Cordayl is aboard a ship cruising through dark ocean waters. He is fitted in a sleek black water suit, holding a helmet, as he awaits his drop point.
The ship slows down and comes to a halt as they are where they need to be.
"Here." The man hands Cordayl a device, "This device will lead you to a colleague of mine from Atlanta. He will tell you where to go next.
"After you escape the prison, hit the button again, and the ship will move to your location to pick you up. Understood?" Ajaccio ask.
"Yup," Cordayl says, looking over at Eursala once again.
Without even donning his helmet, Cordayl jumps overboard and activates his gravity to sink to the bottom of the ocean.
Descending into the cool waters, the light slowly leaves as Cordayl falls deeper and deeper into the ocean. The device seems to guide him independently, as Cordayl allows himself to be pulled down to wherever he is to go.
Finally landing upon the soft sands at the bottom of the ocean, Cordayl sees he is standing across from none other than Eursala's father.
"Cordayl. Splendid to see you again." He says with a smirk on his face.
"Of course, their inside man would be you," Cordayl says, staring at him.
"Yes, I have been one of very few Atlanteans capable of becoming a part of the white glove, but at the time of our first encounter, I had no obligations to engage you, " the father informs him.
"Lucky for you." Cordayl blandly states. Cordayl gets agitated when he hears the man chuckling at his comment.
"You're laughing, but you do understand that if I don't pull this off, you will never see Eursala again," Cordayl asks him.
"Obviously I know the situation Cordayl. Who do you think gave them the idea to kidnap Eursala in the first place?" Her father asks.
Cordayl is shocked. "You offered up your own daughter?"
"I did. I knew it would emotionally tie your hands. We needed someone strong and capable enough to pull this off without their being obvious ties back to us. Who not better to employ than our enemy? But do not act as if I am so cold-hearted. I knew that her safety and return would basically be guaranteed once you were involved." The father explains.
"I wonder how Eursala will feel when she finds out her father is a cold-hearted dickhead, who puts an organization of gloved jerkoffs over his own daughter?"
"Wonderful wordplay. Do you plan to tell her I put her in this predicament?" The father ask.
"Why wouldn't I?" Cordayl responds.
"Because she is a far more sensitive being than you realized in your short stint with her. After such a traumatic experience, finding out her core support group is not to be trusted might lead her down a darker path than the one her dickhead father can provide.
"It might be easy for you to fight your demons alone, but are you 100% certain she can? Just something to consider, but follow your conscience, of course." The father says, that stupid smirk returning to his face.
Cordayl shakes his head. "Just tell me where to find this guy. I am sick of you white glove members."
"Very well. He is in the cave at the bottom of the ocean."
"How many guards?" Cordayl follows up.
"One. The only one necessary. The cave is said to be haunted by the souls he has claimed." Eursala's dad explains.
"Spooky. So which current gets me there?" Cordayl ask feeling through the water.
The dad laughs. "It's behind me. We've tried this before, but I think our chances are the highest."
"Guess we'll find out soon. Should I be expecting a fight after I break him out?"
"Nobody has ever successfully made it out, so I would assume yes." Eursala's father replies.
"Cool. Well, I'm adding your name to my list, but hopefully we never meet again."
Eursala's dad chuckles "I am honored. A pleasure as always, Cordayl." He says, tipping his hat and swimming off.
Cordayl swims forward a bit but pulls up, feeling an intense pull out of nowhere. Looking down, Cordayl stares into darkness as he peers into an endless trench.
An eerie sound can be heard coming out of the abyss. Cordayl calms himself, and without any further hesitation, he jumps off the edge.
Descending towards the bottom, Cordayl can feel the water get colder and colder as it pulls him deeper and deeper into its light-deprived depths.
Finally reaching the bottom, Cordayl can feel the crushing gravity and realizes again why he was chosen for this job. It takes Cordayl's eyes longer than usual to adjust, but he soon notices that there is nothing in sight. All he feels is a slight tug in an aimless direction.
Deciding not to overthink it, Cordayl follows whatever force is pulling him and walks with it.
Cordayl walks for what feels like hours until he finally sees a dim blue light in the distance. The force seems to be leading him to the light, so he continues until he reaches the mouth of a random cave.
Walking through the cave, Cordayl is relieved when it finally leads to an open area, lit all around with torches burning blue. Cordayl can see two men in the cave's center and walks forward.
One man is sitting in a chair, watching TV, while the other is chained to the floor.
The prisoner notices Cordayl, staring at him the whole time he walks up to them.
Cordayl nods at the prisoner but walks to speak to the man watching the television. "So, I'm assuming you are the guard?"
"Kind of a downgrade for me, but I guess I would be considered the guardian of this one." The man says, flipping the channel, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
Cordayl notices the screen and is confused by what the man is watching. "What are you watching?" Cordayl asks.
"Life. Those living it and those about to lose it." The man says, as he stops on the channel of a rodeo clown.
The clown is distracting the bull and entertaining the crowd at the same time, but suddenly he trips over his big ass shoes. As quickly as he gets up, he isn't fast enough, as the bull rams the man in the back, sending him flying into the cage.
The other clowns rush to intervene, but it is too late by the time they do, and the crowd's cheers are now replaced with disgusted silence.
The man sits there emotionless as he simply pulls a strand of hair from his head.
Letting the hair sink to the floor, the hair transforms into a pale hooded figure and is given the order to show the soul the way home.
"Who are you?" Cordayl curiously asks.
"The guard remember." The man responds.
"No, really," Cordayl asks.
"I've gone by many names, most lost with time, the death of civilizations, or the crumbling of empires. The only one that always rings a bell to everyone is the Grim Reaper." The man states.
"Interesting. Honor to meet you." Cordayl says.
"Likewise, Cordayl. I gotta say, you have been one of my favorite channels to watch the last few months." GR says.
"You've been waiting to see me die?" Cordayl asks.
"Exact opposite. I've been watching to see who you kill. You've knocked off some pretty strong souls. It's always impressive to see how you come out victorious. A shame, though. Some of those souls would have lived for decades had they not let their egos get the best of them." GR says, as a clone splits off to refresh a beverage Cordayl didn't notice. "Want one?"
"No thanks." Cordayl says. GR walks towards him with a second glass in hand anyway. "Really, I'm fine." Cordayl repeats.
"Heard you the first time," GR says, walking past him and placing the glass before the prisoner. As the prisoner drinks through a straw infused with his breathing apparatus, GR continues talking, "You do have a bad habit, I've noticed."
"And what's that?" Cordayl asks.
"You tend to fight to your opponent's level," GR tells him.
"Maybe I just take longer to warm up," Cordayl responds.
"Maybe, but it's a bad habit," GR states.
"Well, its worked for me so f-"
"And when it doesn't?" GR asks, suddenly standing right in front of Cordayl.
"What happens when you meet an enemy with just as much strength as you? Just as much power? And the difference between you walking home and me carrying you there was something as stupid as a warm-up?" GR asks, standing over him.
"Are you referring to yourself?" Cordayl asks, the question boiling his blood to the point that it warms up the water.
"I've seen your scuffle with Lucy. No doubt in my mind you are a warrior through and through. But you want to know the difference between us?" GR bends over till he is in Cordayl's ear. "Lucy was willing to fight you. He wouldn't dare look me in the eye."
"No disrespect, well maybe a little, but I'm not Lucy," Cordayl whispers back.
GR steps back and stares Cordayl in the eyes. There is no blinking or movement, as the two dare the other to make a fist.
GR suddenly smirks. "I like you Cordayl. When you pass, I will personally bring you home."
"And on that day, I will take you up on that drink," Cordayl smirks.
"Looking forward to it." GR replies, "Hold out your hand." GR ask. Cordayl listens, and GR places his empty glass in Cordayl's palm. Cordayl is confused at first, but then the glass turns into mist, and in Cordayl's hand is a set of keys.
"That's it? No big fight?" Cordayl asks.
"Not with me. But if you came down here to free that menace over there, you'll have plenty of conflict on your hands soon enough." GR states, returning to the TV.
"He seems pretty cool so far," Cordayl says, trying to find the right key to the chains on the man's hands.
"Looks can be deceiving. Undo the chains, but leave his hands bound in those prisms. I don't want him touching anything in here." GR says.
"Damn, I get he probably hasn't washed his hands in a while, but they can't be that dirty," Cordayl says to himself.
"Trust me, the grime on his fingers will never wash off. You know who he is right?" GR ask.
"The previous leader of this white hand club and the father of the guy who trapped me," Cordayl replies, finally finding the correct key to undo the first chain.
Finally released from its suspension, the caged hand slowly slams into the solid sand floor, bringing up a cloud of sediment as it softly lands.
"Yes. He is one of the originators of that pompous cult who think it's their responsibility to control the masses and maintain their false dynamic of power. Arrogant bunch of twats." GR mutters.
"Well, if that's how you feel, why haven't you taken them out?" Cordayl ask.
"Although he is my responsibility, my position does not grant me the right to intervene in the events of human life. I am only to safely guide the souls home where they are to be judged at a later time." GR responds.
Cordayl ponders as he tries to find the correct key for the second chain. "You know, you used the word guardian earlier. And just now you said 'my responsibility.' Would I be wrong to assume this prisoner is your son?"
"Indeed he is. A terrible waste of potential." GR states.
"Why is that?" Cordayl asks as he finally finds the right key.
"Because I wanted him to replace me. Being immortal gets tiresome after a while. You should have some understanding of that being friends with Prince."
"I guess," Cordayl says, getting a little down at the mention of his dead friend as he works on the chain around the prisoner's neck. Changing the subject, Cordayl asks, "How long has he been down here?"
"Around 30 years. If not for you I wouldn't let him see the light of day." GR states.
"Still a chance to stop me?" Cordayl hints.
This gets a chuckle out of GR. "Never shy to a fight these days, huh?"
"I consider it a form of therapy," Cordayl replies. Finally, unleashing the chain. Now, working on the guard around the mouth, GR stops him.
"That's the only thing allowing him to breathe down here," GR says, a clone standing up and walking towards him.
"Well Cordayl, he is your problem now. I know your hands are tied, but let me tell you now, you think what you did to that kingdom was bad, you have no idea what he plans to do with the world. Enjoy whatever deal they gave you while it last, and keep that fighting spirit strong." GR says, shaking Cordayl's hand.
Accepting the handshake, a strange energy is transferred to Cordayl and upon release, he sees GR wink at him. "Until next time."
"Thank you?" Cordayl says, looking down at his palm, confused about what he just felt.