The Chronicles of The Room of Many Doors. Pt 1.

[Living_Hellfire]

In the gap between realities there is a room. It exists outside of time and space, at the nexus of all realities. It is a small, windowless room made entirely of seamless stone of apocryphal origin. The only source of light is a pedestal in the centre of the room, atop which burns an eldritch flame, devoid of any apparent source of fuel. The only other thing of note is The Door. This door is The Many Doors, though there is but one. Through it one may pass to any time, place or reality, for all realities exist be they discovered places, times or things or be they simply the creations of the mind through imagination or fevered dreams. This is a story of The Room of Many Doors

 

The Man in Black emerged from the flame burning atop the pedestal in The Room. He was alone, as usual. The smoke from the cigar jammed between his teeth stuttered slightly as it rose from the cherry, creating a zig-zag pattern in the air before simply coalescing into a cloud around The Man's head, encircling his fedora like a halo.

 

He was on vacation, taking a break from the regular patrolling and coaching and teaching youngsters how to use their abilities responsibility, for the benefit of others. Even angels need a day off on occasion. It was time for an adventure for himself. He puffed the cigar before jamming it into his breast pocket. He turned, tugged at his suit jacket, straightened his tie and made his way towards the door, his hard-soled leather loafers clicking their defiance against the oppressive silence of The Room. He adjusted his shades slightly before sighing to himself as he stared at the seemingly simple wooden door with the brass handle.

 

Where would he go? Normally he would simply imagine his destination and open The Door and he would emerge precisely where he intended, but this time... this time was different. He simply wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere he'd never been. He wanted to experience something new, yet familiar and so he held that thought in his mind, closed his eyes and opened the door.

 

He arrived in a city. A loud city. He emerged what appeared to be a barrel fire in an alleyway. Thankfully there was no one about to see him appear, however it did seem clear that this was a place inhabited by persons unknown. A sleeping bag was laid across the rear of the alley with a shopping cart parked near by, full to overflowing with all manner of scavenged personal effects, aluminum cans and various other bits and bobs. In effect, the alley was every alley The Man in Black had ever seen; dirty, dingy, dark and depressing, never mind the smell. He plucked the still lit cigar from his breast pocket and jammed it back between his molars and made his way briskly to the elbow of the alley whereupon he turned right and emerged onto the sidewalk of a busy, boisterous city street. He looked up at the street signs to discover that he was at the corner of Burrard Street and 7th Avenue.

 

The streets were jammed, both on and off the asphalt. Taxis, delivery trucks, construction vehicles and private motorists all competed for the same extra six inches as they waited and sprinted in equal measure between traffic lights. Cars honked at each other and at pedestrians, other cars honked back and pedestrians gestured their meaning back at motorists. A cyclist buzzed past The Man in Black, a bell dinging loudly, forcing The Man to take a step backwards. This wouldn't do. Too many people in close proximity, someone was bound to get hurt. Already the people passing by him as he stood, gawking, were giving strange looks as they sensed the ambient heat coming off The Man in Black. He ducked back into the alley. He would have to get high in order to really understand where he had ended up.

 

The Man in Black restructured the heat around him to lower the pressure above and increase the pressure below, sending himself floating upwards to the roof of the building. He puffed his cigar some more as he strode towards the edge, facing North-East and took in the view.

 

From the roof of the tenement building the place looked very much like Manhattan Island. The buildings to the North seemed like mid-town while to the East it looked very much like the Financial District, with its enormous skyscrapers reaching into the blue. What was strange was that the bridges were on the West side of the island. The Man shrugged and directed his gaze upwards and directly across the street to a tall, drab, grey building with what appeared to be a spinning glob atop a plinth on the roof. A better vantage.

 

He folded the heat around himself, forcing photons to bounce around and past him rendering himself all but invisible as he repeated his pressure trick and floated silently and invisibly across the gap, up, up and away to the top of the building opposite him.

 

The Man in Black leaned over the edge of the building, puffing his cigar. The air smelled different, but then it always does when he visits other places. The traffic sounded the same, the buildings were more or less made of the same stuff. It smelled clean, no hint of Locals, even just faintly on the wind. Paragon City was rife with Locals, so it was a refreshing change. Maybe the Celestial War hadn't touched this place, he thought.

 

"Excuse me, sir?"

 

The Man in Black turned slowly in place, reaching up to take the cigar from his mouth. He let his hand drop by his side and the smoke coiled around his arm like a serpent as he took a long look at the man asking for his attention. He was tall, at least 6,4 and well built, but seemed to slouch a little, as though ashamed of his size. Dark suit, white shirt, blue tie, glasses, with thick, dark hair that appeared windswept but only slightly so, the only thing out of place was a coil that rested in the centre of his forehead.

 

The stranger ducked and wove slightly as he approached, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, sir, but... " He paused, opening his stance and showing his palms. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

 

The Man in Black nodded and showed his palms in return, grinning amiably. He had the cigar perched precariously between the first two fingers of his right hand as he turned to face the other man. "Yer quite right tae ask, mate. I beg yer pardon an' didnae mean tae cause a disturbance. I'm a... " he paused, trying to find the word "... a tourist. I'm afeared I've become a wee bit turned about."

 

"Oh!" Said the other man "Well, in that case I would be happy to help you get to where you need to go!" He made a snorting nose as he chuckled, pressing the bridge of his glasses "Ma used to tell me all the time 'If you're not where you're supposed to be, then you've got to just keep going.'"

 

The Man in Black nodded and his grin broadened into a genuine smile. He liked any man that honoured his mother, and he found he liked this man immediately. He jammed the cigar back between his molars.

 

"Name's Clark, by the way." said the man as he reached out his hand.

 

The Man in Black nodded, but stayed where he was a safe ten paces away. "A pleasure tae make yer acquaintance, Clark. Me mum called me Fergus, an' I thank ye fer yer welcome, truly." The other man's genial smile faded, soured and the expression on his face grew accepting as he withdrew his hand.

 

And then Clark stood up. His shoulders straightened and his jaw tensed slightly, his gaze settled squarely on The Man in Black.

 

"Who sent you?"

 

"Beg yer pardon, mate?"

 

Clark took off his glasses and took a pace. "I know you're not from here, Fergus. I don't know what you are or where you come from, but I do know that you are radiating heat that shouldn't be possible." His gaze lingered a while, taking in the Infernite woven, double-breasted flat black suit, the burnt orange shirt and black tie and finally came to rest on the burnt orange shades.

 

"I have a lot going on right now, stranger. Why don't you just tell me why you're here and maybe we can have a reasonable conversation about it. This place, this world, these people, they are incredibly important to me and I won't have them harmed. They are under my protection. So, for the last time, who sent you and what do they want?"

 

The Man in Black took a step backwards, his hands up. "I'm jes' passin' through, mate. I dinnae mean any harm. I'm from a place quite far from here, albeit quite similar in many respects. Where I'm from I'm considered a friend, a helper an' a teacher."

 

The other man opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a flash of light to the North. Both men turned their heads and gaped in horror as a ball of light and fire engulfed what must have been 6 city blocks. Rents opened in the sky through which poured all manner of horrors, slavering and screaming their bloodlust as they fell to the Earth on alien looking craft the likes of which Fergus had never seen.

 

He turned back to see Clark loosening his tie, having already shucked his jacket. "Oh, yeah? Well, do me a favour, Fergus."

 

"An' what's that, mate?"

 

Clark tore open his shirt, revealing a brilliant red 'S' in a gold diamond against a field of royal blue

 

"Prove it."

 

And with that, The Man of Steel took to the sky in a blur. Lightning scorched the sky and the heavens roared with thunder and The Legendary Living Hellfire followed, a trail of burnt orange flame in his wake.