Shattering the Stars

Creeping Down The Hall

Merry Christmas, everyone! I almost didn't get this chapter done today, but I'm glad I did. Enjoy, and happy holidays!
-Jooostan

Shattering the Stars
Chapter 7: Creeping Down The Hall

"What the hell do you mean, 'someone's on to me'?!?!" Shatterhand roared, grabbing the captain with his gauntlet and holding him by the neck precariously. The soldier, stricken with fear, didn't dare try to fight, even when his master tightened his grip around his windpipe.

"There-" The captain choked, gasping for air. "There's l-little doubt to the notion, s-sir." His voice was raspy and unpleasant to listen to. Shatterhand softened his grip just slightly, allowing him to breathe just a bit better. "We detected several signals leading to Dimension ADK-1995, o-one of them being your stolen sword. We- We can only assume that there are enemy forces gathering."

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!" Shatterhand tightened his grip again and launched the captain into the wall with all his might. He slammed against the iron-metal and crinkled like paper, landing on the floor in a heap, coughing his lungs out. The raging bull just seethed as he stared out into the night sky.

None of the nearby guards even considered taking the risk of helping the captain to his feet. Their leader was a ruthless, unremitting, unfeeling thing, bearing a notion that if a man couldn't get back up after a beating, he's not worthy of being helped up. Wheezing and stretching his arms out to catch some air, the captain slowly stood, his entire body trembling. Shatterhand smirked at the sight of the captain's reflection in the window, pleased with himself. He waited for the man to relax before tilting his head so he could see captain out of the corner of his eye.

The way Shatterhand enforced discipline on his subordinates was abstruse to say the least. None of them knew exactly what was going on inside that unapologetic mind of his. All they could discern was that he expected complete cooperation and little failure when carrying out his orders. In fact, he was an invariably captious critic of his own design, making sure to account for each and every possible outcome of the next crusade. But it was easy to tell that this information of an outsider, somehow traveling dimensions, was not something he had expected.

"So," Shatterhand began, hiding his aggravation with fabricated composure. "Where exactly did this disturbance originate from, hm? I recall the report stating it was in a realm designated 'ADZ-2000', but where?"

"It's... It's a Hylian adjacent realm, sir. Just a parallel world known as Termina," said the captain, thinking it was of little importance. Adjacent realms were never usually on their radar, but to have a traveler coming from such a place was cause for concern.

"Hm..." Shatterhand's eyes narrowed as he turned his head back to face the window, the vast, empty expanse of space looking back at him. "Link. Yes... Link. Of course, the one that stole my Ultra Sword. I see," he hissed, a sickly glint in his eye. A great, wide smirk grew along his lips, stretching from ear to ear. "That's how we couldn't find him. The fool fled to an adjacent realm. Heh, clever, I must admit. I'll need to congratulate him for such a play when our paths cross again."

"You-" The captain stuttered, "You plan on crossing paths with the variant, sir? Are you suggesting we investigate that world?"

Shatterhand opened his mouth, prepared to bark an order, but he stopped before any sound came. An idea had just materialized inside his head. A terrible, wicked, awful, yet splendid idea. His lips curled back into that foul smile again, and all his rage from before withered away, replaced with sincere delight.

"No, we won't. In fact, there's going to be a change of plans!" Shatterhand spun around and pointed to the ceiling dramatically, beaming at his own brilliance. "We shall leave the interlopers be for now, but instead we'll adjust our crosshairs. We've been going down a chain, on a rhythm, pursuing these worlds. Now, we'll jump ahead a dozen or so and leave our opponents in the dust, but also ensure that they can find their way here. I have no doubt that they have technology similar to ours and will use it to investigate."

"Brilliant plan, sir!" A guard shouted.

Shatterhand turned to the guard in an instant, raised his gauntlet, and fired a blob of black energy at the guard. It struck him right in the chest and he was sent flying into the wall, his comrades fighting every nerve in their bodies not to check on him. He landed on the floor in a crisp, groaning in agony. He wasn't dead, but there was a penalty for interruption.

"They will investigate," Shatterhand continued as if nothing happened.

"Investigate under the idea that it's a trap. Link, along with whoever else may be accompanying him, will journey here. To this very place." However, all the eccentricity in his voice faded, morphing into gravel. "Because I want them to see. See what I am capable of. See that they have no idea what we can do. And if they move onto another universe, then we shall hunt them down like the dogs they are."

Shatterhand was a man behind many schemes, but this machination was one he was truly proud of. He always aimed to outwit his enemies before they had a chance to figure out who he was and why he was doing this, but for once, he wanted to leave a bit of mystery behind. Until now, there had never been the threat of someone following him through dimensions. He wanted to relish this, let this one get close to him, all to make the end that much sweeter.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir," The captain spoke up, "How will we make sure that they come across this place? Won't they just seek out wherever we went and follow us?"

"We leave breadcrumbs, my friend," Shatterhand explained, chuckling to himself. "Have the Nav-Com outfit one of the escape pods with a tunneling device. When we leave to a distant realm, we'll send it back to this one. I have reason to believe that they can't detect too far out into the realms."

"Why's that, sir?"

"Because if they can detect us at all, it'd be through a Lor," Shatterhand ginned, glad he had his men scour the first ever Starcutter they came across. "Those ancients, while cunning, didn't anticipate so many realms beyond the two they knew of. Those ships can only sense so much, at least according to our readings."

"Ah, so we jump ahead a dozen or so, they'll have no way of knowing, correct?" The captain was catching on to his master's plan. He walked up and stood beside Shatterhand, gazing out into space alongside him.

"Yes indeed," Shatterhand sneered.

"Alright men, you heard him! Boot up the Nav-Com and get it ready!" The captain turned and hollered towards his men, rallying them up and exiting the bridge, making for the escape hall. The last two guards left while dragging the unconscious body of their singed companion in order to get him to medical. Now, Shatterhand stood alone, staring out into the deep abyss of the cosmos.

The manic tyrant remained quiet for a while, thinking. He lifted up his right arm and removed the Dark Matter gauntlet, letting his deformed hand breathe at last. The palm was curved inward, his index, middle, and ring finger fused together and bent to the left so far that it'd normally break a person's bones. Only the thumb and the pinky were free, although the pinky was missing its tip, leaving only two joints left. It always disgusted him to look upon his disfigurement.

Shatterhand sighed and used the only good part of his right hand, the thumb, to rub his crooked palm. It always used to hurt, but one day the pain just vanished. He often wondered if it was the day his resolve finally returned. He would always remember that day, every time he spun his yo-yo that he so cherished.