Knight of Iron

Stefan grunted as the boulder crashed into him, his vibranium plates absorbing most of the impact, thankfully. He groaned as he turned over, an he laid on the ground, staring up into the sky, mostly just in complete shock. “Wow,” Lord Stephen said, nearby, “That certainly was something.”

Stephen chuckled. “Sure is! Be careful, and should you ever poke yourself by accident, Stefan there has had the most medical training.” He pointed to the Knight in battle. Stefan darted underneath the rock, he moved to block the man’s attack with his plated arm and to stab directly at the stomach.

Stephen looked from his watching the battle to smile at Craven. “Of course! I got my first one when I was just six.” He disappeared and reappeared thirty seconds later, in two flashes of green light, the second time with him carrying a tiny two-foot golden sword with a small crystal embedded in the center of its hilt. “If you touch the gem in its hilt, it’ll change its color and the color of the sword to anything you choose!” Stefan clenched his teeth, and a tiny light in the corner of his vision turned on. No time for that now. Stefan activated some micro-boosters on his back for a small burst of speed, enough to clear the staff. He managed to land in his traditional superhero pose, then got back up. Shapes danced across his vision—the technology of the helmet kicking in—trying to anticipate where the man was likely to move next.

Cruz remembered what he had emerged from his cave to do, and he looked around wildly for signs of his friends. Surely they’d be close by the Siren...? He still didn’t see Trace anywhere. Why wouldn’t she warn him of exactly what they had been looking for? He spotted the girl who Trace had tried to murder, Janet or something. He reloaded his shotgun and stayed hidden. What was this demon doing, exactly, besides causing general chaos? “I think we could have some backup,” Cruz whispered to... what was his name? Finn. Wait, he hadn’t even given Finn a name to know him by. “By the way, I’m Cruz,” he said, then tensed in shock as the reality of what he had just revealed himself as sunk in. “Er—a different Cruz.”

“We could run a blood test to be sure, but I think not, no,” Stephen smiled. “You can have a sword with our logo on it, though, if you want. A little one.” Stefan kept his sword trained on the man. “Impressive,” he said. He tapped the side of his ear and, from the point of contact, a helmet began to appear, seemingly crawling across his face in an instant. A sleek, silver knight’s helmet, completely nanotechnology. As he spoke through the helmet, his voice had a slight echo to it. “Let’s go.” He dashed forward and jumped into the air, slicing his sword through the air in an arc towards his neck.

The slight warmth of the sun’s rays, today accompanied with a light breeze, seemed to give hope to Audette Allaire of more warm to come. The song of the birds almost managed to bring a smile to her face, but the daunting chore of her summertime garden loomed before her. There was much to do to ensure herself a year’s worth of diverse assortment of sweet fruits and vegetables. And she did not want to have to travel the long road into town in the middle of the frozen winter to buy anything. Audette sat on a stump of an old fell tree, in the front yard of her homely cottage, nestled away far enough from civilization. She closed her eyes, breathing in the sounds and smells of the forests—the grass, the trees, the air—throughout her body, into the tips of her fingers and toes. She breathed out, feeling herself become just a little lighter. She let go of her worries, letting them fade from her mind as she was once again reminded by the universe that her problems were not her own. With that out of the way, Audette opened her eyes, got off her stump, and got to work.

Stefan stepped into stance, bouncing a bit to keep himself light and fast on his toes, as he was taught. A sharp ring echoed as he removed his sword from its sheath, a silvery shortsword glimmering with all colors, with a studded black hilt and short guards on each side. He spun it around a bit—which seemed to be a common thread between some of the Knights—then lifted it properly. “I wouldn’t dream of it; I’ll stop as soon as you say. You can say when, eh?”

Stefan laughed. “Care to try that against my vibranium sword? It’s basically unbreakable.”

Stefan grinned. "Aye, that I am. Pleasure to meet ya, Merl. Now these, it's the strongest metal on the planet I come from. Armor light enough for me to still utilize my martial arts training. I have a helmet, too."

"I'd be game, but I'm a bit busy trying to work out this alliance," Stephen said. "Professor X only does Pokemon battles, but perhaps you could try asking Stefan? He likes to duel. Yo, Stefan!" The man in high-tech knight's armor walked on over. "What you want from me, eh?" he asked, in an accent. "You want me to fight?" "It's what you've done you're whole life, right?" Stephen asked. "Go ahead, engage in his traditions." "Aye," said Stefan, "It'd be my pleasure, man." He extended a hand towards him. "Sorry, didn't catch your name?"

Stephen smiled. "A 'Knight' is just a reference to the sDNA Aura K1-917, a spirit found in multiple universes. We band together, even if one of us is a cat, because our powers, abilities, and skills are more powerful when we're together. Thus, we are the Knights, and despite our differences we are still, somehow, in some weird way, the same. However, we've always room for alliances or assistants."

"We hooked me up to a spiritual multiversal compass of my invention that detected my spiritual DNA in this cat in a different multiverse," Stephen explained, "So we showed up and, through magic communications, were able to explain ourselves to it. He'd considered his life full and we were able to artificially extend his short lifespan. His name's Redstripe, used to live in the woods or something."

Me at parties thinking about my online alias:

"Well, he's one of us," Stephen blinked. "He's a Knight. A magic translation collar seemed in order, though he doesn't like to wear it."

The cat, Redstripe, turned to the girl and tilted his head, staring at the light. But he didn't come any closer. "He's ours," Stephen said, "He's grown up with a seething hatred of humans, it's taken him a long time to warm up to us. Don't take it personally—and don't try to pet him."

The hopeful hopping happy hippy hungry hippo who gets too disappointed, writes horrible Rosharan movies, and is confused at the unending future of the 17th Sharders (plus their bloodthirsty kittens) is named Andrew President the President.

The cat yowls and wriggles out of his grip, scratching deep into his arms as he did so. He dropped to the ground, dug his claws into the ground, arched his back and hissed. "He... doesn't like to be picked up," Stephen said, "He hates the touch of humans. He is his own cat. I do have a magic translation collar if you want to talk to him."

if only I could block this thread

"So... wall cutting..." Stephen said, "Let's see. Say you were to battle a dragon or something, how would you go about that?" They were suddenly interrupted. "Leave Redstripe alone!" cried Lane, raging fire in his eyes, who appeared behind Trevor in a quick flash of green light, now dual wielding Rubik's cubes. The cat dashed out of the way, hissing angrily.

The cat hissed and jumped on his face. "What kind of abilities?" Konrig asked. "Canst thou fight with an sword?"

"Stars, it's too fast," Cruz cursed. "Maybe you should stick out a leg to trip it."

"Isn't that the truth," answered Kelly, "Not that I've seen real battle, but I've heard tales."