Supreme Magus

Joke Chapter. Do not read before chap 57

Author's Note: this is just a parody of all the tropes that I experienced by reading all kind of book and novels. I do not mean to belittle them or their readers, is just a joke about the most abused tropes and cookie cutter scenes that recur very often, no matter the author.

Let me know in the comments if you liked it. I will either keep it in the auxiliary chapters or delete it, based on your response.

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That morning the classroom was already filled to the brim. Several teachers of the academy were gathered there for no reason at all. Powerful mages always had too much free time at their disposal.

Suddenly, a youth walked in. He was handsome and unrestrained, exuding an aura of confidence that made evident him being a peerless genius. His presence became more overbearing with every step.

"Dear heavens! Who is that youth of unparalleled manliness?" The female students were of course top tier beauties, wearing long chi-paos that revealed ample part of their generous bosom and let them show their long jade like legs from the side slit.

Soon blood rushed to the face and the most private parts of the young and pure maidens, making them bloom like red roses.

The handsome youth was of course Lith, our protagonist. His black, silky hair moved with each stride, his smile was filled with nothing but unrestrained power. He knew that in that small world he was peerless beyond reason.

Dazzled by his appearance, the professors decided to test his wits, so see if such overbearing talent really belonged to a true genius.

"What do you think about the Dao of magic, young master?" Said an old man whose beard almost reached the floor.

"Such an easy question." Lith's boundless self-confidence filled the whole room with admired gasps. He was the kind of man that every woman wanted, and every man wanted to be.

"He who strikes first, strikes twice. Buy low, sell high." His reply made the male audience turn green with envy.

"So young yet so wise and knowledgeable about Taoism and philosophy! He truly understands the Dao! Heavens don't have eyes! Why him? He is just commoner trash! Why it couldn't be me?

I come from the [insert pompous name here] family. We have hundreds of years of artifacts and legacies, yet I am nothing compared to him!" Everyone thought.

The female audience, instead, had already fallen head over heels for him. All that they could think about was how to capture his manly heart and how many children of him they wanted to bear in their wombs.

But Lith hadn't finished yet.

"The cat is on the table. It's a quarter from nine."

Those simple words revealed a profound and unfathomable wisdom. Soon the professors realized that it would take them years to understand the truth about the Dao that was hidden behind those words.

At the same time, the female audience raised the baby count by one, some even by three. They were healthy young ladies, after all.

Soon the evil envious prince from the powerful Envy family couldn't take it anymore.

"You are courting death!" He bellowed.

He moved with unbelievable speed, arriving in front of Lith in the blink of an eye. He was the most nondescript character one could imagine. The only defining trait he had was a T-shirt saying: "Hi, I'm the bad guy."

"You trash, how dare you taint this sacred halls with your presence? Kowtow to me nine times and call me your grandpa, and I promise I will not kill you."

The professors gasped. They were all archmages, hundreds of years old. But what was their pride, the school honour, not to mention nonsense like the rules of the kingdom in front of that youth?

He was Prince Bad Guy from the Envy family, whose power they didn't dare to offend. So, like the archmages they were, they squealed some pathetic excuse and hid in the background.

"Poor Lith, he is destined to die. No one can offend the Envy family and live to tell the tale." They thought as one.

Lith was unaffected by both his words and t-shirt.

"You are just a side character, scram!" With a wave of his hand, Lith sent Bad Guy crashing into the wall, keeping him alive for no reason other than to gloat at his misfortune.

Bad Guy coughed a mouthful of blood, his bones were crushed, his internal organs bleeding, his dantian almost crippled, but his ego was stronger than ever.

"Uncle! Please save me! This b*stard dared to hit me! So despicable! Why did you refuse to die when I politely asked you to?"

Lith wanted to reply to such senseless words, but another nondescript character appeared. He was older than Bad Guy, and his t-shirt recited: "I'm the Uncle."

The professors were so scared by his appearance that they hid in the previous page of this very same chapter, trying to escape his fury.

"That's the legendary Bad Guy's Uncle! Now Lith is really done for! He refused a toast only to drink a defeat."

"Who dares to hurt my nephew? I'm Uncle [insert boring wannabe threatening speech here] from the Envy family. Cripple your dantian and cut your own arms, and maybe I will let you live as a dog."

"Such a compelling offer." Lith sneered.

"But you are a side character as well. I have no time to waste, scram and make the final boss appear!" Lith sneezed, and the power of that simple move broke down Uncle's body and will, sending him crashing in the wall right beside Bad Guy.

"Oh Patriarch! Please avenge us!" He said coughing a mouthful of blood before passing out.

"Who dares to defy the Envy family?"

A heaven-defying bellow shook the whole academy, while Patriarch Final Boss descended from the sky.

"Oh God! It's Patriarch Final Boss from the Envy family! We are here by accident, we don't belong in this novel!" The professors left the pages of the novel, running for their lives.

His nondescript character's t-shirt saying: "I'm the Final Boss" was all the proof of identity anyone could ever need.

"I admit you have some talent, young MC. But it's time that this story goes back to its rightfully tracks! It belongs to my Envy family!"

Lith laughed coldly.

"Did you even bother reading the title? It's Supreme Magus, not The Envy Chronicles! Enough wasting pages, do your worst!"

"How dare you correct me when I am so wrong even a blind, deaf and dumb man would notice? Take this hit if you dare!"

Final Boss unsheathed the Black Phoenix Evil God Cyber Monday Sword, a peerless artifact that the Envy family had passed on through the generations.

The sword light was filled with boundless power and knowledge, sword intent could be clearly seen piercing time, space and even the Author's patience that was growing short with so many filler words in the same sentence.

The audience felt like Mount Tai was falling down from the sky, the pressure of that strike was unbearable even for the spectators. No one could possibly imagine what Lith was feeling under such killing intent.

It was pure and unrestrained boredom!

Lith didn't move from his spot, simply ripping open his robe, he revealed what was hidden inside.

The world class beauties, imagining him to be stark naked underneath, experienced non-stop nosebleed, to the point that the most delicate ones fainted on the spot.

The simple idea of his dancing chiselled pecs, big enough to play chess over them, and a six-ab pack hard enough to act as a washboard was too much for a young maiden's mind to take.

But Lith wasn't naked, on the contrary.

Under his robe, lied the strongest weapon of all creation.

"Oh my God!" Said a professor that had tripped in the webpage address, and hence was still there.

"Shiny as silver, light as silk but durable without equals!"

"No! It cannot be!" Even Final Boss, despite still performing his strike was able to catch a glimpse of the true nature of his opponent.

"That's right!" Lith laughed a handsome, overbearing, manly, peerless, genius laughter.

"It's the legendary plotinum armour, better known as plot armour!"

"Hi there! I'm the Author!" The armour said. "Now scram! I'm not gonna change the title of my work for a nondescript cookie cut character like you!"

"Nooooo!" When the sword and the Plot Armour collided, Final Boss disappeared from existence, and so did Bad Guy and Uncle.

And so Lith lived happily ever after, never knowing exactly how many members his harem reached, despite having an intimate knowledge of every and each one of them.

Volume 2 Glossary

Author's Note: This isn't a chapter. It's just a list of the characters in the volume 2 in order of appearance, to help the readers remember who is who. Skip this if you have yet to read Volume 2 or if your memory doesn't need help.

White Griffon Academy staff:

Headmaster Linjos : The young headmaster of the White Griffon academy, tryin to reform the institution on behalf of the Queen.

Professor Jian Trasque: Holds the "Theory of Combat Magic" class, teaching the students the importance of first (chore) magic and how to use it to survive close encounters, when fake magic is not available.

Professor Valesa Nalear: Holds the "Principles of Advanced Magic" class, teaching the students a method exclusive to the six big academies on how to cast tier four spells and above.

Professor Vastor: Professor in charge of the Healer specialization class.

Professor Duke Marth: Head of the White Griffon Light Department. A brilliant mage and the only one capable to handling Manohar. Dittomarth's Cameo.

Professor Krishna Manohar: Nicknamed the "god of healing", is a genius mage with a wild and temperamental attitude. Eddicted's Cameo.

Professor Lyca Wanemyre: Professor in charge of the Forgemaster specialization class.

Professor Rugan Thorman: Professor in charge of the Mage Knight specialization class.

White Griffon Academy relevant students:

Yurial Deirus: Son of archmage Deirus, undertaking two specializations: Healer and Warden.

Friya Solivar: Daugher of Duchess Solivar, undertaking two specializations: Healer and Mage Knight

Quylla from Cerea: An orphan from a backwater village, aiming to become a Healer like Lith. Before coming to the academy, she suffered from a bad case of malnutrition.

Visen De Brae: Part of Lith's Group during the Mock Exam. He is studying to become a Warden.

Milna Kratic: Part of Lith's Group during the Mock Exam. She is studying to becomea War Mage.

Phloria Ernas: Part of Lith's Group during the Mock Exam. She is studying to becomea Mage Knight.

Belia Ulphar: Part of Lith's Group during the Mock Exam. She is studying to becomea Battle Mage.

Forest Creatures:

Scarlett: Boss of the forest, is a giant powerful Scorpicore that helps supervising the exams that take place in the wilderness. Scarlett's Cameo.

M'Rook: A Ry (Lusername Cameo), a wolf type magical beast. Scarlett second in command and leader of an elite squad.

Sentar: A Cron,a hawk type magical beast. Member of the elite squad under M'Rook.

Termyn: A Cingy, a boar type magical beast. Member of the elite squad under M'Rook.

Prologue

Author note: the story starts in

. The prologue introduces the MC and explains his background. Feel free to skip it if you are not interested, but as the author, I recommend reading it.

No matter if you were an optimist or a pessimist, Derek McCoy's life couldn't be judged to be either good or bad. It was just a mediocre, insignificant existence.

His father was bipolar and during his depressive episodes, he would disappear into his bedroom for days. He would emerge solely to eat, use the bathroom and for the occasional 'let's make your life miserable' fit of rage.

During his manic episodes, he would work like a madman, but not having any talent as a businessman nor as a social climber, he was unable to become successful and establish connections.

Whenever he decided to actually take his medication, he was just a couch potato that would stand up and go to work only to avoid being despised by his neighbors and peers.

Whatever his mental condition was, he was always a perfect example of an abusive father.

In his eyes, his sons were always a disgrace.

They never studied hard enough, they were never obedient enough, nor showed him the respect he demanded.

He considered it his paternal duty to remind them that such things weren't tolerated under his roof.

He would yell at them for the slightest mistake, constantly repeating to them that they were just parasites, leeching off his hard work to survive.

When words weren't enough, or when they failed to meet his expectations with school grades or chores, there was no teacher like his leather belt.

Hence, Derek and Carl had quickly learned how to fend for themselves. Their absent-minded mother had forgotten about them right after giving birth. She dedicated her life to the pursuit of peace and quiet, staying as far as possible from her spouse's tantrums.

Derek was two years older and he tried to take care of his little brother in every way that he could, but to no avail.

They grew up reading stories about heroes protecting the weak and upholding justice, yet no hero ever appeared to save them.

Every week, they would be forced to go to church to worship a nondescript benevolent god and his son, the savior of all mankind. No matter how much they prayed or how good they were, no miracle occurred.

After begging the heavens proved to be useless one time too many, they simply stopped believing in heroes and they crammed instead of wasting time with prayers.

School was their oasis, but that lasted only until sixth grade.

Once they started middle school, it didn't even take a month before the bullying started.

Their cheap clothes and gloomy dispositions made them easy targets. They were so used to being tossed around and insulted that they didn't even bother trying to fight back.

For a long time, Derek considered it the worst time in his useless life. After a month, he knew he could not take any more of that, so he tried to make things better.

He reported his father's abuse to social services with an anonymous email, but being overworked and understaffed, the social worker made a brief visit and never came back.

Then he tried to end the bullying by reporting their aggressors to a teacher, who in turn washed her hands of the problem by reporting the matter to the principal. The principal did not want to meddle in what he deemed as childish pranks.

He called Derek's parents to inform them of the problem, hoping they would let it slide. The principal's wish came true, whereas Derek took an extra beating for not being man enough to face his own problems.

"Are you really so stupid that you never learned anything from me? Never delegate! If you want something done right, do it yourself!"

Derek had never felt so helpless and desperate. That night he bawled his eyes out until he fell asleep. That had been the last straw.

The following day, he felt different, clear-headed like never before. It was not the time for despair anymore, he needed a plan.

It would take him years to realize that something inside him had died. He was no longer able to trust, hope, or develop any sense of kinship. He was surrounded by enemies and to survive he needed to be able to fight back.

So, Derek asked his father to let him join a dojo and learn martial arts. To his surprise, he did not have to beg nor even ask twice.

Derek's old man was glad that his wimpy, scrawny, and all-around poor excuse for a child was finally interested in becoming a man. His only condition was that Derek was not allowed to quit for at least one year, otherwise he would make him regret wasting his hard-earned money.

Not only did Derek start practicing Jiu-jitsu almost daily, he would also wake up two hours earlier every single day to build muscles doing push-ups, squats, sit-ups and running until he was out of breath.

In a few months, he was able to do 100 push-ups, sit-ups, squats and run for at least 10 kilometers every day before going to school.

Jiu-jitsu soon proved to be a perfect choice for his situation. At low level, it was mainly focused on self defense, but there was plenty of space for attacking and fighting dirty.

By practicing martial arts, he finally discovered something he was good at. He was not particularly nimble, nor a fast learner. His hand to eye coordination was also average at best.

His talent lied in the ability to exploit the best time to hit a sensitive spot during a block or a defensive maneuver.

Even when the sensei was teaching sword or tanto arts, Derek was always able to grasp the killer moves on his first try, sometimes even before the sensei completed the practical demonstration.

It was an exciting yet disappointing discovery, since his only talent had no practical use. Even if Jiu-jitsu was a sport with tournaments, hits to the groin, eyes, and trachea were universally forbidden.

For months Derek kept training hard while keeping a low profile at school, planning his next move.

At the end of the first semester, Derek stopped hiding from the bullies and started replying in kind to every single insult they threw at him, using the best quick-witted roast lines he had found online.

Derek was careful to never go to the bathroom or to remain alone for too long, always keeping an adult witness in line of sight. It did not even take a full day before his enemies were gunning for him.

Only when the veins almost popped out their necks, did he throw his bait.

"I have had enough of your sh*t, as*holes. Meet me in an hour behind the grocery store between Lincoln and 3rd. Or are you too scared?"

"Since you're cruising for a bruising, I will happily grant your wish you fag*ot. It will only be you and the three of us, alright?"

Derek nodded without believing him in the least. He was right.

When they entered the back alley, they had brought along two more people.

Derek was waiting for them, leaning against the wall at the end of the blind alley.

"There you are. I was starting to think you would stand me up." Derek said.

"Sorry we were late. Hope you do not mind us inviting some friends to the party." They replied with a laugh.

Derek shrugged while grinning from ear to ear.

"No problem. No matter the quantity, trash will always be worthless. I chose this alley because it has enough dumpsters to accommodate all of your friends."

The last line hit a nerve and they charged at him blindly.

"Gang up on him guys! Do not let him escape! Let's show him who the real trash is."

And so, they fell into his trap. Derek had prepared the terrain right after choosing the best spot for the fight. A blind alley only has one way out, and as they approached the end of the alley, they weren't able to see the tripwire Derek had set due to the dim light.

The first two fell down hard onto the concrete, and those behind them were so worried about not trampling on their friends that they never saw the steel pipe coming.

They came in numbers, Derek had come armed. Using the pipe as a club, he quickly hit them respectively on the head, the side of the knee, and in the groin. Only then did he start hitting the two that were trying to get back on their feet.

While they were moaning and sobbing on the ground, he used a small knife to cut the tripwire to be able to move freely. He beat them again and again with the metal pipe, giving special attention to their nether regions.

Deep inside, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't care less. If the world was bound to be unfair, the only possible course of action was to make it unfair in his advantage.

So, he took out the taser that he had 'borrowed' from his father and tased all of them until they fell unconscious in a pool of their own urine. After that, he stripped them completely and took many photos.

After arranging their bodies so that they would seem to be spooning each other, Derek even made a short video. When he was done, he splashed them with a bucket of cold water and sealed the deal.

"Sorry to ruin your Brokeback Mountain moment girls, but I need your attention for a minute."

When the bullies woke up, they were in so much pain that they barely noticed that they were naked and embracing each other. Retorting to Derek while he still had a firm grip on the steel pipe was out of the question, so they kept quiet and listened.

"I have made quite a scrapbook out of you all and even a short movie. I uploaded everything to my computer and to the cloud. It would be terrible if someone, I don't know, me for example, uploaded them on all the biggest image hosting sites. You know what they say, the internet never forgets."

The bullies started crying and begging.

"Imagine how terrible it would be! Whenever someone would Boogle your names, be them your grandma, your girlfriend, or even the colleges you will apply to, the first thing to appear would be those photos!"

"Dude, no!" "Please, I don't even know you. I was just doing a favor for a friend!" "It was only a joke, please forgive me!"

The choir of begging gave him goosebumps. Derek wanted to puke at their hypocrisy.

"I do not care about your pathetic excuses! From this day onward, you will leave me alone. And you better pray that nothing happens to me because the cloud is set so that if I do not enter the password every day, it will upload them everywhere."

Without waiting for their reply, he turned his back to them and walked away.

"Almost forgot, I threw your clothes into random dumpsters. I can't remember which clothes went where. If you don't want to go home in your birthday suits, you better start digging. So long suckers!"

Derek returned home euphoric, almost singing. He had never felt so proud of himself and had the completely undeserved confidence that he would never have to think about those b*stards ever again.

Prologue (2)

The bullying had ended, but Derek's social life never stopped being miserable. How could he possibly make any friends with such a shameful private life?

He had to constantly hide his bruises with long sleeves and had run out of plausible excuses for his streak of black eyes months before. His classmates and professors simply pretended to not know about the abuse and he just pretended to believe he was that good of a liar.

It was painful, but manageable. Derek still had his little brother to share that pain with. Carl was all he had. He was his family, friend, and confidant. He was Derek's whole world.

But when that age came, he started to have crushes toward girls in his school, and those feelings weren't easily suppressed. Once again, Derek felt utterly helpless.

He couldn't tell anyone about his problems nor he could allow people to getting close to him. Otherwise, he would have to make up a reason for not being allowed to bring a friend home. Let alone a girl he liked.

Derek was tormented by cruel thoughts, often asking the heavens why what others took for granted was but an impossible dream for him.

Fueled by his hormonal storms, Derek's rage grew relentlessly. He started having trouble sleeping at night, thinking about all those lovey-dovey couples out there.

Derek knew he was different from them. His crippling flaw wasn't being shy or having a bad case of acne. His problem couldn't be cured by any doctor, because it had a first and a last name. Ezio McCoy, his trash bag of a father.

Derek started to conceive plan after plan to get rid of his father, even if it meant killing him. At night, he would devise elaborate and meticulous scenarios that often involved prolonged torture.

Death was too easy, Derek wanted Ezio to suffer as he did for all those years.

But when morning came, he would always realize they were dumb ideas, more wishful thinking than anything else.

Derek lacked the means and ruthlessness necessary to get rid of Ezio. No matter how much he hated him, Ezio was still his father and Derek was just an angry teenager.

Kill Ezio? Sure, and then what? Live his whole life ridden with guilt? Running away from home to avoid being arrested? With what money?

Killing Ezio would have meant abandoning Carl forever and destroying any possible chance of being happy in the future.

So, every morning Derek would swallow his most recent plan along with some porridge and move on. His only real prospect was to cram like a madman, get a scholarship, and get out of that hell as soon as possible.

Time flew and in the blink of an eye, it was the last summer before Derek's first year of high school. Despite the hot climate, his heart was as cold as ice.

Derek had already hit his growth spurt. That combined with his martial arts and muscle training had given him a mean look.

Ezio was aware of that and being a coward, he decided to avoid beating Derek and made Carl his new favorite target.

Derek had already tried standing up for his brother, but the only result had been Ezio buying a nightstick from the local Army Surplus. Ezio started beating Derek with a nightstick instead of his bare hands.

He saved Carl from suffering the same fate by begging and crying, and it only worked because the ruckus alarmed their neighbors.

So whenever Ezio threw one of his tantrums, Derek could only watch his brother get beaten time and time again.

One morning, Ezio received his first big commission in years. He wore his best suit despite the heat and had Derek prepare him his briefcase and laptop.

Ezio was in a real hurry. He could not afford for his competitors to snatch this whale. It could have been his career-making commission!

Derek rushed to the door where Ezio was already waiting and helped him adjust the laptop's satchel.

Ezio ran to the elevator, pushing the button like a madman, but the light remained red.

Cursing his damn condo, the building manager, and his rotten luck, Ezio made a rush to the stairs.

That's when Derek noticed it. Turning his head to follow his father, Derek noticed that the daylight was strongly reflected on the hallway's floor.

Ezio had just passed in front of him when Derek realized that the janitor had just washed the stairs, but forgot to put the wet floor sign down.

Everything happened in an instant. Ezio made a long heavy stride, shifting all of his weight down and forward on his front leg. Then, his foot slipped.

Derek could have warned him. He could have even extended an arm and prevented the fall, but instead, he chose to remain still.

Ezio tumbled down the stairs, bounced around the corner, and tumbled again, crashing downstairs. His body was a broken mess, all of his limbs bent in unnatural angles.

Like any teenager, Derek had his smartphone at hand, so he took several photos to prove that the floor was wet and there was no warning sign.

His mind was already planning on hiring the best shark lawyer he could find and sue the building managing firm responsible for his condo.

After that, he carefully walked down the stairs to confirm Ezio's death. He was still alive, yet incapable of making a moan or asking for help. His eyes were fixated on Derek, begging him for mercy.

Derek grinned to him and said: "Do you really think I am so stupid that I never learned anything from you? As you taught me more than once, never delegate. If you want something done right, do it yourself. Your smartphone is in your pocket, take it out and call 911.

"I'm just a failure of a son, I don't want to mess this up for you daddy."

Ezio's eyes were full of shock and hate, but that only lasted a moment. His head went limp, his gaze blank.

A laugh fought to come out, but Derek suppressed it. Instead, he started shouting for help putting on his best terrified son impression.

As always, Derek's mother was too obsessed with her problems, her grief, her feelings, to bother to look for a lawyer. She left everything in Derek's hands since Ezio was no more.

Three birds with one stone. After careful research, he contacted and hired the best shark lawyer they could afford so that Derek would be his client instead of his mother.

He told him everything about his father's incident, the domestic abuse, and the requirement to make it so that the money would be split between the three of them, mother and sons.

Both Derek and Carl were very firm on that point, they wanted the lawyer to start the process to get the emancipated. With the money from the compensation and their inheritance, they had enough to be self-sufficient until Derek could provide for them both.

What followed was the happiest period in their life. First, they obtained the inheritance, and shortly after they got emancipated. They could finally move away from their mother's place.

Not even a month later, they received a very generous settlement from the building manager. They used it to settle down and make proper plans for the future.

During the following years, bullies were not a problem. Derek and Carl were now both martial artists and had each other's back. Now that their domestic nightmare was over, they could experience having friends and girlfriends,.

They suffered many disappointments though, since too many of those so-called friends turned out to be people who wanted to use their parent-free apartment as a party house.

Also, they had a hard time figuring out what being a normal teen was supposed to be. While their peers seemed only to be interested in having fun and skipping classes, they were focused on studying and saving as much as possible.

Derek and Carl would spend holidays and vacations doing part-time jobs to slow down the thinning of their bank account. They were not poor, but not rich either.

They knew they had to save as much as possible in case rainy days were to once again fall upon them, but all in all, they had a good life.

Derek got a scholarship and obtained a bachelor's degree in chemistry, soon followed by a master's in biochemistry. Carl did well too, he had already got his engineering degree, he was about to start his master's and already had a steady relationship.

Despite being really happy for his little brother, it was really a painful thorn in Derek's side. He had always been the more socially inept between the two and never managed to get into a stable relationship, not even in college.

Derek had no problem talking to girls, the issue always lied in him being picky and ended in his inability to trust. He had had many crushes, but never fell in love.

In the beginning, he put the blame on his bad luck, always finding shallow or idiotic girls. After finding more than one good girl, he put the blame on his dark past.

When confronted with Carl's happy relationship, he could only blame himself. While Carl had suffered almost the same things, he got out much stronger and purer than Derek.

Derek was just too scared of being hurt again to let any relationship grow above a certain level and that was an enemy he could not just beat up.

Derek accepted the first decent paid job he got, working on the night shift of a big chemical company in the Q&A department.

Carl had confided to Derek that he was going to propose to his girlfriend, as soon as he got his master's. Hence Derek needed money because he only had two years to save enough to give his little brother a decent wedding.

Derek did not like his current job, but it was a way to start his working career and fill his curriculum. Also, it was well paid and he resolved to use the company's medical insurance to seek psychological counseling.

He knew he had problems and wanted to work them out. Derek consulted several doctors before finding someone he was able to work with and after several months, he felt he was finally starting to make some progress.

Alas, such happiness was not bound to last.

Prologue (3)

It was a Friday evening and Derek was getting prepared for work.

He was still stuck doing Q&A since the pay was very good and no matter how many times Carl said he wanted a small ceremony, Derek was sure that whatever sum his brother planned to spend, would at least double in the end.

It was a goddamn wedding. Things were supposed to be blown out of proportion, at some point. That's just how they work.

Derek was adjusting his shirt when his smartphone rang on the notes of "Night on Bald Mountain", the pre-set ringtone for unknown numbers.

"Derek McCoy, who is it?"

"Mister McCoy, this is the Saint Joseph hospital." The female voice sounded worried. That together with the word "hospital" sent a shiver down his spine.

"Is Carl McCoy your brother?" Derek could almost hear her biting her nails.

"Yes, what happened?"

"He was involved in a car accident and is in serious condition. You should come here as soon as possible. The doctors need you since you are his healthcare proxy and the patient is unconscious."

"A car accident?" Derek yelled while rushing out of the door and looking for a cab.

"We don't have any fuc**ng car! What the hell happened?"

"I'm sorry, I am not at liberty to say. The doctors will explain it…" Derek hung up on her. He had no time for useless babbling, only for a goddamn cab.

Every second in traffic was like torture and when he finally arrived, it was too late.

The surgeon and a police officer explained to him that Carl had been run over by a drunk driver. The culprit had run off and the police were still looking for him.

A bystander had immediately called 911, but because of a traffic jam caused by the accident, it took hours for the ambulance to arrive.

So when Carl reached the hospital, he was already in critical condition. He had multiple fractures, a ruptured spleen, and internal bleeding, requiring immediate surgery.

Derek had been called while Carl was just entering the OR.

They had done their best to save him, but Carl had lost too much blood, so there was nothing they could do. They offered Derek their condolences, but all he could hear was white noise.

"Let me see my brother." He begged.

The body was covered with a sheet and only the head was visible. Derek could still see traces of blood on the face of his little brother.

Derek gave his number to the police officer, so that he could be updated about the investigation and then returned home.

The culprit was quickly apprehended thanks to the traffic cameras. It turned out to be a kid, barely seventeen years old, who had stolen his old man's car. When the police arrested him, he was still drunk and high on drugs.

Derek lived the months before the trial in anguish. The damned DA had decided to prosecute the kid as a minor and the even more damned judge had granted him house arrest. All while Derek's little brother, his Carl, was dead because of him.

"How could they do such a thing?" Derek would yell and argue with anyone willing to listen to him.

"Why all this talking about the rights and the future of that little sh*t? What about my brother's rights? What about his future? Carl has none because of him! What kind of justice is that?"

Derek visited the DA office multiple times, expressing his outrage and demanding that they asked for the maximum sentence. They were always kind and accommodating. They promised him that they would give Carl the justice he deserved.

When the day of the trial finally came, Derek's world ended one more time.

The DA and the defence attorney had come to a settlement.

Since Chris Wainright, this was the name of the murderer, was still a minor and it was also his first offense, he had accepted to go to rehab and do six hundred hours of community service.

If Chris managed to complete his rehab program and did not commit crimes in the following three years, he would be a free citizen with no criminal record.

Derek was too dumbfounded to even be angry. When the session was over, he just walked to the DA, and asked a single question with a muffled voice.

"Why?"

Then, with their most kind and accommodating tone, the DA assistants explained to Derek that Chris was just a kid from a good family who had made a dumb mistake.

Chris had a brilliant future ahead. He had already been admitted at Cal Tech and this was his first offense. Also, his parents had hired a great lawyer and the judge would likely be unwilling to destroy Chris' life.

Despite their expectations, Derek did not make a scene. Derek's fire was extinguished, he had no more tears to shed.

In the following months, Derek lived by going through the motions. He kept following his routine like nothing had happened, his mind was still in denial. He just wanted to forget everything that had happened in the last half year.

The only thing that made him feel alive was the constant headache that had started shortly after Carl's death. According to his doctor, it was a stress related symptom. With all that had happened, Derek had just been swallowing aspirins and paracetamol like they were candies.

The pain never did go away, it was only getting worse. Derek finally found the strength to get a serious check-up and once again bad news was waiting for him.

According to the full body scan and the follow-up biopsy, he had stage two pulmonary cancer.

"But I've never smoked in my entire life!" Derek exclaimed, more amused than scared.

"Indeed, it's odd." Doctor Monroe, his oncologist, was quite puzzled.

She was a good-looking Hispanic woman, maybe five years older than Derek. In different circumstances, he would have probably asked her out.

"You told me you work for a chemical company, right?" Derek nodded.

"Such an aggressive cancer is too uncommon to be a coincidence. My personal opinion is that their ventilation system failed. You and God knows how many more people have been breathing in poison for quite some time."

"But we wear masks the whole time we work with the chemicals and, speaking for myself, I follow the safety protocols to the letter. My colleagues always mock me for it!" Derek was still in disbelief.

"Then maybe the masks are cheap pieces of junk. Or maybe the lab or the storage, if not both, have leaks. These corporate scumbags only seek profit.

"It would not surprise me in the least if they cut from the safety budget to put more dividends in their pockets."

Doctor Monroe was too outraged, even in his catatonic state Derek could tell there was more to it.

"Doctor, what are you hiding from me?" He asked, looking her straight in the eyes for the first time.

She nibbled on her lower lip for a while before answering.

"Between you and me, you are not the first case from your company. I have already reported it to the Department of Health and to federals. If I were in your shoes, I would get a good lawyer and sue the soul out of the company. You'll need a lot of money for the treatments."

"I agree on getting a lawyer, but I refuse any treatment. I'll just take palliative care."

Doctor Monroe jumped off her chair.

"Do you realize that without the proper treatments you have six months, a year at best to live? Also, as I have already said, your cancer is really aggressive. We need to start as soon as possible if we want to have a chance to beat it."

The situation was dramatic, but Derek found all those "we" words hilarious, so he could not refrain from chuckling.

"We barely know each other, doctor. So we have nothing to do other than go our separate ways." Derek said to her with an icy tone.

"What do I have to live for? I have no family and no loved ones. My little brother's ashes are all that is left to keep me company. I could die tomorrow and I would not give a s**t!"

They parted on bad terms, but she still gave him her number, in case he changed his mind or simply needed to talk. Derek called his old shark lawyer and explained everything to him.

Years had passed but they would still send each other Christmas cards.

Derek had kept tabs on him, just in case. His old lawyer had more grey hair than before, but was still a first-class shark.

Derek stopped working and started spending his money without much care. He would go to all the fancy restaurants he had always wanted to try, bought the suits he always dreamed about and only ate his favourite foods for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Derek would spend most of his days playing games on his brand-new gaming PC and revisiting all the spots that held significance for him and Carl.

Then, twenty-four days after the diagnosis, he had an epiphany.

Prologue (4) Fall and Ascension

It was a night like any other since Derek had quit his job. He would wear one of his new handmade suits and wander off into the city. He was curious to see what would kill him first: if the cancer or a random crazy head.

When he got bored or simply exhausted due to cancer and medication, he would just take a cab to return home.

Derek was walking with quick strides, high on his pain killers when he saw him: Chris Wainright. He was holding a bottle of liquor, poorly-hidden inside a paper bag, from which he would drink in big gulps.

Chris was talking and laughing loudly with a teen girl who was showing a lot of skin. She held a joint, taking big puffs until the two of them traded and got into a car.

It was a custom-painted muscle car. Though not the same Camaro that Chris had used to kill Carl. It was an even bigger and more expensive car.

In that moment, Derek wanted to puke blood. How could he possibly have forgotten about that little b*stard? Had his cancer really screwed up his brain so bad that he was willing to die without taking care of such a loose end?

The tires screeched as the car moved, almost running over a woman that was crossing the road in the process. The skimpily dressed girl rolled down the window, yelling insults at the woman who was still frozen in fear.

Derek could almost hear the couple of idiots laughing. While gritting his teeth, he called a cab and started to plan his final act.

First, he started to stalk Chris on all social networks, learning about all of his routines and habits. Then Derek began to follow him and planted a GPS tracker under the Camaro so he'd always know Chris' exact location.

Simply skimming through Chris' Chirper account, he found at least fifty violations of the parole deal. While following him, Derek took many photos of Chris abusing alcohol and drugs.

However Derek had no intention of submitting the evidence to the police. What could he possibly gain from that? Chris would just get another slap on the wrist and then he had just to be more careful.

Derek didn't have the luxury of time, nor the willingness to do what the so-called justice system said he should.

Less than a week later, by checking Chris' Bookface page, Derek learned of a rave he would show up to. Derek double-checked his equipment and jumped into his new car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

The best car to hunt monsters with. The rave was "secret, hence it would take place in some run-down, abandoned location.

Derek followed Chris closely and as soon as they were away from traffic cams, he ran into the Camaro from the side, forcing Chris to halt.

As soon as Chris stepped out of the car, Derek took him down with a stun gun and then quickly proceeded to check if the Camaro had more passengers.

It seemed to be his lucky night, Chris was driving alone. Derek searched him and crushed every electronic device he could find: bitfit, smartphone, even Chris' keychain.

Derek tied his hands and feet before ball gagging him. Then he destroyed his own smartphone and the GPS tracker, tossing everything off of the road.

He moved Chris into the trunk of the Impala and headed toward a party for just the two of them.

Derek drove to an abandoned warehouse in the old industrial area. He had already gotten rid of the lock and chain that kept the big metallic doors closed, replacing them with his own.

Inside the warehouse there were two chairs, both bolted to the ground, a bucket, and several water tanks.

Derek opened the trunk. Chris had regained his senses so Derek tased him again. He took Chris to a chair, binding his arms and legs to it.

Finally, Derek splashed him with a bucket of water, forcing him to regain consciousness.

"Hello, Chris. My name is Derek McCoy and you killed my brother. We need to talk." Derek said, standing over him.

Chris gargled something as he tried to get rid of the restraints. While commending his efforts, Derek violently hit him in the groin with a nightstick. The pain paralyzed Chris.

"Where was I? Oh yes. The last time we saw each other was during your farce of a trial. Do you remember me?" Chris's panting intensified.

"Good. Let's get straight to business." Derek took two digital timers out of the car, setting the first to 30 minutes and the second to two hours, 47 minutes and 17 seconds.

Then he pulled out a gun and double tapped Chris' liver. His scream was muffled by the ball gag, whereas the shots echoed loudly in the empty warehouse.

Derek started both timers simultaneously then came in close, checking the blood. It was dense and black, a clear indicator of a crushed liver.

"Now, before the real pain settles in, I need you to take a good look at the timers. They are really important." Chris was crying and screaming, so Derek had to splash him again and pull him by his hair to get his attention.

"The first timer marks how much time you have left. After it rings, even if someone should miraculously break through that door and rescue you, you would be dead anyway.

"You have only so much time until your system gets flooded by toxins unfiltered by the liver. Past that point, no transplant can save you. The second timer is a surprise. We'll get to it later. For now, your only task is to stay awake and savour every moment of pain like Carl did."

The time flew, Chris kept screaming through the ball gag and soon the first timer rang.

Chris started sobbing even stronger, the only times he remained silent was because he was overwhelmed by the ever-rising pain.

Derek spoke to him no longer, he would just pace back and forth while occasionally checking the second timer.

Every time Chris fainted, Derek would splash him and force him to stay awake before refilling the bucket.

When the second timer rang, Derek finally spoke again.

"I have bad news and I have good news. The bad news is that I lied before. I thoroughly researched liver injuries and with such a crushed liver, you had no hope to begin with.

"Even if I had shot you in front of the best hospital in the US, unless they had a compatible liver at hand, you would have died. I wanted to give you false hope, the same that my brother experienced while waiting for help.

"The good news is that you just suffered as long as Carl did. I may be many things: unrelenting, vengeful, a liar, a murderer, but I am also fair. Your suffering ends now."

Derek pointed the gun to Chris' head and double tapped him.

Then he pointed it to his own head.

"Little brother, I'm coming. Wait for me."

He pulled the trigger one last time.

While Derek's body was still falling, his consciousness was bathed in light and he felt as if he was being pulled toward the sky.

After months of grieving, after a whole lifetime of misery and pain, Derek felt that all of his traumas and hatred were fading away.

Derek had never experienced such bliss. In this new form, he felt no negative emotion. He was at peace with his past and unafraid of his future.

Derek was enjoying a present that he felt could lead to endless possibilities. There was no right and wrong, success or failure. He would simply be, no strings attached.

That intoxicating feeling lasted until he suddenly woke up, alive and breathing.

All his negative emotions returned, plunging him back into despair. Derek inwardly cursed while he tried to focus his eyes. Maybe it was because of the shot to the head, but his vision was blurry.

'So much for the perfect plan. Some idiot must have rescued me and somehow I survived the journey to the hospital. I am still alive. I still have cancer. I am still alone.'

But when his eyes finally cleared up, they strongly disagreed with his reasoning.

Derek was in some kind of huge metal corridor, surrounded by dead bodies. Alien dead bodies to be precise. They were all wearing some kind of full-body armour that resembled a sci-fi space suit.

"Where the f**k am I? What the hell does this mean?" He screamed while trying to get up only to fall back to the floor.

He fell hand first and only then did he notice that he was wearing a space suit too. Also his hands, all four of them, had three fingers each.

"WHAT! THE! ACTUAL! F**K!"