Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

such a short time ago, had disappeared now, replaced by a strong, muscular figure in the prime of his years. Jack Random had re-created himself, through his faith and his power and his courage, and the mysterious powers of the Madness Maze, to be a hero and a legend one more time. Just standing there, calm and relaxed, he looked ready to take on the whole damned Empire by himself.

    And if there were blood and savagery and slaughter of the foe along the way, that suited him just fine.
    Close by his side, looking as though she belonged there and always had, Ruby Journey. She wore black leathers under white furs, and was as dauntingly attractive as the kind of flower whose pollen provides uneasy dreams. Just standing there, she looked dangerous as hell and damned pleased about it. Unlike the others who'd passed through the Madness Maze, Ruby Journey hadn't really changed much at all. It just… refined her. As a bounty hunter, she'd mostly brought her victims in dead rather than alive, because it meant less paperwork.
    She sought out fights and battles and the most dangerous bounties, just to prove she was as nasty as everyone said she was. As a rebel, she'd just increased the size of her enemy. It was still all down to mayhem and looting, as far as she was concerned. She saw great opportunities for financial improvement in the chaos on Golgotha, and didn't intend to let herself be distracted by unimportant things like politics. Random could deal with things like that. He understood them.
    Alexander Storm, that old and tired man, had been a part of the rebellion most of his life. As a young man he'd fought at Jack's side in battles beyond counting. Once a brilliant swordsman and a laughing adventurer, a hero almost as famous as Random, he was now weighed down with age and bitterness, and concentrated his remaining energies in helping to determine the underground's policies and strategies. And if he was jealous that his old friend Jack had somehow grown young and vital again, and he had not, he kept it to himself.
    Mostly.
    And finally, there were Young Jack Random and Psycho Jenny. They stood together some distance away from the others, because no one else would stand next to
    them. And even they did their best to ignore each other. Young Jack had arrived on the scene out of nowhere, claiming to be the real professional rebel, and it had to be said he looked the part. Tall and powerful in his silver battle armor chased with gold, he positively radiated strength and wisdom, and his charisma almost outshone the overhead lights. Every inch the hero, people followed him almost instinctively, even into the most impossible of situations. Unbeatable with a sword in his hand, he charged barricades and mounted daring rescues with verve and courage and a constant dazzling smile. Already he was being hailed as the savior of Mistport during the invasion, as though he'd single-handedly turned back the Empire's invasion forces. Owen and Hazel could have told a different story, had they chosen, but they kept their peace. The rebellion needed its heroes to inspire the masses.
    It still wasn't clear which of the two Randoms was the real one. They were both powerful fighters and cunning strategists. So the underground, expedient as ever, made use of both of them.
    Jenny Psycho was a different matter. The Empire had broken something deep inside her, and it had healed crookedly. But then she was touched by the enigmatic uber-esper, Mater Mundi, and now Jenny Psycho was very powerful indeed. Her presence all but crackled on the air around her, like a thunderstorm waiting to happen. She lived only for revenge, relying on the rebellion to give her focus and purpose. She'd had another name once, and another life, but that seemed a long time ago, and most of the time she barely remembered the minor esper called Diana Vertue.
    Owen Deathstalker looked about him unobtrusively, studying his companions thoughtfully. It seemed they'd all changed dramatically in the short time they'd
    been apart. Jack Random looked thirty years younger, and tough enough to chew up tin cans and spit nails. He looked a lot more like Young Jack, but there was still a clear difference. There was something almost inhuman about Young Jack's unwavering heroism, as though he was really a character from some holoaction drama, stepped out of the viewscreen and into reality with his charisma intact.
    Unlike his previously older self. Young Jack came across as though he'd never