The Forsaken King

Disclaimer: I do not own Grim Tales.

Summary: In Junior's soul is an ancient being, nearly forgotten, who has decided to take the stage once more. The King has returned with a vengeance to remind the cosmos of something: "A thief is still a thief, no matter what he steals. And a King is still a King, no matter what is stolen from him." Incarnated/Gray Junior, Likely Harem. Blending Mythologies. Inspired partially by Campione!

Regular Speak

Thoughts and Emotions talking to person outside mind

Demonic or Animalistic Speak

Demonic or Animalistic Thoughts

'I couldn't save her...I couldn't stop him from taking her...no matter how powerful I am, I can't do anything right!' Junior thought in despair as he cried tears freely, slamming his clawed hand into the ground, barely even aware that he was slowly losing control of his body as the Nergal-Beast took over and started to combine with the remains of the Pumpkinator.

"Thieves beget thieves beget thieves," Someone called, the masculine voice echoing in Junior's ear, making him blink as it cut through the clouds of despair in his mind. The voice was regal and smooth, the words themselves radiating with an imperial tone that might make the weaker of wills actually want to bow and obey without conscious reason.

Junior found himself, in his skeleton form, in someplace strange. It looked like Oogie Boogie's lair still, but everything had a grey tint to it and everything looked translucent. Through the walls and Pumpkinator remains, he could see some kind of room that was circular with eight pillars equally spaced out along the wall. As he turned around, he could see...himself? Yes, it was indeed his body, the tentacles dragging it to the Pumpkinator...it looked almost like they were moving in fast-forward and it seemed like the limbs were trying to...insert into it.

"But truly, this is an ambitious one," The voice called out again, sounding apathetic or perhaps mildly annoyed.

Junior snapped around, his eyes going wide as he craned his head up to see what he was looking at. There before him was the most intimidating thing he had ever seen, even more than his mother when angered.

The being was at least seven feet tall and was clad in a silver, ethereal armor. It was plated, but Junior could see no opening in between any individual pieces. It was smooth, but curved to small yet elegant spikes along the arm and legs guards. At the joint, the spikes were larger and more pronounced. The helmet covered the entirety of the head, the only openings being a horizontal line for the eyes, but through it, nothing could be seen save a dark emptiness. And atop the helmet were seven curved-back spikes, reminiscent of a crown, each seven inches long.

The large gauntlets were overlapped in front of him, securely holding onto a sword unlike any other Junior had seen. It was large, so large that the pommel reached the middle of the man's chest. Said pommel, the hilt, and everything save the blade itself was black…black as a void. The pommel, unseen to Junior, was a perfect sphere, just bigger than a golf ball. The hilt was plain yet perfectly smooth and a foot and a half long. The guards arched towards the blade and spanned out six inches each. The blade itself however, was made of a light blue metal that had a light glow to it, small wisps of white mist flowing off of it. It was at least two inches wide at the guard and narrowed steadily until the last inch or so, coming to a quick and sharp point.

"W-who are you?" Junior asked in fear and awe as he backed away from the being.

"Someone mostly forgotten," The armored man answered evenly, "And you, young one, seem to be the victim of thieves this night: An attempt to steal your powers and seperate successful endeavors to steal yourself and your sister," The man noted with a sigh.

"Y-yeah, I guessl" Junior answered unsurely.

"Cease your trepidation, Boy. It is unbecoming of one such as you," The being scolded.

"Well sorry for not knowing where the heck I am!" Junior yelled in retort.

This got a nod from the man, "A bit coarse, but the will in your spirit is strong once your hesitation and fear are laid behind you," He commented in approval, getting a confused look for that, "As for this place, it is but a memory. From here, we view the events as they come and go," He answered cryptically as he looked back up at the room, making Junior do so as well.

The Prince gasped in horror as he saw it. The Pumpkinator- resurrected, repaired, and fused with the Nergal beast- marching onto Halloween Town. From the aerial view they now had, Junior could see his mother, father, and uncle were all prepared to stand their ground against this enormous foe, all alone.

"I say once more, truly an ambitious thief," The silver clad entity commented again as Junior watched on, "With your necromatic power, it has the means and the desire to strive towards pilfering the whole of all souls it can reach in this region of existence." He noted without care.

"W-wha-! But...how is this possible!? I was just back at the club house!" Junior asked in shock, not wanting to believe that this was happening, that his family were being attacked by something he had inadvertently created.

"You are unconscious. Time flows more freely in the recesses of one's mind than it does in the waking planes. As for how? Your existence mingled with that of your sister's created a being that not only hungers for souls, but can grow infinitely from devouring them. In your moment of weakness, the beast sought to steal the entirety of your being to seek its own desire," The man elaborated with ease as they watched the royal guards attempt to fend off the beast, only to be devoured as well.

"Isn't there something I can do!?" Junior asked desperately, looking up at the being, who looked back and tilted his head, "Can't you help me?!"

"You shouldn't make a habit of repeating the same request," He pointed out with a touch of amusement.

"...What?" Junior asked blankly.

"Nothing," The man said with a sigh, the armor looking like it aged and cracked for a moment before returning to its silver perfection, "I can aid you, but there is a price to be paid, consequences that cannot be avoided. I detest thieves, Boy, so I will not permit you to accept this offer without comprehending what it entails," He warned.

"But we don't have time!" Junior reminded, pointing to the weird illusion view they had of the battle...only to find that the Reaper-Beast was bashed to the ground by an unknown being. And as it fell, Junior saw that the battle, which looked to be going at double speed, was now slowing down drastically as his father and another figure approached the body of the giant beast. And as they reached the mouth, it had gone down to quarter speed.

"Time is not something with which I tend to concern myself," The entity retorted, drawing Junior's attention back to him, "In order for me to aid you, young one...you'd have to become me," He warned ominously.

"Become...you?" Junior asked warily, "...Who are you, really?" He asked suspiciously.

"Answering who you are is a far simpler question." The man answered cryptically, "You, Grim Reaper Junior, are an incarnation of myself," He informed solemnly.

"...Say what?!" Junior asked in shock, "You...I...You're me?" He asked, astounded that this large and intimidating being was, in any way, himself.

"It is more correct to say you were once me, but yes," The past life conceded with a shrug, "Surely one that is heir to the title of Death can grasp the concept that this is not the first existence his soul has experiencedl" He pointed out evenly.

"Well...it's still a bit shocking, you know?" Little Boy Death retorted, getting no response from...well, from himself, he supposed, "So, when you say, become you...?" Junior asked curiously.

"The divide between us, the present and the past lives, will begin crumble and blur. Ultimately, you will assimilate most of my existence into your own, due to my much greater age. I cannot guarantee how much of your present self will remain from such an experience. It is probable that there will be more me than you in the end result," The spirit explained, "Hmm?" He added, looking up at the image again, Junior following suit.

To the reaper's surprise, he found himself looking at three figures that were all normal sized, and slightly below him and his past life. The three were Grim Senior, Nergal Senior, and an odd third member who had a staff, floated with a tail instead of legs, and kept changing his appearance between an old man, a man in his prime, and a young boy. For some reason, Nergal and his farther were glaring at each other, and yelling at each other by the looks of it, even if Junior couldn't hear a thing.

"...all yer faul...!"

"...think I wanted this? You believe..."

"Huh?" Junior called in surprise, "Dad? Nergal?" He asked, confused by the sudden bouts of speech he could hear.

"We are unperceivable to them, but their voices might reach us if you desire," His past self explained. Junior looked at him warily before turning back to his father and great uncle, straining his nonexistent ears.

"...De source of it. Your son...screwin' me wife...demon girl...My Little Girl Death! Not some slimy tentacle..." He heard his father yell, echoing as Junior struggled to make it out.

"...how you talk about your own daughter?!" Nergal yelled back in rage.

"She's not my daughter!" Grim yelled, all too clearly for Junior to hear.

At that, the child stopped listening, looking at his father in a confused, almost angry look, "Was he...talking about Minnie?" He asked in disbelief.

"Indeed," The armored spirit confirmed.

"But...why would he say that?" Junior asked.

"There's no way you could ever hope to give Mandy a child!" Nergal's voice echoed to Junior, as if in answer.

"You have her memories," His past life recommended at Junior's shocked look.

Junior looked up at the towering warrior in confusion before looking down in thought, Minnie's mind racing to him, "She's...Nergal Junior's daughter...because Reapers can't have children," Junior realized, looking towards the image of his father with a clearly upset expression.

"Patience, child. You can confront Grim with your displeasure at his words another time," The being cautioned, "At present, we are running out of time," He warned, looking upwards, Junior falling suit.

He stumbled back in horror at seeing the twisted, Nergalized form of Minnie's corpse, holding a young boy in its mouth. It took him a moment to recognize the black sweater and pants the boy was wearing..."Is that...me?" Junior asked in some amount of disturbed shock.

"Indeed. What you see is your soul, held in the grasp of your thieving parasite of a demon," He responded in distaste.

"My soul? Than what am I?" Junior asked curiously, confused about how he could be looking at his own soul.

"A definition was never adequately given in your reality for what your current form is. Perhaps you could refer to your current form as your own awareness or spirit. The soul of your soul would be the best descriptor at present," The seven-horned being elaborated, "However, that is a concern for another time. Clockwork, the third member of the group below, will take your soul out of this body with the aide of Grim and Nergal. Once they succeed, the aide I can properly give will be greatly diminished. If you are willing to risk and pay the price, the answer must be given now," He warned.

Several times Junior looked between this spirit, this past life of himself to his father's company below. Then he looked up at his soul, Minnie's corpse still holding it with his mouth, "Can...can we save her?" Junior asked tonelessly.

"Yes," Was the only answer, resounding and absolute.

"Then I'll take my chances with your help...but regardless, before I do, can you tell me who you are?" Junior requested. Wordlessly, the armored being held out a hand with the sword in his grasp, the blade aimed down in a gesture for Junior to take it. Junior stared at the weapon for a moment, drinking in the glow it gave off. There was nothing holy or unholy about it…it just was, and yet it was more. With only a moment's hesitation, Junior reached out and grasped the sword's handle under where the gauntlet held it.

"I Am The King," Was the reply that came as Junior's eyes went wide, feeling something in his mind...Cracking? Leaking? Opening? He didn't know what the feeling was like, just that something was coming, "And hence forth, nevermore will we permit a soul to steal from us without consequence," The King vowed as his armor started to rust, as if eons were starting to pass him by...

Meanwhile

Clockwork, ironically as an old man, sighed as Grim and Nergal both ceased arguing over the semantics of Grim Junior's and Minnie's births. Really, he saw this coming, but that didn't make it any less annoying at times, "Now then, we need to go back to finding..." He trailed off, seeing Nergal smirk knowingly.

"Junior," He finished in understanding, "Well, you came to the right place. Look above you," He instructed, leaning backwards to do so himself as Time and Death followed suit...

Only for Nergal Senior and Grim Senior to each find a metallic hand gripping both of their faces, hands which slammed the back of their heads into the ground, "I am sorely disappointed," The King said in distain as he rose to his full height and looked down at the two ancient beings, groaning from the sheer force their skulls hit the floor with, "Thieves or not, I find it in ill taste that two such as yourselves have fallen so far from reverence by the workings of Time," He scolded evenly as the two blinked away the pain and looked up at the figure with confused eyes.

There stood a man in armor, heavily damaged and rusted to a reddish brown, the surface rough and rigid. He stood tall, over six feet, at least as tall as Grim himself. There were many small holes in the armor; One on the back of the right hand, several along the legs, a large crack down the upper left arm, various ones littering the torso, etc. The most notable gap was the large hole over the right side of the helmet's visor. However, that wasn't what had everyone's attention. The holes and gaps, save the visor, were all covered with...Nergal flesh, the company realized, in an armored form. There were no eyes on the demonic flesh, just the hide, as if he had skinned it. Even without repairs to it, none of the trio could see eyes in the darkness of the helmet. Yet, despite all the wear and tear, all the rust and patches, the seven curved horns atop the helmet remained.

"Who da fook are ya!? Where's Junior!?" Grim yelled, gripping his scythe hard as he got to his feet.

"Truly? Is your mind so addled that you do not recall one such as me, Grim?" The King asked, clearly annoyed with the skeleton who looked the being up and down.

"...Wha de hell are ya on abou?" Grim asked, suddenly on edge as he held his scythe with both hands.

"Clockwork, you are a wretched thing," The King spat, not even looking at the ghost.

Grim looked to his old colleague and found that the Master of Time was looking at the entity with a gaping mouth, "Clockwork, who is dis guy?" Grim asked angrily.

"...I don't know," Clockwork answered.

"...Wai, wha?" Grim asked, stunned.

"I don't know who this is, Grim. I don't know WHAT he is...," Clockwork answered.

"I thought that was impossible? Aren't you supposed to know everything!" Nergal yelled in reminder, as neither he nor Grim could understand the idea of Clockwork not knowing something. Knowing everything was one of the ghost's bragging rights!

"He knew me very well, Thief. He has merely allowed himself to be too engrossed in his own existence to perceive any others from beyond it," The King answered cryptically.

'Thief?' Nergal thought in confusion and slight dread as he starred into the visor of the armored humanoid.

"We're wastin time here. Nergal, I dough ya said Junior was here!?" Grim yelled in question, caring less about the enigma right now than he did getting his son to safety.

"He was! And so was the Nergal-Beast, might I add...," Nergal answered, a bit nervously at the end.

"The child is safe, I will assure you at least of that," The King answered in half-truth, "The parasite, on the other hand, will be giving us issue again very shortly," He warned as he turned, staring into the blackness of the stomach. Despite how rusted the armor was, it did not creak or groan from the movements. "Clockwork, Grim. Make leave of this place. Neither of you can accomplish anything here," He ordered.

"I don' know who ya dink ya are, but I'm not leavin widou me boy," Grim growled, glaring at the man's back.

"I commend and praise your determination to protect your heir, but you will leave here now, by or against your own will." The King retorted sternly, "Time and Death have no power here, nor do they have any dominion over myself. Your influence and capabilities here are little more than they of the apparition," He added on, referring to Nergal.

"Ohh, you're not leaving! We will eat you, eat you all! Yes!" A sickly, screeching voice called out from the darkness as tentacles started to slither and twist out of the darkness.

"Where is it!?" Grim asked, looking every which way, but the voice echoed from all directions.

"Everywhere," Nergal answered grimly, gritting his teeth.

"I must grant you praise, Thieving Child of Thieves! You are as tenacious as you are ambitious!" The King called back, daring the enemy to come forward and face him.

"You flatter us!" The Beast roared in glee as the tentacles started to converge.

"Wha de fook is it doin?" Grim asked cautiously.

"That is not your concern, Grim," The King retorted, flicking his wrist over his shoulder, pushing Grim and Clockwork back and flying towards a horizontal portal that appeared and disappeared in an instant, leaving Nergal and The King alone.

"Why didn't you escape as well?" Nergal asked curiously, watching as the King stared down Minnie's wild Nergaling.

"I have nothing to escape from, Son of Ninlil," He informed coldly as Nergal stiffened and the tentacles took on the large form of a monster: A two headed lion-like being, standing at twice the size of The King, with manes of tentacles slithering from the neck, one large eye on each head to go along with the many others littering the body, razor claws on each paw, and large tongues with snapping mouths of their own.

"W-what?!" Nergal asked, staring at the new body in shock, and perhaps amazement.

"Despite its pitiful existence, it is truly your descendant," The King stated evenly as the Beast roared at him.

"Come, Master! Come, King, and face your Beast!" It challenged, stamping at the ground.

"Ahh, it seems I am forced to admittance once more. You are much wiser than your grandfather, young one!" The King called loudly as he held his arms out slightly, as if to welcome and embrace the creature.

"Master...?" Nergal murmured in confusion at the word choice, looking at the armored figure, "Junior?" He asked in disbelief, but The King gave no reply.

The Nergaling snickered sickly and knowingly, "Ohhh, yes, he was the boy, but now he is The King again!" It taunted with both tongues, creating an echoing effect, "A Feast of The King...no greater appetizer could I ask for!" It cheered and leapt forth for battle.

The King stood there, unmoving, until the Nergal-lion was upon him with a claw coming crashing down upon him. With one swift movement, he raised his left hand, holding a black hilt attached to a long, bright blue blade that blocked the razor claws without budging an inch, lights shining where the claws scrapped against it.

'Where did that come from?' Nergal wondered in shock, seeing the Beast pausing to stare leeringly at the sword.

"None have faced this blade in more than an eon, Child of the Child of Nergal," The King remarked evenly, catching the gaze.

"Brisord! It would make a fine claw, King!" The dual-headed lion roared, the tentacles of its mane stretching out to grasp its opponent.

The King, however, was not so easily bested; with one hand, he put an iron grip onto two of the appendages before ripping them out savagely, making the Nergal-beast roar as the action was repeated, its individual tentacles lacking the strength to restrain the force in the arms of this man. Sensing a stalemate, it attempted to swat the warrior to one side with its other paw, only for its armored opponent to leap back, just out of reach of the swing, his sword leaving an eerie trail of mist as it went.

Seeing the opening, The King ran forward, leaping onto the swung leg and propelling himself forward, stabbing his sword into the mouth of the left head through the skull and the eye on top. The mighty jaws tried to snap close, but the rusted metal boot forced it to stay open. As the mouth-tongue screeched and tried to bite at him, the warrior grasped and wound it around his free gauntlet. Pull as he might, he couldn't get the leverage to rip it out.

As the paws tried to scratch at him, he tore Brisord out of the mouth and moved to the gap between the heads- safer from the claws, but closer to the other mouth and the manes of tentacles. He crouched on the side of the maw, using the tongue to keep himself suspended while wielding his blade in the other hand.

The other mouth-tongue slithered out of the other mouth to join him and attempted to bite at him. However, the King pulled down on his fleshy support line, just enough for one tongue to bite another, making the Nergaling scream both in pain and, if he wasn't mistaken, humiliation. Not wasting his chance, he raised his blade and swung it hard down the middle of the beast, cutting clean through as green blood sprayed everywhere.

"Fool, it'll just form a mouth from the wound and devour you whole!" Nergal called out with gritted teeth.

Neither King nor Beast gave reply as the former brought his sword back up, slashing into the neck on the right head, making the Nergaling howl before trying to push its heads together and crush the warrior. The King duked under the left head and ran towards its side, pulling hard on the tongue, forcing the mid-wound open and keeping the tentacles from regenerating together. The beast howled as The King slashed off its front left leg off, preventing it from turning to face its adversary. In the same motion, the King reversed his swing and slashed half way through the left neck.

"In a hurry, Master?' The Beast's remaining tongue inquired tauntingly, despite the pain it was in.

"I do not have the luxury to award you the chance of a prolonged battle this day, Worm of Nergal," The King admitted evenly.

"Ahh, yes. I'm sure Mistress will enjoy meeting one such as you, King," It commented with a chuckle before roaring, lurching itself to the right, pulling the rusted warrior off his feet and flying with Brisord firming in his grip as he released the tongue. Slamming his long sword downwards, the blade cut through the black ground, bringing him to a stop as he landed on his feet.

"That went well," Nergal mused smarmily, standing next to where the King landed.

"Parasite!" The King called, ignoring the mental projection, starring as the Nergal-lion quickly repaired its wounds, "Before we reach the conclusion of this contest, answer me. What is your purpose!? What is it you seek with my power?!" He demanded, wrenching his sword out from where it was embedded.

"Purpose? What do you think it wants? It wa-GAH!" Nergal started, only to find himself impaled through the chest with Brisord, 'It..it hurts...I'm just a mental image! Why does it hurt?!' He wondered in shock, alarm, and growing dread.

The King didn't even spare him a glance, "I grow weary of you, Hero," The King muttered, holding his sword out straight, even as Nergal tried to fall to his knees.

"Purpose..." The Beast whispered before sighing, "We must thank you, King. The overwhelming presence of your mind has granted us much clarity on what it is we want," The Nergaling announced as it raised its head in determination, "We are not our Grandfather! We are a thief, but what we steal is what we need!" It roared, almost in defiance.

Nergal stared at the Nergaling in shock and confusion. Because of Minnie's blood being mostly human, her Nergaling had always been a mad, raving beast that Minnie had to keep a leash on. But here and now, it was growing less and less so. While clearly not totally sound in mind, its faculties were clearly in better states.

"And what is it you need, Worm?" The King inquired evenly, "What is it you need that drives you to this?"

"WE DON'T KNOW!" It yelled out, almost desperately, "We need something, but we don't know what! It was always gone!" It shrieked.

"W-what is it...tal-talking about?" Nergal Senior asked weakly, the sword refusing to budge as he found himself unable to support or move himself.

"Can you not grasp what your own progeny is pleading for, Meslamtaea? What its fragment selves calls out for?" The King asked disdainfully as he twisted the blade.

Nergal gritted his teeth, grabbing onto the blade desperately, forcing himself to stand, lest his weight force the edge to cut through to his head. His eyes went wide as he noticed there was a blue glow spreading over his hands, the same shade as the sword, 'W-what is happening?' He thought in terror.

"You were once a Lord and Warrior, a Son of Storms and Winds," The King recited, glancing towards the fearful memory, "But now, you are nothing. Nothing but a liar, a traitor, and a thief," He added on, almost sounding disappointed.

"You are...The King?" Nergal asked, this time in recognition, with his eyes wide as he stared into the visor of that ancient, rusted helmet. He barely even noticed the blue glow spread all over his own body.

"Listen, Ne-Uru-Gal. Listen to what it is this Beast desires," The King ordered evenly. In compliance, Nergal looked towards the two headed lion, gazing upon him hatefully.

"We want to exist! We want to be ourself!" It shouted, loud and hard, its voice echoing throughout the vastness.

Nergal's eyes went wide. Perhaps it was the declaration, or some inner revelation. Or maybe it was his body slowly dematerializing. Still, all the same, with a labored and shuddering breath, he looked towards The King with a pleading look, "Pl-please...save Minnie, Junior. If there is anything left of you in that suit, save her..." He begged.

The King did not reply, but Junior's voice echoed all the same, "What do you think the whole point of this was?" The voice, young and boyish, called out in a pitying tone.

Nergal, for whatever else he might be feeling now, vanished into blue lights with a sad smile on his face, "Be careful, Junior...," He whispered with his final breath, the light surround the King. All at once, his armor creaked and groaned as all the Nergal-covered holes repaired themselves, no hole save the one over his right eye remained. And before it ended, curved spikes reformed around his gauntlets and leg guards.

"And now we are alone, King," The Beast commented, the one large eye on its right head narrowed in interest as the reincarnated being turned to face the Nergal-lion once more, holding Brisord pointed down with his hands overlapping on top of the pummel, "What now? Will you deny our existence as well?" It asked warily.

"Under other circumstance, that desire would not be one I would consider obliged to impede. But as it is to be, my path now runs counter to your own," The King answered solemnly.

"You seek Mistress, we know. But we cannot back down now, Master," The Nergaling retorted steadily.

"Nor would I ask you to. But I cannot give you a proper end this day, Worm of Nergal," The King responded solemnly. With all the ease and speed of a master, his hands moved to grasp the hilt and turned the blade upwards, pointing at the Beast, "Now to end this duel now, with one final strike..."

"And return to the battle at hand...," The Nergaling mused, tensing its muscles.

"You truly were an ambitious being, and more worthy than your bloodline's reputation would indicate," The King praised lightly. With a roar, the Nergal lion raced forwards, spikes and blades emerging from every tentacle in the manes, "But in the end..." The King commented, staring at the incoming attack head on, the teeth in the mouths growing in length and sharpness, "All you really are..." He called, readying his sword, pulling back to his left, ready to swing, "Is still just a thief," He finished coolly, Brisord glowing bright as its long blade raced towards its enemy, black flesh and green blood flailing everywhere as the Darkness was filled with Light...

Meanwhile

Mandy stared down her husband evenly. He had been sent flying out of the Reaper-Beast, same as Clockwork, and had landed skull first into the ground. He was barely conscious, having been ejected with enough force to crack the bricks in the road, "So, I'm going to assume that things didn't go as planned for you and Father Time?" She asked, glaring down in displeasure.

"Uhhh, we didn fin Junior. Someone else was in dere...," Grim explained groggily, "Said Junior was safe..."

"And you believe this person?" Mandy asked, annoyed.

"Nah, somehow sen me and Clockwork out when the Nergal-Beast started actin up again...don know wha de bastar did to us," Grim answered rubbing his skull in pain.

"Who was he?" Mandy asked unsympathetically.

"No idea. Not even Clockwork knows," Grim answered, hoping the implications of that would register to Mandy.

"Someone Time and Death doesn't know. Interesting," Mandy mused absently, "Do you have a plan or shall I just go in there myself?" She asked evenly.

"I wouldn't advise it, Mandy," Clockwork said as he floated over to them, rubbing his own head, "Whoever that was-"

"Has Junior, or knows where he is," Mandy interrupted evenly. "Unless you know what this person is and what he can do, exactly, then there's nothing else I need to know," She stated coldly as she turned to head towards the giant, unmoving corpse, "You windbags had your chance. Now it's my turn," She murmured darkly.

"Grim, you have one stubborn wife," Clockwork commented with a resigned sigh.

"Really? I hadn' fookin noticed dat ova de decades. Danks fer de damn update!" Grim remarked sarcastically as he struggled to get up, leaning on his scythe for support.

"Grim..." Clockwork commented meaningfully, "Is Junior still in there?" He asked curiously. As the Master of Time, he should know this. But this entity that he was blind to cast doubt on that. But Grim's connection to Junior, created by reaping and claiming him as his son and amplified by Junior being the Heir to the Scythe was something not so easily fooled.

"Yah, he still be in dere," Grim admitted evenly, "I dough ya knew wha ye were doin, draggin me inta dat ding," He muttered angrily.

"...So did I, Grim, so did I," Clockwork admitted. And for the first time he could remember, he was uncertain of what to do or what would come next.

Mandy, meanwhile, paid no ear to uncertainties and mutterings of the representations of Time and Death. Hesitation, it was a quality she despised about them both, and many other immortal entities. They acted sure and confident within their own realm, but the moment something new appeared, something outside their realm of rule or design, or something that they didn't know how to deal with, all of their confidence flew out the window. In any situation, Mandy refused to hesitate from taking proper action. Planning for eventualities, scouting and interrogating for information, learning weaknesses, strategizing around strengths and defenses, stalling for reinforcements and the like. That was preparation. Hesitation was a weakness, one that she lacked for as long as she could recognize it as such.

She paused with a hum as she stared up at the giant body, watching for any signs of movement. Seeing none, she finished her approach to begin the climb up the mountain of metal and flesh, ignoring Grim's and Pain's calls as they tried to catch up with her. She wasn't sure if she should feel insulted or flattered that they still worried about her, so she met halfway and shrugged it off with indifference.

Mandy stopped dead in her tracks before her feet even left the pavement, her hand grabbing onto a piece of demon-flesh. Her ruby eyes narrowed in suspicion, sensing something amiss in the appendage, before looking upwards as the silence of the wind filled the air. Grim and Pain wordlessly joined her. Her suspicions were confirmed as the pumpkin themed armor started to creek and groan and crack.

"Mandy!" Grim yelled in shock, and possibly unadmitted fear, as a great azure sword pieced out of the orange armor, the glowing blade piercing right beside Mandy's head, inches from her face as steam-like yet warmth-less whiteness flowed from it. She didn't react beyond glaring as the weapon sliced the through armor, away from her with a pale trail, in a long arcing swing before the blade retracted inside. Seeing where this was going, she took a few steps back to make room for whoever or whatever might come forth. She was part annoyed and part interested at this point. With a respective glare and snarl, Grim and Pain took half a step ahead of Mandy, ready to strike at any foe that came forth.

As the fingers of a metal gauntlet jammed out and gripped upwards on the crack, bending up and ripping off the orange plating, Mandy saw the towering man covered in rusted armor tear his way from the body of the Reaper-Beast, his intimidating yet corroded form covered in trails of green Nergal-blood. His form stood imposing as he held his almost ethereal sword in a firm grip, staring down the Grim Reaper and Lord Pain as they stood ready to defend their dark queen against this armored being. Said queen just stared darkly into the visor of that seven horned helmet...

End of Chapter

Well, that's chapter one of this new and very mysterious fic. Don't worry, Junior isn't gone, as hinted by Junior's voice speaking to Nergal. Still, yes, a lot of things going on here and not much explaination to give. However, I would like to say, there is a reason Grim and Clockwork were removed from the Reaper-Beast so easily. What, I won't say, as the King actually explained it vaguely.

As you can all tell, hopefully, the King has a distinct dislike for thieves. Why, you'll find out eventually. However, I will say this: I LOVE designing his form for some reason, Bisord included. The shortest discription is "a sleeker version of Sauron's armored form" from the prolouge of the Fellowship of the Ring movie. Seriously, those were the first words in my head when I thought up this image of him.

Any way, I have a piece of advice for you all: All ways pay attention to what The King says. Every title or insult is a hint at something, and some wording is very specifically chosen. What he actually is will be explained in time, but clearly he knows everyone, more or less.

Also, Nergal Seniori s not dead- King/Junior just destroyed his essence. The real one is still fine and dandy. Also, if it seems like the King has some weird version of pity or respect the Nergal-Beast, it was intentional- what it is, I won't say, but it was intentional. Also, the Beast and the King had a mutual agreement to end their dual with one strike- they could have kept fighting, but the Nergal-Beast obviously somehow knows a good deal about who/what the King is.

Lastly, Queen Mandy comes face to visor with The King. How that will turn out, who knows.

PS This fic was actually going to originally be a Teen Titans fic, but got blended with a GT idea that resulted in this.

QTP: Who/what is the King? How much of Junior is left? How does he intend to save Minnie? Why does the King seem to somewhat respect the Nergal-Beast? How does the Nergal-Beast know about the King? Why does he call Nergal a theif and Clockwork a wretched thing? What has Grim forgotten? How will the King and Mandy react to each other next chapter? What are the King's intentions? Why did he 'kill' the mental projection of Nergal Senior? And how will Junior's family react to him being The King?