Peter kept looking across the room, towards his neatly folded JUSS uniform which had a really dull green color.
Why can’t it be the cool black color like the elites? Probably be I am a “junior” elite.
To Peter, it makes no sense. Either you are an elite or not, there can’t be any in between.
The whole apollo has taken his life by storm. All the plans he made with his team (Elysie, Melana, Chelsie, and Allan) made his mind so overwhelmed.
This apollo doesn’t seem right through. He has a feeling that this apollo is more then it seems. That it’s more important top him then it seems. It gives him a sense of fear. A fear that his inner feeling thinks is true.
He shakes it off quickly.
Stop psyching yourself off. Just go to sleep.
Peter laid back in bed and slowly dozed off. Again, not knowing that another dream is about to haunt him further.
--------------------------------
Peter picked up the sword.
“Get into the front car,”he said. “Everybody.”
“What are you going to do?”said Wendy.
“The only thing that will stop them,” he said, looking at the chest.
“Peter,”said Wendy,”you can’t.”
“Please,”said Peter,”I’ll be all right. This is our only chance. They’ll have us in another minute.”
There was no argument to that.
“Go to the front, and stay away from the passageway,”said Peter. “Mr.Magill, when I tell you, call Karl.”
Reluctantly, the others went into the front car. Peter holding the sword, positioning himself next to the chest. Karl, still snarling had been backed up halfway through the cart. The Skeleton came relentlessly forwards, followed by the guards and Ombra. Peter tried not to look at the glowing eyes, He knew they were looking at him.
Another station flashed past.
Peter took a breath, then turned to Magill.
“Now!”he shouted.
Magill growled something with a roar, Karl reared up on his hind legs, took a massive swiped at the Skeleton, then spun and ran past Peter, into the front car.
Now Peter stood alone next to the chest. He tapped the lock with the sword.
“If you come any close,”he said. “I’ll break it open.”
The Skeleton hesitated.
Ombra spoke, his groan coming through the charred hole that had once been von Schatten’s mouth: “You don’t know that the sword will break the lock..”
“You don’t know that it won’t,”said Peter.
A moment of silence. Another station flashed past. The train rocked violently as it rounded a curve it was not to take at such a high speed. Peter staggered sideways, then caught himself.
Ombra moved forward, toward the Skeleton. The guards spread to the sides of the car. Ombra groaned something, too low for Peter to hear. Peter gripped the sword tightly and drew it back.
There was an urgent sound from Tink, and at the same instant the two creatures moved toward Peter, the Skeleton to his right and Ombra to his left. With all his strength, Peter swung the sword at the lock. The two piece of metal clashed together in a brilliant cascade of sparks; there was a clattering sound as the tip broke off and fell to the floor. A light whiter than white filled the car.
-------------------
Bam!
Peter groaned loudly when he connected with the floor. He slowly rubbed his eyes and noticed that there was something under his bed, Something shiny.
He slowly reached out and touched the shiny thing.
It felt really warm. Then he grabbed it and felt it cutting into his hand.
“Ouch!” he mumble and drew back his hand with a hiss.
He looked at his palm and blood was quickly dripping out of the slit in his hand.
He then again, tentatively reached for the tip, not wanting to cut his other hand.
When he looked at it in bright moonlight, he knew what it was.
The Sword of Mercy.
Then he remembered the dream.
“Ahh!” He yelled a little too loudly as he dropped the tip and backed up into the wall, away from the tip.
Was that dream real? Why is the tip here? What is happening? Why is this happening?
All Peter could do is look in fear at the tip. All he could think is why the tip was still there, gleaming in the middle of the room.
Was that nightmare real? Was he actually in that dream?
Was it really real?
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