The Prophesied Destroyers

Anthony, the Second Son

"How far you've fallen, oh brother of mine. Then again, it's more impressive you could've fallen further in the first place.

Oh, stop your grandstanding. This is bigger than you.

Everything's bigger than everyone in your eyes. Have you ever considered that you're the problem?

You are ridiculous. Now, let me just--

Awaken the beast beneath? You're not the only one who knows the history here. Abraham and I worked out what you wanted the night before the last time we saw each other. Once again, no.

No?

You ruin everything you touch. If what's left of this world has to burn to keep you from getting this heart, don't think I will hesitate."

- A conversation between Barnabas and Anthony, thousands of loops after our experiment.

If Barnabas could be compared to the coldness of ice, then Anthony was a supernova. He was born in the midst of the snowing season, wasting no time in learning the weapon creation our father's family inherited.

"Such a cutie," Matthew remarked as their baby squirmed for the stick he had created, hugging it to his chest once Matthew gave it back, "surely he can be a hero greater than Achilles."

"Of course he will be, Bethany assured even as she finished writing a note for an old friend and dropped it into their campfire, "but why are you teaching him the powers of your grandfather? We spoke earlier about how much of a coward he was."

"If Barnabas knew how to protect himself," Matthew replied, "then he wouldn't have been taken. Since you apparently don't care for our children's safety, I must."

"I do care," Bethany claimed in response, "but I know what our children need. Breaking out will make them strong enough to do what's required." As she spoke, the rustling of nearby bushes stole their attention, and Achilles II stepped out to greet them.

"Hand the baby," Achilles offered, face betraying his lack of sincerity, "and I'll allow you two to survive." It was on that day that Anthony fell into the same prison that had been holding Barnabas for about a decade up until then.

- - - -    - - - -    - - - -    - - - -

Charity was distantly related to Matthew, though she had left the world of gods and monsters after the war, in keeping with their familial values of finding the worst universes with the most tyranny and fighting for the innocent.

In fact, she was in the midst of a fight with one of Eric's executioners, eight-legged beasts that tower over their prey with a series of cameras and weaponry mounted on a cannon.

"You said this would be easy!" Her cousin Chris shouted as he summoned a golden shield at the last moment before nearly getting knocked off his feet. "It's almost like he stepped up on the quality ever since his father was outed."

"I said it would be doable," came Charity's response as she jumped forward, using craters the machine had blasted into the earth as cover, "nothing worth doing is easy. You know how to fight these though, get moving!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chris replied as he slid under the mechanical tank's frame, "but have you heard of the Framers? Appearently that's where Zerah went after fighting those leviathans."

"Yeah, Bethany said they do great things." With those words, Charity joined Chris under the beast, and the two morphed their shields into massive axes they used to begin slicing the legs off. As they did so, the machine began to let out a series of angry, rapid beeps. "And that'd be the self-destruct," she noted, "usually they're harder. Ah well. Better get out."

Moments before the tank exploded in a dramatic, dirty fashion, the two descendants of Levi "the father of heroes" stepped through the void between universes to the the ancient conglomorate world of Magicus.

"Forgot how much of a beast you are," Chris joked with a hand shake as the two locked golden eyes on each other, "shame I wasn't able to see what you were up to in Pantheos."

"Don't say that like you weren't doing anything yourself," Charity retorted, nervously interspacing her blonde hair as Chris put a hand over his black hair, "weren't you fighting with a bunch of goblins or something like that?"

"They were being mistreated. I helped address that." Chris shrugged as he mentioned what kept him from joining despite their close relation. They then turned as they heard small footsteps approaching them.

"Mommy!" Charity smiled as her daughter, named after herself, stumbled over to them, a piece of paper held in her hands. "Betanay wote!"

Accepting the paper from her daughter, Charity looked down at the words with a frown before looking back to Chris. "It appears my daughter and I are needed in Pantheos."

"What does it say?" Chris asked.

"'My sons are being hunted down and imprisoned. It is planned for my son who was just born, Anthony, to be tortured to prevent him from becoming who he must be. I know you like keeping your daughter in Magicus as you explore the vastness of the multiverse, but I must ask you and your daughter to ensure he doesn't get hurt.'"

"Well then," Chris said as Charity opened a circle of golden light in front of her and her daughter, "I won't stop you then. 'Till the next time?"

"'Till the next time," Charity agreed before picking up her daughter and stepping through her portal.