𝐍𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐋 - 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

collapse inward. Julian vanishes.

greaves, markings branded into his skin. His eyes go white. “𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝘽𝙄𝙏𝙀𝙍. 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙁𝘼𝙇𝙇. 𝙂𝙊. 𝘿𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙀𝙍. 𝙊𝙍 𝘽𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝙊𝙆𝙀𝙉 𝘽𝙔 𝙄𝙏𝙎 𝘼𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀.” In a final pulse of energy, the glyphs

His body lifts into the air, limbs splayed in a cruciform stance. The staff presses to his chest – burning light 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 him and his entire body. He screams. Divine armor laces across his hunched, frail frame, woven from cosmic judgement: chest plate, mantle,

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧. 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚. 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛!” The staff slams against the ground. Light erupts — not golden, but white hot magic. Glyphs spiral from the impact, forming a perfect sphere around Julian. The air bends.

“𝐍𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄. 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌. 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖!" Julian shakes his head, voice breaking. “Who?! What are you talking about?!” “𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗧. 𝗬𝗢𝗨

The staff begins to float. It hums low. Warm. Unyielding. Julien stares. “No. Nope. No. Not tonight.” The staff lifts into the air. Turns toward him. Then — a voice, splitting across dimensions:

of artifact this happened to be. No match. He 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 take it to Star Labs. Maybe they’d have better use for it. He rubs his eyes, leaning back a bit. He could really use some chicken nuggets. Then… 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 fills the air. A frequency. A flash of light.

The rain outside murmurs like static against his windows. Julian sits cross-legged against his apartment floor, staring at the decorated staff before him. Over the past few days he’d gone through every channel he could find, doing numerous Internet searches on what sort