Mzzkc's Mind Games

9.1.2011

Prince (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Blurs. Orange and dark, everything fades: out of existence, into existence. This room is my prison, and my mind, my thoughts, my will, they lay suppressed, fighting for air, life, and the ability to soar. A callous laugh rings about me; my soul is his, he says, my struggle futile. . .

I disagree.

This dream, this state, I will overcome it!

A flash.

Light greets my eyes as I rise above the strength of my captor, as I rise into lucidity.

I've been here before.

A Demon Lord smiles at me blackly, ethereal, flowing, seated on his throne, behind his servants, their detailed malevolence and dark beauty equally as vivid as the one they serve. I cannot best him, he informs me, for I am nothing.

Uninterested, walking away, through the open courtyard, I spot my betrayer, a Monkey King who had led me to this place. But for what, I wonder. He seems stricken, upset I have seen his true colors. Is that regret in his eyes?

The Lord rises from his throne, following after me, through the throng of laughing demons, all in their higher forms. Are they laughing at me? Or at the incompetence of their Prince? I can't be sure, but his taunting is starting to annoy me.

The wind blows through the short, pale, snow-dipped grass as I turn around to face this Lord, Prince, whatever he might be. He sneers, and turns his back on me. He really knows how to push my buttons.

I raise my hand, but my mind can't make contact. Is my TK useless here? No, surely that can't be, not at my level of control. I try again, this time with two hands, remembering how powerful my TK has proven itself in the past. The Demon Lord seems horribly surprised when his head jerks violently to the side. But it's not enough; he's resisting. Pouring on the pressure, another 60 degrees, but still he stands. Again and again, I throttle and wind his neck on its axis, rotating it in circle after circle, but all I earn is a disgusting look of wonderment.

I decide to take a different approach, taking to the air, and raising my arms up above my head, letting loose a primal shout. A yellow, pulsing aura bursts from my body whilst my hair, now bright and golden, spikes downward, extending into an impressive, body-length mane. Above me, a yellow, glowing orb starts to grow. I feed it my rage, imbuing the ball with a dark red energy. Swirling now, yellow and red, it grows as I scream, as the Demon Lord approaches me, licking his lips.

In moments, I've grown my attack large enough to vaporize my foe in one fell swoop. So why does he look unconcerned? Is this really all I can do? He seems to think so, but I feel like I can make things more interesting. . .

“Chidori!”

Blue electricity shoots up my arm and fuses with the ball, coating it in a spiral of jagged cerulean lightning. The Demon Lord smile fades. He asks me what I've just done, but the only answer I give is cryptic, even to me. With a cry, I bring down my arms, hurling this orb of death at my enemy, who appears to me now as Frieza. To my surprise, he simply stands there as the blast hits his plated chest. Does he really think he can absorb that?

I watch as he finally realizes what the chidori fusion was designed to do: penetrate his defenses like a knife through taught paper. But by then, it's too late; his last ditch effort to evade the technique only saves a fourth of his body. Part of that fourth, still floating in the air, looks back at me, forever set in an expression of despair and confusion.