The Saviors : Wrath Of The Sabers

Fall of a Warrior

 A few months passed and some of the mutants had gotten over the depression but they were still angry with the Sabers and would have killed any one of them on sight. Creator was less sad than he was earlier but nevertheless, he was still sad. They had not gone to battle ever since, preparing strategies and trying to get stronger than before. 

The warm night was proving to be difficult to sleep through for everyone in the L.E. The central air conditioning system had broken down by CoolBoy accidentally on a clumsy morning, He had accidentally grown a huge tree right in the middle of the L.E. breaking some of the equipment. 

Paul had cursed and scolded him for nearly an hour, giving him a lecture on how precious the L.E. was and how he was the only one in the entire universe who could create her. No one blamed or hated him for being proud of his own knowledge and skills as he didn't show off too often and his skill was worth being proud of. 

Most were trying to sleep but Paul and Creator were not. The night was echoing with nearly inaudible sounds of a distant battle. The voices ended by the time the sun rose with a loud "NO!" 

Every mutant on the L.E. woke up together at the sound of that sad scream and they ran out to see who had made the noise. They noticed that Creator and Paul were missing and they got even more worried. 

After about half an hour of waiting and looking, Creator popped out of the bushes panting.

"Where the hell did you go without even informing us, you absolute jerk !?" exclaimed Joeret.

"Mind your language, young lady." replied Creator. "We were off battling the Sabers. We received a challenge invitation. It would've been cowardly to ignore it."

"I'm sorry, I spoke harshly out of worry. Where is Paul?" Joeret asked with a sarcastic bow.

"Keep your emotions on check. As for Paul," he said, looking towards the sky. "Ah! There he is."

Skyhawk flew over them and entered the L.E. without stopping to talk or answer to the mutants.

"Better leave him alone for a while. He's most probably very tired. He killed a heck ton of those scumbags."

Joeret's expression changed, indicating she was suspicious. She had just noticed something very peculiar. "From 'cowardly to ignore it' to 'killed a heck ton of those scumbags'? How did your language change so suddenly?"

"Change?"

"You just used words like 'heck' and 'scumbag'. You don't often use those terms."

Creator looked nervous. He stammered before saying, "I'm probably just tired. Unlike you lot, I was off killing some Sabers. You should be thankful."

"Of what?" asked G.T.

"Look at you lot. You look like a bunch of miserable creatures. A bitchy girl who thinks she's so smart; an idiotic gardener with the most cringe worthy name ever; a guy who doesn't know how to speak well; a man who is better at being a dog; and a teenage girl who can't control her hormones and keeps hitting on the gardener. You lot couldn't kill the Sabers in a thousand years. I made it easier for you," he snapped, pointing at each one of them one-by-one.

They all looked very hurt but they did not say anything.

"Stop throwing a tantrum, you cry baby. So your girlfriend died, what are you going to do about it? Disrespect your own team? Not a good move. If you weren't depressed or if we didn't respect you half as much as we do, we'd all have walked out on you by now," said Felice. "And a teenage girl who can't control her hormones? You shouldn't say that brother. You are the one who is mourning because your girlfriend died before you could- "

 "That's enough, Felice." said  CoolBoy. "We all know he did wrong, but we can do nothing but forgive him. Oh, and Cree, you forgot about the blue giant with anger management issues and the man in a fancy-"

"No, Paul's a good man, CoolBoy," interrupted Joeret, "Let him be. And as for you, Cree. The Sabers want you to lose control over your temper and make a bad move. Don't do what they want."

Creator dropped his head, "I'm sorry. I went too far. I really am sorry."

 Later in the evening, the rest of the team had gone into the jungle to get some firewood and food (mainly consisting of fruits, nuts, small animals such as rabbits and on good days big animals such as deer). Paul sat alone at the end of his bed in a deep and (yet again) depressed state.

"Don't blame yourself, kid." he heard a very familiar and much needed voice say.

"M-Mr-Mr. Bucket?"

"Yes. I would say something like, 'don't be surprised' but honestly, I was surprised too. It seems mutant spirits are allowed to remain and interact with the living on Earth. It just requires enough wisdom."

"Which you most certainly have," said Paul.

Mr. Bucket appeared in front of Paul. He looked more like a hologram that a smoky ghost. He had a humble smile on his face

"If you say so," he said modestly. "That is not what I'm here to talk to you about. Don't blame yourself, is what I'm here to say."

"But-"

'No buts, son. It was his fault. He was foolish to lose control over himself. He must have known better than to be sad about such matters for so long. You deserve them. He didn't chose you, they did," said Mr. Bucket.

Paul felt slightly peaceful after hearing it from his much respected mentor. 

"Yes, Mr. Bucket."

"Also, young child," he added before disappearing into thin air like smoke, "It seems the air can sense it too. The entire planet is sad. After all, A warrior has fallen."