return seemed rather urgent.â
âYes. The evidence seems rather clear. Ryoko was nearby the scene when the assault erupted, and he claims that somebody named âPigstahâ was making some rather caustic remarks. Does that amount to anything?â
âYou said âPigstahâ, correct?â
âYes.â
âIf you recall, FM did make several references to a pig, for whatever reason. However, I cannot make a judgement based on this fact alone. The flaming and assault are convincing, but I believe I will have to check up on a source or two before I proceed. Stay here, Hwo, and maintain the lockdown until you hear otherwise.â
âVery well. Where will you be headed?â
âNowhere specialâ¦â said Majin_You, with a slight grin.
As Majin_You exited through the field, Hwoarang raised his left eyebrow, curious as to where Majin_You could head to get information on such an outdated offender.
* * * * *
Having left the Off-Topic hub, Majin_You set out down the Forumscant streets and corridors, passing large, clean, metallic structures as he went. Bright, colourful lettering lit up the streets, advertising different public services:
âIf you are new, come here to discuss your arrival and introduce yourself.â
âCome here to discuss the Forumscant League!â
Finally, Majin_You found himself under the flickering glow of the sign that marked his destination. Looking up at the sign, Majin_You snickered.
âTech Bench.â Said Majin_You, still snickering and shaking his head as he entered the rather grungy, unkempt building.
The interior of the Tech Bench building was no more discouraging than the exterior. Immediately inside was a sitting area that could only boast untidiness and an interesting collection of Forumscantâs most questionable folk. The room had a dismal, dark motif, accentuated by a potent stench and flimsy, worn furniture. To Majin_Youâs left, two citizens were seated at a low-standing table frantically working on some new technological peripheral, occasionally bickering with each other over whose modifications should take precedence. To Majin_Youâs right was an open doorway leading to a dark room. Tempted to take a gander into that room for informants, Majin_You slowly stepped toward his right, but was deterred and disappointed when he began to here nonsensical strings of cuss-words from within.
âPerhaps I should just get down to business.â Thought Majin_You.
Ready to get to the bottom of FMâs recent revival in the Off-Topic Hub, Majin_You proceeded to a glass-shielded window at the end of the room opposite the entrance. Seeing that nobody was ready to service his needs on the other side, Majin_You raised his hand to knock on the window, although interrupted by a momentary pause to observe that the window, too, was worn and filthy.
TUNK TUNK TUNK
Just as Majin_You completed the third knock, a figure approached the window from an inner office. This figure developed into a shabbily dressed, tiresome man.
âWhat the helâ¦.Aww, not the administration again? What the hell do you guys want from us this time? Are trying to shut us down again?â Asked a stranger in a pained voice.
âI donât know who you are,â explained Majin_You, âbut I assure you that the Tech Bench wonât be shut down right now. Is Smith back there?â
âI dunno,â said the man in a rather dopey tone, âwhat is it you want?â
âListen to me, and listen carefully: tell Smith that âThe pickle jar has been unscrewed, and the tongs remain nearby.ââ
âHuh?â
âJust do it. Last warningâ¦that is, of course, unless you want to answer to an administrative panel for assaulting a high administrator.â
âBut I never ââ
Majin_You interrupted the manâs denial with a half-smirk, making it rather plain that this was not a battle he could win.
âWhose word are they going to trust, hmm?â Inquired Majin_You, now with an air of smugness.
âYeahâ¦Iâll get Smith for ya!â
âYes, you do that.â Mumbled Majin_You as the man left the window.
A minute or two later, Majin_You was treated with the site of a refined, sharp-dressed individual, sporting a crisp, clean white shirt and black tie, enveloped by a perfectly-fitting black sport coat. This was the uncanny image of Smith, the foremost upholder of the Tech Bench building.
âAh! Mr. You.â Observed Smith, in a very calculated manner.
âGreetings, Smith,â began Majin_You, âI am in need of your services once again.â
âI see, Mr. You. And what is it you need of me this time?â
âWell, no doubt you are aware of the current situation in the Off-Topic hub. Thereâs a rumour going around that FM is the culprit. I was hoping youâd be able to shed some light on that.â
âPerhaps I can, Mr. You. Perhaps I can. But what would persuade me to do such a favour for you when you are constantly sending your moderator goons to shut this place down?â
âAlthough I shouldnât even acknowledge that with a response, I will assure you that I know whose buttons to push to keep this place sprawlingâ¦and I also know how to get a certain man in a suit a position of authority.â
âI think we may have an understanding then, Mr. You,â said Smith after careful thought, âAllow me to shed some light on the situation. None of us actually know where this FM has escaped to, nor do we know, for sure, what his assumed identity is. As much as Iâd hate to admit it, our humble business here has its pitfalls.â
âWhy do I get the impression that thereâs more to your âlackâ of knowledge?â
âBecause there is, Mr. You. Because there is. You are likely aware of the notice that went out after âPigstahâ was found out.â
âThe reward? Yes I am aware of that. It was an interesting idea to coerce the citizens to fight the good fight against the âMaster of Spamâ himself. I was quite surprised to see that no one had contacted us. I suppose nobody felt they were up to the challenge.â
âOh, but they were, Mr. You. You see, several people were tempted to take up arms, but few were able to track down hard evidence of FMâs newest incarnation.â
âWhy am I not surprised?â
âIf you arenât now, Mr. You, you will be now. You see, someone has accepted your challenge, and he has managed to track down the correct incarnation. A certain Mr. Arthos has recently docked at the Forumscant buoy.â
âArthos? Thereâs a name I havenât heard for the longest time. But how was he able to track down FMâs incarnation so swiftly?â
âWell, Mr. You, he has acquired your tool.â
âMy âtoolâ?â
âYes. The device you call the âAdmin CP linkupâ has fallen into his hands. The word on the street is that he managed to track down Chimpbot and acquire it from him.â
ââ¦I see. And where is Arthos headed now?â
âIâd like to tell you, Mr. You, I really would. But, that would require more -â
Just before Smith could finish his demands, Majin_Youâs Admin CP linkup began to sound an alert. He quickly withdrew the device from his pocket and tapped a control on its surface, expanding it to the size of a small book. As he read the pulsating, red display, his eyes began to widen.
âApparently, Smith,â said Majin_You with great haste, âI wonât need that info. Thank you for your time.â
Before Smith could even ask about his payment, Majin_You turned around and sped out of the building, making a sharp right turn as he left the threshold of the entrance. Glancing, once again, at his linkup unit, he confirmed that the administrative access junction to the Artwork hub was being accessed by an outdated linkup unit, identified as Chimpbotâs.
* * * * *
Arthos stood, slightly hunched, in front of a small control panel that extended from an immensely thick and towering metal wall. This, he believed, was the only remaining barrier between him and a whopping cash prize. Alternating his glance between the admin CP linkup he acquired and the terminal on the wall, Arthos worked with amazing speed and efficiency to open the administrative access junction that would lead him to his target.
âThis is gonna make me one happy man,â gleamed Arthos, in his mind, ânot only will this get me back on my feet, but itâs the perfect way to make my reappearance on Forumscant.â
The access terminal created an interesting melody of beeps and buzzes as Arthos tried dozens of possible combinations for the access code. At long last, a resounding chorus of harmonious beeps filled the area, and the towering gate began to grind open. Arthos now focused his attention on clearing his tracks. He knew that it would be odd for someone to stumble across Chimpbot, of all people, using his old, administrative access. Just a step more, and heâd be in the clear. Until:
Clack
Arthosâ ears perked as he heard a resounding, percussive sound behind him. Turning to look, he could see nothing new behind him. He returned to tapping away, vigorously, at his admin CP linkup, covering dozens of tracks he had created after only a few seconds. Finally, he was satisfied, as the linkup began to display an encouraging message:
âAdministrative access point log has been reset. Please input new logging directory pathway.â
After creating a new pathway for the terminal to store its log, he shrunk the linkup with a light tap on a small, green panel on the reverse side of the linkup. He pocketed the device and began his triumphant passage into the Artwork hub. Arthos, however, was no fool. Knowing, full well, that Murphyâs Law was very well suited to his situation, he withdrew one of his pistols slowly, concealing it with the bulk of his body. After a secondâs time, he spun around with the gun pointed outward, ready to dispatch his pursuers, if any. Surprised, and a little disappointed, to find that there was nobody hot on his trail, holstered his gun and turned back toward the Artwork junction, ready to take on FM. It was just then, however, that he felt a slight tug just above his waistline. Looking down, slowly, know that sudden movement would not be smart at this point, he saw a wide, metallic constraint in front of him contoured to form the shape of a crescent.
âThatâs as far as you go, perpetrator.â Majin_You declared, loudly.
Arthos turned slowly to face his pursuer. Immediately, he noticed the unmistakeable visage of Majin_You â an image that had not changed, even in his absence. What demanded further attention of Arthos, however, was the greyish, pale gash that lay just behind Majin_You. Before he could examine it further, it rapidly contracted and vanished from sight.
âArthos,â began Majin_You, âyou will immediately hand over the linkup unit and accompany me to the administrative building. After you face an administrative panel, you may or may not be released to continue your business. Do this in a cooperative manner, and I can assure you that you will come to no harm.â
âYou want this old piece of scrap metal? You can have it.â Retorted Arthos, showing that he was not overly impressed with Majin_Youâs formality. âYou do realize that this is keeping me from a very large reward, donât you? Perhaps you donât need that money, but some of us have a living to make.â
âYou should have considered this before you seized restricted items.â
âOf courseâ¦how silly of me.â Arthos said, with a snicker.
Convinced that Arthos was ready to give up the stolen linkup, and concerned that he may harm Arthos unintentionally, he removed the blade of his scythe from Arthosâ waistline. Arthos proceeded to remove the linkup from his pocket, handing it over to Majin_You. As Majin_You grasped the linkup unit, Arthosâ other arm thundered forward and grabbed Majin_Youâs wrist. As Majin_Youâs eyes widened in complete shock, Arthosâ narrowed showing great focus. Only seconds after Arthosâ risky manoeuvre, Majin_You began to lose feeling in his arm, and against his greatest desire, he dropped the linkup unit. Not wanting to waste any more time with the authorities, Arthos used his free hand to withdraw one of his pistols. It gleaned a remarkably bright white under the overhead light, creating an uncomforting mix of awe and tension in Majin_You.
âYou give me one reason why I shouldnât end your tedious existence right now, administrator.â Spat Arthos.
âWhy should I have to explain it to you?â Asked Majin_You, his eyes now starting to exhibit a sickly, pale, yellow glow.
âVocal aberration,â Majin_You repeated to himself, mentally, âChimpbotâs voice shall service me!â
âI donât know what youâre trying to get at, but I donât have the ââ Arthos paused, uncertain of what just happened.
âReturn the linkup to me Arthos. Do it now, or I will see to it that you will die.â
âChimpbot?â Arthos now looked about for his apparently invisible benefactor.
âI have the ability to detonate the device, and I will do it. Your hesitation will not be tolerated. I donât know why I aided you in the first place! Prepare to burn!â
Overwhelmed by the magnitude of Chimpbotâs threat, Arthos spun to the right, facing a dark corridor, and began to fire into it, seeking to end Chimpbotâs life before the linkup could be detonated. Just as the last few shots were fired, Arthos was introduced to a new variable â the presence of a large metal rod pushing violently against his chest.
âEven the most seasoned adventurer cannot face death eye-to-eye.â Declared Majin_You, as he continued to drive the shaft of his scythe against Arthosâ chest.
After regaining his breath, Arthos raised his head to see the metallic assailant returning, once again, for a blow. This time, heâd not let it continue on its path. Extending both hands, Arthos intercepted and suspended the scythe between himself and Majin_You. Both combatants were putting incredible strain on their bodies, each with their arms quivering and their teeth clinched together. Despite the gravity of the situation, Arthos broke out into laughter while maintaining his efforts. Not wanting to understand the source of his mirth, Majin_You continued to push the scythe toward Arthos. It was then, though, that he realized what was giving the perpetrator his sense of glee. Looking to the left and right, Majin_You could see Arthosâ gloves begin to shimmer. Electrical arcs were skipping and dancing across the surface of his finely-tailored gloves, and before Majin_You could act, the arcs were skipping along the scythe from sides, meeting the administratorâs hands and coursing through his body.
âNghaaaaah!â Shouted Majin_You in absolute agony.
âAnd even the staunchest idealist cannot withstand this!â Arthos sang.
Quivering from head to toe, Majin_You tried, ceaselessly, to pull his hands away from the scythe. However, his efforts were in vain. It wasnât until Arthos was satisfied that the shock was sufficient that Majin_You was released from the torturous hold of the electrical charge. Searing with burning-hot pain, and limp from the nervous shock, Majin_You stumbled onto all fours before Arthosâ feet, his scythe seeming within physical reach. Majin_You urged his arm to extend forward, but for naught.
âConsider yourself lucky today, Majin_You. I am more than happy to leave you in this pitiful display as I claim my reward, though Iâm starting to wonder if your defeat is an even greater prize.â
âWâ¦.waâ¦.waitâ¦Arthos!â cried Majin_You.
âWhat?â
âWhat do youâ¦â Majin_You tried to squeeze out, through onslaughts of pain, âwhat do you plan to do with FM?â
âI will kill him. Iâve been here long enough to know that the system will not deal with him appropriately.â
âIâ¦Iâ¦understand.â
With that, Arthos proceeded towards the Artwork hub, pausing briefly to inject himself with a mild anaesthesia. Just as he resumed his approach toward the administrative access junction, he heard an odd whirling noise behind him. He quickly turned to see a spinning object whiz past his left arm.
âYour aim is terrible,â Arthos taunted, âI would think that an admin would be a bit more skilled with his weapon.â
âDonât count me out yet, perpetrator.â Majin_You struggled to say while gesturing for Arthos to turn around.
Arthos was now confronted with what he had seen earlier â an open, greyish gash, floating right in front of him. He turned around once more to see Majin_You now standing only an inch or two away from him.
âYouâre not the only one whoâs changed since you last graced Forumscantâs streets,â said Majin_You, whose eyes were now squinted, glaring at Arthos with contempt.
Arthos began to move toward the scythe, but was quickly thwarted by an unexpected constraint â Majin_You was now sporting a small, humming sidearm which he now held at wait level, pointed directly at Arthosâ stomach. As the weapon hummed louder and louder, Majin_Youâs face began to assume a larger and larger grin. This grin was quickly replaced with a straight face, however, as Majin_You began to create a blurry outline around himself. Within a second, the few inches between Majin_You and Arthos became feet as Arthos was propelled backward into the greyish gash Majin_You created.
âYouâve now earned your just reward, Arthos. You will ponder your existence eternally in a hell Iâve personally created!â Cried Majin_You in contempt as the gash began to close off Arthosâ only escape.
Now being the more content of the two, Majin_You began to walk away toward the Artwork hub, looking to end FMâs last sojourn in Forumscant. Apparently, this was not a feasible desire, as Majin_You was assaulted with a lot, crackling sound. Turning around and returning to the site of the closed dimensional rift, Majin_You was more than shocked to see what was now happening. Evidently, Majin_Youâs lack of knowledge on electro-magnetic theory was now his greatest downfall, as Arthos utilized his Ninja-to's, teeming with electrical charge, to rip open what Majin_You thought was a closed rift.
âIâd be a fool to try and take him on now. My threats can only have made this situation worse! Why does this world have to be so dependant on violence!!!â
Realizing that FM was a bigger fish to fry, so to speak, Majin_You stole up his scythe and left Arthos to the task of pulling himself out of null space and time. Running toward the terminal at the administrative junction, Majin_You hastily tried to shut the junction, but he ran into too many unexpected hurdles â Arthos had made certain that heâd be allowed into this junction, and Majin_You knew that he didnât have the time to spare on these obstacles. Seized by his nerves, Majin_You retreated into the recesses of the administrative junction and set out toward the Artwork hub. There were some battles that were better left unfinished.
* * * * *
Szzzzt
Arthos was succeeding in countering the effect of the dimensional rift. He only needed to push on a moment longer. He was already pushing himself to new extremes, veins and muscles pulsating all over his body. His arms and neck began quivering as he mustered up whatever was untapped of his strength. Finally, with one last pulse, Arthosâ body had become the victor, and the rift tore open into a wide gateway that immediately collapsed as he threw himself out of his short-lived prison.
âIâve still got it.â Arthos assured himself as he rubbed the nape of his neck back and forth.