Prologue (part one): Human Contracts and The coming War
The Contractors
Prologue 1: The human Contracts and The coming War
Kesha, or Ke$ha, as her fans know her, was tapping her foot annoyed, sitting at a local Denny’s. Her dirty blonde hair was straightened, and she hadn’t applied her glitter makeup. Despite this she had plans to go out clubbing tonight, but she had to meet up with a ‘friend’ first. “Why couldn’t he pick somewhere more dignified?”
“You aren’t a fan of Baconalia then?” asked a deep voice from behind the pop star.
A man in a jet-black suit walked up behind her, his blood-red tie standing out amongst the rest of his clothes. His hair was slicked back and gelled, and a black fedora and a pair of sunglasses adorned his face. “Where would you prefer to meet me in the future?”
“Since you’re paying, some upscale restaurant might be nice,” Kesha joked.
The man chuckled, though even that sounded deep and booming, like his voice was being filtered through a bass cranked up to eleven. “Well, I have your first assignment, so you should be happy.” He retorted, “Most are happy to get to the point where they could quit their contracts.”
Kesha laughed, “Why? My first five singles have all done awesome, you guys have done more for me than anything I can imagine!” The man sat across from her at the messy table, the waitress stopped in her tracks and walked back the other way. “If I lost my contract then I might not be as good, I don’t want that, you guys gave me all that I could be, my true potential, who in their right mind would give that up?”
A dour look crossed the man’s face as he whispered, “More people than you know.”
Kesha leaned in a little closer to the man, “So now that I’m a Contract, can I know your name?”
“You already know what to call me, I am Crossroads.”
“No, I mean your real name, not just what you told me to call you,” Kesha insisted.
Crossroads smiled out of the corner of his mouth, “You’ll probably never need to know who I really am, nor will you ever need to meet The Creator, who provides you with your power.”
The blonde pop star sighed and slumped back into her chair, “Alright, so what’s this mission that you want me to go on?”
The man in black pulled a small manila folder out of his jacket, “This is the world that it will take place on, as well as the enemy you are likely to face.”
Kesha opened the folder and scanned the papers. On one of them was a picture of a small town, rustic, with wooden houses with thatched roofs. Three places that stuck out to her were a seemingly life-sized gingerbread house, a similarly sized tree house, and a house made of clouds. The pop stars eyes widened at the picture, and the town it depicted.
“Equestria, inhabited by magical ponies, magic is common, and there are some of them that can fly as well,” Crossroads clarified. “It is unusual for us to have to intervene in their affairs, but the enemy that they will face soon is too strong for them to face alone.”
The pop star’s eyes were drawn to the other page, depicting a horrible monster. Its skin was grey, with the only spots of color being it’s green eyes, and yellowed teeth. Its torso is slim but its arms thick, with sharp three-inch long claws at the ends of each finger. “The fuck is this thing?” she asked.
“The Dagrathani, one of the largest alien races that we’ve ever had the poor luck of meeting.” Crossroads pulled another picture from his jacket, this one depicting a spaceship.
The ship barely looked functional, bunches of metallic plates were haphazardly riveted together, creating a cast-iron shell. The glass in the front was cracked from top to bottom, and the whole thing was in the shape of a giant rectangle, with no protrusions outside of the two engines on either side. The engines were also the only things that barely looked professional. Large cylinders straight from a sci-fi miniseries, plated with chrome and rather sparkling clean at that. The rest of the ship looked like a dumpster, but the engines looked spotless, with the exception of an omega symbol on both sides, etched in what looked like blood.
“They fly these things? Seriously?” Kesha asked incredulously.
“Yes, the average invasion force will see about 1000 ships like that, each carrying upwards of 5000 Dagrathani, salivating at the prospect of a new world to devour.” Crossroads pointed to the broken windows and riveted shell, “They don’t require any real repair since they can make these things daily, not mention the beasts themselves don’t need to breathe…”
“Wait!” shouted Kesha, before lowering her volume, realizing they were in public. “They don’t breathe? What else don’t they do?”
“Smell,” the man in black responded dryly, “they don’t have noses, so they don’t smell either, keep this in mind as occasionally the best option for a Dagrathani attack is to run.”
“They don’t look… too threatening,” Kesha mumbled.
Crossroads responded with a chuckle, “Since this is your first mission I understand that you don’t really have a lot to compare them to, but trust me, there are seasoned veterans that have nightmares about a Dagrathani assault, it’s only through mine and The Creator’s presence that they don’t attack Earth.”
The pop star shirked back in her chair, “Geez, no pressure huh?” She gulped back the fear, and straightened her dress out nervously. “So who am I teaming with? This isn’t a one person job right?”
“No of course not,” Crossroads responded, “I’m looking into who will be your partners, only one of them is a guarantee, his name is Entropy.”
Kesha giggled, “Some underground metal artist I’ve never heard of then?”
“No,” the man in black responded. “He isn’t famous, just a normal guy.”
“Oh, okay then,” Kesha responded, “So where do I need to be, and when?”
“Forest River park, Salem Massachusetts, tomorrow, if you need help with transportation…”
“No, I’m good,” Kesha, responded quickly, an excited tone creeping into her voice. “I’ll be there nice and early.”
Crossroads stood to leave, “Good, now just to wrangle you a third teammate…” As soon as he walked through the door he was gone, vanished.
Crossroads took a moment to adjust his outfit, plenty of time in the ‘space between spaces’ after all. He took a small note out of his pocket; on it was a list of names, names of contracts. A shadowy tendril etched a checkmark next to the name ‘Kesha’. The only other checkmark on the list was ‘Entropy’, as his natural magical affinity would be helpful in a place like Equestria. His eyes drifted to a name, ‘Speaker’, which The Creator had insisted to include, just in case he decided to reenlist.
Crossroads knew better, but figured that he would take the chance to see his old friend one more time, before severing the connection completely. “He has a family, and one of the most important jobs on the planet now, obviously he won’t keep risking his life like he used to.” The man in black focused on his new destination, The White House, “Doesn’t mean that I can’t say hello, before I meet up with Firespitter.”
Nicki Minaj, world-famous pop star/rapper, wandered back and forth across the impromptu backstage of the Marriot that she just finished performing in, a phone pressed to her head. “So, the concert went well?” asked the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Well, as well as you can expect, yeah,” the pink-haired rapper responded. “I’m hoping for a better turn-out next time, or maybe I’ll hope for a better tour when the next album drops.” Minaj sighed as she looked over a notepad with her latest musings written on it, “Rap isn’t easy, specially when your biggest single, the one that the public loved you for, was a sugary dance number.” The pink-haired rapper sighed as she flipped the pages of the notebook, revealing other attempts at new songs.
“Miss Minaj, someone is here to see you,” an assistant called from the door.
“I’m on the phone right now, tell the reporters to wait,” Nicki responded with an agitated tone.
“He said to call you Firespitter, said that would mean something.”
She paused momentarily, “Drake, let me call you back later,” Minaj said quickly.
“Sure,” Drake responded through the phone, “see you later.”
“Send him in,” the rapper said softly.
Crossroads walked into the backstage area, his eyes fell upon the notepad of raps on the desk. He looked back to Minaj who gave him a nod; he picked the notepad up and began silently reading. He stood there, making no noise, nor ay visual indication of his enjoyment or lack thereof.
“It ain’t good is it?” Minaj asked.
“I think it’s very heartfelt, a little work and you can probably sell it, then again I’m not exactly familiar with the art of rap.” Crossroads handed the notepad back to Minaj, “I’m going to assume that you don’t want to come back to the Contractors?” Minaj shook her head, “Are you sure Firespitter, I would be willing to lower the minimum mission count…”
Nicki Minaj put her hand against his mouth, “I don’t want special treatment, besides, I want to grow back into the person that my fans fell in love with before I was really famous, I want to earn my potential.”
Crossroads smiled, “Alright, then I won’t come back, and I’ll…”
“Wait!” Minaj interrupted, “I’m not rejoining, but you can at least tell me the mission, and where.”
The man in black’s smile grew, “Equestria.”
“Nice place,” the pink haired rapper complimented, “Ponyville especially, good DJ too.”
“The enemy, it’s the Dagrathani.”
Minaj grew wide-eyed, “Invasion force?”
“Recon, as far as we can tell, we’re hoping that it’s a lost force, we can send our people in, take out the Dagrathani, get out, none the wiser.”
Minaj slumped into the chair at her desk; she stroked her chin and tapped her nails against the wooden desk. “Who you got so far?”
“Entropy, and Kesha,” responded Crossroads.
“So you need a tank, so to speak?” Minaj questioned. Crossroads nodded, she tapped her nails against the desk some more. He handed her the note with the names, she scanned the paper, before handing the paper back to Crossroads. “Shady, only choice, if you can sign him that is.”
The man in black put the paper in his pocket. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t think getting him to come will be the problem, it will be to make him play nice.”
Eminem had just finished a performance when he got a text that simple read, “Mission, outside.” He leaned up against the wall of the building, rain pooling around his sneakers, and dampening his grey hoodie. He shoved the phone into the blue jeans, torn at the knees. The rapper readjusted his simple black T-shirt and pulled his hoodie further over his short blonde hair.
“Lovely weather, is it not?” called Crossroads sarcastically.
“Yeah, fuck you too,” Eminem, responded.
“Marshall, such language,” Crossroads sarcastically retorted. “I thought that you’d be happy to know that we have a new mission for you, I thought that you’d want to get your requirements out of the way now, is that not the case?”
Marshal barely suppressed a growl. When forming a contract with Crossroads, you are given all of your potential, every ounce of creativity, intelligence, power, and raw talent that you could ever possess. It was up to you how to use it, but obviously you weren’t getting it for free. In return you have to complete a minimum of three missions for him and The Creator, after that you may quit, if you want to. If you do quit, or if you pass up too many missions, than they take all of that talent away, and you go right back to where you started, losing even what you obtained since that day.
Eminem had let it go too quickly. Or at least that’s what he told himself, after hearing from his critics, and most depressingly his fans, what an unmitigated disaster the album Encore was. He decided to Re-Contract with Crossroads, which meant that he had another three missions minimum to complete before he wasn’t stuck with no choice but to do what The Creator asked of him.
“Alright, where am I going, and with whom?” Marshall asked.
“A little planet called Equestria, magical ponies are the native species there, and it’s going to be attacked by the Dagrathani,” Crossroads responded grimly.
This caused a smile to grace Eminem’s lips, “Sounds good, I could use a nice action scene to get my blood pumping again.”
Crossroads smirked, “Always the bloodthirsty one, well that’s good, both of your teammates are more magic-based, your super-strength will be helpful.”
Eminem smiled as he clenched and unclenched his fists. As a bonus to getting their True Potential, as Crossroads called it, unlocked, a Contract also gained powers that they could use in a magic-rich environment. For Slim Shady that gift was super-strength and endurance, simple, effective, bloody; just the way he liked it. “So,” the rapper continued, “where am I going and when?”
“Salem,” his boss replied, “and now if possible.”
“Sure, I want to meet the team, and I want to be punching Dagrathani in the jaw as soon as possible.”
Crossroads shrugged and grabbed Eminem by the collar, and the two of them moved through space and time, all the way to Salem Massachusetts.
Crossroads awoke early the next day in order to send the group off to Equestria, he would need to make sure that they were prepared as well. Once he arrived he saw Eminem and Kesha already awake and eating breakfast at the local hotel that their bosses had booked. Both were also drinking from their own personal bottle of whiskey.
One glance at the table showed one member of the team was missing however. “Have either of you seen Entropy?” he asked.
Kesha took another swig of Jack Daniels before responding, “Nope.” Eminem just shrugged and went back to his breakfast. The doors that Crossroads had just entered through swung open once again, “Speak of the Devil,” Kesha joked, “at least I assume that’s him.”
“Entropy!” Crossroads greeted the newcomer, “you’re here.”
Entropy was a white male who looked to be in his twenties. He was dressed in simple black jeans with a Hard Rock Café T-shirt from Bengalaru. He wore Aviator shades, and baseball cap with the logo of the Boston Red Sox on it. He walked in the room, stopping at Crossroads, “When do we leave, I want to get a feel for this place.”
“Firstly,” countered Crossroads, “we need to make sure that the three of you understand each others role, so we’ll need to go to a little magic room I’ve set up, so that you all can show-off.”
He led the three to a small section of the forest nearby, one where several boulders were set up. Eminem smirked and cracked his knuckles as he approached one of the large rocks. Marshall dramatically wound up his fist, before punching the boulder, smashing it into numerous tiny pieces. “Marshall Mathers, Eminem, super-strength.”
Crossroads clapped his hands together, “Bravi, Bravi, now then I want you to throw a few of those towards Kesha, and Kesha, please dodge them.”
Kesha calmed herself, she let her mind wander, and she focused on Marshall. ‘Left, left, right, left,’ she heard his mind say. Eminem threw the rocks in the areas that she knew he would, and so she dodged each one in turn. “Kesha, telepath.” Marshall kicked another rock towards her, which she grabbed in her hand. “I hear other people’s thoughts. All of them.”
Eminem looked at Entropy, who was simply leaning up against a tree, and seemed to not be looking or care at the other two’s powers. “Hey!” he yelled, “you paying attention over here?” Still Entropy remained silent, Eminem gritted his teeth and started stomping towards Entropy. “Hey! Are you listen…” Entropy grabbed the rapper who began to feel weaker. Eminem started to feel drained, as though his power was beginning to leave him. Entropy, still grasping Eminem, summoned up two spears of pure energy, and hurled them at two of the boulders.
“They call me Entropy, my power is called siphon. I can siphon and store magic from a source, and use it myself.” He let go of Eminem, who got up and began menacing Entropy.
“You know, you could have used Crossroads, or warned me about what you were doing,” Eminem said angrily.
Crossroads stepped between the two, “Alright, now that the three of you are familiar with your various power sets, it’s time for the three of you to head into Equestria.” He waved his hand and a large white door with the symbol of a sun in the center sprouted from the ground. “Once there you should meet with a zebra named Zecora, she’s your contact on the other side, she should be located in the forest that you’ll end up in.”
Entropy spoke up, “So it’s the three of us against a reconnaissance force?”
Crossroads spoke quietly, “That’s what we hope,” he spoke up again, “Alright, go, you have a world to protect.”
Kesha, Eminem, and Entropy all began funneling themselves towards the door, Crossroads prepared to leave, as he heard Kesha speak up. “So, Entropy, why did you become a Contract, I mean, you aren’t famous or anything, so why do all of this?” Crossroads stepped into the space between spaces as Entropy responded.
“He talked me off of a bridge, that’s why.”
Crossroads stepped back into the physical world, more specifically in a small living room. “Miss, I’ve come to report,” he shouted. He stepped further inside, noticing art materials scattered across a dining room table. “I see that you’ve been working.”
“Oh, sorry Crossroads I didn’t hear you come in,” called a female voice from the other room. “Please, come on in.”
“I’m already inside,” he mumbled, “So madam, would you like to hear about the three that I’ve sent over to Equestria, they just left, I thought that you’d like a report.”
He stepped into the office of the leader of the Contractors, The Creator, she looked to all the world like a normal human female, with long red hair streaming down her back. But in truth she was one of the most feared beings in the universe, known for having an absurd amount of power, and Crossroads at her command. “Who did you send?”
“Kesha, a telepath, Eminem, a powerhouse, Entropy, the Siphon.” Crossroads readjusted his tie, “I was thinking of going there myself, seeing if perhaps I could help them out, perhaps there would be somepony there that could become a Contract.”
The Creator swiveled around to face Crossroads, “As much as I’ve wanted to keep such a peaceful place out of this organization, but if you find somepony that could be a good Contract… you have my permission to sign them.”
Crossroads began to slip into the space between spaces once again, “Of course, just one pony, it will have to be somepony strong enough to fight without any training.”
