Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 4: The Return of The Dark Lord

 The Second Coming watched in horror, the lasers of code building the shape of The Dark Lord. He stood, paralyzed, helpless, and The Chosen One was forced to witness the nightmare unfold. The guilt gnawed at him, but it wasn't just that—no. It was an avalanche of regret and sorrow. The Second Coming understood how anguished The Chosen One was after the defeat of his best friend, more than ever. Even knowing the necessity of the battle, the feeling clung onto him. The Chosen One had already given up.

As the form of The Dark Lord continued to take shape, The Second Coming's gaze locked on to his scars that were etched onto him. It winded all around his body, crisscrossing like strikes of lightning; it was a reminder of the past defeat. The huge scar on his chest seemed to pulse with light, as if the past itself was alive within it. A chill shocked through The Second Coming; he did that?

As the last pieces of the Virabands snapped into place, The Dark Lord floated to the ground. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, with The Second Coming holding his breath. Then, The Dark Lord's head jerked up, body still, as if being woken up from a nightmare. He was back.

But something was... unusual.

His first moments back were a bit unexpected, even The Chosen One never thought of it. The Dark Lord's movements were slow, almost lethargic, but remained sharp, moving as if he was trapped in a haze. He glanced around the room with a deep concern, not with the cold calculating look he once had. He blinked at the drawn heart underneath his feet, with his breath hitched. His hands trembled as he lifted them up onto his face, trying to process if his own existence was even real, feeling the cracks around his face.

As he looked down at his body, he saw it—the green scars that marred his body. The realization made him freeze a split second before he flinched, as the scars pulsed with a sickly, rhythmic light. The Dark Lord's chest heaved, both with hesitation and distress. He didn't understand. Even he, the once-powerful figure of all, didn't know why he was brought back.

The sight of The Dark Lord, who was once known as fearsome and unstoppable, made The Second Coming realize that he looked...lost. No malice other than fear and bewilderment was washed over him. Even though it made him feel bad for him, it made The Second Coming have a flicker of hope in his heart.

Maybe... maybe he wouldn't remember.

He clung onto that thought desperately, hoping that it was true. Maybe the scars would be nothing more but a distant memory. Maybe the same figure standing before him wasn't the same monster that almost destroyed the whole internet. But deep down, The Second Coming knew the truth. Even if The Dark Lord didn't remember, he cannot just wipe the past away. There was no escaping it.

That was when Queen of Hearts took a soft step forward; The Second Coming's determination shattered in an instant.

The Dark Lord's gaze snapped at the looming figure of Queen of Hearts, and he suddenly stumbled back. His body trembled–another hollowhead figure... in his presence. The Dark Lord felt the same menacing aura that The Second Coming and The Chosen One felt when they first met her. She was unlike anybody that they had ever met before.

Queen of Hearts gracefully lowered herself to The Dark Lord's level, with the same fake welcoming presence that weaved through their trust. She took a moment, letting the tension rise in the air between them, before sharply flicking her wrist as if recalling an important task. The five figures that were stationed around the room immediately acted, falling out from their spot and heading towards the curtain of vines, moving like Queen of Hearts was controlling their strings. One by one, the gray-shaded figures departed, leaving only the hollowheads in the room.

Queen of Hearts shifted her full attention to The Dark Lord after the five figures left. She leaned in closer, looking at the scars on his body and then his face. She hovered her hand near the green scars, but didn't touch them—just to give The Dark Lord a reminder of the pain he went through in his last battle. She looked at him like she knew him—all of them. She knew what they have gone through, The Dark Lord especially.