Here It Goes Again/Rewrite

Here It Goes Again is the first episode of Sol 101. It is written by Sol, obviously.
==Bookmark==
==Summary==
Jules boots up another iteration of Sol.
==Plot==
So, here we are again. 
Last time didn't work, plain and simple.
You know, back when you really wanted to be a writer, and weren't honor-bound to continue this silly pact with the karmic forces of good in the universe, you were always told it's a fundamental role of storytelling that the author should always avoid starting off an exposition dump. You know, it's boring, and you really should start in medias res instead.
But this isn't that type of story, you know?
Believe me, getting into the action would be great. But you really don't think there's a better way to start it off.
You can't just start with the end of the universe. You have to explain WHY it's the end of the universe. 
Hello world.
Or, what's left of it, anyways.
The apocalypse has kind of already happened, and now the day of reckoning is upon us. You reckon that you and the rest of the universe are kind of fucked.
An old "friend" of yours ended up taking a dip in the deep end and, after a few time traveling shenanigans across multiple timelines (some of them your own), adopted the moniker "Crimelord Direhart".
Most people in the universe wouldn't really care about this, but your "employers", from the City of Lore - basically an elite social club for people who think they're too good to die here on our plane of existence - wanted him stopped, and so they started bothering him. A lot.
Direhart got tired of this whole pestering schtick, and like how the American revolutionaries got tired of being taxed, decided to start a war. Although, unlike the Americans, Direhart couldn't just declare himself independent.
You see, the City of Lore tries to govern the whole universe. You can't exactly declare independence from reality, at least not effectively and sanely, so Direhart is trying to overthrow the City and institute his own form of government - whatever that may be and for however long he so chooses - upon all of the universe.
It's not a crazy idea, really. The City of Lore is more of a Controlling Cunt Convention than a benevolent, efficient government. You might have sided with Crimelord Direhart, but he is also kind of a douchebag, and besides, the City of Lore "adopted" you and your sweetheart into their ranks. You had already kind of been a galactic hero once, and now you've been called on to stop another universal crisis, and... Well, you kind of threw a hissy-fit, because the City of Lore isn't a very good employer.
That hissy-fit you threw might have doomed all of reality. You accidentally discharged the ultimate weapon prematurely and in the wrong direction. 
Okay, maybe it wasn't an accident, and maybe you fired that weapon at one of Lore's politicians.
As "punishment", you're down here on Earth instead of up there with the rest of the war heroes. You know the whereabouts of the Omnitrix, and Direhart wants his hands upon it, so you're a pretty huge target now. Of course, because you know all about Crimelord Direhart as well as a lot about yourself, you're a pretty big asset, too. Don't forget that.
----
Those words on the monitor stare back at you, burning deep into your soul.
You're here again. Whatever iteration of the "Sol" program the last version of you tried to compile must have either backfired or just led to a dead end. You're hoping the latter, you really don't want to clean up after yourself. You hear that guy's a real asshole.
You still seem kind of confused, so you figure you'll spell it out for yourself. Some other iteration of you created a new version of Sol. It failed to meet specifications. It crashed and burned. The timeline was scrapped. The universe is still in danger. And here you are, back at square one.
You're going to be going through this cycle, again and again, until you can finally get a version of Sol that will save the universe. You have all the time in the universe you could ever need, though... Based on the intensity of your nightmares, you think that time is running out.
Okay, yeah, let me explain to you, just in case you've gotten amnesia. If you have, the universe is probably doomed already, but no big deal. We'll just scrap this timeline and start again, right?
You apply pressure to the backspace button to delete the text on the screen and begin to type anew, for what must be the hundred-and-first time.
From the top.
Your name is Jules.
If you don't remember it, you're lucky, but you just kind of committed a major crime that offended those on a higher plane of existence (aka, the City of Lore). That crime got you kicked out of that higher plane of existence, and now you're back here, on this post-apocalyptic hellscape planet Earth (more specifically, in the city of Paris). You're without the Omnitrix, but you managed to smuggle out your trusty Velvet Revolver, though you probably shouldn't let anyone know you have it until your hope is down to the wire.
You see, high above the sky, up in orbit, an old friend of yours is trying to kill you. His name? Crimelord Direhart.
If the sky is quiet, that means one of two things:
Congrats! You won! Or, more accurately, a previous iteration of you did. But that brings up the question, why are you still here on Earth in the city of Paris, instead of on a Higher Plane in the city of Lore? You should logically have been rewarded and ascended. Time to make a few phone calls.
But that's probably not what happened. Not that you'd be denied ascension from the City of Lore - no, that's incredibly likely to happen. They're assholes. The unlikely aspect is that you won.
The other, much more likely outcome is that... Well, you're completely and utterly fucked. Whatever "good", "resisted", or "allied" forces - whatever the hell you want to call the forces that are supposed to be defending you and all that you and the City of Lore stand for - were either defeated in a matter of minutes or just didn't show.
But stay positive!
The universe is only in danger of ending.
If you manage to arrange the correct sequence of events withinthe timeline of a young boy named Alexander Ezra, 
Thank god, that exposition dump is over.
You don't know why you wrote all of that down in the first place, though. What, are you prepping in case of your own amnesia? What are the chances that you'll even get amnesia? You'll probably die before you develop even the earliest signs of Parkinson's at this rate.
In fact, this is probably more of a risk. What if some troublemaker out there finds this? You don't want him to know about the intricacies of the plan to take down Crimelord Direhart.
So, hopefully you have a better idea of who you are now. Not trying to be a burden here, but... You've kind of got to get to work saving the universe.
Best boot up the next version of Sol.
SOL 101 LOGO HERE
SKAIAN SHRAPNEL HERE?
 PRESS ANY KEY TO INITIATE START-UP...
 
 BOOTUP MENU: 
   CONTINUE
   >NEW TIMELINE 
 
 NEW TIMELINE SELECTED. 
 
 PLEASE ENTER YOUR USERNAME. JULES
 
 PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD. hunter2
 
 WELCOME, BACK JULES.
 
 ...
 
 SYSTEMS ON STANDBY.
 
 ...
 
 PRESSING MATTERS TO ATTEND TO BEFORE NEW TIMELINE CAN BEGIN.
 
 
 ...
 
 
 ...
 
 
 
 SWITCHING TO UNREGISTERED ASTROCAM 3
Okay, so maybe the message left for you at the start had some merit to it. You really can't start a good story - even if the story is an idiot's guide to saving the universe - without a bit of action.
You got through all of that exposition, and now you deserve to enjoy a bit of action...
You probably shouldn't enjoy it too much. If the forces of "good" do end up failing here and disrupting the Sol program start-up loop, then you're no better than a fish out of water.
The monitor before you jumps to life, as do... all of the monitors next to it. There's a whole wall of monitors.
Unfortunately, all of the monitors seem to be... Black. Probably because they're getting fed footage by astrocams, and in space, there's usually a whole lot of dark nothing. Except... There definitely shouldn't be, right now. Not if there's a whole intergalactic space battle happening in Earth's orbit.
The images on the monitors begin to refocus themselves. Thank the heavens. You can now make out tens of thousands of space ships, all huddled together. Thanks to your extensive training in astronautics, you can easily tell which ships are on your side and which ships are against yours: the ones facing away from the Earth are on defense, and the ones facing towards the Earth are trying to kill you. It's like an intergalactic soccer match, with a penalty kick, but if the offending team makes the shot, everybody here dies.
It's definitely high stakes for a sports game. You should probably work on your analogies more, but hell, this ain't the time for that. Now is the time for action.
The wall of computers in front of you spits out a little joystick, wire attached. It thumps onto a bunch of papers that probably aren't really relevant anymore, at least not to you, but thankfully, they were there to cushion the blow. 
You lean down and pull the joystick up. You know how to handle it; you've done this tens of times before. As you twist the joystick in your hands, a small little cursor on the screen appears. You let it glide across the battalion of battleships until it rests upon one that appears to have been recently rammed and boarded. Yep, that seems to be the place of interest. You hit a button on the joystick and the camera recalibrates, switching to another viewpoint inside of the ship. Even if you might die in a few minutes, maybe hours if you're lucky, you have to admit that living in the future really has its perks.
Oh, you thought this joystick was going to actually control a ship? No, don't be silly. This is just an Unregistered AstroCam 3. You can't use it interact with anything in your own timeline. That would be way too overpowered and there wouldn't be any tension, would there?
----
You know from your own personal run-ins with him that he is referred to as the Lord of Edge, or more appropriately, "Edgelord". He didn't earn that title due to his looks and methods being rather 'edgy', as in, the early 21st century social and cultural style phenomenon, though he likely could have, had he rose to prominence during the era. And, no, he also didn't receive the name due to his sexual prowess. Rather, his name is earned from the two weapons he carries with him at all times.
They're named Mirror Blades. Their shapes can match any form of melee weaponry their metal has ever clashed against, which in the lifetime of both Edgelord and the blades themselves, has allowed for the amassment of an incredible arsenal of weapons. Through the blades' forms, he possesses an infinitely large collection of sharp edges, times two.
You've felt the edges of his blades before, but unlike most of the men and women on the screen right now, you lived.
The cannoneer aims his blast at Edgelord, but the moment before he presses the trigger, Edgelord swings his Mirror Blades around to intercept the shot. His blades become broadswords, crossing and forming an X. The Blades live up to their title as they begin to angle and reflect the light back, and Edgelord gracefully rotates his makeshift shield to wipe out a whole company of soldiers.
Realizing his current efforts are only hurting his cause, the cannoneer pulls his finger off of the trigger. He attempts one last effort to hurt the warrior. He pulls his cannon close to his chest, turns his body to orient his shoulder forward, and charges the madman.
But, he is not the madman in this situation. Edgelord remains completely in control, merely sidestepping the man's attack. One of his Blades slices through the air and the man's neck, beautifully transitioning into a rapier with a blood-painted tip. The blade evidently cut deep, as the cannoneer slumps to the ground, void of life.
He dodges away from the body once more, looking down at the body with innate curiosity. Seconds later, seemingly content with its fate, he pulls his eyes back away and faces the opposing brigade of heroes once more. His weapons take the shape of small daggers and disappear in his clutch.
He places a foot on top of the fresh corpse and addresses the opposing military.
"Anyone else feel like challenging the apex predator?" 
The soldiers towards the immediate front paused. Their weapons slumped in defeat. Still, in the background of the battlefield, the fight continued, oblivious to his tactics. Edgelord sighed, part of him longing to return to the battlefield eventually, but ultimately he knew that his master Crimelord Direhart had dispatched him here to this battlefield with a grander purpose.
On the corner of the monitor, a red flare appe ars. You recognize it as the laser sight of an energy sniper rifle.
Edgelord seems to notice it too, somehow, because you watch one of his knives shift into a large glaive. He tosses it out onto the battlefield, and it evidently does its work, for the sight shifts downwards into the fray of battle. The shot fires and wipes out another nameless soldier instead.
The glaive does not return to his hand, but a soaring hammer does. It tears a great wave across the battlefield as it does, sparkling and ripping with electricity. The shock is enough to enrapture a large swath of combatants, whose eyes follow its path obediently.
"Now that I've got your attention..." Edgelord growls, sheathing the hammer as a sword in the scabbard on his back.
The crazed marauder thrusts a silver cylinder into the air. It was like a soda can, long and metallic, and with a rather dumb logo emblazoned on what would call "front and center". Really, cylinders have no front, but that was not a topic worth philosophizing about in that situation.
Normally, such a device would not cause people to freeze in awe. Had it not been for the object's glowing logo and beeping, the man would have just been shot immediately and all would have continued normally (until the device exploded and they all died; still, perhaps an unaware and unexpected death is much more peaceful than one that is known to be imminent, but now was not the time for philosophy).
The din of battle slowly crawled away, before whispers of fear and confusion took its place.
"What's he holding?" "Are we being blackmailed?" "Can someone get a good shot on him, for the love of god?" "Someone set him up with a bomb?" "He's going to kill us all." "Maybe it's inert." "How do we know that's just not a can of diet soda?" "I knew committing myself to a battle of good versus evil as a simple foot soldier would be the death of me." "Wait, why would it have to be diet soda?" "I'm pretty sure that's not soda. I'm also pretty sure we're all fucked."
"Don't you know you'll kill yourself?" asked the apparent commander, her weapon in her hands slumping down as she stared disbelievingly at someone she perceived to be a madman.
"Oooh, I know alright, lady. I'll kill myself, and, a good chunk of your armada. Enough to let a surge of ships through and into earth's atmosphere. Usher in a new reign. All that jazz," he chuckles. His tone, combined with his words, sends shivers down the crew's spines. "I know how this thing works. I took a debriefer." Contrary to his words, it was highly probable that he did not actually know how the capsule worked at all. He has always been one to bluff. And, as he spoke, he twisted his fingers round the capsule, probing for what would be considered an on-switch. He didn't know if it even had one, but he was sure as hell going to try and find it if it did.
This fumbling naturally granted time for a bit of planning. 
----
"We're going to ram. As soon as we breach, we're going to put all power into shields. If we time it right..."
"The bomb will blow us up, not him," Artemis surmised.
Major Tom nodded.
"Sounds like a wonderful plan, master!" Laika chirped, gleefully unaware that he was going to be driving the ship into his own suicide.
You know the boy's name, of course. He is Alexander Ezra. You have been through this conversation one hundred times - or more - it seems. And, because of your experience, you know that he's not going to name himself Alexander Ezra. If he was, why wouldn't this little series of yours have the title Alexander 101 instead of Sol 101?
(Unless we split this episode up...)
(Sol uses Nebulous Centerfold to return to the crash site)
(Sol meets Laika)
The robot had guns for hands, which naturally intimidated Sol, but he carried himself with a friendly demeanor, so Sol was able to offput that 
He now sported a steely grey metallic gauntlet coating his hand. Any onlookers would have been surprised to see him capable of lifting it. Really, thanks to the Omnitrix, this sterling gauntlet was his hand now (temporarily, of course).
"A child? A child opposes me?" He repeated the question, as if the few seconds it took to ask made Sol age years instead. "Do you know how many children I've murdered?I've wiped out entire generations! Thousands of them! Hundreds, with my bare hands!"
"It's about to be... Whatever the number is, minus one." Sol's threat didn't make any sense, but it didn't have to, because neither of them were smart enough to pick up on his error.
(Sol uses Nebulous Crunch Punch to knock out what's his face for a while, or at least knock him back)
Time seemed to slow a while, as if the universe itself was aligning just so Sol's silver fist could collide with the maniac's face - and it did, masterfully so. The alien lived up to his namesake. With one Punch, Edgelord went flying back into a tree with a satisfying Crunch.
Of course, Edgelord was no wimp. He shook the blow off. Sol prepared to deal another blow to him, but the Omnitrix knew this would be folly. Besides, there were more important things to attend to during this interlude.
The transformation faded. Sol looked down at his pink fleshy hands with a look of utter disappointment and weakness.
"L-laika?"
"Don't worry master, I've got you covered!" happily chirped the robot. Laika's guns began to spun. Moments later, they began to drizzle bullets across the battlefield.
"Omnitrix... What the fuck?" Sol asked, still staring in disbelief and disappointment at his own hands. The Omnitrix Core floated around his back.
"Quick - while you have a chance - raise the body you found." Sol was initially confused, because he hadn't seen any corpses lying around yet, but he soon came to realize that she meant the body of the gauntlet. Silly mechanical terms, always giving animist qualities to ancient alien relics.
The Omnitrix was proposing reunification with the body of her prison that had trapped her for so long. Sol supposed this was Stockholm syndrome, while really she just dreaded the things Edgelord was no doubt intending to do to and with her. Fusing with one dirty, unkempt, and immature bald monkey was enough for today.
ALIEN 2, the Omnitrix boomed. Sol was about to point out that this was technically the third alien he had used, but then he remembered he was in a fight to the death and if his thoughts got sidetracked onto enumeration the encounter would probably just be shortened to "a death".
----
thumb|center|335 px|El Fin
==Trivia==
*Technically, Alien 2 is the 2 1/3 alien that this iteration of Sol used:
**Nebulous Centerfold = 1/3
**Nebulous Crunch Punch = 1/3 (+ 1/3 = 2/3)
**Unstable Alien 2 = 2/3 + (+ 2/3 = 4/3)
**Alien 2 = 1 (+4/3 = 7/3 or 2 1/3)
*In the original version of Sol 10, Alien 2 was the second alien Sol ever used and thus his name was retained.
*Fun fact: a prequel episode that explained how Jules got to the Eiffel Tower was planned and scrapped.
**Additionally, a segment at the beginning of this episode that 
*Songs listened to during the writing of this episode:
**Courtney Barnett - Avant Gardener
**The Voidz - Did My Best
**OK Go - Here It Goes Again
**the sounds of sol's abusive father going on a rampage in the kitchen
**Blur - Coffee and TV
**Suicidal Tendencies - Institutionalized
**Grimes - Genesis
**Grimes - We Appreciate Power
**The Antlers - No Widows
**Scott Pilgrim OST - Threshold
**Death Grips - I've Seen Footage
**Off OST - Peppered Steak
**MOON - Hydrogen
**Jakey - Not Dead Yet
**Homestuck OST - The Scratch
**Homestuck OST - Skaian Shrapnel
**Homestuck OST - Another Chance
Category:Episodes
Category:Episodes in Production