Anthony DeCosmo - Fusion

“I–I don’t know…”

“Don’t lie. Don’t stand here in front of your son and lie about who you are. You’re a tyrant. A conqueror. It’s in your blood.”

“I fight to save my people,” Trevor still refused to meet Danny’s eyes.

“Did the Trevor of that parallel Earth fight to save his people? No. He was an invader. He killed for fun. He ruled with an iron fist. He used Nina as his plaything. And guess what, buddy, he was the exact same as you. The same hair color, the same eyes, the same height. The same DNA. You’re a killer, Trevor.”

“My father is not a killer!”

Danny said, “Ask the people of New Winnabow.”

“I had to-“

“You had to send your canine army to tear them to pieces? The great leader showed his wisdom by choosing slaughter! What about the Governor of California? You remember, the one you murdered with a missile strike. How did you justify that?”

“We-we had to destroy their leadership. If any part remained it would have-“

“It would have clouded your mission. It would have brought a voice of dissent to the table and you dared not have that. Nothing must stand in the way of the war. No negotiation. No quarter. Just slaughter without end and Trevor Stone ruling over it all.”

Trevor felt weak. With each word he saw the faces, the aftermath, the ruins of those who had met their fate by his hand.

“Congratulations, Trevor. Genghis Kahn and Alexander the Great have nothing on you!”

“I had no choice!” Trevor yelled and his voice echoed through the endless chamber. The pulses of energy from the spheres containing the inky-black Nyx crackled loud like a blast of lightning and thunder. “The stakes were too high! All of the world on my shoulders!”

“Poor Trevor, no choice at all…”

Trevor’s yell turned to a sob, “I never wanted this! None of it. I did not choose this path. I–I…”

Trevor clasped his head with both hands. The body of Danny Washburn stepped closer like a shark in blood-scented waters lunging for the kill.

“I can release you from it all. I can make the guilt and the pain go away. Old Danny boy knows a few secrets, you see. You listen to me, Trev, and I can make it right as rain.”

“Father!” Jorgie pointed at Danny and shouted, “Don’t listen to him! He is empty, Father! He is as empty and dead as everything in this place!”

As he shouted, the nine year old boy-without realizing it-stepped in Washburn’s direction. In that moment, the thing that looked like Danny Washburn grew a scowl on his face and hurriedly retreated a step. In fear.

Trevor witnessed that fear. Everything changed.

“I can make it all right for you, Trevor. Do what I ask and I promise you, no more pain. I can do more than save your people, I can make them immortal. I can make you immortal, Trevor.”

But the bribe felt flat. Trevor had seen the thing falter in the face of a little boy and with that falter, the creature wearing the cloak of Danny Washburn lost its power to bully or persuade.

“Is that what you tell all the races? How many ears have you whispered that promise into? I’ll bet you told the Feranites they were special, that you would help them. How did that work out?

Washburn glanced from Trevor to Jorgie and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to listen to my offer, Trevor? Say, maybe I can even throw in the woman you love. Oh, I’m sorry, the boy doesn’t know, does he? He doesn’t know that you don’t love his mother.”

“Shut up!” Jorgie hurried to his father’s side and grabbed hold. “You aren’t real! You’re a phony!”

“How does that feel, little one? I bet it scares you. I bet you would do anything to keep your father and mother together. You need them to love each other. Nothing can stand in the way of that: no one. Especially not another woman who isn’t Mommy. You’d do anything to keep your parents together because if Mommy and Daddy don’t love each other, maybe they don’t love you, either.”

Trevor felt his strength return in no small part from the hug of his son. His jagged breath eased. The wobble in his legs steadied.

“It’s okay, Jorgie. You’re right, don’t listen to him,” Trevor wiped his hand across his eyes as if clearing his view. “Truth is, he’s powerless.”

“Powerless?” Washburn’s voice shook in the slightest. “I have more power than you can comprehend. I am eternal. You are frail and inferior.”

“You are nothing,” Trevor insisted and he recalled words Lori Brewer once used. “Power is never taken, it is given. You have only the power that the others have given to you.”

“Leave!” Washburn ordered. “Leave now and maybe you’ll live a while longer.”

“You’re the one who is going to leave. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”

“You sound so sure of yourself, Trevor. Do you really think your little surprise army means anything to me? I’m not the Hivvans. I’m not the Duass. I don’t have to play by the rules, Trevor. I wrote those rules.”

The thing that wore Danny Washburn’s body glanced up at the crackling energy between the two orbs. The power there grew to a frenzy. Glowing, shimmering tendrils reached from one of the spheres across to the other. The clouds of black inside writhed back and forth in pain.

Strands of energy intertwined and formed a glowing image. In that image Trevor saw the waterfront of a modern city. It took him a moment, but he recognized post-Armageddon Seattle with blasted buildings, abandoned cars, and debris strewn across the streets.

On those streets slithered over-sized snakes with metal fins along their spine; large ape-things with a cluster of spider eyes and four arms; glowing red worms the size of a city bus with barbed ribs along their sickening body; and legions of other nightmares.

“I can summon infinite reinforcements. I can reach back through the time line of this universe and grab what I need…” the creatures disappeared. No flash. No slow fade. Just wiped from existence. “…from a time that would not have served me. And deposit them here.”

The view shifted to outside the temple. From the brief glimpse afforded in the pool of energy, Trevor saw the European force driving across the black plain with piles of dead monsters before them. Clearly a victory in the making.

Then blobs of green appeared in their path. The monsters of Seattle from a time past emerged from the vessels and took to battle immediately. The human strike faltered and split then withdrew; a victory turned back.

“That was easy, Trevor. No limit. Nothing to stop me.”

This time the image between the orbs showed Grand Forks, North Dakota. The Red River had climbed its banks and flooded most of downtown. The western stretches of the city, however, were flooded with a different catastrophe: hordes of demons, some walking upright, others crawling or flying. Angry, snarling beasts that sought prey not for sustenance but by impulse; an impulse to inflict pain. To destroy for destruction’s sake.

They disappeared from Grand Forks, leaving it exactly as The Empire would find it a few weeks later: half-flooded and fully deserted.

The army of beasts re-materialized outside the temple walls in blobs of green from which they quickly burst forth and joined the battle. The Europeans were forced wholly off the plain and sent scrambling to the west.

“Go. Take your-take your son with you. Go into seclusion and never return. You may live out the end of your sad existence without interference from me.”

Trevor tilted his head and studied the body of Danny Washburn. The demonstration of power did not intimidate Trevor. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Trevor now knew his choice to confront Voggoth had been the right choice. He knew because history demanded fulfillment; a circle waited to be closed.