Neptunian Theory Re;Birth: Return of The Phantom

By Xnobody13

Chapter 1: In Which a Scene from the Past Clearly has no Bearing on Future Events
Location: Unknown

Many Years Ago...

Deep within the thick forest, light beginning to shine through the leaves, a man adorned in a fine suit fit for business ran like there was no tomorrow. The rough terrain below his feet made navigation almost impossible, with his dress shoes barely matching the ground of tiny hills, gigantic roots, and plants that appeared to hold some ulterior motive. At times, he found himself tripping, but regardless of his fatigue, he continued to run, his heavy breathing masking the sheer terror in his eyes.

Looking around at the scenery, he found it dangerously hilarious that the place he once found solitude and peace was now quickly becoming his grave. He ran by a small flower field that, at one point in time, was a secret spot perfect for his research in the medicinal sciences; it was now just a memory, his longing for the past never to be heard. The trees around him, tall in their stature, all appeared to laugh at him, mocking his endless attempts to find some sort of salvation from the beings that dared to end him.

In his right hand was a briefcase, colored orange, though with a slight hint of rusting around its hinges. It was clearly heavy, making his run that much more difficult, but whatever resided within it must have truly been important, as every time he feel, he would always make sure that whatever was in it was okay.

In his other hand, or I guess I should say on his other hand, was a glove souped up with a few bells and whistles. Bulbs with a purple cover littered the knuckle portion of the design, with wires popping out of the fabric as it ran down towards his wrist. A small battery, along with some sort of compartment that held who knows what, were right below the palm, a rather impractical design for any glove to follow.

He once again tripped over a branch, the briefcase falling down into a small ditch. "No, no no no no!" He stammered, sliding about on the ground as he tried to reach and grab the extremely necessary item. Every time he reached, he looked back the path he traversed, sweat becoming beads on his face as the fear of being chased still prevailed. He didn't see anything noteworthy, but far off in the distance, the sounds of treads smacking against the rough ground echoed through the forest. It wouldn't be long before they got too close; once that occurred, his fate will already be determined.

At last, he managed to stretch just far enough to reach the handle of the case, and with a mighty grunt, he lifted it out of the ditch. Dusting off his pants (hoping it was the last time doing so), he continued on his blind trek throughout the growing maze of trees. "Just gotta keep going...gotta keep going..."

The treads of the deadly vehicles behind him sounded louder, with the apparent noise of a helicopter becoming more apparent as time went on. There was no doubt in his mind that, unless he could find a perfect hiding spot, running out in the open will surely get himself caught, or worse. However, besides the ditch for his case, there was nowhere for him to go. He merely ran here, thinking that that it was a bright idea. How reckless he was.

From behind, a voice spoke from a megaphone. "We know you are out there! Surrender and die with honor!"

The man brushed sweat off his face as he kept moving, his legs becoming horribly heavy as hundreds of hills greeted his path. He couldn't keep this up any longer, but whatever his goal was, he wouldn't stop until he reached it. "I can't...Dammit..."

Finally, the man reached a clearing; all the trees in the area were all pushed to the sides, allowing the grass in the area to grow as high as they wanted, with their coloring turning a scorched yellow. After all the years he spent living on this landmass, he never realized just how hot it could get on a daily business. The sun, high in the sky as the noon hour approached, brought its heated intensity down upon him, the trees offering no comfort from here on out.

Ahead of him were of course trees, but a few were just low enough that he could see just a little beyond them. Far in the distance was a gigantic mountain range, the longest one in the whole land. For whatever reason, he rose his hand towards it, raising a thumb so that it would eclipse one of the mountain peaks. It took some practice, but eventually he managed to completely obscure it.

Once that act was done, he looked down at his briefcase, somewhat dented now from all the falls. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and looked once more at the mountains. "It's a long shot...but if I can just..."

He had no idea what he was planning, but whatever it was, it would never come into fruition, for the fatigue he caused upon himself forced him to fall. His legs just couldn't handle his body anymore, and found himself acquainted with the ground once more, the dirt once again coating what might as well be a perfect suit.

"Damn it all."

He struggled as much as he could, but besides at least being able to stand, he couldn't even attempt to take a step, for any sudden movement would most certainly cause him to go careening down once more. He tried whatever he could to get his energy back, but no matter what he did, or had the chance to do, all would be for naught in the end, as the people coming towards him finally reached the clearing.

Thousands of tanks broke through the tree line, their barrels locked and ready to fire. Thousands of soldiers, clad in a dark-orange armor from head to toe, stood by these mechanical beasts, weapons of their own held between their hands. Visors blocked their eyes from being seen, though the tight formation upon their lips showed their angered emotions. High above, making the trees flutter by the sudden influx of wind, helicopters and hovering planes stood and watched, their own burning turrets aiming directly at the poor man.

For a whole army to bring everything they got in order to apprehend one sole individual, whatever that man had done must've been a complete tragedy.

The man in question, still fatigued but trepidation allowing him to stand, looked on in horror at the masses of those who he had wronged. For the past hour, maybe even more, they have chased him down. He managed to elude the army long enough, but when emotions are running high, it was only a matter of time before he was caught. Now, staring into the eyes of death himself, the man couldn't tell whether this was reality or fantasy.

However, he continued to stand against the face of adversity, though his knees were ready to give up whenever he was. The soldiers all began to aim their guns at him, going for both a high and low shot, hoping that by the end of all this, the man would be nothing short of being a discarded piece of rotten cheese.

On top of one of the tanks was a soldier with even heavier armor than the others. His gun, a stylized abomination of what I presume to be a shotgun, showcased his overall power and dominance over everyone else, and his gruff voice only added the cherry on top. He lowered his disturbing weapon as he took a megaphone from another fellow soldier. Raising the golden object high in the air, he shouted through it:

"Heathen, enough is enough! We have the whole area surrounded! Running any further now will only be a waste of both our times! If you choose to surrender now, your life will be ended with honor!"

His words meant nothing in the end, as the man knew that, no matter what the odds were or what he should expect to be his fate, he would never give in to these souls. He looked at the case in his hand, a painful whimper escaping his lips. He looked behind him towards the mountain range, and though he couldn't see anyone standing there, he knew the commander wasn't lying.

However, the man in the suit shook his head, fear completely evident but determination shinning in as well. "S-Sir, with all due respect, I did what I had to do! You must understand, please! If I didn't do it, drastic consequences-"

Another commander-like soldiers stood up on the tank, forcibly yanking the megaphone out of the other's hand. "You should be thankful that we are giving you the dignity of an honorable death! What you did will never, ever, be forgiven! We just feel kind today, but you are clearly not accepting it! Nothing will excuse what you have done!" Even after the horrid events, the soldiers still looked pretty snarky. Must be part of their culture.

The man looked at his case one more time, before looking at his glove-like thing, the sweat on his head pouring off onto the ground below. "No," he began, "I have my reasons. I warned her about everything, and she chose not to listen!" Tears began to fill his eyes as looked up to the sky. Though his emotions were tough and genuine, the soldiers didn't bare to show him any pity, to the point that they actually aimed their guns even higher than before. "You don't understand how hard this is on me! I never wanted her to die like this, but there was no other option!"

The commanders looked at one another and spat onto the ground. "How dare you make a mockery of her! You knew what you were doing, and there was absolutely no reason why you committed this heinous act against our land! Whatever you say from here on out will only interpreted as the words of a mad man!"

The first officer demanded the megaphone back to him, and when he took it, he looked at all of the soldiers behind him. With a hand gesture, he placed the voice amplifier up to his lips. "At this point, we aren't planning on any honorable death! We should never have had considered it in the first place, but that's just the way of the our home!" He made another hand gesture, which caused the soldiers to begin moving up. The business-suited man still didn't falter, but he could feel his heart beating extra quick. "On three!"

The man shook his head. "Please, I told you everything! Our lady wouldn't want this, and you know it!"

The commanders either didn't hear him, or chose to be blissfully ignorant. "1!"

"Please, if you do this, you will only be hurting yourself!"

"2!"

The man in the suit knew that there was no convincing them now; it was all a gamble in the end to begin with. Ready to accept his fate, he looked down at the briefcase yet again, knowing full well that if whatever was in it was grabbed by them, then, well...I honestly don't know what will occur, but he couldn't allow it to fall into their hands.

Then he looked at his other hand, the one covered with the glove. It was the same object that did the deed that brought him into this mess. The very fabric that should never have been conjured may be his only chance to survive this exact scene. It was only a glove with a few bells-and-whistles added upon it, but within its hastily made design rested a power of unquestionable might, one that the man himself grew to fear.

The commanders began to smirk, and with their hands raised high in the air, they were ready to beckon the final number. The soldiers all tensed up, each wondering who it will be that will score the fatal blow. After the hell that this man threw them into, every bullet must count, regardless of its lethality.

As the hand began to go down, the business-suit-clad man had all fear vacated from his face. This made the commanders stop their command, looking at one another in silence. Everyone, still tensed with the ability to finally end this bastard, looked at their leaders in confusion. "Sir? Permission to fire, sir?"

The man, in an instant, threw the case away, not wanting it to be damaged any further from what was about to occur. As the soldiers looked concerned, the man lifted his glove and pressed a dial on it. The object began to fizzle, and the bulbs began to light up brightly, a motor being heard that rang through the afternoon air. The Commanders, watching everything unfold before them, began to grow fearful themselves, and quickly rose their hands in the air once more. "Screw it! Everyone, fire now! Burn this bastard to the ground!"

Before the soldiers began to fire, the man rose his gloved hand towards his opposition. "Forgive me, but you leave me no other choice. Forgive me, milady."

And as the first soldier fired his gun, the man reciprocated. A beam of orange light, its intensity as blinding as it was destructive, shot through the world, aimed directly at the tank with the two commanders standing tall on it. They looked on in horror, knowing that as soon as the beam was fired, their lives were already over. "N-"

And the tank was gone. Just like that. It exploded with a horrifying intensity, creating a terrific fireball that encapsulated all that stood within. A sound that no mortal should ever hear exploded into the ears of all those on this makeshift battlefield, with smoke rising high up into the air in order to indicate the destruction of just one blast.

The remaining members of the army, still outnumbering our poor business man by quite a large margin, looked on in awe, before setting their sights on the man, who now looked even more guilty. "Um..Uh, fire, fire! Don't let him rest!"

Everyone tried their best as they began to fire, their intensity filled with rage and terror, hoping that somehow that glove wouldn't fire another beam. If it did, who knows who he would take out, or how many lives would be lost.

Unfortunately, the glove did fire, and this time the man in the suit didn't stop. With a scream of anguish, he began with the very left of his vision, and kept firing in a circle, the glove heating up to the point that it turned a fiery orange. The soldiers tried their best to subdue him, but unfortuantely the panic settled in, and their bullets went flying in every direction imaginable. Many tried to run, but the blast took all who stood before him on this very day. Their screams went unheeded as explosion after explosion burnt the whole forest area down. The helicopters, being the only things that could actually harm the man, ended up falling from the sky as the flames destroyed their rotors fairly quickly, falling quickly towards the landmass and taking everything with it.

In less than a minute, the man in the suit eliminated nearly all those who stood before him. It seemed that the commanders were lying about those behind him, so in the end, the situation actually ended up better than expected. Soon, the beam of light ended, leaving in its wake a mountain of ash and flame, the sky now being obscured by the heavy smoke. All soldiers who somehow survived the attack quickly retreated, brushing off all of the fire that lingered upon their souls.

Once the land was cleared and he was left alone, The man finally buckled and fell to his knees. His hand, holding a power that no mere human should ever hold, was now burning within the glove, though it seemed the pain was no match for all that hit him during the bout. He managed to survive the attack, but he didn't leave unscathed, as some bullets did manage to smash and embed themselves into his body.

Even with the lingering pain, though, he only felt the shame that came with the slaughter he just committed. "My... my god, what have I done?"

This was all falling apart too quickly. All he did was try and save everyone. That was the reason why he did what he did, and if he didn't do it, then everything would be destroyed, or worse. That was what he discovered, and if the soldiers didn't want to listen to him, that was there own fault; he was not going to allow his world to fall.

With a saddened tear escaping his eye, he finally managed to stand again, though once he did, the pain finally began to register within. He stumbled as he placed a hand on his chest, feeling the tiny hole forever created within him, feeling the crimson liquid that tried to leave him. His vision blurred, and he knew that after all the years of working with medicine, his life will be forfeit should he not find help soon. Sadly, in this predicament, the only one that could help him was himself.

Still, he looked back at the briefcase he discarded. Using whatever energy he had left, he stumbled over to it and held it within his palm. "I can't make it any farther...but I can still do this."

He lifted his shirt up, looking at both his wounds and what seemed to be yet another device attached to his side. "If all else fails...I at least got this. I have to keep this thing going..."

I still have no idea what happened or why he was carrying that case, but at least it seemed that he had some sort of goal. Taking heavy breaths as he fought against pain, he trudged forward, knowing that a second of wave of soldiers will show up momentarily.

"My friends...I pray for your safety..."

He finally reached the trees again, though his body just couldn't handle the intensity anymore, stumbling over every root and branch possible. He had to keep the case held high, just to show that he was still carrying it.

"No matter what...I have to do this... If I don't, Celestia will end it..."

He reached a giant oak tree, and had no other choice but to rest on it, feeling the energy within slowly seep from his body. He didn't hear anymore soldiers, but that only served to make him paranoid.

"All the CPU's...they must die..."

He kept himself going by remembering his fellow coworkers, knowing that they will at least live on. Hopefully, though he knew they were smart enough on their own.

"This landmass...I just need to teleport it away...up there will be the perfect spot..."

Unfortunately, whatever spot he was alluding too meant nothing, for he collapsed onto the ground in a shivering quake. He tried to stand up again, even if it meant crawling like a weakling, but he couldn't even muster the strength for that. The case fell just a meter before him, hidden just a little bit by the high grass. He couldn't carry it anymore, and in a few moments his life will probably leave him. He wanted to at least activate whatever was held within it, but it seemed that he wouldn't be able to do it.

Not in this life, anyway.

He looked at that small switch again, and drew a heavy sigh. "I guess I really don't have the choice anymore, do I? I don't...want to...but if it means saving...the universe, I will do anything...anything..."

However, before he could do whatever he was planning, he managed to shuffle his way towards the case, holding it out there on the ground, looking at the soil it managed to disturb. Though there hasn't been any rain in the forest for quite some time, it seemed that the dirt was surprisingly soft; soft enough that, even in his broken state, he would be able to dig through it.

"I have the time...I can do this..."

He began clawing at the dirt, his vision fading with every scrape. He grabbed any clump he could, ignored the worms and other strange creatures as he continued to burrow deep down. Like digging my own grave, he chuckled; nothing like a good, healthy dose of black humor in order to lighten up the evergrowing possibility of death.

At last, he managed to make the hole the correct dimensions for his secret gift. Being a man of science, he learned what it truly meant to be both accurate and precise, and making the size and volume of the hole perfect will most certainly help out in the end. How, he wouldn't say nor think.

Once it was delicately put in, he quickly brought the dirt clumps back, brushing it over the case, managing to obscure the foreign object with whatever he was presented. It was pretty makeshift, and if one took the time to observe the ground, it would be a rather obvious find. However, that was what he was going for, as it was crucial that he can find it once again.

Placing a tiny flower on it for reference, the man smiled and rolled onto his back. "They shouldn't be able to find it...I just need to now...revive..."

He lifted his shirt once more, stained completely with his own blood mixed with the mud, and hovered his hand over the switch. Long ago, he made that device, one that if used correctly, will grant its user what he referred to as a "Second Chance." A bizarre invention, and one that completely went against all sorts of science and biology, but he felt that now it was time to use it. His friends used it, his lady wanted to use it, and now came the ultimate test to see if he, the creator, can use it. It wasn't the most attractive thing in the world, but once again, the universe came first to him.

"Well, at least it will..."

His eyes soon caught sight of a horrific thing. High in the sky, behind the blackening smoke and burning embers, flew four bright objects of differing colors. One had the grand shade of blue, with the others being green, black (making it hard to notice), and purple. They appeared to be orbs floating down from the heavens above, and to the uninitiated, that was what they were to the point.

But the man knew what was coming. He knew what the colored orbs meant; he knew what fate he was about to endure.

"...Crap..."

The four orbs rained down quickly upon the land below. The closer they got to him, the more it was evident that they were indeed, and in fact, Goddesses. The Console Patron Units themselves, representing the four other landmasses of the grand conglomerate known only as Gamindustri, were flying down right beside him. Normally, you would only ever see one, and that was if you were just a horrible human being. To see all of them, well, that's not a good thing. You have to understand that these Goddesses aren't the best of friends, so when they team up like this, then the problem has to be very personal.

He knew running was impossible, and even if he could muster up the strength to crawl, he wouldn't waste his dignity like that. He wanted to use the glove for protection, knowing that if he could just do it, he can take out the CPU's. A terrible thing to do, but he it was a goal he mentioned before. However, it seemed that even raising his hand was getting harder and harder by the second.

The four of them landed elegantly, stopping all the gravity around them as they hovered just a mere bit from the ground below. Gusts of wind, powerful enough to overtake any who stood before them, blew all the ash and smoke away, and those that remained were intermixed with the CPU's already-heavenly bodies. This mixture made looking at them close to impossible, though their eyes, designed after what many could call the symbol of power, shined brightly through the darkness. A chilling fact that could harm even the most stoic of criminals.

Their weapons, a mixture of lances, swords, and hammers, shined as bright as their eyes; a lethal combination of armaments that, even against a killer devil, would be very well considered past the point of overkill. The man could only stare in shock at the display they gave him. The power of their authority, the surprise of their appearance, the anger he undoubtedly knew was behind that smoke...it was more than enough to chill the remaining blood within him.

"Ladies..." he barely whispered, hacking up blood from his throat. The Four CPU's glared down upon him, readying their weapons for their opportunity to strike, their emotions glowing with absolute strength. He placed a hand over the button, still not yet pressing it, but managing to hide it from view. "Have you come to...strike me down, too?"

The four Console Patron Units looked at one another, their eyes never appearing to be lost, before they turned once more at the poor sod on the last strings of his wasted life. One of them, the one coated with the Purple power symbols, aimed her dangerously long sword, reaching all the way to his chin, even to the point of lightly grazing it. He was expecting, perhaps, a sarcastic quip, or perhaps even a scary laugh, but all he heard prior to her words was the fire still crackling behind them.

"I do not care for your name, nor what you have accomplished in life. You have killed one of our own in cold blood. I don't know how a mere mortal managed to accomplish such a feat, and in a different world, I might have commended you." Her words were spoken rather monotonously, but they carried a venomous attitude that poisoned all who stood before them. He only could glare at her, knowing that there was no chance to fight back.

She rose her sword high in the air, allowing the obscured sun to make it shine brightly. "However, your sin cannot go unpunished. You have caused too much trouble in such a small frame. You eliminated a Goddess, eliminated many innocent souls, and still have the gall to give me a glare such as that."

Another CPU, this one holding the color green, nearly slashed his head off as she brought the lance just above his neck. "Tell me, you broken mess of a man. Before you breathe your last breath, tell us why. Why did you throw out your life in such a grizzly manner?"

The man, nearly choking on whatever the hell his body was conjuring up, let out a few coughs to clear his mind. He didn't have much time left, and they all knew that. "Why I did it?" he questioned, feeling rather annoyed for whatever reason (his emotions were probably dying off with his body). The Four CPU's appeared to have nodded, which caused him to cough once more. The lance, though not stabbing him, nudged him a few times, the CPU losing patience by the second.

Struggling to lift his head just a little bit, he tried his best to smile, his belief being that it would level the situation just a tad bit. "I...it had to be done. If I didn't do it, then...then this universe will be no more," a tear came to his eye as his bodily functions began to falter, though how he clung to life was quite the mystery. He tried to raise a finger, but his muscles refused to listen. "You...you all have to die with her...I'm so sorry."

He really meant it when he apologized, but obviously the Goddesses wouldn't accept it. A hammer came bashing right next to his head. "What the hell are you on about? That's the lamest excuse I have ever heard! No one has to die because 'oh no! The universe will no more!' Seriously, how dumb are you?" The CPU with white eyes looked at her fellow leaders. "Seriously, why don't we just kill him?"

The other three appeared to concur, and the one with blue eyes appeared to laugh. "You are delusional, my fallen adversary. You are just like every other criminal: cold, stupid, and reckless. You just happened to gain some publicity."

The purple eyes moved up and down, before glowing brighter than before. "Because of you, this entire landmass is left without guidance. Your real reason for doing this must have been completely selfish. What a poor, sad soul you are."

The man shook his head. "You...don't get it..."

The green-eyed CPU kept her lance close to his head. "There is nothing to get. You are merely a phantom upon this scorched land, a ghoul who lost his way. Your death will bring joy and happiness to those that were hurt by your very existence."

With that, all four of them rose their weapons high into the air, glimmering with an intention the man knew was never a good one. "Cursed phantom of Gamindustri! For your crimes against this nation, as well as all under Celestia, we hereby strike you down to the bowels of hell itself!"

All four of them let out a war cry, the wind picking up to an almost tornado level. The man could barely keep his eyes open as he knew his life was about to end. However, with his hand over the button still, he managed to press it before they could strike him down. "I...have to do it..."

The CPU's struck his body all at once, obliterating whatever remained of him. The rest of the scene, unfortunately, appears to have been lost. All that is known, however, besides some of the events we will learn later on, is that the CPU's never seemed to have spotted the mound of dirt, hiding the briefcase from view. This will later prove to be a costly mistake.

From Neptunian Theory: The Ultimate Plot of Celestia:

"I will never agree with everything Neptunian brought up. He is truly a mad man that somehow gained popularity with his twisted ideals and theories. Normally, I would dismiss anything he brought up to me, but when he showed me those documents, I began to wonder if he truly had some evidence to support his claims..."