An Exchange Between Strangers.

". . . . ."

"This is unexpected."

"Agreed. Where am I, exactly?"

"You are in a world known as Utopia."

"Bizarre. That's the name of the world I just came from."

"Is it your home?"

"No. I originated from another world."

"Another world? ...Tell me more about it."

"The world I came from has a history of war. There were many battles...many casualties. But that was the way things were."

"The way things were...?"

"We followed a code of battle. When two or more of my people agreed to fight each other, only the person or team that survived was the true victor. None of the opposition was to remain alive, otherwise the battle would have been considered inconclusive."

"It sounds like a harsh code."

"I've been told this, but not by the people of my home world."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I have no complaints. Not of the code."

"You accept it?"

"I do."

"Would you then be willing to risk your life in order to battle?"

"Yes. In fact, I have always wanted to become one of my home world's greatest warriors."

"Why is that?"

"My father was a soldier in one of my world's greatest wars. He and an army of over one thousand other warriors entered the battlefield against the enemy's army, which was twice that number. When the battle ended, only my father emerged from the site -- everyone else had been slain."

"Only your father?"

"Most of his allies were quickly defeated, but he had incredible instincts and managed to defeat five hundred foes through his own power and skill."

"Impressive."

"Just 'impressive?' He was an amazing man. I admired his accomplishment, as did many others. Since then I have wanted to follow his footsteps. I've spent years training and developing my body and mind for the day when I would be able to fight as a soldier. Many have considered me to be a prodigy, saying that my fighting skills exceeded many others that were twice my age. And yet..."

"And yet?"

"Little did I realize that my world was changing. The aspect of physical combat was beginning to wane from public interest. They developed other means of settling differences -- ones that required little or no violence. And they became the ideal. It had gotten to the point where physical strength and ability became meaningless."

"I find that hard to believe."

"So did I. And yet armies were disappearing in favor of debate teams, martial arts were set aside in favor of simpler sports, and tests of strength and agility were soon replaced by tests of intelligence and mental aptitude. Before long I was the only one in my world that still valued physical strength and ability, and I had no avenue to utilize that which I've trained most of my life to master."

"I'm sorry for you."

"One day I came across one of my world's visioneers--"

"Visioneers?"

"I'm told some worlds refer to them as scientists."

"Ah."

"One of them had been developing a machine that granted access to other worlds beyond our plane of existence. The thought seemed intriguing to me, if just as a theoretical way to find someone to fight."

"You didn't..."

"I asked the visioneer if I were able to try entering another world. There were a number of warnings about using it in its current state, among them the strong likelihood that I may never return to my home, and that I would be abandoned in a world in which I didn't fit in. While it seemed like a threatening situation, I eventually thought--"

"You were already living in a world where you didn't fit in."

"...Yes. And I became insistent on using the machine."

"And that brought you to Utopia."

"Yes. Naturally there were many that noticed I was an unusual visitor, but I kept to myself. Only when someone wanted to fight--"

"No."

"Yes."

"And you adhered to your battle code."

"I did."

"I can't imagine that would be taken very well by the native people."

"It wasn't. But at the time I almost welcomed the increased attention. Others wanted to fight me from then on, most of the time because I had defeated someone they knew. Many of the opponents I faced were not even challenging, but I would eventually be confronted by beings known to them as Legends, powerful creatures that acted as protectors of the general society."

"Hmm."

"They were more interesting to fight, as they were varied in stature and ability, and could hold their own much longer. But they still weren't able to take me on. News of my strength began to spread, and it was obvious that my presence brought on a lot of negative reception...fear among all else."

"I can't say things would be much different here."

"A part of my mind knew that I was doing something that Utopia considered wrong. But at the time I was desperate. With all the time I took to train, I wanted to fight someone. I couldn't satisfy that desire in my home world, not when no one was willing to confront me...and there were so many in this new world that were willing to battle me. It was a situation I've wanted to experience for years."

"And no one could stop you from killing others in Utopia?"

"Well...eventually I was introduced to a different type of beast. It was known as a 'Creation.'"

"...A 'Creation?'"

"A person or beast that was created through supernatural means. Their strength and abilities exceeded any natural beings in that world. I was confronted by one that heard of my skills...he was very curious to learn more about me."

"In battle?"

"Not at first, but I let him know that I was not in the mood for an interrogation. I answered many of his questions, some involving my history as I've told you, and others regarding the ethics of my actions. Eventually I dismissed his questioning and told him that unless he wanted to fight, I was going to take my leave. And so he accepted my challenge."

"Who or what did you fight?"

"An old-looking person covered in fur of white and blue. His attire didn't suggest much -- a pair of overalls and a red shirt -- but he was a surprisingly capable fighter. Many of his moves seemed strangely similar to my own, but we both knew techniques that the other would not expect."

"And I assume you managed to kill him too."

"...No."

"No?"

"At first I thought I had finally landed a killing blow, thrusting a blade through his chest. But when I stepped back to watch him die, I realized something was wrong. He did not bleed...he did not even show a wound. He looked like he briefly suffered a sharp pain, but then he recovered shortly afterwards. Needless to say, I was stunned."

"You couldn't kill him?"

"He couldn't be killed."

"How is that possible?"

"It is another detail of Creations, apparently. Only a powerful 'magic' has the potential to destroy a Creation, I was told. When I realized the situation I had gotten myself into was a guaranteed loss, I no longer stood my ground and prepared for a quick end."

"But he could not kill you either."

"He didn't try to. He said that it would have been a waste of a great fighting talent. I didn't understand why he wasn't going to kill me even after the many people I killed in his world, though he insisted that my actions were based on my own morals. He noticed that I didn't try to kill those that didn't want to fight... he believed that I wasn't truly a 'bad' person."

"How did you feel about it?"

"More confused than anything."

"No guilt?"

"...I suppose there was a little guilt. But when you follow the beliefs of one world while in a very different world--"

"..."

"Okay. I suppose there was a lot of guilt. But there was plenty of confusion too."

"So after this fight...?"

"After this fight, he brought me to other Legends, who deliberated upon what to do with me after what I had done. There were arguments over my beliefs and actions, and eventually they decided the best action was to send me off to another world. So they called on the assistance of another, more powerful Creation, and he opened another gateway for me to travel through."

"That's how you got here."

"Yes."

"And what do you plan to do now that you've arrived?"

"...I was still hoping to enter battle."

"I see."

"But I will be more intelligent about it. Your Utopia doesn't happen to have an army that I can join, does it?"

"No. Much like the Utopia you just left, there are only the normal civilians and the stronger protectors...the Legends."

"Are you fighting any common enemy?"

"We did once. But they have since been destroyed."

"Your Legends sound very strong."

"No, the Legends have nothing to do with it. They could not destroy this enemy."

"Then how--"

"I was the only one that could."

"...But you--"

"Yes, I know. I don't really look like a Utopian or a Legend. Much like you, I've felt out of place in the world I live in. But I've experienced it longer...I grew up in this world, where everyone wasn't sure what to make of me. I wasn't sure of what to make of myself either...there were no answers for what I was or where I came from."

"Did you ever find your answer?"

"Yes. And apparently I was sent to this world when I was still an infant...my parents were trying to save me from a terrible fate."

"...Not to barge into your own story, but did this fate have any connection to the enemy you eventually destroyed?"

"Yes."

"You must be a very capable warrior."

"I've tried my best to build up my skills. Though, I came upon my special abilities by accident when the first traces of this enemy began to invade this world. The few that witnessed what I had done...most of them became fearful of me as much as they feared my enemy, but one had offered to help me build upon my newfound powers. And for the ten or so years that followed I stayed in a secluded place, until I felt I was ready to reemerge into the world."

"What did you do then?"

"I decided, with the new skills I had found, I would help protect the general population. I had begun to call myself a Legend, even though no one could establish what I actually was. The native Legends weren't very accepting of me, and some even confronted me, making threats."

"Did you try to fight them?"

"No. It would have only built upon the lingering fear others had of me. Some of the Legends even went out of their way to build the fear to greater heights, suggesting that I would one day turn on the world and cause some sort of apocalypse."

"And you just let them do that to you?"

"I remained patient, and I kept helping others when they would let me. Eventually there were moments where I was seen as a hero instead of a threat, and that helped me gain some allies...some friends. Tell me, have you ever had friends?"

"...No."

"Neither did I. But seeing people stand up for me, cheering me on...it was something I wasn't used to. But I liked it."

"It must feel wonderful to be a hero."

"It isn't without its difficulties, as I've already told you. But it seems like patience and perseverence can help reveal your true self to the world."

"..."

"Something on your mind?"

"Forgive me. Hearing your story, I'm a little hesitant to ask--"

"You want to fight me, don't you?"

"......Yes."

"I somehow figured. You would want to follow your code of battle as well?"

"......"

"...I am willing to fight you, but I don't know how you want it to end."

"I don't really know either. I've never had these sorts of conflicts with morals enter my mind before.."

"Perhaps you're beginning to realize that mental conflicts can be just as difficult as physical ones."

"I suppose so..."

"Maybe you'll find your answer while we fight."

"Alright. I'll go with that."

"Before we begin then, please tell me what people call you."


"I am known as Graphite."



"...So am I."