The Last Bastion

As the group left the lot to continue their discussion in the residence of Tyco, Leon had once again covered himself with a veil of magic to keep his presence concealed from as many people as possible. This would not only serve to prevent interference from normal residents of the world, but allow him to single out those who had “awakened” from those who hadn’t, which was important as the actual amount of people that had received “gifts” had yet to be determined. After all, how else was he supposed to record accurate descriptions in the book without an accurate statistic?
The trip itself, on the other hand, was mostly uneventful. People bustled about as they always had, paying no real notice to the procession despite the oddly clothed boy in the midst of them. That was, until a dirty looking man with brown hair approached him.

“A few coins for a poor beggar?”

While these words would normally cause no actual harm to a person, it was a different story for Leon, as the power behind them pressed against his mental barriers. The pressure, although short-lived, made the young sorcerer clutch his face in pain momentarily… then react violently and knock the homeless that had caused him such mental strain to the ground with his staff. Enraged at the fact that a person had attempted to launch an attack against his mind, the boy thrust his staff towards the man’s neck to sever it, barely stopping in time as rational thought returned to him.

Calm down… the man must be another of the awakened. Killing him here would serve no purpose. As irritating as he may be.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was fully satisfied with the fact he would be leaving a person who had caused him actual pain mostly unharmed. His irritation, highly evident from the fact he spoke through gritted teeth, could also be clearly seen from the manner he looked upon the beggar.

“You. With us. Now. If I hear a single word out of you before we arrive at our destination, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

This glare was turned towards the others in the procession as well, effectively silencing any protests against the glowering mage’s actions before they began. Knowing Leon’s temper, it was likely that anyone who attempted to speak up would find themselves knocked unconscious shortly after. And that was a best case scenario.


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Fortunately, this uncomfortable situation only lasted for another minute or so. Tyco suddenly turned left onto a smaller road, and came to a quick stop in front of the first apartment building on the left. Opening the door with a key, he walked through, leading the group up the flight of stairs that lead to the rest of the building. Three stories later, he opened a door at the final landing and lead the way into a short corridor. A head poked out of one of the propped-open doors, and one of Tyco's neighbors scowled at the newcomers who were making all the racket. Curiosity satisfied, however, the young man slammed the door shut without confronting the group.
Inside, a small living room which barely fit the three puffy armchairs and small television against one wall met Leon's disapproving stare. This didn't look like much of a meeting place. The rest of the group, however, were filing into the more spacious kitchenette, which was surprisingly clean and well-organized for a bachelor pad. A number of barstool-style chairs lined the counter, and Leon crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently as the anomalies found places to sit on the stools or the countertops.
Realizing that he had been left nowhere to recline, Leon shrugged inwardly and simply levitated himself into a sitting position. A square, doorless entryway on the other side of the kitchenette, which evidently led to Tyco's sleeping quarters, provided a useful blank surface for what the young mage had in mind.

“Now then… as promised, I will begin to explain things one by one, the first being my purpose for coming here.”

Materializing the book into his hand, Leon allowed the book’s pages to magically turn to the one he desired, an “animated page” of the city from a bird’s eye view, before projecting it for the gathering to see.

“This… is your world today. Prosperous and “booming”, as you term it.”

In the projection, people bustled about as they always did, cars speeding about, everyone going somewhere… it was the typical picture of your average metropolitan city. It was nothing really particularly interesting. That would change however, as the book turned another page, this time the projection swallowing the entire room into darkness before it immersed its occupants into an unbelievably realistic three-dimensional environment. Unlike the “prosperous” city that Leon had shown them earlier, this one appeared to be an emulation of the exact opposite. Gone were the busy streets, the masses of people going places, the magnificent buildings reached high into the sky. In their place, were a multitude of corpses strewn about, abandoned vehicles, and ruined structures. Most of the bodies were in advanced stages of decay, bone showing through the scraps of skin and clothing that remained. A mutilated body hung from the rusted, battered window of a car that was crashed into the wall of a building. Some of the others seemed to be fresh, but those corpses were torn up as if by some kind of wild animal. A couple of the female Anomalies shuddered at the sight.
The air was foul, and the wind blew about stinging dust from the cracked ground. Plant life seemed nonexistent, only dry husks that seemed to be victims of long droughts could be seen. The place was a wasteland, one devoid of any and all signs of life. After allowing the anomalies time to take in the spectacle, it was then that the young mage spoke words which would haunt the awakened far into the times to come.

“And this… is your world ten years from now…”

Layora's mouth dropped as she viewed the desolate wasteland before her. The city was in a terrible state, several buildings reduced to rumble. Others, on the other hand, were cracked and in the process of crumbling. She looked around, trying to spot any form of life, but could not find any. Not so much as a corpse remained. She recognized this part of town, though it was very hard to do so.

"W-what happened?" she managed to stammer out after a few moments of openly gaping at the ruined place. She wondered vaguely if this was what the young Mage had come to fix. Was he possibly here to try to save them? She pondered her impression of him so far. He seemed harsh, uncaring, snobby, and ruthless. She could see no reason why he would waste his time helping those he so obvious thought were beneath him.

Then again, he seemed young. If outward appearances of the boy were correct, then he must have some sort of mentor or master, right? No one could just learn such seemingly complex spells from scratch... could they? She admitted she really had absolutely no clue. All her knowledge of "magic" consisted of movies and Fantasy novels; She doubted any of them were accurate. From what she could tell, all of them had strange powers, though. They didn't seem that amazing, really. Her own, for instance. So she could feel and listen to the needs of plants and animals, what good was that for anything but gardening? She sure as heck couldn't prevent a huge disaster like what must have happened to the city with something like that.

She took a mental breath, steeling herself before looking at Leon expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Ten years... Tyco stared wide-eyed at the scene around him, like a fully three-dimensional virtual-reality depiction of urban hell. Everything was some shade of black or grey, including the cloudy sky above and the soot- and ash-covered cars lying all over the place, as if they'd been thrown about by a malignant giant. There was no sign of life anywhere, and Tyco's ears were shrieking soundlessly at him, expecting the silence at any moment to be broken by the honk of a car horn or the bleeping of a traffic light.
A breeze ran through the image, and Tyco shivered despite himself as he saw scraps of cloth flutter from a few piles of bones, and then felt its freezing bite on his skin; the wind was harsh, so different from the still calm of his apartment, which seemed a thousand worlds away from this dead place. That thought was sobering; if this future came to pass, by the time these ten years were up, that apartment would be gone forever, or at least rendered unrecognizable. Tyco himself, and every other human being in the city, and maybe on the planet, would be dead.

The youth felt a sick feeling rise within his chest, and for a moment he thought he was about to scream. Instead, a pathetic whimper escaped him, and without realizing it, he was on his knees in the middle of the street, shaking visibly. It should have hurt, but his knees had been cushioned from the punishing concrete by a thick layer of soft, sandy dust; he planted his hands in it, and drew his fingers into fists.
The streets never get this dirty. The cars keep dust from staying anywhere too long. The cars are gone. The noise is gone, the people are gone. We'll all be gone in ten years. The entire human race will just be a scattering of bones, over six billion sets of blank, white grave markers. A couple of drops of liquid fell onto the dust, congealing into little dark blobs. Tyco blinked, then wiped at his eyes, inadvertently smearing half his face with dirt. He began to sob uncontrollably, his hopes for his own future, and for the future of the world, disappearing along a small runnel of tears in the inch-deep dust.
The rest of the Awakened watched in numb silence as Tyco's quiet sobs petered out. "Everything. It's all gone." Just that thought made him want to cry again, which wouldn't do at all. Damnit, the heroes always stopped the catastrophe. This was no different. Get a hold of yourself, Tyco Lansdowne!
"...We'll stop this. We have to." His murmur was barely audible, but to him it rang like a clarion, a last hope. There was still time. Now that they knew, they had to try, or else give in completely to despair. Trying to fix it was better than just waiting for the end, even if it turned out the future couldn't be changed. "We won't let this happen."

Leon had crossed to stand next to Tyco, and now stood inspecting him as one would a vaguely interesting historical artifact in a museum. The robed boy bent down and put his hand to the dust a short distance away from Tyco, but his fingertips passed through the dust as if Leon were a ghost. When he withdrew the fingers, there was no sign that anyone had touched the surface. As Tyco got to his feet, a determined expression now set on his dirt-streaked, tearstained face, Leon's eyes remained on the signs of stirred-up dust that showed clearly that someone had been on his hands and knees there. The enigmatic young mage's eyes traveled to the tiny wet trail of mud that had appeared below where Tyco's face had been. Leon tapped his foot, and there was a faint sound of the boy's hard leather boots clacking against the tiles of Tyco's kitchen floor. "...Intriguing. The applications of this could be... useful..." He muttered to himself under his breath, so quietly that no one else could hear.
Tyco took a couple of steps forward, creating only the muffled sound of his runners shuffling through the dirt. "We'll stop this from occurring." He looked to the others for support, his smudged face making him seem more a denizen of this dead future than the carefree student who'd let them into his apartment without a thought.
"Whatever happens in between our present and this future... We can prevent it. We have some kind of magic, and Leon can help us." He paused, then looked at the mage, who was still tapping his foot and staring at the dirt. "...Can't you?"