Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone (25 page)

“No idea. I guess we really shouldn’t
be all that surprised, he’s gotten us through a couple of tight
spaces before,” DTO admits, crossing his arms under his cloak. UDGD
scowls.

“Bullshit. He’s obviously got some
cheapass trick up his sleeve, like a grappling hook or something,”
UDGD responds with a tone far lighter than his usual. It’s almost
casual. SISY laughs.

“Could be, but it sure works for him,
eh?” SISY says with a grin as wide and shining as his usual,
regardless of the multiple, grievous wounds.

“I understand that, sure, but it’s sort
of cowardly, being that well prepared. A real warrior should be
able to tackle any situation,” UDGD explains, obviously thinking of
himself as a “real warrior”. DTO smirks as SISY begins swaying side
to side, slowly losing balance.

“G-guys, I thi-”

“So, what if you were in his shoes?”
DTO interrupts, not hearing the weakness in SISY’s
voice.

“What?” UDGD questions with a
scowl.

“If you had to save Honks and couldn’t
make the jump. Do you think you would have been able to leap that
high? They were a good twenty feet below us when we saw them last,”
DTO says, cornering UDGD. The Black Axe-Master groans, looks about,
and sighs.

“Well, ya’ know... yeah I guess I
could’ve; wasn’t that high of a jump.”

“Come on, he’s the only one I’ve met
that could make that jump other than these guys. You know you
couldn’t have.”

“Shut up. You don’t know.”

“Yeah? Then go ahead, leap right out of
the roof like the guy we killed,” DTO dares, knowing UDGD can’t do
it. UDGD grumbles quietly.

“I... well, I ca-”

“Plop” is the sound SISY makes, falling
in a puddle of his own blood. UDGD and DTO look in shock as their
comrade, a man seemingly capable of death-defying feats of stamina,
has fallen.

“Shit!” DTO exclaims, running over to
SISY.

UDGD just stands there a moment,
eyebrow raised in surprise – he never really thought of SISY to be
the kind of person to bleed out. For some reason, he started to
doubt the man’s standard mortality, and presumed he could somehow
bleed infinite amounts without physical penalty. SISY, however,
turns out to be just a man. UDGD watches closely as DTO calls some
men over to help him pick the enormous, crimson-splattered body of
SISY off of the ground and take him off to the keep’s infirmary.
The group leaves, allowing UDGD some peace. He looks about, and
notes several servants and guards still lazing about in the shock
of Udess’ death.

“Hey, dumbasses,” UDGD begins. The
guards jolt to attention, while the servants, having by now
realized that UDGD is secretly a pretty nice guy, simply curtsy or
bow in respect.

“SIR, YES SIR!” the guards cry out in
fear.

“You better get some food ready for us,
or I’ll be pissed. Got it?”

“SIR, YES SIR!” they cry again,
scrambling off in every sort of direction to find the cooks. UDGD
smirks, glad he was able to help with a little something, and
proceeds to take a seat on the now-dead Udess’ throne to take a
rest.

Elsewhere, SISY is carried into the
keep’s infirmary by DTO plus three men, and is laid next to the
soundly-sleeping Mr. Honkers. A nurse takes a look over the
brown-haired warrior for about a minute, and turns to
DTO.

“He’s lost way too much blood. We can’t
save him,” she says with a blank, honest gaze. DTO sighs, thinks a
moment, and speaks.

“Just do what you can. He’s a harder
sort than most,” DTO requests. The nurse raises a thin brow in
consideration, and decides that she doesn’t really have anything
else to do, as the other man, Mr. Honkers, seems to have just
passed out from shock. She nods.

“Alright. I’ll give it a shot,” the
dark-eyed doctor says as she laxly steps over to SISY and begins
preparing some disinfectant, bandages, and a surgical sowing kit.
DTO is left with IMRM, looming eerily over Mr. Honkers. DTO looks
at the tall cloaked figure for a moment, just standing there as he
watches the short guy with intense focus.

“Hey,” DTO addresses. IMRM looks
up.

“Hello, is SISY alright? I could
provide assistance to the nurse if that would be
helpful.”

“I think she’s got it. I actually
wanted to talk.”

“What would you like to talk
about?”

“I’m curious, what’s so important about
Honks that you’d be this concerned?”

“I would not say I’m particularly
concerned about him. I’ve analyzed much of his condition and have
concluded that he simply lost consciousness due to mental stress,
that is, fear,” IMRM explains.

“Heh, okay. So why have you been
watching him? You weren’t doing that in the tower.”

“Well, to be honest I was not so much
watching him as I was more so making additional observations about
his condition. Making certain that there was nothing
wrong.”

“Right, and why do you do
that?”

“You could say that... well, for now, I
will say it is my current life goal to make sure he gets to do as
he pleases, while also ensuring his survival.”

“So you’re like his slave?”

“Indirectly, yes,” IMRM says. HTO leans
in and stares at IMRM with a gaze of incrimination.

“Indirectly?” HTO asks.

“It is my mission given to me by the
one that possesses all authority over me, and rightful authority
over the Omniverse,” IMRM says, receiving a peculiar look from the
nurse, and a look of confusion from DTO.

“The Omniverse, as in all realities,
dimensions, sub-dimensions and sub-space areas?” DTO asks, tilting
his head a bit to the side.

“Yes.”

“Everything that exists in every plane
of existence?” HTO asks, slowly drawing back in
surprise.

“Yes.”

“So, does... a god hold authority over
you, then? Is that who you’re talking about?” DTO asks, referring
to whoever might be in charge of everything. IMRM is silent a
moment.

“No. The idea of extra-dimensional
entities outside of our scientifically-viewable scope, while not
impossible, is not plausible, and therefore I do not submit to such
conjectures. I am referring to the leader of the O.E.L., Ywn,” IMRM
explains.

“Wait, so you work for the Omniverse
Expeditionary Librarium?!”

“Yes, I am somewhat of an employee to
the organization.” Hearing this, DTO scratches his head.

“So, if you’re O.E.L., wouldn’t you
have some kind of mission? They don’t send people out for stuff
unless it’s really important, right?”

“I believe I told you, I am here to
escort and aid this man here in whatever endeavors he so chooses to
uptake.”

“So, what’s he here for?”

“To be honest, I cannot say that I
know,” IMRM says plainly. DTO nods.

“Alright, thanks... I’m sorry, what was
your name again?” IMRM is quiet again, and decides to consider DTO
a friend.

“You may call me Insanely Masculine
Robot Man, as most call me, or simply A.C.E., which could be
considered my real name,” he says, entrusting DTO with a bit more
information about himself.

“Oh, Ace, huh? Alright, thanks,
Ace.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Dick.”

“You can call me Phillip. That’s my
real name.”

“Very well. My pleasure, Phillip,” IMRM
says, thrilled to have learned the true name of his ally, though
not showing his excitement. Phillip coughs, and scratches his
chin.

“But actually, I’ve been meaning to
ask,” HTO aka Phillip says, looking away for a moment.

“Yes?”

“Just what is a robot?” the rapier user
asks. IMRM is silent for a few seconds.

“A person made in a different manner,”
IMRM says plainly.

“Whoa, so like, magic?”

“… That would be a good term for it,
yes.” HTO nods, hearing IMRM’s answer.

“Alright, cool… Well, I’ll see you.
Think I’m gonna’ take a look around,” DTO says as he waves IMRM and
the nurse off.

“Goodbye,” IMRM responds, shifting his
gaze back to Mr. Honkers. DTO leaves with a smirk across his face;
he really doesn’t mind Ace all that much, at least in comparison to
the others.

The nurse continues to work on SISY,
who is experiencing what he would gladly call a religious
experience.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: “THEREFORE I DO
NOT SUBMIT TO SUCH CONJECTURES” (AKA: ONLY SISSY BOYS HAVE
DREAMS)

SISY comes to in the sacred garden of
the forever dying, Dahal, lying in a patch of grass trapped in the
same cycle of endless near-death as everything else in the realm.
He can hear the war-like voices of the millions of bloodied souls
that went before him to this paradise of near-death, constantly
singing their hymns to their mother, Ree.

“Well, you’ve been sleeping a fair
while, haven’t you, Laivok?” an excited, female voice asks
him.

He stares at the black, starless sky
for a moment, and then sits up to locate the source of the voice.
He jolts back in surprise, beholding the appearance of his goddess,
Ree the Bloodless, as she appeared at thirty years old. SISY sees
that her beauty is as limitless as the legends say.

Her eyes, containing multiple irises,
distills each one on him with her limitless levels of focus. Her
smile is infinitely more joyful and violent than his own, being an
honor to even comprehend slightly to him. Her white dress is soaked
with the blood of her millions of foes as the legends say,
eternally flowing from her garment like a stream of
human-destruction. The most awe-inspiring feature of her, and the
inspiration for the symbol of her religion, is the enormous, gaping
hole in her torso, showing the nothingness at her
center.

He falls to his knees.

“M-MY GODDESS!” he exclaims with a
wide, toothy grin. She chuckles.

“Yes. It’s me. Now stand on your own
two feet. You have much blood yet to be bled, my son,” she says,
her focused wisdom piercing into his heart. He draws back in a mix
of surprise and joy.

“D-Do you mean I am at the deepest
place, The Unbleeding Realm, but I am to return to the mortal
lands?”

“Yes, Laivok. You may not yet enter the
eternal battlefield with your ancestors. You must first complete
your purpose in the living realms. Do your finest, bleed your most,
and one day you too shall meet my eager embrace of doom,” she
encourages with a smile, as loving as any mother. Tears well up in
SISY’s eyes.

“Oh, thank you! I will be ready! I will
do my best to walk into The Unbleeding without the need of death,
just like you!” he claims, referring to the final chapter regarding
her mortal life’s account in her religious text, The Crimson
Testament, in which she surpassed reality’s principles by surviving
the greatest torture possible and thus rendering the Omniverse’s
methods of perceiving reality irrelevant. She smirks, certain that
he cannot match her, but not wanting to let him down.

“Do your finest, Laivok. The way will
be long, but you will reach the end one way or another,” she says,
gently stroking the side of his face. He laughs creepily, getting
far too much pleasure out such an action than she expected. “Right,
so I brought you here for a special reason, you know,” she says
with the same expression as before, if a more bit surprised at his
reaction this time. SISY nods eagerly.

“Yes! I’m ready!”

“Heh. Good. As you know, I watch all of
my children fight and bleed in the world of the living, and I’ve
been keeping a special eye on you. I saw your fight against the
dragoons of Smashland. I was very impressed. You took every strike
like a true painless warrior, you even allowed them to hit you a
few times, even when you could have blocked or dodged like a common
coward to pain. For this, I shall bestow upon you a blessing. I
shall thicken your blood, and increase the size of your veins. You
will be able to bleed more furiously and more freely than ever
before. My mother’s hand shall not touch you for many moons to
come, and my father will always be by your side,” she says,
referring to her mother, “Death” and her father, “Life”.

SISY’s eyes widen in disbelief. He has
been selected out of all Ree’s followers because of his exemplary
suicidal tactics! An honor only experienced by the heartless
prophets in The Crimson Scriptures! He kneels down, planting his
head into the blood-soaked dirt.

“THANK YOU! THE BLOODLESS BE PRAISED!”
he cries out with frantic joy. Ree nods, and suddenly SISY is in
the hospital room, overlooking a very surprised nurse, who is in
the middle of suturing up a large wound in his shoulder.

“Um, what the he-llo there. Nice to see
you’re feeling better!” the doctor says, completely dumbfounded at
his regaining of consciousness. SISY looks about in
confusion.

“Where am I?”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: GETTING REAL
(AKA: SISSIES AND THEIR FEELINGS)

The nurse pauses a moment in thought,
and puts aside her instruments.