Powers

3. Bruce Nighte

762 years later in the year 1967, a twelve-year-old boy named Bruce Nighte was wandering around, digging holes and muttering to himself. He would dig a hole and grab something out of it. Then he would move on.

The Nine Protectors, watching from nearby, held their breath as he began to dig where the Wizard's Stone was buried.

"Huh? What's this?" he wondered aloud, tossing his shovel away and picking up the Stone.

"Pictures-?" he said.

A puff of smoke emerged in front of him. "Greetings, young one," Warin said, smiling warmly. "Congratulations. You are the One."

"The One? What's that mean? Did I, like, win cash or sum-thin?" he asked hopefully. "No. You won something better," the second protector, Albus, said. "You are the new wizard. You protect this world and everything on it. Sit down. We must tell you a story."

The Nine Protectors took turns yelling Bruce the story of Warwick. Bruce listened intently.

"Wow. That's off the walls," Bruce said when they were done a half your later. "So I'm like... magical now?"

The Nine Protectors began to teach him to use his new powers. Within a week, Bruce was ready for his wish.

"Wish? I wish for......."

The Nine Protectors listened intently. This was it. The moment they'd been waiting for.

"I wish to be the ruler of earth! To be surrounded in money and power!" Bruce yelled. "I'll take over every empire -- and my new powers will help me! This is-"

Warin shook his head sadly. "I am sorry, Bruce," he said. "I'm afraid you're not who we thought you were."

He raised a hand where a light beam was forming. "Hey... What're you doing?" Bruce said, backing away. "I'm the-"

"Not anymore," Albus said.

"Terribly sorry," said Wichwin.

"Sad to see you go," Imian said, closing his eyes.

"You're just gonna kill me?" Bruce cried. "You could get arrested for that!"

"We do not get arrested. We are Protectors," Sarucramin said.

"Goodbye," Lochen said.

"It is orders, for the safety of the universe," Norcrin said.

"You will be happy with Warwick," Cramor said, pointing upwards.

Foramoore waved.

Bruce shrieked and shielded his face. A blinding late pierced the world. Nothing was left of Bruce but some ashes. And a black scrap of cloth.

The ashes were blown away. The Protectors reburied the Wizard's Stone and left sadly.

The scrap of cloth shone an inky black. An ear-splitting scream filled the world and the cloth grew.

"They think they can just kick me away," the reborn-Bruce said in a dark voice. "They think they can just be rid of me. I'll show them. I'll destroy the next wizard. I will be ruler. I still remember the training."

When he tried to use magic, a puff of smoke appeared.

"I forgot. I am a simple spirit. I am dead. I have the power of death," he smiled evilly. "I am immortal. I am not human. The world should watch out for the new..."

He thought a minute. An idea finally came to him.

"Black Night."