Iterum: A Finis Work

A/N: It's recommended that you completely read "Finis" and "Before the End" prior to embarking on reading this story. 

Chapter 1: A Whole New World

 

The King of the Ladder catapulted through his portal, through space and time. 

 

Generally, travels through portals were instantaneous journeys. Or, at least, they had been very, very short journeys, at least, as far as the King could tell. 

 

But this was not a short journey. This was a very long journey, and the King was alone with only his thoughts. 

 

He had witnessed the power of Finis. The thing was invincible. Truly invincible. The Principal and the Parkour Master most certainly would have fallen to him. They were strong, but Finis was stronger. 

 

Where was he even going? And why was it taking so long? How far away was his destination, that it was taking him this long to get there? 

 

Something was happening. The King practically felt little parts of himself fleck away as he warped at the speed of thought, the power that the Devil and the Mayor had given him being stripped from him. No universe-busting power in him anymore. 

 

And it was just as well, for the portal was to end right then. The King only caught a glimpse of concrete for an instant before pain and darkness overtook him. 

 

OOO

 

“Hey. Hey, wake up.” 

 

The King raised his hand up to his mouth and began to chew at air feebly, expecting a bagel there to heal him. 

 

There was no bagel. The KOTL’s body remained as battered as it was before. 

 

The King groaned a groan. It was a kingly groan, a groan of enormous proportions. 

 

“Hey! Keep it down, will you?” 

 

The King flailed, trying to find an object to help him get up. He failed in this goal, remaining on the ground. 

 

How have you been reduced to something so pathetic? His body was not working, but the little voice in his head was quite healthy. It sounded a bit like Finis, now that the King thought about it. 

 

Fighting against the voice, the royal managed to get up on his hands and knees. 

 

“Ah, you’re strong. Now, look at me when I’m talking to you.” 

 

The King obliged, and the shock that ran through him threatened to make him collapse once more. 

 

It was Music Man. 

 

“My God!” The King buried the other fellow in his arms. 

 

“I saw you die… I saw you die twice…” 

 

“Now, now.” Music Man gently pushed the King off him. 

 

Music Man was a sight. He’d apparently traded in his old, grunge outfit for an extremely uncomfortable-looking suit and tie. His hair was combed, his shoes shined. Pinned to the front of his shirt was a somewhat frightening black insignia. 

 

“What… what happened to you?” 

 

“I am alive. The multiverse is alive,” Music Man explained. “I’m not exactly sure how, or why. You’d have to ask the Doctor for that. He’s the smart one of the gang, after all.” 

 

“Right, right.” 

 

Classical small talk allowed the King to examine his surroundings. You don’t become King without learning how to make classical small talk that allows you to examine your surroundings. 

 

The area was certainly very strange. Tall, futuristic-looking buildings abandoned. A metro zoomed by at several hundred miles per hour. It looked to be a gigantic city metropolis. 

 

The alley that the duo was currently standing in, however, was quite dirty. Trash bags, some unidentifiable liquid in the corner. The smell was putrid, and there was almost no light at all save for what seemed to be the slight glowing of Music Man’s insignia. 

 

“Er, what’s the plan? What are we meant to do?” 

 

“Here, follow me.” Music Man got up and began to walk out the alley, and without much of a choice, the King followed. 

 

OOO

 

The two of them made a strange pair - one man in the elegant suit, the other stumbling about in golden rags. Passerby - all of whom were dressed similar to Music Man, incidentally - didn’t seem all too concerned about it, though. Perhaps strange things like this were commonplace for them. 

 

Up ahead was unmistakably the destination Music Man was dragging them both towards - a rather large, important-looking building. The others seemed to be ceding space to it, allowing it to triumphantly stand proud in the center of it all. People swarmed in, and people swarmed out. 

 

The King squinted as they walked in, the fluorescent lights above ridiculously harsh. After a brief moment, he was able to pick out the Doctor standing in the corner, his white lab coat exchanged for a black one. The same insignia as Music Man’s adorned his own attire as well. 

 

Scattered around the room was the strange sight of several empty suits of the Knight’s armor. Working at the front desk was a rather severe-looking receptionist. 

 

“Hm. Is this the Quartet’s new headquarters?” the King wondered aloud. “I never knew that you guys had things so decked out.” 

 

“Is he the one?” the receptionist asked without looking up from her papers. 

 

“Yes,” Music Man replied. 

 

“Er, guys? What’s going on?” 

 

The receptionist tapped a button on a remote control, and the dozen or so Knight suits around the room suddenly came to life, twelve Saws revving. 

 

“Sir King. I recommend that you submit quietly,” Music Man warned. “Just make this easier on all of us.” 

 

The King stood for a moment, examining everything. 

 

“If you were the real Music Man, you would already know what my answer is.”  

 

Chapter 2: The Battle of U-11 HQ

 

The King pulled out his hammer from hammerspace. He felt his coins in there, too. His own personal pocket dimension had travelled with him, thank goodness. 

 

The Doctor in this timeline seemed to be about the same as the normal Doctor, for the instant that the King pulled out his hammer, he turned and fled, screaming in fear at the top of his lungs. 

 

Actually, no. That wasn’t quite true. The real Doctor had lain down his life to give the King a chance. This guy - this was not the Doctor. Only a pale imitation in black. 

 

One of the Knights sauntered up to the King slowly and swung their Saw slowly. A few forceful coin tosses managed to give the King an opening to drop his hammer directly onto the Knight’s chestplate. 

 

It didn’t even leave a scratch. It did have enough force to push the Knight away, though, giving the King an opportunity to start running around. 

 

The way in was much too obvious of an option. Locked. The windows didn’t seem viable, either - where had those unobtanium bars come from? The Doctor had went somewhere, perhaps he could follow? 

 

Thoughts of escape were suddenly interrupted by a charging sound. The King dove to the side on instinct just in time to avoid several giant lasers being shot. 

 

They had come from the helmets of the Knights. 

 

“What on earth is this?” the King exclaimed, bewildered. 

 

“You fool!” Music Man roared. “Are you not aware of the indestructible Robo-Knights!” 

 

The lasers hadn’t even left a mark on the door, which just convinced the King further that it was no option at all. The hallway that the Doctor had run down - that would be it. 

 

The King began to make a mad dash, deeper into the facility. Running quickly had never really been his strong suit, but speed tends to increase when one isn’t carrying hundreds of pounds in armor. In addition, trying to save one’s own life is also a pretty powerful motivator. 

 

The Doctor was hurriedly closing doors behind him with a remote in his hand. The King smashed his way through them with the hammer, the Robo-Knights hard on his tail. Lasers blasted all over the place, and what seemed to be missiles and grenades were being used as projectiles along with blades from the Saw. 

 

“This is utter madness!” the King cried out. 

 

“You haven’t seen anything yet!” Music Man retorted. “Don’t! Stop me now!” 

 

Music Man placed his boom box behind him and unleashed a great amount of sound, propelling himself forward at a ridiculous speed. Robo-Knights were blown backwards by the force of it as Music Man caught up to the King. 

 

The King himself had also caught up to the Doctor, whose hysterical screams had only been increasing in volume. He swung his hammer back and forth, back and forth, each swing getting closer to his target. 

 

But not before Music Man shot into him like a rocket, slamming him into the wall violently. 

 

The King turned around and smashed Music Man against the wall before slamming him twice with the hammer. The crunching of bones was painfully loud. Abandoning the man on the floor, the insane pursuit of the Doctor carried on. 

 

For about two seconds. Suddenly, the Doctor turned around and stuck his leg out. 

 

The King had not been expecting this. The commonplace trick that can be found anywhere in the omniverse worked, and the King tripped. 

 

The Doctor howled in pain, the heavy weight of the King almost snapping his leg in two, but it did the job. A soundwave engulfed the King, rendering him damaged and immobile for the second time in only fifteen minutes. 

 

“King, did you really think that you’d be able to escape?” Music Man tutted, dragging himself along. “You’ve lost. And I will sing no req-” 

 

A gigantic explosion suddenly obliterated the nearby wall. Chunks of rubble flew everywhere, blocking the corridor. The trio of seriously beaten-up characters were all slammed against the opposite wall. 

 

Out of the gaping hole in the building strode a dark-haired young woman neatly dressed in a white blouse and jeans. All eyes still capable of seeing, however, were on the excessively formal white top hat on her head. 

 

“Hey, KOTL. It’s time to get out of here.” 

 

The King was having a seriously bad day. First, all his friends had died. Then, edgy evil versions of them were now trying to kill him. And now, he felt like he was going to die. It definitely felt like he was going to die. And also, he was trapped under some rubble. Just to top it all off, because it wasn’t bad enough. 

 

Summoning vestiges of strength and will that he didn’t even know he had, the King pushed the rubble off, got to his feet, and stumbled in what he supposed was the general direction that he needed to go. 

 

A portal. A friendly portal that would be quick and wouldn’t depower him. A nice cushion in front of him, and the King was down for the count. 

 

Chapter 3: Four of a Kind

 

The King was sitting at a hardwood table, munching on one of those ever-useful bagels and wondering just how the heck he managed to get himself into this strange situation. 

 

The girl across the table snapped her fingers to get his attention. 

 

“Hey. We’ve only got three bagels left, alright? I can’t have you getting injured all the time like that.” 

 

“Er.” Classic diplomatic strategy seemed to be failing the King at the moment, which meant that it must have been time to switch to normal conversation. 

 

“Thank you, for saving my life. What’s your name, again?” 

 

“Madeleine. Madeline Hatter.” 

 

“Your last name… is Hatter?” 

 

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?” Madeleine tilted her head to the side slightly, as though genuinely confused by the King’s statement. Despite the slanting, the white hat remained firmly on her head. 

 

“No, no. In any case, I do believe I’m in desperate need of exposition. Could you provide me with any?” 

 

“Sure, yeah. I’m sure some other folks would like some as well, no?” She grinned and winked, as though sharing a private joke. 

 

“Yes, yes. Now. What happened? How does reality exist?” 

 

“Oh. You’ve got those kinds of questions. Well, in that case, you’re better off asking them.” 

 

As if on cue, two men walked into the room. 

 

It was Music Man and the Doctor. 

 

The King sprung to his feet instantly and pulled out his hammer, dropping into a fighting stance. 

 

Music Man held up two hands placatingly. “Now, now, we’re on your side. We’re double agents. Spies on the inside.” 

 

“Is that why you nearly killed me?”

 

“Why do you think that the Robo-Knights all missed with their lasers and missiles and bombs?” the Doctor inserted. 

 

“Because I dodged them.” 

 

“Well, yes, but also because we weren’t actually trying to hit you.” 

 

“The injuries that I have sustained tell me otherwise.” 

 

Madeleine politely cleared her throat, which somehow caused the argument to cease. 

 

“Thank you.” She looked at each of the other people in the room for a moment before continuing. “Let’s get back on track. Doctor, could you please explain to the King what’s going on?” 

 

“Yes. Yes. So, the council of Doctors -”

 

“The Council of Doctors?” 

 

“Why, yes!” the Doctor replied enthusiastically. “A society of alternate versions of the Doctor from across the multiverse, across all universes and timelines and dimensions, holding an intellectual forum together. Oh, but now that I mention it, I have to describe its organizational structure in full.” 

 

“No. You don’t.” The Music Man that the KOTL knew usually wasn’t this impatient, but it was still difficult to get it through in his head that the two were different. 

 

“In any case, we’ve determined that your universe sort of… died.” 

 

“Yes, I’m aware of that. I was there.” 

 

“This universe is an alternate universe that somehow connects to your timeline should you go far enough into the past. There’s alternate timelines, of course. Ones where the multiverse never came back, or it partially came back, or it came back completely normally. Technically, in those timelines, we don’t even exist!” 

 

“But how? How did the multiverse bring itself back together?” 

 

“We… actually don’t know,” the Doctor admitted. 

 

“Very well. So how did things end up like this? This is insanity. Robo-Knights?” 

 

“There’s a tyrannical government that’s been put into place.” The Doctor seemed to shrink a little as Music Man took control of the conversation. “At its head is a despotic, evil autocrat who has brought very nearly everything under his direct control. He’s called the Emperor.” 

 

Music Man and the Doctor both fiddled with insignias slightly, well aware of what they meant. 

 

“It’s practically a dystopia now.” Madeleine was apparently not to be upstaged with the exposition, despite having pawned the job off earlier. “He rules through complete order. This universe we’re in? It used to be called King of the Noobs, but now it’s just called U-11.” 

 

“U for universe,” the Doctor added. 

 

“King of the Noobs…” The King stroked his chin. “Is that not where the Parkour Master hails from? Can he be found around here?” 

 

The Doctor shook his head. 

 

“You see, the Parkour Master was never officially inducted into the multiverse. That’s pretty important. That process allows for the implantation of alternate versions of yourself across pan-reality. There was only ever one version of the PK, and now, well…” 

 

“So what’s with you?” the King asked, turning to Madeleine. “Do you just blow up government buildings every day?” 

 

“Well, no. I’m technically a fugitive. The Emperor would very much like to erase me from existence. It’s a good thing that Music Man is the one in charge of the search.” 

 

“Alright. This Emperor fellow doesn’t seem to be all that pleasant,” the King concluded. “It’s up to us to take him down then, right?” 

 

“I should mention. I’ve got an extra trick up my sleeve.” Music Man grinned.

 

A little girl who couldn’t be older than seven trotted in, hiding behind Music Man’s legs. Clearly, a bit shy. 

 

“This is Natalie Bishop. Now, I know she looks like a kid, but trust me, she’s got some tricks.” 

 

“What.. sort of tricks?” 

 

Natalie pulled out an extremely complicated-looking controller out of nowhere, and began to mash buttons rapidly. 

 

A Robo-Knight walked out of a nearby closet. 

 

“You have control over one of those machines?” the King noted in wonder. 

 

“And she can do it better than any AI,” Music Man declared proudly. 

 

“Wait, really?” 

 

“You would not believe how difficult it was just to get those damn things to stand!” the Doctor groaned. “And then we had to get them to stand for longer than ten seconds. And then walking. Walking! And don’t even get me started on sloped surfaces. I don’t even want to talk about -”

 

“Then don’t,” Madeleine cut in. 

 

“Right, yes, OK.” 

 

The King looked at the members of the Quartet, as strange as they seemed to him. A flicker of hope lit his heart. Maybe his own multiverse was gone, but this one still had a chance. 

 

“No.”

 

Time seemed to pause. Things seemed to take on a more mute, grey color. The Quartet all had frozen in place. 

 

The King looked left, right, forward, backward. There was nothing there. 

 

“Sir King.” 

 

Suddenly, right there was the figure in the black cloak. The King was technically a little taller than it, but it was a dream to even think that he could comprehend the other being’s power. 

 

“Finis. What do you want? Have you not taken enough?” 

 

“I have never taken enough.” 

 

Finis stepped a little closer. 

 

“You’re only lucky that I’m digesting the current universe. Once I’m through with it, I’ll finish my job, I swear it.” 

 

The King had no response. What could he say? He had no armor, no overpowered buffs, no friends other than the rag-tag bunch of people who didn’t quite live up to expectations. What was he to do? 

 

“We’ll speak again soon. Even transporting 0% of my power here is a struggle. Be grateful for that.” 

 

Finis vanished. Things returned to a normal hue. And the King collapsed, destroying the chair he was formerly sitting on. 

 

“Who’s going to clean that up?” Music Man wondered. 

 

“Touch your nose!” Madeleine laughed. 

 

Chapter 4: The Worlds a Stage

 

“My name’s the Doctor, not the Janitor. Get it right.” The business of moving the King around and cleaning up his mess was turning out to be quite difficult. 

 

“Hey, sweep harder,” Madeleine ordered. 

 

“I am technically an official of the Emperor. I could have you dead in a heartbeat.” 

 

“Empty threat.” 

 

The Doctor sighed. “Yes, empty threat.” 

 

“My God…” the King groaned. 

 

“Ah, he’s awake!” the Doctor noted excitedly. “Does that mean I don’t have to clean up this mess anymore!”

 

“Wh… what’s happening? Where’s Music Man?” 

 

“He took Natalie and left. Had to go back to his job.” The Doctor awkwardly stood about, picking his cuticles. 

 

The King rubbed his head. “You know, in all the stories that I’ve read, they’re rather brief, linear odysseys. I kind of get the feeling that this isn’t going to be like those stories.” 

 

“You’re not wrong,” Madeleine noted darkly. 

 

“So. You’re all different versions of my allies. Are they out and about somewhere in this multiverse?” 

 

The Doctor pulled out a piece of paper from his lab coat. “Well, the Parkour Master isn’t here in any capacity, as we’ve already said. Joseph Stalin is actually the Emperor’s right-hand man. He’s in charge of U-2.” 

 

“That’s the former Flipside. Where you guys are from, correct?” 

 

“Yes. And Cookie serves under him, patrolling the streets and stomping out any signs of rebellion.” 

 

“If I remember her correctly, she’s probably enjoying it.” 

 

The Doctor gave an unhappy-sounding chuckle. “That’s an understatement. In any case, the Octoling Shopkeeper helps run the commerce of the underground resistance. She’s helping to keep everyone alive with the resources that we need - at least, as best she can. Meanwhile, Francis Scott Key serves the Emperor in U-4, alongside the Old King Harold and Chuck Noris. They’re all working under King Ryan. He’s just a puppet now.” 

 

“King Ryan,” KOTL mused. “He practically controlled half the multiverse at one point. I can’t even imagine him as a puppet.” 

 

“Corrupted Sans and Flowey are currently somewhere in U-3. As far as I know, they’re just ordinary citizens. They’re not doing anything particularly exciting or special.”

 

“And that leaves us with the Clover. The Principal is gone. There seems to be no trace of him. Meanwhile, the Goose has actually been locked up.” 

 

The King burst out into laughter. “Funny joke, sir Doctor, but that’s literally impossible. No one can catch the Goose.” 

 

“Oh, but it is true.” The Doctor shook his head. “The Goose is locked in the deepest cell in the Empire’s strongest prison, Mortis Vincula. It has the most over-the-top security system you could imagine. I should know - I designed it.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on our side?” 

 

“I am. That Goose is a threat to everyone, trust me.” 

 

“Very well. Continue on, please.” The King fiddled with a coin. 

 

“The Jester serves as the sole personal guard of the Emperor. There’s some sort of dark energy that surrounds him, giving him powers. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.” 

 

“Oh, I’ve seen something like that before,” the King mumbled. 

 

“And finally, your own counterpart. Oddly enough, he’s just a young boy: the Prince of the Ladder. He’s been groomed in service for the Empire.” 

 

“That’s… so strange.” 

 

“Thank you, Doctor.” Madeline gave him a smile. For a fraction of a second, the King saw the same insanity that possessed the previous Hatter, and wondered just what this girl had been through. “Thank you for your explanation. You may go now.” 

 

“Um. Thank you. Ah, goodbye.” 

 

The Doctor walked over to the door, opened it, and vanished into the night. 

 

OOO

 

The King rubbed his temples. What a brickload of information to be hit with. 

 

“This is such a strange situation, I must admit. What’s our next course of action?”

 

Madeleine shook her head. 

 

“I don’t think you understand. This isn’t some single guy that’s easy to topple over. The Empire has existed for millenia. Millenia. What makes you think you can tear it down?” 

 

“I could feed you some story about how hope and love triumphs over everything. But it doesn’t. What wins the day in the end is power. And we have power, no?” 

 

“They have more power.” 

 

“So, what? Is that an excuse to sit around and do nothing, as tyrants continue to rule over every single soul there ever was and there ever will be?” 

 

Madeleine sat there and thought for a moment. 

 

“We should talk to the Octoling Shopkeeper first,” she finally said. “She’s in touch with all the underground’s leaders. If we want allies, we ought to talk to her.” 

 

“The Underground… is that what the name of our rebellion is?” 

 

“Hey, that’s catchy. I like it.”

 

“So we’ll get in touch with her, and she can help us out. Sounds like a plan.” 

 

Chapter 5: The Emperor’s Entrance

 

A bruised, battered, and broken Music Man dragged his way into the throne room of the Emperor. 

 

Well, to call it a “room”, wouldn’t exactly be accurate, per se. It was essentially a void. The void. A universe had once been here, swept away by neglect and whatever else that took it away. All that was left was endless nothingness. 

 

Sometimes, though, it didn’t feel like nothingness. Sometimes, it felt as though there was a wind. Other times, it was a magnetic pull. Perhaps it was some form of gravity. For an infinite void of nothing, there sure did seem to be a lot of things going on in it. 

 

The only reason why every single person present hadn’t already gotten sucked in and died was thanks to the unobtanium platforms scattered about. Suspended in the nothingness, they floated eerily, moving up and down slightly. 

 

A large number of portals to different universes were scattered across the platforms this way and that, one person or another always walking through them quickly. If one squinted very hard, far off in the void were more platforms - the working space of the bureaucracy that kept the Empire running. 

 

Music Man stumbled his way through, and this time, people did stop to look at him. It wasn’t every day that a person as powerful as he showed up so injured. 

 

And of course, the throne itself. One could not call it a throne room without it having a throne. At the end of the unobtanium hallway was an actual room. Cloaked in dark banners flying the symbol of the Empire, lit with torches filled with souls. 

 

The throne was made of unobtanium. How on earth the stuff had been cut to form the shape of a chair, no one had known. And it was perfect, too. Almost as though a machine had done it. 

 

Upon the chair sat the man in question. The unquestioned supreme commander and potentate of worlds. 

 

The Emperor. 

 

“Music Man.” 

 

The Emperor’s words did not exert a physical force. They didn’t need to. They were a physical force all of their own. 

 

Music Man knelt. “My Emperor.” 

 

The Emperor rose from his chair. Surprisingly, he wasn’t all that much taller than Music Man. 

 

With careful, measured steps, he walked over to Music Man, very nearly picked him up with a single hand, and offered a bagel. 

 

Music Man accepted it, wolfing it down and enjoying the terrific feeling of his wounds and injuries being fixed. It had been a painful few hours since he and the King had fought. 

 

“There’s no need to give me any sort of explanation.” The Emperor spoke with a careful, measured expression, seeming intent on getting his message into Music Man’s brain. “The prophecy has come true. You attempted to subdue the alien, only to be defeated. I commend you for your service.” 

 

“Thank you, my Emperor.” 

 

“Now. Could you be so kind as to describe who they were and what they did?” 

 

OOO

 

The Emperor kept his inner circle very, very tight. It was a requirement in order to consolidate one’s hold on power, and Joseph Stalin was a man who could respect that. 

 

Him, King Ryan, the Jester, and the Prince of the Ladder all engaged in a very delicate balance, vying for second-in-command. For the past 6000 years or so, Stalin had managed to barely shift things in his favor. It took an incredible amount of political shenanigans and careful killings, but the balance of power swung towards him for the past six millenia. He could proudly call himself the Emperor’s right-hand man. He was #2 in all of reality. 

 

But, of course, his foes were no fools. They were as educated as he was in classical diplomatic strategy. When there’s one enemy more powerful than the rest, everyone has to put aside their differences to bring them down. 

 

There was no way this could go on. He’d be lucky to keep his spot for another few centuries, let alone a full millennium. 

 

And that was what Stalin mused about, as he made his way to the King’s throne room. 

 

Technically, there was a time once when the four of them united. When there was one more powerful than all the rest, everyone has to put aside their differences to bring them down. And who was more powerful than the Emperor? 

 

That did not work out well. 

 

OOO

 

“Mr. Stalin. My right-hand man.” Technically, Stalin was taller than the Emperor, but he still felt tiny when standing next to him. Like a bug, about to be squashed. 

 

“I have a job for you.” 

 

“Of course, my Emperor. What would you have me do?” 

 

“I’m sure you’re aware of the prophecy. It’s come true.” 

 

Stalin very nearly choked. “Y… you don’t mean…” 

 

“I do mean.” The Principal turned away, marching back to his throne. 

 

“You will find the alien and dispatch him swiftly. Use whatever means necessary. Am I understood?” 

 

“Yes, my Emperor. Of course, my Emperor. Right away, right away.” 

 

Chapter 6: The Light of the Underground

 

Madeleine fiddled with a teleportation device that was not unlike the one the King had formerly seen in possession of the original Doctor. The thing beeped and booped and hissed, but did not create a portal. 

 

“I swear, he makes things so unnecessarily complicated,” she grumbled. “Things are so much harder when I can’t just throw a hat at it to fix the problem.” 

 

The King patiently sat to the side and polished his golden hammer with his golden robe. Eventually, after what was admittedly a long time, a portal flickered and flared to life. 

 

“Let’s go save the world,” Madeleine suggested. 

 

And so, the two of them jumped forward. 

 

OOO

 

The Underground’s central hub of commerce was very, very strange. All sorts of building materials appeared to have been used with no regard as to how it looked. Brick stood next to granite and stone. Mortar, what appeared to be super glue, and in some cases, literally duck tape held things together. 

 

Despite the fact that everything was indoors, though, there was no sense of claustrophobia. The place was absolutely massive. It put cathedrals and malls to shame. 

 

The King peeked through a crack between two cobblestones and saw a void. It was a void that he’d seen once before, in another world. 

 

“This is like no place we’ve ever seen. Where are we?” 

 

“Well, technically, we’re nowhere. We’re in-between universes, kind of. It’s just a void. Our resistance’s builders took whatever materials they could and made this. It’s a bit chaotic, but it’s ours.” 

 

“It’s… alright, actually,” the King decided. 

 

“Well, if you’re done gawking, let’s go.” Madeleine spun and marched off in a seemingly random direction, and the King hurried after. 

 

OOO

 

At the center of all the hubbub were several open tables, with many people working at them. Piles and piles of papers and gold were scattered all around, everyone in too much of a hurry to really be organized. Folks in hoodies and sweatpants worked shoulder-to-shoulder with people dressed in colonial-era attire, standing with others dressed in futuristic power armor. It was madness, but it was working, somehow. 

 

In the center of the center was the Octoling Shopkeeper, seemingly typing at six computers all at once. She looked almost completely normal, besides a baseball cap and a bow tie, for some reason.

 

“Madeleine. Hello.” The Shopkeeper’s voice wasn’t cruel, per se, but definitely more clinical. Less childlike. “Who is this that you’ve brought?” 

 

“Octoling, meet the King of the Ladder.” 

 

The King bowed politely. 

 

“What’s up? What do you need?” 

 

The King cleared his throat. Suddenly, he felt a bit ridiculous. Who was he, trying to start some grand revolution? He wasn’t a king, not anymore. He didn’t control how things went. He shouldn’t be doing this. 

 

“You know, you’re right. For once in your life.” 

 

That immutable greyness returned. Everyone froze, and once again Finis appeared in the corner of the King’s vision. 

 

“If you’re saying that, then what I’m doing must be the correct course of action,” the King replied. “If you think that I should not do something, you better be sure that I’m going to up and do it.” 

 

“Very well. When your pathetic act of spite ends in its inevitable failure, don’t come crying to me.” 

 

The greyness passed, time started working correctly again, and the King cleared his throat once again. 

 

“I’ve come to you requesting aid,” the King began. “I want to save the multiverse, and you have the resources and connections to help with that.” 

 

The Octoling Shopkeeper scoffed. 

 

“Are you joking?” Now her tone was cruel, full of venom and bitterness. “Do you see how hard I’m working, just trying to keep the resistance alive? It’s difficult enough to keep the status quo. What would you even have me do?” 

 

“You’re running an entire economy here. Surely, that counts for something. That could be used for something. Wars are run off the back of a strong economy.” 

 

“You’re a starry-eyed idealist,” the Octoling dismissed him, returning to her work. “Go back to your own universe. You probably have rainbows and unicorns there.”

“My entire multiverse was wiped out.” This was apparently enough to shock the Shopkeeper, who swung around and began to pay attention to him again. “Do you want to start generalizing again?” 

 

“Alright, fine. Fine!” The Octoling Shopkeeper began to angrily throw some papers about, just for show. “Fine. I’ll support your cause. Out of pity. You got that? Is that clear?” 

 

“Crystal,” the King muttered. “Now, I was thinking that -”

 

Before the King had the opportunity to explain what he was thinking, the sounds of warfare and laser beams being fired emanated from somewhere. 

 

“Dammit! A raid, really?” The Octoling Shopkeeper pounded a fist against the table in frustration, causing the poor wooden furniture to break. 

 

She pulled out her ink gun. “Looks like I don’t have much of a choice anymore. I’m with you two.” 

 

“What’s going on? Who’s attacking us?” the King asked, somewhat worried. 

 

The sounds of laser cutting through flesh and the painful screams of the wounded flooded the area. And all the while, a male voice laughed an ugly laugh, seemingly delighting in the carnage. 

 

“There’s only one person this can be,” Madeleine noted. “You any good in a fight? Actually, you probably are, don’t even answer.” 

 

The King grabbed hold of his hammer, and against his better instincts, marched towards the sounds of pain and death. 

 

Chapter 7: Battle of the Shopping District 

 

The King, Madeleine, and the Shopkeeper dashed quickly, past shops and buildings of all shapes and sizes. Wide courtyards gave way to narrow alleyways, which led into more wide courtyards which led into more narrow alleyways. It was a complete maze. 

 

The destruction being spread was so wide, however, that it didn’t take long to find the root of the problem. 

 

Stalin strode about, cutting people and knocking over buildings with swings of his Saw. Behind him, the Robo-Knights slowly moved about, blasting things apart with their lasers. The few people around fled for their lives. None of them were successful. 

 

The communist was just in the process of crushing a helpless victim’s skull with his boot when he looked up and saw three lone people staring him down. 

 

“Ah! What do we have here?” Stalin mused. “An orphan, a capitalist, and a very special someone.” 

 

The Octoling loaded her ink gun. The staredown continued. 

 

“I know you’re probably not going to accept this, but please. Just hand over the King, and everything will be fine.” 

 

“You’re right. We’re not going to accept this,” Madeleine shot back. 

 

“Do you want to know something?” Stalin stroked his mustache. His eyelids drooped, as though he was deep in thought. 

 

“We allow your little resistance to exist.” The man smirked. He began to pace grandly about. “The Empire allows it to continue. Rebellion will always exist, and so we allow it to persist in the way that we want it to. Small, weak, and easily containable.”

 

“Now, then. I don’t have to destroy everything that you’ve built up. In fact, I don’t want to, either. That would take effort. So. Just let the King come with us, and we can keep the status quo. Deal?” 

 

“No,” three voices chorused back at him. 

 

Stalin sighed. “It was worth a shot. I hope you’ve all got backup vessels prepared. Let’s do this.” 

 

OOO

 

The Robo-Knights turned out to not be incompetent minions. Several laser beams and grenades flew through the air, and these didn’t look like they were going to miss. 

 

Madeleine expertly threw hats at each of the explosive devices, knocking them wildly off course. The King’s largest coin was more than enough to hold up to the lasers being shot at him. 

 

But now Stalin himself was coming in, grabbing his hammer and sickle and jumping into a gigantic attack. 

 

The King dove to the side. The Shopkeeper splatter ink upon the Robo-Knights, making them markedly incapable of getting out or doing much of anything. They creaked and groaned and fired attacks randomly, but not much seemed to be working. 

 

Jumping out of his dive, the King used his momentum to swing his hammer down at Stalin. Stalin returned it with a blow of his own, and the force of the two golden hammers colliding sent the both of them flying backwards several meters. 

 

In an extremely unfortunate happenstance, the Robo-Knights began to break free of their goop. The Octoling began to desperately fire more ink, trying to keep them at bay. 

 

The King hopped to his feet quickly, somewhat bruised but still healthy. Stalin got up as well, hurling his sickle at the King before even getting off his knees. 

 

A hat deflected the sickle off-course by a few inches. The King stepped to the side, and the thing flew by him. 

 

Stalin growled in frustration, pulled out his Saw, and emptied it of literally all of its blades. Hats and coins would not do a thing against razor-sharp metal heated several thousand degrees. 

 

The King ducked, jumped, dove, and dodged his way through the forest of projectiles, each coming within an inch of his body before he managed to move it out of the way. Without his armor, one of them even grazing him most certainly would have done some damage, but without his armor, none of them even had a chance. 

 

The Robo-Knights, in the meantime, were now hopelessly stuck and slowly dissolving. It seemed like whatever was in that ink was a perfect counter to the nearly indestructible material their armor was made out of. One by one, each of them began to fail and stop working, remaining trapped under heaps of the corrosive liquid. 

 

But Stalin was not content to go down easy. The blades he fired boomeranged back around, moving straight towards the King once again. 

 

The King continued his routine, dancing and jumping and weaving and performing all sorts of acrobatics. What a strange fighting style this was, all this moving around. He wasn’t getting tired - exhaustion was a concern for beings without good vessels - but it certainly did require a great amount of concentration and effort. He had always thought it simpler to simply tank the enemy attacks. 

 

The King’s philosophical thought process was interrupted by Stalin wildly swinging the Saw at him. The former Stalin swung his Saw slowly, but this guy was somehow swinging it around as easily as though it were a toy. 

 

The King tried to bring out his hammer, while also instinctively trying to dodge. He failed on both counts, getting cut deeply in the chest and being thrown backwards violently. 

 

The poor man hit the floor. His vision swam in and out, spots clouding his vision. He couldn’t move. He could scarcely breathe, was barely able to stay alive at all. He slumped his way into unconsciousness, the world leaving him. 

 

“Ha! You like that?” Stalin gloated. He unslung a standard army-issue automatic rifle from somewhere. Where did he get that? Why was he using it? “Get knocked out in one shot! Get ready to dOOOmPHA!” 

 

The Octoling Shopkeeper has shot a blast of ink directly into Stalin’s mouth. Stalin reacted as though this were acid, which it might as well have been. He clawed at his mouth, trying desperately to get the liquid out. 

 

Madeleine took this opportunity to throw an explosive hat at Stalin. Despite the man being in immense pain, he was still capable of stepping to the side and dodging it. 

 

“Ha!” Stalin laughed again. He immediately screamed in pain following this laugh - perhaps his throat had sustained injuries. 

 

“What a cheap trick, ganging up on me. Did you honestly think that would work?” 

 

Madeleine pointed behind him. 

 

“A second cheap trick! You truly fight with no honor. Did you really think I’d fall for that?”

 

The explosive hat bounced off the wall and ricocheted directly into Stalin, going off with a BOOM. 

 

Stalin was flung through the air, crashing into the ground unceremoniously. For all the strength and powers this guy had, he had nothing on the original Stalin’s durability. A single explosion would have tickled, not injured. 

 

A dark energy surrounded him - a clear sign of the Emperor’s power. The energy gathered, forming into the shape of the man. His voice boomed. 

 

“Don’t think that you can stand against me. You will die. All of you enemies of the Empire - you will die.” 

 

The energy gathered around the fallen form of Stalin, more and more and more, until finally, it teleported him away across space and time. 

Who's hyped for EVEN MORE of this stuff?

a

I am!

I can't post an empty message. I'm leaving that post there in case I need to put something in it. 

:0

I'm trying to evolve as a writer. This story is going to be slightly less linear than the big adventure things that serve as my template for literally every single thing I write. 

same

yes

Me

Neat. 

same

Say, what does Iterum mean?

Ah, now someone is asking the questions. Why don't you plug it into Google Translate and find out?

Can anyone follow me?     Or be my friend?

Iterum means "again, a second time" in Latin.

Very astute of you, Holo.

By the way, hello there. Thanks for stopping by. 

Sup holo

Hello there.

I'm doing Latin 2 currently.

general kenobi