>> “Snake... Gemma and Chase Taylor, Get out…tell them…tell them I’ll...always l-love them… Finish….Finish the game!”

No, no, no, NO. This was the "end of life" speech. Nate just met Jorge, but he was clearly a good man; too good a man to die like this. Nate did his best to listen to the man's last words...

The one thing that did not make sense right away was the snake. Based on Jorge's fading consciousness, it was likely the snake had something to do with Dark Grey, and he would find out the details soon enough.

He knew Gemma and Chase from the mansion, which meant Jorge must have been Gemma's fiance. The idea of bringing this news home to the kind woman and the innocent boy wrenched Nate's heart.

The paladin's sword was placed in Nate's hand. It was heavy, dragging down his arm. It was a sword weighed down by the burden of responsibility, whether Nate was ready for it or not. In his other arm, Jorge's body went limp, the dead weight dragging down his arm. It was weighed down by the burden of duty.

A shiver ran over Nate's spine. It was not a premonition, but the natural human ability to feel when something foreboding was imminent.

Thankfully, Nate was now too pissed off to be affected by fear.

The shadowy mass still pulsing around his pierced shoulder inflated like a twisting mess, catching the blade of the scythe as it came at Nate from behind.

The scythe was pulled from Dark Grey's hand and tossed away. Nate turned around, lowering Jorge's body to the ground. He eyed Dark Grey, his hands now empty, and the tell-tale snake draped around his shoulders.

"THE FUTILITY OF YOUR QUEST IS N--"

"NO," Nate interjected. "NO more ominous booming voice! THAT IS ENOUGH, DARYLL."

"I AM NOT--"[/i]

Game time was over. The shadowy mass was wrapping around Nate, and he was tired of following Dark Grey's rules. It was Nate's turn, and until something stopped him, he was going to spend his turn pummeling Dark Grey with shadowy fists.

After several strong blows landing on the spellcaster's body, the vanishing act resumed, the body fading away instantly.

The trick was getting old and predictable. Nate turned around and created a full wall with the shadow. The decision was timely, as the head of Dark Grey's snake was caught within the shadow. Assuming this was Nate's defensive counter and not an actual turn, Nate constricted the wall's mass inward, crushing the trapped creature's head.

Even Dark Grey was feeling the tide turn, shrinking away from the grey eyes filled with rage and focused on his shriveled dark heart. There was no more time to waste; Dark Grey had a trump card and it was time to use it.

The spellcaster held his hand out at a charging Nate, and instantly, the rogue's body froze. Try as he might, Nate could not move an inch. A moment later, he was trying to draw breath, but there was no breath to draw.

"YOUR PATHETIC FIGHTING IS POINTLESS! YOU ARE TRAPPED IN VOID PRISON. NO SPACE TO MOVE AND NO AIR TO BREATH. YOU WILL DIE HERE!"

It certainly seemed like Dark Grey was not bluffing, as Nate found himself slowly fading into unconsciousness. He would not last long at all if he did not find a way to make his move.

In a desperate attempt to make something of nothing, Nate commanded the shadow, which could thankfully still move as an entity outside of him.

"HA! DON'T WASTE YOUR LAST MOMENTS! DARKNESS CANNOT FAZE THE KING OF DARKNESS!

If Nate could smirk, he would have as the shadow took the handle of the gargantuan holy sword, swinging it through the frail body, which gave way like paper.

The boss's body evaporated into the darkness, and Nate fell forward, gasping for precious air once the void prison gave way.

With his strength returning, Nate ran to Jorge's body. With a face tarnished by remorse, Nate lifted Jorge's body, his hands cradling the limp form of a true hero.

He won, but the price was great.

Dark Grey had fallen. Jorge Cervantes had fallen. Bombardia had fallen. In the end, all that was left was Nate, alone, in the darkness of some void that had no real name or sense of direction about it. It was a world created by Dark Grey to trap his victims and torture them with his own powers. But now that the Maze Master had been killed, it slowly began to chip away and dissolve into particles that could barely be seen by the naked eye. With no lord and master over its dimensions, not only the void fell to pieces, but the entire gaming universe that he had created inside of Grand Central station began to disintegrate.

In the vast labyrinth of the train station, halls and passageways tore apart, revealing the reality underneath it. Monster screamed in terror as their visages faded away, leaving confused human’s behind, walls of thick, crag-like granite shifted into fine marble, brick, and mortar; in essence, everything was returning back to its former glory.

The same held true for the dead.

A golden skeleton in what is now the broom closet of the station, stripped itself away and was returned to the living flesh of a barbarian clad, Bombardia (who blinked and looked very confused). Even Dark Grey, the creator the world, who had been run through by a massive holy sword, was sitting up in the women’s bathroom, scratching his head and glancing down at his fake, felt robes embossed with stars and moons.

And in the main lobby, surrounded by equally confused people who were returning from being goblins, knights, wizards, orcs, and various other creatures from fantasy, was a single man being held up and cradled by another who was most despondent.

Armor melted away and returned to his trench coat and suit, Jorge Cervantes slowly opened his eyes, one at a time, and looked around his surroundings. People were standing, a mystery as to why they were where they were, and the same sentiment settled on Jorge. He could see that he as lying down, but why was he so high up? He felt that he was being held up, cradled in someone’s arms, but why?

Slowly he managed to crane his neck, to see, and found that it was indeed Nate that was holding him up, lamenting over something. Was it him? Wasn’t he just dead? Jorge thought for sure a snake had done him in, but now he felt right as rain; except for a migraine he felt pushing at the back of his eyes. Pain aside, he was happy to be alive.

He really did not want to stay in this position though.

Turning his head, he eyed Nate who still held him up.

“Put. Me. Down.”

The world seemed to dissolve around Nate, which was an experience trippier than the worst man-made influence. Even Nate's leather armor melted away, returning him to a grey shirt and jeans. It was not long before his world was once again neatly confined in Grand Central Station.

>> “Put. Me. Down.”

The voice caught Nate off guard, since Jorge was dead in his arms. Looking down, a very much alive police detective was looking back at him.

In excitement, Nate let Jorge to his feet but gave the man a tight hug. Jorge had fought and died admirably, and knowing that his death was confined to the fantasy world and Gemma and Chase had not lost a beloved family member... well, it was enough to warm Nate's heart.

"Hey buddy! So glad you're not dead!" Nate could feel some bizarre sixth sense triggered whose soul purpose was making the thief aware of imminent water-induced homicide, so he quickly released Jorge from the hug and folded his arms. "I mean... I'm glad I don't have any bad news to bring back to the mansion."

Nate looked around at the many confused pedestrians around them. "So... stupid question: what now?"

>> "Hey buddy! So glad you're not dead! I mean... I'm glad I don't have any bad news to bring back to the mansion."[/color]

Jorge was lowered and pulled into a tight “bro-hug”. Eyebrows arched, he waited until the man unlatched himself from him and stepped back. He did have a point, at least he didn’t have to make any announcements to Gemma or Chase that their fellow family member had died fighting a dark wizard in some mutant power-induced pocket world. That would have been something that Jorge probably would have rather that no one knew.

At least Nate seemed like he was going to keep his promise. The look of relief on his face was evident, and enough to make Jorge himself smirk a little. He was indeed glad to be alive. He could only assume that Nate defeated Dark Grey and with the wizard’s death, it ended the game. The quest was a success.

>> "So... stupid question: what now?"[/color]

“Good question,” Jorge admitted.

Honestly, he was not sure where to go from here. If he came back to life, that could only mean that the perpetrators of this crime were sure to be alive as well. Maybe no one died, but they had no right to put people through the trauma that they did. As it was, looking all around him, many people looked confused and were obviously shaken by everything that had happened. Quite a few were even taken to running to the exits in order to put the nightmare behind them. Not that Jorge could blame them. They really were put through a pretty rough time.

Turning to look back at Nate, he paused, gazing past him. There, stumbling out of one of the hallways and reconnecting, was the Bombardia, Dark Grey, and a pair of other young people that looked as if they had been part of the game (obviously because of their costumes). His eyes instantly narrowed onto them.

“Well, would ya look at that? Seems our daring adventurers have gathered,” he mumbled. “If you’ll excuse me, Nate,” Jorge said respectfully. “I have some youths to haul downtown.”

They had some questions to answer…

Nate turned his attention to the perpetrators in question as Jorge pointed them out. What was once detailed fantasy armor and robes had returned to cheaply made below-Con-quality nerd attire.

Jorge now had a job to do. Even if no one died, there was clearly no better definition of "disturbing the peace" in the history of organized law. Heck, with the ever-growing division of mutant-related crimes, those youngsters might have done enough to add a new page to the rulebook.

...Did the word youngster really cross Nate's mind? Teaching was having a terrible effect on him. "I'm getting old," he muttered. He looked up at Jorge and shrugged. "Well, not too old." Jorge was the ideal new adult friend: a mature influence for Nate and he was old enough to keep Nate feeling an undeserved sense of youth.

Nate looked up to where he was painting originally. Apparently the damage to his canvas was determined as pre-dimensional shift, as it was now nothing more than remnants of his creativity. "Well, I guess I'm done painting for the day..."

Now that real police work was about to get underway, the former criminal in Nate was getting antsy. "Do you need me for testimony or anything, or should I just head home and share this story with Quin?" He was almost positive that he was going to have the more interesting "how was your day?" for once.

>> "Well, I guess I'm done painting for the day..."[/color]

Jorge nodded as he turned back to the kids. They were gathered together and obviously stood out from the rest of the people who stood around confused or scared. Dressed in their obviously fake costumes, the detective had little to no doubt that they were the ones involved. He just needed to haul their butts in for a sobering day at the precinct.

He had to admit that despite the few annoyances that Nate threw at him today, the man was pretty useful in a fight. He was a good man and Jorge hoped that the pair of them would cross paths again. Hell, they would, wouldn’t they? If he was dating Quin he would probably see the man on occasion. He couldn’t count the number of times that Gemma had seen him at the office. Besides, unless the man was some type of career criminal, he saw no reason why he wouldn’t see Nate around.

But, in the mean time, he needed to go arrest some people. They would exchange pleasantries later.

>> "Do you need me for testimony or anything, or should I just head home and share this story with Quin?"[/color]

“Just share your story with Quin. That should be enough for the paper work. Besides,” he said as he turned back to Nate. “I think the hero of the day earned a rest. See you around, Nate.”

Jorge turned and headed beelined directly for the kids. Seeing them catch sight of him, they all immediately lowered their gazes to the interesting floor. Yup, they were in trouble…