Overlord and Unkindled

A Last Fight

(A/N When the music starts in the story, start the song at 2:14)

 In a field of burn ground and ash, littered with weapons and gravestones from the ages throughout the history of this virtual world sat a sole creature before a coiled sword, stabbed deep into the earth. A bonfire. It, or rather, he, was tall. Almost three meters in hight. This was the player adorned with the title 'Soul of Cinder'. He was the last lord, holding all four lord souls, and the bane of many players. He had hoped that in the last hours of the game, someone would come, someone would fight him again, just once. It had been quiet, quiet for so long. He had stopped playing 'Dark Souls, World' for some time when people had stopped attacking his base, a perfect recreation of Firelink shrine and the way to the final arena of Dark Souls III.

 This game he had been playing for so long, it had become his life, literally. The Year 2138 was advanced, but had many new diseases. One that had come to him was a neo cancer, eating away at his muscles. He was one of the lucky few to be taken into the hospitals at Japan. However, he was still dying, and in constant pain. He had donated his body to live human research, and was compensated. But that's another story, for another time. He spent nearly his whole life after his 18th birthday in an airtight room hooked up to a wall and being kept alive. However it wasn't the drugs or machines that kept him going mentally. It was his honor as the greatest player in 'Dark Souls, World' to keep fighting until the game ended. But the game WAS ending, today, in one hour. And when it did, the doctors would pull his plug, and put him down.

 The sound of someone passing through the fog wall at the head of his arena met his ears, he looked up and saw them, a group he had come to fight often. A group of cosplayers in armor, the lead wore a set of elite knight armor, Astora straight sword and Dragon Crest shield in hand, he bowed. Another had a silver like armor, a buckler with a spike, and a large two handed sword, although the most prominent part was his onion like helm, he bowed. The next had a brass colored armor from Carim with arms wrapping around his chest, two curved swords in hand, he bowed. The last one stepped out, chainmail under white cloth, a large round shield and straight sword, he stood on his toes and spread his hands wide apart in a 'Y' shape. Their names and health appeared over their head, 'Oscar of Astora' 'Siegward of catarina' 'Lautrec of Carim' and 'Solaire of Astora'. He rose to his full height, grasping the coiled sword from the ground and ript it free of the earth.

 His armor and weapons were different than the original Soul of Cinder, dark silver metal clung close to his form, the chest like ribs and helm with the likes of a crown adorning the rear and skull on its front. But that is where the similarity ended, he had two wide strips of dark red cloth coming down from his hips, a design taken from the armor of Faraam. The Coiled Sword in his right hand was the same, although it didn't get wider in the middle and stayed a single girth the whole way down, his off hand was a Mimic of the Lothric Warbanner, although the shaft from the grip up was coiled like his sword, the spear tip longer, and the entire thing flecked with embers of red. A reason people played to this point, was to kill the holder of the first flame, in this case him, and take it for oneself. They would reward their party members as they see fit, and the longer one held onto the title the more they could customize there fighting style and grow in power. He held the world record.

 He lightly inclined his head, and immediately entered phase two as the music began, a crescendo in male choir leading to three piano notes. Three simple sounds that meant the world to a gaming generation. As the violin entered the mix, and the notes repeated, he let the Lothric war banner fall and grabbed the Firelink Greatsword with both hands and pointed it down, raising it high into the air, and slammed the tip into the ground, sending a massive wave of electrified fire coursing over the entire field, rupturing the earth and hitting the aren borders. As the smoke and ash fell, they stood now in a wall less, roofless, version of the kiln of the first flame. The darksign moon behind him alight with growling flame.