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[Fic] Mommas Boy [complete]

Corbin Black

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[A few weeks before the start of the game on Route 88, several hours after defeating Amaron, the giant]

Corbin sped down old route 88. The Harley he rode roared like they all do, loud and proud. The wind caught his hair and whipped it about in a shadowy dance of darkened tendrils barely able to keep their hold upon him. Kicked back, with his arms up on the bars and his feet propped up comfortably, The Scion of War and Chaos basked in the freedom of the bright noonday sun across the barren desert of the Superstition Mountains.

He turned his head to the side and spit out a bloody tooth, the remains of what had shattered as his Godbody rejuvenated the tooth from the root and pushed the broken out to be discarded. His mind returned to the battle with Amaron if Atlas, an earth giant spawned from the mighty Titan Atlas himself. Amaron was only newly awakened, still weak from his eternity of slumbering with the titan’s prison. The giant had barely rolled out of bed and had time to take a leak and it was powerful enough to nearly destroy Corbin in a few punches.

So this is the Titan’s power? The Scion thought as the roar of the engine became nearly enough to enter him into a meditation and self-reflection on how he could improve his technique or analyze exactly what he did wrong that allowed the giant any advantage.

The flashing blue lights behind him quickly snapped him from his Easy Rider reverie and the dusty black leather clad rider pulled his bike over with a bored sigh and a lazy roll of the eyes.

He rummaged about in the bikes satchel faking to be searching for his license and insurance information while wondering exactly how long he should let the officer speak before knocking him out and stuffing him back into his cruiser. He didn’t have time for some overweight, ain’t-shaved-in-days, unwashed bumpkin of a law enforcement officer holding him up over something like doing ninety seven in a seventy on a stretch of road that hasn’t seen traffic on it in years since today.

“You know why I stopped you?” Came the officers voice over his shoulder as he heard the boots crunch on the gravel beside him. A woman’s voice, intoxicating and seductive lured his head about to look upon his pursuer. Her figure was simply perfect from the knee high polished black boots to the skin tight, nearly reflective, black leather pants that hugged her hips in a sort of way that almost dared someone to touch. Tucked in was her bright blue cotton officer’s uniform, unbuttoned enough to tease the eye of Atum-Re that gazed down upon them high in the sky. Large mirrored shades reflected Corbin’s rather stunned expression as the bill of her uniforms hat shaded half her face and rested upon long straight black hair that seemed spun from shadowed silk.

Her glossy black lips smirked at him.

“Very funny.” Corbin found it hard to take his eyes off her, but managed an irritated grin nonetheless. “Okay, you got me. I was getting ready knock you out and stuff you back in your car.”

The woman chuckled. “You’re welcome to try, we both know how well it worked the last time.” Her rich Irish accent carried on the wind in this desert wasteland. “How did you fare against Amaron?” She asked.

The Scion dismounted and stretched his legs. A few scrapes and bruises had yet to heal but he’d be fine soon enough. “Amaron is defeated, Mother, but it was an empty victory. I made too many mistakes, stupid ones. It’s luck that I survived.” With those words he gave his ‘mother’ an almost accusatory glare.

“Don’t look at me like that Corbin,” She raised a hand in protest of where his line of though was heading. “I’m the Goddess of War, not victory. You’re battles are your own, My Son, and now…”

She approached him, smiling like a mother who was proud of her son and brushing the hair from his face with her soft tender hands so she look upon her handsome adopted Scion to deliver her message face to face with him. “…I have another task for you.”

“Anything, mother.” Corbin replied with ironclad resolve. “Name it and it will be done.”

Gently her black lips pressed against his forehead. The young man inhaled and proudly accepted his mother’s adoration of his current deeds. He was still in her favor and in truth it was all that really mattered to him these days. The fight, the victory, and the continued motherly love that as growing young man he never received. He was a ‘knight’ of the Gods themselves… this was his destiny. “You will travel to Boston. There is a large gathering of Scions there. Meet with them, learn from them, guide and protect them for they our only hope in winning this war. You are my Champion, and this is my will.”

The dark man’s head lowered humbly at her words. “Your will be done. In your name and for all the Tuatha, I shall protect these Scions with the very last of my breath.”

“I know. Which is why I chose you for this task, despite being adopted, your determination knows no bounds. I look forward to seeing how well you handle this task.” With that she turned about face and started walking back to her patrol car.

“Mother, wait…” He let his immaturity show a bit as he reached out his hand grasping at empty air as the only woman to ever show him any kindness and love in his life walked away from him. “Please, I’m curious.”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder a bit puzzled. “What is it?” She asked.

“You accepted the offering of Amaron’s heart, you knew I had won.” He brushed his hair back behind his ears so his handsome, if not a bit rugged looking, face was visible, something he did only in the presence of his mother. “Why did you ask me how I fared against him? I was the victor, isn’t that all that matters?”

She grinned but it was empty. A sad grin that told the tale of how she saw through his hardened exterior and into his young, immature heart. “Yes Corbin, I knew. But I wanted to hear how you put your victory. You’re humble, honorable, and for your age, very noble. But you’ve never known defeat, and until you do, you’ll never be able to unlock your full potential.”

“But… this is a war.” He protested. “War is about winning, why would I ever want to lose?”

“War is not about winning Corbin.” She continued her walk to her car. “War is simply chaos and death. To understand victory however, you must understand what it’s like to be the vanquished.”

There was a rustle of feathers and her perfect curves melted away into an unkindness of ravens that all cawed loudly as they broke off in their own directions.

“I don’t lose.” He stated firmly, looking up to the heavens. Without another word he mounted his Harley Davidson and Corbin Black, the Son of The Morrigan, slayer of Amaron of Atlas, Scion of War and Chaos, made his way to Boston.

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