Legend of Stryker.

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He strides forward, his palm coming forward, sword sheathed. Said palm then glows with a silvery light, causing the shadow to shrink back before him, then he is past, entering the almost preserved temple, despite the presence of shadowy and nearly incorporeal creatures dogging his every move. He continues to stride forward fearlessly, his hand now at the ready by his side, prepared to fight. He moves past glorious mosaics and tapestries, into a chamber where, upon a staircase leading to a dais, there stood a shadowy figure before an altar, his back to the entrance. He suddenly turns about, his features now clearly shown, though still unknown, due to the silver helmet adorning the top part of his head, shaped to resemble a chameleon. He wore long and voluminous robes, the sleeves decorated with purple symbols, tassels hanging to the floor. In addition was a set of silver shoulder guards in the likeness of serpents, golden shoes adorning his feet like dragons. All in all, quite an impressive figure, tall and imposing. But not as the one facing him. Stryker smiles that predatory grin, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. "You are Zant, no? I have come to destroy you in the name of the Queen." He puts a hand to his katana, the blade visibly glowing through the ornate scabbard, the hilt in the carved likeness of dragon wings. The figure responds with a high and cold voice. "I am the King of Twilight! The ruler of Hyrule! Fall before me, interloper!" With a loud crack, the scenery changes, becoming that of a darkened and crumbling temple, a large lake of water covering a majority of the ground surface. He finally draws his sword, holding it steady in one hand, ready for the as yet unseen 'King'. With a rush of wind only just alerting him, he leaps to the side, narrowing avoid a crimson blast of energy from the now-cackling Zant floating above the water. Stryker raises his hand to chant a spell, but the so-called King suddenly vanishes, then reappears elsweyr, launching more missiles, Stryker deftly avoiding them with ease. He continues this pattern for a while, until he slips up, delaying a second too long. Stryker seizes the advantage, raising his palm, incanting. "Accendo!" The formerly shadowy figure suddenly lights up with silvery flames,falling into the water, screeching a horrible cry and incoherent words, a far cry from his earlier confidence. Leaping forward, he slashes him, once, twice, thrice, blade humming with energy. The traitor screams, throwing up his hands and disappearing, the room taking on another appearance, that off an abandoned mine, cranes, carts, and various other materials scattered about, the temperature quite hot due to the lava about. He wipes his forehead, then gazes about, still gripping the katana tightly. Before him is the traitor, his mouth grinning widely, standing upon a large platform hanging over a bed of lava. "I AM the King of Twilight! You shall not defeat me! FALL!" His words become more and more frantic, before he begins launching the same Crimson projectiles as before. Stryker jukes, then jumps onto the platform, steadying himself for a moment, before running toward the King with the intention of slicing him apart. He responds by laughing, then jumps upon the plate a few times, shaking it about, making balance impossible with the smooth surface. Stryker begins to slide off, but responds by summoning forth wings which burst free, black and leathery, flapping gracefully towards the king, who now stands still, expended by his efforts. Stryker holds his katana in both hands, it humming with power, and slices down cutting the king in half.. then the illusion shatters once more, the scene reverting into the bed of a rather large underwater temple. His face mottled, becoming scaled and fierce blue for a moment , before he casts a charm to breathe, at which point his face returns to normal. His wings have also reverted, quite useless inter current situation. He stands his ground upon seeing the blight shadow again, inside a giant replica of his own helmet. He speaks no words this time and simply motions frenetically, launching his same old easy-to-avoid missiles, at which Stryker counters with his own burst of psionic energy, knocking the creature back. He responds by collapsing the ground underneath Stryker, and conjuring four helmets, the mouth closed, from which he pops to blast energy in the confined space. Stryker blocks as often as he dodges, movements restricted by the close quarters. Finally, he runs up the wall, timing his motion for the a helmet to open at his final ascent, then leaps into the helmet, tanking the minuscule blasts of energy he frantically sends, simply stabbing him in the heart, only for he to disappear , the scene morphing into a forested scenery, several ornate pillars now erected in the clearing. At this point, the figure is practically screaming his spiel about being king and ruler, though Stryker has practically tuned him out by now. Zant finishes his tantrum, completely with jumping around and pounding the ground, much to Stryker's disgust. The traitor attempts to repeat his earlier strategy, though in a more predictable route, changing from atop pillars,which Stryker contemptuously deals with, lighting him aflame once more, and walking over, this time striking for the face, knocking off his helmet, exposing his true features. Pale-blue skin with purple lips and a strange emblem engraved on his forehead. His orange eyes burn with a feverish light, and his red hair is mostly covered by a long striped cloth, encompassing his neck as well. He shrieks an awful cry, giving Stryker pause, then disappears again, the plane changing once more, much to his disdain. He is now in a large bedchamber, reaching to a quite high domed ceiling, scattered Windows and decorations dotted the landscape. Seeing no sign of the traitor yet, he digs into his jacket out pulls out a pack labeled "Dark Pains", shaking loose a long and tightly rolled pillar, filled with some sort of plant. He pulls out a Zippo and lights up, inhaling deeply, then blowing out a rich Crimson smoke, erupting from his face in streams. He offers a fanged grin, his eyes closing for a moment of rest, leaning against the  wall and taking long drags, the tip of the smoke glowing a purplish color. After a few moment, he senses movements, opening his eyes and seeing a colossal version of the traitor before him, foot raised to stomp. He suddenly disappears from sight, narrowly avoiding the spot where his foot came down. Zant repeated this attack, stomping and kicking, Stryker avoiding via flashing, as he calls his short-range teleport. He continuously blasts energy at the giant figure, cutting him down to size with each blast, until he finally reaches the size of a man, at which point Stryker runs for the kill, only for Zant to grow once more, forcing the process to be repeated, though Stryker is now impatient, and simply laughs, spreading wings and  sucking in a deep breath. He blows it back out, causing a maelstrom of power to erupt into a huge fireball, completely engulfing the giant figure, his shrieks of pain gratifying to shear, before the scenery changes again, to that of a wide open plain, green and lush. A magnificent castle looms in the distance, though this area itself seems to be surrounded by a sort of force field. The shadowed figure appears again, this time holding two long and dark scimitars, the weapons across his chest. He screams at the one before him, raving and ranting, all delusions of grandeur and power until Stryker finally gets sick of it and launches an offensive, only for it to be stopped by his wild slashing and stabbing, an almost spinning technique to his attacks. He parries, dodges, and counters as he can, but enters a problem in that the betrayer teleports upon being struck. This cycle repeats, over and over, even the mighty Stryker growing tired from the repeated clashes, which a sudden spell and counter end this display, Zant falling to the ground in a shaking fit, the scenery changing into the throne room  originally scene, within the clustered rubble and once magnificent furnishings. Zant  now sits, nearly draped over the body of the previous, seeming perfectly at ease, a maniacal smile in place. "You have done well to get this far! You should join me, interloper, and we shall rule this realm together. Come!" The traitor proclaims this loudly, awfully self-confident in his offer, his sleeves together, the light of insanity in his eyes. Stryker offers him a fanged grin, and nods, sheathing his katana and striding forward, apparently turned traitor himself. He reaches out a hand to shake, as does the 'King', that grin still splayed across his features. Stryker takes the hand, then pulls him forward, off the dais, his eyes going yellow, skin mottling. Zant attempts to squirm away on alarm, raising his hands for his magic, when Stryker leans in, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth, and literally rips his face off, the skin coming off in a spray of blackened blood, some of which Stryker spit out himself into the dusty stone. Zant falls back, writhing uncontrollably, reaching for his missing features with a shaking arm, unable to speak a word. This arm swiftly flies away, a victim of a swiftly drawn katana. He raises his other to protect himself, and loses that one as well for his troubles. This incites an unheard and wordless screaming, as the demon looks on with adulation, pleasure written across his features. He finally leans in, gripping the robes by the front and whispering insistently. "This is for the former queen." He slides his blade into that black heart, quickly pulling it out, but leaving him standing for his last few moments of life, convulsions wracking him. Stryker takes one final look and finally finishes his play. He raises his voice one last time. "And this is for my queen, you sick and twisted son of a bitch." And promptly spins about, blade flashing forward, his desiccated head flying across the room to rest in a corner, boosting falling to the ground, leaking ever decreasing amounts of that dark blood. Stryker allows his features to return back to normal, re-sheathing his weapon and shaking out another smoke, lighting up. He takes a good and long drag, blowing out that deep red smoke, then heads outside to meet his queen to tell of her of his success.