“You are here because I thought you could use a break. Also you fell unconscious, so I thought I would talk to you till you woke up. I also have something that you can’t see out there.” Tim said with a smile

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Simple, someone who’s way way stronger than you is about to show up.”

“I thought we won, the note from the future said so.”

“It did but it didn’t say how. Also didn’t that note warn you to watch your head? You should have been more prudent about that.”

“So nothing has changed?”

“Of course, it has already affected you so it will eventually happen.”

“So who is this person that is gonna show up?”

“The real masked man.”

“What?”

* * *

The masked man walked towards Iscarat. Past the incapascitated Scott and to the edge of the barrier. The familiars stood guard with their halberts ready but the masked man stopped. He turned back and looked at the bridge. The sound of metallic footsteps rang through the area. Then he saw it. The mask peering over the bridge.

Pure white with a black streak going from the top left down to the right jawline. From the eye slits were red lines that almost looked like an endless stream of bloody tears. The rest of his body was covered with a greyed coat whose coat tails hung down to his ankles. On his forearms and lower legs was a red glowing platemale that also covered his feet. At his side was a sword with a masterfully decorated hilt and to match his outfit his hair was a long silvery-grey.

“So the real one reveals himself. Are you mad that I was pretending to be you? Everyone swears your dead. So have you come back from the dead? What is the answer, Micheal?” The fake masked man yelled out as the real one continued walking forward. Then he stopped in the middle of the bridge and pulled the sword from his side. The blade seemed to glow in the same red as his armor. He said nothing.

“So it is you. Only you wield that blade. Arthur did entrust it to you after all. Although even if that blade can kill an Elder One it will be useless since I am immune to physical attacks.” The fake said before charging at the real masked man.

The fake masked man punched at him but the real one blocked it with his left forearm and parried with a thrust of his sword. The fake dodged just in time and attempted to punch him again. It hit him right in the jaw. The real masked man’s mask morphed in return, the mouth slit opened up revealing several layers of sharp teeth. The fake jumped back as it tried to bite him.

“Well, that’s a new trick. Did your mask come to life as part of it’s curse?” The fake asked.

“...”

“Still not going to talk to me? Fine then, die!” he yelled before several hundred strings surrounded him. They enclosed around him like a net until he couldn’t move. “Blood magic? That seems a little low even for you.”

“...”

“Oh, I know about these. A witch can sacrifice their own blood or someone else's in order to create weapons and traps from them for them to use. However I have no clue where these came from. ”

The real masked man held out his blade and dropped it onto the ground. However it didn’t hit the ground, instead it disappeared. Then hundreds of the same blade he dropped shot out of the empty space around the fake and impaled him. The fake began laughing uncontrollably.

“Now I see. Dimensional magic as well. What an interesting combination, but did you think that would kill me?” he cried out as the blood wrappings dissipated. Underneath the wrappings showed that the blades had pierced the robe but not his flesh. The real masked man held out his hand in turn and his sword returned to his hand from the ground in which he had dropped it before.

“...”

“I am curious as to how you were able to damage the robe but that can wait. We need to wrap this up so I can get back to forcing that child to bring me back.”

“It won’t work, it’s too late to save her.”

“What do you know? The first thing out of your mouth since we started this fight and that’s what you have to say you ass.”

“...”

“Fine, have it your way.”