The Filler Chapter
Centuries Ago...
Myrick Mute sighed as he stood amongst the smouldering ruins that had once been the city of London, it was ironic really, in a matter of minutes, a civilisation that had taken hundreds of years to build had been reduced to mere ash.
"Good lord." He whispered before stepping over one of the thousands of bodies that littered the streets before him. His cape trailed along the ground as he walked, the edges of the enchanted artifact becoming stained with dirt and blood, the stench of the deceased filled the air... and creatures such as rats and maggots tore through the bodies with great enthusiasim. There was no wind in the air, no sound with the exception of the vermin feasting... there was nothing except for Mute.
The entire planet had gone mute.
Myrick walked towards his destination, his skin pale out of shock from all the destruction and death, along the way he recognized the faces of his allies in the superpowerd community. Legendary figures such as Salamander, Gunship and Doctor October all lay along the ground, battered, broken and deceased. The powers of the world's mightiest beings had been nothing to halt the wrath of the abomination that had caused this apocalypse. Once again... there was just Mute.
Only a single building still stood in the entirety of London, Mute should have seen it coming really... especially considering the location's unpleasant history. The Tower of London loomed over the once great mage like a viper waiting to strike and sink its foul venom into him... ironically, it was a viper waiting for him.
"I see you got my message." The cold voice of the Magus said once Mute had reached the top of the Tower. He was stood up, completely still and staring emotionlessly out of a hole torn in the tower's side.
"You've taken it too far this time, J-" Mute started to say before being halted from his sentence by a click of his adversary's fingers. The Doctor's lips seemed to merge together in a grotesque display before completely disappearing, leaving an empty, blank space where his mouth had once been.
"Of course I have." Magus turned towards his oppnent, a pleased smirk upon his face. "After all..." Once again he clicked his fingers, sending the great Doctor Mute tumbling to his knees, the sound of his leg's bones breaking filling the air. "I aim... to please!" With a quick thrust of his black metal cane, the Magus smacked his tool across Mute's skull, knocking him down on his side and leaving a bloody mark in the side of the magician's head.
"Oh my friend..." Magus mockingly pulled off Mute's top hat and popped it on his own head. "...You don't know how LONG I've waited for this!"
The scene of Magus' greatest moment slowly began to melt away, being replaced with the inside of a small, wooden hut located in India. The man that would become known as the Magus pulled his hand away from the fortune teller that he had visited and blinked several times, surprised at what his future had in store for him.
"That's all I can show you." The fortune teller said, his frail, whithered face seeming like it was going to collapse in on itself as he stared at the powerful mage. "The fates... sometimes they aren't kind."
"Trust me my friend." The Magus stood up from his seat and pulled some money from his pocket before placing it on the table before the teller. "Today... they most certainly were."
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Pompeii, 79 C.E.
Magus stood completely alone atop a hilltop, newly donned cape shimmering with green flame as he processed the black ash that fell all around him. The bright red lava flowing mere inches below his feet was almost hypnotizing with its beauty.
"Travelling through time, Magus?" The voice of Doctor Mute filled the Necromancer's ears. "Isn't that a tad bit juvenile?" The Doctor landed next to the Magus, both staring up into the black, choking air that surrounded them. This clearly wasn't the Doctor Mute of Magus' home time period. He was dressed in a smart, black tuxedo from the year shown in Magus' vision of the future, a large golden sword strapped across his chest with a jet black top hat perched atop his head.
"I could say the same to you." Magus replied, his eyes locked upon the burning city of Pompeii as it was engulfed in flame. "At least I don't have to worry about breaking the time stream." He muttered. "You're supposed to follow the rules."
Doctor Mute slumped down to his knees, sitting down atop the hill, he pulled a brown cigar from his suit pocket and lit his finger on fire, lighting the end of the tobacco stick and taking a deep, long smoke from it.
"I don't really care about that anymore." He replied as Magus sat down next to him. "Once you get to my point in time you'll understand." The Doctor offered his only true friend a spare cigar, however the master of black magic refused, politely shaking his head. "Suit yourself."
"Why are you here?" Magus asked after a few moments of silence passed between the two men. "Clearly you're not here to kill me."
Mute took another deep long inhale from his cigar before breathing, thick, white smoke left his lips and slowly drifted up into the air before disappearing.
"It's quite simple really, Magus." The Doctor muttered before slowly getting to his feet and standing over his adversary. The flow of molten magma slowly drifting by their feet. "Where I'm from... and from every single dimension I've visited..." He tossed the cigar into the lava. "...you win."
Once again, with a deep sigh, Mute sat down next to his hated adversary. The two men from different times simply letting the beauty of the volcanic cataclysm sink in.
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Bluebottles dashed through the air, millions upon millions of the tiny insectoid pests blackened out the sky that covered the Nevada Desert before darting down towards a sandy dune overlooking the bleak, endless horizon. The horde of insects seemed to all land upon the hill before flying back up into the air and continuing their journey, leaving behind an elderly figure clad in tattered, green robes that seemed to be falling apart at the seams.
A thick scar covered the man's face... and a long, white, dirty beard covered the man's face. Slowly, using his cane to help him down, the figure sat upon the ground, where he adopted a meditation position in an attempt to find peace in the silence. He was surrounded by miles upon miles of sand... with not a single living thing nearby, yet he still found it difficult to concentrate on focusing his energy.
He was the Magus, as you probably guessed.... the greatest tyrant of his age.... and as he sat completely alone in a world burnt to ash, he couldn't help but feel pleased at his handiwork.
It was a shame he'd had to survive it.
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