The Power Stone World

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A Fanfic by Dragon XVI/Trace Kyshad. I'm a bit rusty...

Ahr Me hearties! Power Stone and Power Stone 2 and all related characters are (c) CAPCOM. This fic is rated as PG-13 (Or to be my Scottish self, a 12) because of my usual take of language and, for those who know the game, some violence too.



EPILOGUE

Consider for the moment, out of all the vast number of Universes, Worlds, and Dimensions that dominate your imagination, you could perhaps change the world to that of your own taking. Perhaps leave the constant cry from society and get yourself stuck into a world with characters you wish you could meet, fight, chat etc. Where exactly would you take yourself?

For me... Power Stone. Odd, that I should choose something so violent, where heros would challenge each other to battle for the ultimate treasure. Alas, to be fair, the idea of Edward Falcon setting forth in the Hockenheim in search of legends and myths and treasures untold is something that's always appealed to me. One man and his Ayame obsession as yet another friend falls victim to the Cherry Blossom Dance, followed by a resounding "KO!" and then "This sucks, I wanna play Crazy Taxi!" - Ingrates.

So, dear reader, you are about to embark on a journey if one simple student such as me found himself in the Power Stone world. Take Joe Person and put him in a world where anything can be picked up and/or thrown in a great battle to find the ultimate prize. Although to be fair, this story will probably more be set on the Power Stone Anime side of things... Which if you are a fan and have yet to see, I'd advise you find yourself a working DVD player and track down the 6 volumes...

...They're worth it, every second!

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The Power Stones were legend. Fabled. Myths. Nobody really believed in them, until a man by the name of Valgas showed up.

As it transpired, the Stones were very real, and indeed seemed to hold great power. Urban legend brought forth the idea that such a powerful Stone could grant the holder any wish they wanted. As this grew, the popularity of the legend became that of obsession, and millions of people from around the world searched and searched for even the slightest hint of Power Stone.

They found nothing.

Valgas, meanwhile, had already become a great fighter, known to the world. He was always willing to try something to raise his ever-growing reputation in some personal fascination to become an idol to pretty much every man, woman and child on the planet. Thus, when sombody suggested he go in search of the legendary Power Stone, he was on the hunt quicker than you could say "A.". In one of his big championship fights, Valgas used the power of a recently discovered Power Stone to transform himself into a supreme warrior version of himself. The opposition didn't stand a chance.

With this demonstration of power, the great rush began. People back in the 19th century were very supersticious of such legends, and so of the millions of treasure hunters, only a select few even came close to tracking down the exact location of the Ultimate Stone that would grant the wish. By now you should know who those people are and why they are hunting it. If not, you're reading the wrong Fanfic.

From a Ninja, to a Pilot, to a Samurai and a Fortune teller, these were the ones who had any chance of finding the Stone. Not to mention, the only ones who knew how the Power Stones worked... And when they worked, you'd better be sure you're not on the recieving end.



Chapter 1 : The Samurai Guy



Expecting the usual blaring roar of music from the alarm clock that tore him from his bed each morning, Trace Kyshad awoke and through routine walked over to what he thought was the alarm clock. As it turned out, it was in fact a palm tree.

"The bloody hell's this?" Half asleep and without the aid of caffeine, Trace didn't really question the existence of a palm tree in the middle of his bedroom. Nor the grass, the wind, and the fact his bed was a small pile of rocks. "I don't remember getting this pissed... The hell am I?"

Thankfully he found himself wearing his usual black, baggy jeans which hid his choice of shoes. What shoes? "Some bugger's stolen me bloody shoes!" Not trained in the skills to deal with the lack of footwear, he braved the long grass beneath and, straightening his tastless black skull shirt, ventured toward what looked like a sign of civillisation.

Then, he ran into a problem.

"Hold it right there!" Came a very strong yet familiar voice, emerging from the thick long grass behind him. Yet Trace had a hard time putting a face to it. After conceding to figure it out, turned around to face who had stopped him in his tracks (Well, if he had shoes). Standing slightly taller than six feet high, with what appeared to be some sort of Japanese sword held ready to attack, dressed in blue. A Samurai. THE Samurai. "I am Ryoma, and your presense on this land is that of a CHALLENGE!" he blared the final word as he lunged forward to strike.

Given the circumstaces, Trace would have found the idea of standing before a videogame character whom was prepared to slice him to bits a tad odd and worrying. And he did. So much so, in his deep thought of what was going on, he forgot about the impending sword that was about to strike his arm, and without so much as a blink to evade it, fell to the floor in pain. "AAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Was the reply to Ryoma's 'challenge'. In Trace's mind, he would have said something like "I accept your challenge, now prepare to die!" followed by a repeat thrashing of the B button, but this was no longer a game.

"You're no worthy challenge." Ryoma, stating the obvious. "You have no place here, get lost!"

"Mind... Telling me... Exactly... Where here is... Ryoma?" Trace struggled to his feet, still clutching the wound, luckily only a small cut but still nothing to be proud of. "I mean... I wasn't... Here... Yesterday..."

He was met with a confused stare. How did this stranger know his name? Surely he wasn't that popular... He had only just reached this continent in search of challenges, stopping by the training grounds of his previous master and then spying this young teenager in the fields outside. Was he an assassin? Hardly. But then, what was his purpose here?

"Power Stone right? That game with... Er..." Suddenly the idea of telling someone they only exist on the Sega Dreamcast seemed not the best way to address a Samurai who had almost taken one of his Limbs. Trace refined his reply, but wasn't given the time to speak.

"You know of the Power Stones?" Ryoma spoke, slight worry in his voice now, but more of determination.

"I know you need three of them to transform into a super form of yourself and unleash great power upon your enemies." Trace rattled on a machine-gun pace, as if he had been told to recite that many times. Ryoma stood puzzled. "Interesting" He replied.

"But you don't seem like one of the other warriors I've faced."

"That's because I just got here... And I've never used a Power Stone in my life..." He paused, thinking of something that could be of use to say "But about these warriors... I bet I know more than you about them."

"You know of the others?" Ryoma seemed intrieged now.

"The name 'Edward Falcon' ring any bells?" Trace uttered, as suave as possible.

Just the mention of the name sent Ryoma into overdrive with glee. If there was one thing Trace was sure of, it was that there can be no harm with making friends with a Samurai. Sure beats getting your arm sliced off. Either way, things were starting to make a bit more sense now, but quite how Trace got in the world of his Dreamcast game was still a mystery to him. Still, best enjoy it while he could... Think of it like a really realistic dream.

"You'll find him in Londo" Trace recalled. It's like London, only missing the 'N' and keeps reminding me of that guy from Babylon 5.

"Good, that's where I'm headed" Ryoma grinned. "If it's no trouble, I wouldn't mind hearing more of these other warriors... Y'see, I'm trying to track down honourable challenges to test m-"

"Yeah yeah Test you skill become the ultimate warrior etc etc." Trace shunned it off. "I know all that."

"But... How?"

"Errr. Kinda hard to explain, I think it's best if you just take my word for it right now." Trace, again still wondering how he entered this bizzare world.

"Very well then." Ryoma grumbled, but nodded. He began to walk towards the small city on the horizon of the hills and fields Trace could just make out against the rising sun. Following the Samurai along, he wondered just exactly what he would discover in the town of Londo. If memory served, there'd be a battle... Transformations... The works. The whole idea seemed exciting if not strange, but Trace had watched this from the safety of his chair many times, and despite his fish-out-of-water feeling, still felt like he knew the whole world like the back of his hand. At least the one without the blood from the sword cut all over it.

He began to wonder exactly what he would witness after the battle at Londo. Thinking further afield. Was he to journey around the entire world? In search of the legendary Stone? He already knew the location's name... But how exactly was one to get there? And Valgas would surely beat him to a pulp if he did. Far better just to tag along for now and watch the odd fight... Plus, there was the added bonus of getting to meet Ayame, whom he practically worshipped. The whole thing seemed great and at the same time really disturbing. But right now his mind was on exactly what to strategy to deliver to Ryoma. There wasn't much hope in saying "Well, simply thrash the Y and B buttons" over "Watch out for his double jump" and getting it sounding like it made any decent sense.

"So." Ryoma broke his thought. "What can you tell me of Falcon?"