Cancer

The pale waters of the West Gate, the Lacus Mortis, were as still and as quiet as death itself. What life would teem through the waters only drifted underneath as completely lifeless corpses trapped between the pressures of the depth of the water and the water, itself. Life was long drained from them and each of the aquatic creatures were like stillborn children. They did not decay, for even that function had stopped in them, and there was no breath in their nostrils. In the distance, where the rivers extended from the great lake, there were streams of fire, as well as those that were murky and black like the swamp. Where they went, no one knew, but where they all converged was here at this pale blend of each of their consistencies as one bland and deathly lake -- the Lacus Mortis.

Though life was nowhere to be found in the vessels long devoid, nor was decay, deterioration or even motion, there was but one great entity that moved throughout the furthest depths of the waters where the pressure of the deep and the water itself did not halt nor drain of life. A single, bulbous eye larger than even the greatest of boulders upon the abysmal lake's floor opened up, its size like that of a mountain and gleaming brightly like a flashlight. There was motion; a single swipe of something unseen from the darkness and swept up the lifeless sea-faring creatures with one swoop, clearing out a large chunk of them in one swift motion. Afterward, everything fell back to its strange and perpetual motionless silence... except for the faint sound of what seemed to be gurgled chewing and suction, and the gleaming eye coming to a close once again, letting darkness fall upon the waters once more.

The Pumpkin Head finally reached a place where it could not tread through hovering -- the West Gate, Lacus Mortis -- where the Void Sun in the sky blackened all things, including the pitch dark waters that were below, undulating in a fashion that depicted them differently from the pitch black sky above. The horizon line was blended together, but only when the sea undulated was it able to be told apart from the sky that was literally its blackened mirror image.

"Living Shadow..." Pumpkinhead called out, drawing forth the darkness of the Pitch Black Energy at his disposal to serve as his own body, which was known as the 'Nightshade'. The Pitch Black Energy was absorbed from the sky and the sea, pulling the both of them as well as the shadow cast by the Pumpkin Head's light to one amalgamation that was Pumpkinhead's 'Nightshade' form. He would be known as 'Nightshade' for the present time, and as 'Nightshade', the Living Shadow was able to traverse the deep.

However, Pumpkinhead was not so folly in this endeavor as to simply dive into the depth of the pitch black waters. Instead, he only lingered around the edge, where the pale ground became pitch dark ocean.

Pumpkinhead waited, something like if he were fishing, for the waters to undulate again, showing no concern for what may be lingering behind.

Trailing behind the Pumpkin Head was the Black Gemini which had separated from the White Gemini. It was hobbling due to its separation from its other half, and now was the partial remains of what was once a whole complete Gemini.

Black Gemini had one peg leg and two spindly arms, as well as one vertical eye on its face and one drooping horn resembling a tuft of hair. Its torso was the opposite color of its head and arms and leg, serving as a type of armor over its chest and also part of its actual chest, itself.

Black Gemini was capable of motion both through moving its arms like legs as well as jumping and using its leg as a pivot for when it hopped about. It was able to hover for short periods of time, but it was weakened and had very few abilities otherwise. It moved something like a gorilla, but simultaneously like a weak and scrawny old man, sticking its single leg on the ground like a pivot whilst using its knuckles to walk again.

Though it was weak, it was determined to continue its belligerent fighting with the source of power. Its single eye beamed with a malignant glare something like the burning fires of hell that the previous part of it suffered through, which this one could feel through a special psychic connection. It was fueled by the power of its fallen other half and became stronger, but was still weak as a separate entity. It glared at Pumpkinhead without blinking, its eye quivering as if a sharp edge to cut through the pumpkin. The power it had was in its Third Eye -- the Gem In Eye. As it observed the target of its malevolence, it would understand that the weaker it became, it somehow got stronger, though was still only half of what it could be when at its most powerful.

The Gemini did not move at all, but awaited what Pumpkinhead would do, growing in power just from having to sit there and think about all of the horrible suffering it was going through just because of the loss of its other half. A strange, dark aura came over it as it stood stuck in the ground, raising itself up to tower over Pumpkinhead. "YOUR POWER IS MINE" is all that it could think of and say, since it had a relatively singular one-track mind, especially without its partner to counteract that sort of thought process and give it a method of thinking of something else that was in opposition or conflict with its own one thought that it would follow through on regardless.

Its loud and obnoxious voice undulated the deep, however, and underneath the pitch black water, something began to churn.

Nightshade Pumpkinhead would have none of this 'clinging' mess that the remnant Gemini insisted upon doing. There were plenty of other creatures that tried such a tactic before, and in all honesty, Pumpkinhead hated it. It was like when an animal was clinging to its last little bit of life and became rabid or feral, even when wounded, and tried to bite or snap back at what was about to deliver the finishing blow. "You Should Have Stuck Together..." is all Pumpkinhead muttered before a sharp edge slipped out of the dark cloak that was its Living Shadow resting gently under its head as the pedestal for the Pumpkin Head to rest on.

In one quick flash, a sharp slash sliced through the atmosphere, followed by a flurry of at least 100 extra miniature cuts through the very air, itself, all in a gust before and around the Gemini, which was the Pumpkinhead's target. "Two Heads Are Better Than One..." he continued, "... You Should Have Found A Way To Work Together With Your Other Half..."

Lecturing the Gemini now would do no good. Fortunately, Pumpkinhead was never the type for such, nor taking his eyes off of the prize. The Gemini was no longer a threat, and likely, the several severe slashes all at the speed of the blink of an eye should have hack-sawed the spindly creature up into bits and pieces of nothingness, as it was to Pumpkinhead. "I Have Bigger Fish To Fry..." he went on, gazing deeply and intensely into the depths of the pitch black sea. The new fluctuation of the water was a warning sign to Pumpkinhead... and he knew that the next beast lay deep underneath the quiet of the sea. He needed to keep his head about him if he wanted to defeat this one, for it was at full power and, if he was correct about the stillness of the deep underneath... it had just eaten, as well.

It only took that one single slash for the Gemini to react, even with the flurry behind it. Gemini may have been weak, but its special power was in its EYE to SEE, and the Third Eye of the Gemini was more than actively open. The other two eyes were hidden not on its face, but on the palms of its hands, for taking what it saw with its Third Eye.

What Pumpkinhead did not know was that when Gemini targeted something, it linked to the Third Eye, so it had some sort of psionic connection to them in order for it to manipulate its way into acquiring what it was looking at in its mind's eye. It envisioned Pumpkinhead's strike as soon as it was thought about, and each of the slashes were dodged or blocked based on how the Gemini mentally depicted Pumpkinhead's attack. Thus, it did not fall, but stood there, menacingly, waiting for the chance to catch Pumpkinhead off guard -- the time of which was immediately after the strike.

"YOU LOSE!!!" it shrieked out, extending its long, slender arms out to literally snatch the Pumpkin Head from off of its high tower of darkness. The power of the souls as well as the fallen Gemini would be in the hands of the Black Gemini if it were able to acquire the Pumpkin Head for itself by felling the enemy. That would surely give it everything it ever sought in life and almost death, and it would be so powerful that all the Zodiac would bow down to the Gemini alone -- especially when it was bound back together. That is what Gemini was after since the very beginning, where the Twin had to look at the elders of the Zodiac muscle their way into getting whatever they wanted in the Universe just because they were the elders, leaving poor, envious Gemini to play by itself and with itself. It was adept at doing that, which is why when it was at full power, it was at its greatest as long as both were focused on the same target. It was only unfortunate that it split its power up at the wrong time, else Pumpkinhead might have had a more formidable foe.

Still, Gemini's incessant screaming disturbed the peace of the quiet death-like silence that served as the ambiance of the Lacus Mortis, causing the very waters before the both of them to rear up and attack at the next shrill cry that Gemini made with its selfish insistence to screech out its will. A massive, powerful claw something the side of a mountain rose up a tidal wave of deadly, soul-sucking black water from out of the ocean and clamped down hard on the very exact spot where both Pumpkinhead and Gemini were, easily able to dwarf the both of them and cover the fullness of a third of the land mass that they stood upon to prevent any type of escape or running away. The two should have literally been crushed like pancakes under the heavy duty claw and the crushing pressure of the force of the tsunami behind it crashing down with the crushing claw's own pressure for double the impact. The ground should have literally compressed and shattered, breaking off and being nothing but cracked bits and pieces of what was once a whole entire land mass.

Gemini and Pumpkinhead should have been dead, to say the very least; drowned, if not crushed under the heavy impact of the gargantuan crab-like claw. Only a single glowing spotlight in the midst of the sea resembling the shape of the full moon waning in the water could be seen in the depths at that point, humming at a high-pitched frequency that denoted the wrath of the being to which the crab-claw belonged.

"There..." Pumpkinhead grumbled, seeing that the creature of his own focus had finally risen up in a similar frustration as he had for the Gemini, "... The Big Dipper."

There was no laughter.

"Don't Touch..." was all Pumpkinhead uttered before the Pumpkin Head resting upon the Nightshade spontaneously combust in a hellish conflagration of fire that melted the very hands of Gemini upon even nearing contact and also the gigantic claw that threatened the same. Nightshade Pumpkinhead only stilled there for a moment before the Nightshade slipped off down into the depths of the sea, not even paying Gemini any mind to see if it were still alive. Likewise, the Pumpkin Head that bid its Living Shadow -- the Nightshade -- about would hover rather hastily toward the central spot on the sea where the glowing light of what seemed to be the moon in a pitch black sky under a Void Sun reflected in the waters. "The Moon Does Not Give Light Here..." is all the Pumpkin Head said. Clearly, neither did the sun. Thus, the Cancer was definitely where the light was, and the Nightshade was already in the deep.

The Pumpkin Head hovered over the dark water and did not move, watching the waves of the water very, very carefully, having the Nightshade move in tune with the waves in the sea. Whatever movements there were in this shadowy deep, the Nightshade moved naturally along with it. As long as light did not shine in the deep, the Nightshade was there. Everywhere light shone, it was not.

The sea churned and toiled, bubbling with heat under the ray of light that glowed beneath. It flashed red for a moment or so, then became brighter and illuminated the depths in order to reveal itself -- a large, spacecraft looking being with sharp, mollusk-like teeth underneath the gargantuan singular eye that took up the other half of its ovular form that the mouth did not. There were four claws coming from this U.F.O.-like being; 2 were very small and upon its rear, one was normal sized and the final was the size of a mountain, something like the rotund body of this circumferal entite.

One swing of the mountainous claw changed the entire flow of the waters underneath, and the bright shine of its one eye could penetrate darkness for many-a-league beneath the ocean's deep. It would burn through the darkness like a high-powered spotlight on a stage, searching for the Nightshade that it literally saw slip into the ocean and blend in with the dark depths, something like the Cancer did when it was first hunting for feed.

The pain of the light on the shadowy body of Pumpkinhead caused it to react with instability, yet did not completely damage the form covered by the remainder of the darkness. The eye in the deep was like a searchlight; high powered and panning over the surface wherever the light would breach. This caused Pumpkinhead to omit intense radiation from the pain that was like a light all its own, but with the tension of that of a reactor bomb. Pumpkinhead was aware that the Cancer that used the darkness of the waters to hide itself was in fear of being discovered, despite its massive size and power. There was something about why it was hiding itself that made it susceptible to being found. As soon as it was, it would be vulnerable -- probably in its eye and not anywhere else. From the looks of it, the size of its eye was so massive that it was an easy target, though the beast itself might not go down so easily. Taking out the eye first was paramount.

So, the Pumpkin Head floating over the deep would release its traction in the air and gently fall to the sea like a balloon losing its air, and the moment it was about to touch the waters, it would explode with a magnanimous force like that of a condensed supernova, blowing away a large portion of the dark water and hopefully exposing the Cancer. The radiation from the explosion would be sustained at the very edges of its radius so that the full circumference of the explosion was covered in the fullness of the sphere of influence. That would mean that if the Cancer were to go anywhere into this bubble of heat, the light would expose it and the heat would burn it, likely to do damage to the eye. The Pumpkin Head remained where it was, suspended within its own heat rays to ensure no water could enter the vicinity of its radiation and that it did not touch the deadly waters of Lacus Mortis, which killed off whatever was not part of its ecosystem of death. The suspension kept the Pumpkin Head in place where it was and it would not be able to move, but it could see everything that entered or exit its domain.

The Nightshade merely ensured that the water was no longer present by encompassing the light in a container of darkness so that whatever was beyond the radius of the explosion was actively sensed. A very powerful crushing pressure would overcome anywhere that there was darkness, like an egg in the grip of a hand that was slowly closing in on it, cracking it before crushing it. Likely, the Cancer would be like that egg and be crushed under the pressure, unless its carapace was hard enough to be able to withstand that type of force weighing down upon it.

The initial sudden explosion and the burning light from it damaged the unsuspecting Cancer, which immediately drew its massive claw up to cup around its eye, shielding the only unprotected part of its body. It withdrew from the light and out back into the darkness, its eye having suffered damage from the radiation. There was temporary blindness and a scorching sensation, but otherwise, it was fine.

But pressure suddenly intensified in the already pressurized waters, constricting the movement of the Cancer severely. Though it could still maneuver, because of the position and mass of its largest claw, it would not be able to move, and because it was covering its eye, it could not see, either. The three smaller claws seemed to be able to move still, though in a very limited fashion. The Cancer was aware that it was in danger now and swam toward the warm, trudging through the thickened water. The claw would protect it from the light and allow it to escape the pressure plus give it an opening to strike at the Pumpkin Head. This attack would happen as soon as the Cancer entered the vicinity of the light and was free to swing its giant arm again.

The protection of the Cancer's thick and heavily armored claw and body could protect it long enough to get within striking distance of the Pumpkin Head, however once Cancer was completely enveloped in the light of the Pumpkin Head, the Nightshade that was outside of the light's vicinity constricted, sealing off the area beyond the light. The Cancer would not be able to escape now, and would instead be forced to be boiled to death like a crab. The unyielding light and heat from the radiation would quickly wear away at even the tough armor of the Cancer, and eventually, it would all wear away.

The eye of the Cancer, which was obviously its greatest strength beyond its large claw, would be exposed and unprotected, constantly being damaged, and quickly trapping Cancer in another unerring pain, like the previous Zodiacs had been trapped in by Pumpkinhead.

As futile as it was at this point for the Cancer to try to attack, since its main means of offense and defense was burnt away under the intense light of the Pumpkin Head and its vulnerable spot was exposed and constantly sustaining damage with no means of further protection, it writhed in pain endlessly. The blinding, scorching light disallowed for it to see what was going on, and its retina was burnt out, preventing it from seeing at all any longer. With the remaining three smaller claws around its saucer-like body, it tried to claw its way out of the protective barrier that the Nightshade closed around the border of the light. However, it was far too thick, and the smaller claws were much weaker than the now-disintegrated primary claw.

All the Cancer could do was let its ever-exposed giant eye shrivel and dry, and the rest of its body to scorch to death. Even if Cancer didn't die, the excrutiating pain that it suffered would last as long as it was within the light, and the damage was permanent.

The Pumpkin Head watched as the Cancer tried to escape, now blind, and seething. Pumpkinhead seemed to bear no emotion as he watched it suffer, but thought about the remainder of the corrupt Zodiac that needed to be punished. It was still a long path ahead, but he had a mission to complete.

The Nightshade, which was out in the darkness and containing the light and the Cancer, was released and cast off toward the next Zodiac on the list, located at the East Gate. Once the Nightshade was sent on its way, the Pumpkin Head began to beep; slowly at first, then gradually more fervently. Finally, with a decisive beep, the Pumpkin Head detonated with power that rivaled the stellar force of a myriad of contained supernovas happening all at the same time all in the same spot, the blast wiping out everything in a flash of light.