r/RecordOfOurRagnarok

Moments prior: Archangel’s Viewing Booth 

Ares glanced between his father and Metatron with a confused expression. The latter’s last words leaving him stumped.

“Ehh?! Yahweh was your protégé, Lord Metatron? I thought he was OLDER than you?”

Michael sighed, shaking his head. “A common misconception. I don’t know how it caught on.” 

Metatron’s expression suddenly turned wistful, as though recalling the past.

“Oh great… you’ve gone and done it now.” Gabriel groaned. “You got the old man reminiscing about the ‘good old days’ now…”

“Yes…” Metatron muttered. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to see them all together once again.” 

“Fufu~” Hermes breathed lightly. “Surely you aren’t referring to THAT incident?” 

All of a sudden, Michael and Gabriel bristled dangerously. Both turning to the Greeks with a warning glare. 

“Don’t…” Michael snarled, eyes glistening. “Don’t get the old man started on it.”

“Oho? Is the uptight Archistraegos getting emotional?” Zeus crowed. “That must mean whatever side of the story you have… is EXTRA juicy~”

Michael said nothing, instead drawing his sword and igniting it with Heavenly fire. Zeus stood up, his muscles swelling as he loomed over the archangel—

“Enough Michael.” Raphael said, sharing the same wistful expression as Metatron. “Let him speak. I want to remember… No matter how painful it is.”

Metatron frowned. “I apologize for getting carried away, Michael. If you do not wish me to…”

“Tch—Just tell it.” Michael grumbled, sheathing his blade whilst Zeus pouted. “Plus, it’s like Raphael said, if there’s even a chance he’d lose…” 

The Archistraegos turned to the battlefield, watching Yahweh and Beowulf continue to trade blows. 

The Celestial Scribe nodded. “So be it.” 

With a flick of his hand, an astral-like scroll manifested from out of Metatron’s palm, circling around him as ancient Hebrew words began to glow and float off the pages. 

“Tell me.” The Celestial Scribe began, “What do you know of… Shamayin?”

“Uh—I…” Ares cleared his throat. For as one of The Twelve Olympians it is only natural he answers! 

“Shamayin is the territory of The Abhrahamic Pantheon ruled by Yahweh as its Supreme God!” He cried, looking quite pleased with himself as Metatron nodded.

“Yes.” He said. “Although I know a certain few who would argue over who truly runs the show” Michael scoffed in agreement. “However, not counting the likes of us angels, Yahweh is not just Shamayin’s Supreme God… he is also the ONLY god who resides there.”

“?!”

The scroll disappeared, leaving only the astral words hanging in thin air. They began to swirl around the room, forming blurry images that fuzzed in and out of focus.

Hermes mused. “But that wasn’t always the case, was it?”

“Mhm...” Metatron muttered, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he struggled to maintain control. Seeing this, Michael stepped forward, “Allow me, Lord Metatron.” and struck the mass with his sword, taming what Metatron couldn’t.

“Gah…! Thank you… Where was I? Oh yes…”

As the letters floated behind him, The Celestial Scribe took a deep breath and began.

…

Shamayin. In Hebrew it means Heaven or Sky, the dwelling place of God himself… Yet in Valhalla, that is not the case.

Shamayin had neither the prestige of Takamagahara, the strength of Olympus, the presence of Asgard, nor the ancient roots of the Duat. Its sole notability… is its role as Heaven’s premier labour force, with angels of various ranks reporting back to it as their base of operations. 

Yet to humans—those alive on earth, and even some in the afterlife? Many believe its ruler: The One True God: Omnipotent, alone, and without equal. But was that always the case?

Nay.

Should one delve further into the records, Shamayin was not always so monoesthetic! It was once the stomping grounds of many evil gods and pantheons!

The astral letters behind Metatron transformed, and his audience beheld an army of shadowy figures appearing in front of the unmistakable silhouette of Yahweh. Of them, four appeared larger and more distinct than the rest with titles manifesting above them.

The Lord of Flies

The God of Sacrifice

The Heavenly Queen

The Philistine God

All four lunged and before their eyes, were instantly struck down by Yahweh whose victory sent another flash of light that banished the rest of the horde!

Defeating these False Gods, Yahweh liberated the realm and established it as his undisputed stronghold. Closing Shamayin off from the rest of Heaven, allowing no other deity to sully it with their presence!

THIS is the story gods and humans alike in Valhalla know and believe: Yahweh’s Expulsion of The False Idols! His bold claim as The One True God! Yet once again… is THAT the truth?!

Nay. Nay! NAY!

That could not be further from the truth.

…

Shamayin: Thousands of Years ago

It all began in a valley, one of many in Shamayin. A lush green field with a fertile river running through it, surrounded by rugged hills which if climbed—revealed the far-reaching sands of the deserts beyond. Under an olive tree, a make-shift fighting ring had been fashioned out of a circle of rocks with two gods sparring vigorously in it, whilst another pair watched beneath the shade.

“You’re not getting away this time!” One of the gods in the ring roared triumphantly as he swung a wobbly haymaker.

The strike went wide as his opponent laughed, easily breezing past his guard and landing a clean jab against his left-side’s brachial plexus.

“Crap!” The first god winced, feeling his arm go numb as he retreated. 

The god who had just landed the blow—the larger amongst the two—began to shadow-box in his corner, a clear taunt to his rival. 

He had dark skin that was splattered with gold paint, a square jaw, and large bull-like horns. Fashioning an ornate gold shoulderpiece and bracers that matched the color of his eyes, paired with a layered white-and-red skirt tied around his waist.

https://preview.redd.it/yhutn4gb1rjh1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=f61248ade6eae4c98b76fc54a870ea6eb15985ae

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Moloch
(Ammonite Pantheon)
God of Fire. Later known as The God of Sacrifice

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“Come on, Baal! You didn’t think THAT would hit me did you?” Moloch cackled. “Geez, with moves like that you might as well hand me the win!”

The other god looked up with a confident grin. He wore a horned conical helmet and a tunic that covered the left side of his chest, secured at the shoulder by a pauldron. Beneath it were blue leather-hide pants, their ankles lined with fur. Cloud-like tattoos stretched from his right pectoral down his arm to his fingertips.

https://preview.redd.it/7qzoq6bd1rjh1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=64fb7f7f68fa1b204907553947080ab082dbe38b

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Baal
(Canaanite Pantheon)
Lord of Storms. Later known as The Lord of Flies

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“You think so, Moloch? Kukuku~ And I thought we were friends! You should know that I’ll never back down so easily!”

“Exactly what I want to hear!” Moloch roared, surging forward. Golden flames coated his fist as he threw forth a fiery strike! 

“Better get ready for this one! I call it my—LEVITICUS HAMMER!”

“Sounds cool!” Baal said, raising his right arm. 

All of a sudden, the tattoos glowed and streaks of lighting flowed down its length and culminated at his open palm, turning it a shade of electric blue as his eyes lit up. 

“But I’M electric!” 

THUNDER PALM! 

A bolt of lighting shot forward, striking Moloch in the chest and knocking him back against the ground. The Ammonite God wheezed, struggling to catch his breath as Baal burst into peals of laughter. 

“REF! That’s a foul!” Moloch whined. “We agreed to just our fists and NO powers. Baal being a dirty cheat again!” 

“Fufufu~ Really Moloch? Pouting again?”

The referee of the match sat beneath the oak tree leaning against the trunk with an air of regal poise. Two earthen-colored wings were folded neatly behind her back as her golden eyes sparkled with amusement, a tiered horned crown sat on top of ebony hair tied back in a neat bun. Her body, tanned and toned, was wrapped under golden jewelry and flounced robes that exposed just enough of her skin and assets to tantalize the imagination. 

https://preview.redd.it/8sst6g4f1rjh1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=aff28fc97722f17825ccb02cbc077f7ad0ec5bfe

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Ishtar
(Mesopotamian Pantheon)
Goddess of Love. Later known as The Heavenly Queen

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“Well, yes… I suppose you’re right though.” Ishtar mused with faux thoughtfulness. “Buuuuuuuut! It was pretty funny watching you get thrown on the ground like that, so I’ll give this one to Baal.” 

“Aw fuck you too then.” Moloch grumbled as Baal helped him to his feet. “This is the last time I have YOU referee our match, right, Dagan?” 

Moloch looked to the last god sitting on the branches of the oak. The tallest, with flowing brown hair that ended in a green ombre. He was dressed in a custom tunic that exposed his tattooed chest, with all manner of aquatic greenery accentuated the attire.

https://preview.redd.it/vc9x6zgh1rjh1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=70784f0a194c247e2b215d9309ccdb5d92123aff

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Dagan
(Philistine Pantheon)
God of Fertility. Later known as The Philistine God

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Dagan said nothing, merely shaking his head with fond exasperation. Moloch threw his arms in the air in defeat. “Ugggh! With friends like these, who needs enemies?” 

“Come now, friend. Lighten up!” Baal said, grasping Moloch’s shoulders. “I’ll make it up to you later, no need to be so sore about it!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Moloch smirked, brushing him off. “Always with the sweet talk, huh? Lord of Storms.”

“Aw, you two made up?” Ishtar drawled cheekily. “And back to the usual muscle-bound romance already as well? How sweet~”

“ZIP IT, ISHTAR!” Moloch and Baal snapped as the valley was filled with the laughter of the four friends.

…

Moloch, Baal, Ishtar, and Dagan… Though separated by pantheons, they all called Shamayin their home. Never had I met young gods with such attachments and bonds amongst one another—they were practically siblings in everything but blood!—Nor have I ever seen a relationship like the one they had… with him.

…

The sound of fluttering wings filled the valley. Baal was the first to look up, and gestured towards the sky at the approaching figure.

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Metatron
(Abrahamic Pantheon)
Then Head of Valhalla Scientific Research 

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Younger with ebony hair rather than gray as it was now, Metatron descended from the sky carrying someone on his back. The angel and his passenger landed softly against the grass, prompting the four gods to exchange grins and make their way over as the young god on Metatron’s back dismounted.

“Now play nice, all of you.” The Celestial Scribe frowned. “He’s still feeling a bit dizzy after everything that’s happened.”

Moloch ignored him, sauntering past and gripping the god by the shoulder before pulling him in close as a  familiar head of tousled cloud-like hair—albeit shorter—came into view alongside prismatic white eyes that seemed unfocused at the moment. 

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Yahweh
(Abrahamic Pantheon)
God of The Sky. Later known as The One True God

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“Guh… Whu–? Oh crap, I must have dozed off whilst flying… where—?” Yahweh lifted his head and was greeted by the thing he feared most—four pairs of eyes glinting mischievously down at him—his heart began to race

‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!’

“W-wait, hold on!”

“Soooooo~” Ishtar drawled, leaning down. Those golden eyes of hers made him feel dizzy. “Looks like someone's back from their big important excursion to Valhalla RnD, huh?”

‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!’

“Doing big important godly stuff.” Baal nodded sagely. “Probably on track to be a Supreme God too, no doubt. Now wouldn’t THAT be something”

“We’re not worthy!” Moloch cackled.

‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!’

Yahweh blushed. Compared to them, he was downright diminutive, his head barely even brushing the tops of their shoulders.

“Aw come on guys! Do we really have to do this now?”

Moloch’s grin widened, and Yahweh gulped. That smile could only mean…

“Yep! We can’t let such an important god go unnoticed now, can we? Now hold still—upsie-dasies!”

“N-no! Don’t you do it! I don’t wanna—!”

But it was too late, Yahweh could only yelp as Moloch lifted him onto his shoulders as the rest of the gods surrounded him and let out a cheer.

“You really love to make yourself useful, don’tcha?” Baal laughed, ruffling his hair. “Yer making the rest of us look bad, y’know! Folks are gonna think Lord Metatron only has ONE student under him—HAHA!”

Yahweh’s blush deepened as Metatron laughed behind them. “It… it really wasn’t anything… We all know you’re the strongest, Baal.”

Ishtar giggled as she gave him a peck on the forehead, instantly sending his heart rate into overdrive. 

‘BA-dum! BA-dum! BA-dum!’

“Aww~ Still being so humble? Classic Yahweh. Fufufu~ I like that about you, and that cute little heart fluttering away~”

“Careful now Ishtar.” Metatron chuckled, joining their circle. “The poor lad looks as though he might explode.”

“N-no!” The Sky God retorted. “It’s not like that made me happy or anything!”

“Hmph~ It didn’t?” Ishtar pouted.

“NO! Wait—uh, I meant—”

Baal rolled his eyes. “Geez, Yahweh. Pass the ball if you ain’t gonna play.”

Fortunately for Yahweh’s humility, Dagan’s praise came in the form of a simple fist bump.

“Good job… Strong one”

“...T–thanks, Dagan.”

Moloch grimaced as he set Yahweh down. “Geez, all this chumminess is making my stomach churn! In a good way, of course! Say… what did Yahweh do again?”

Metatron and the other gods sighed.

“You never pay attention, do you?” Ishtar berated.

“Why’d you think he always loses to me?” Baal quipped cheekily.

“HEY!”

Yahweh giggled softly. Before speaking up: “It… it really wasn’t anything special. Lord Metatron just brought me over to the labs for this new experiment they’re working on to take some samples…”

“Really?” Moloch gasped. “Hey pops! Spill the beans, what is it all for?”

Metatron smiled, stroking his beard. “Well I can’t just go around telling you that now, can I?”

“Pleeeeeeeease?”

The Celestial Scribe laughed seeing the five pleading faces. “Oh alright. We needed Yahweh’s samples as the basis for those new creatures the council plans to populate Eden with! We call them humans, and this one… is going to be based on your friend! Meet Project Adam!”

He pulled out a holographic screen, showing off a being that eerily resembled Yahweh, save his blonde hair, paler skin, and more… defined musculature.

“Coooooool!” The four gods marvelled at the sight.

“Yeah…” Yahweh sighed. “You can tell where they decided to be more liberal from the source material”—*Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!’—*His heart beat sped up, warning him of the hands around his waist. 

“Not again!”

“BWAHAHAHA! Soon we’ll have a bunch of buff little Yahweh’s running around!” Moloch said, lifting Yahweh above his head like a prize. “We better make sure we don’t lose the original! He’s worth a billion of those ants, right guys?”

Yahweh squirmed helplessly as the rest of his friends cheered in agreement. His cries of embarrassment echoing across the valley as they ignored his pleas of mercy.

“YOU GUUUUYS!!!”

…

He was the weakest of the bunch back then—Yet in a time that valued those with individual strength, all his friends still saw him as… equal.

…

Shamayin Training Grounds

“91… 92… 93…!”

Yahweh’s forehead and arms strained with effort as he slowly lifted a massive boulder above his head, pumping up and down, and back up again. Besides him, Baal vigorously spun his index finger, keeping count as he encouraged him.

“94…! C’mon, Yahweh just six more!” 

Yahweh gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to lift the rock up again.

“I… I can’t do it!”

“Nuh-uh! Don’t give me that quitter talk—You CAN do it! If you’re gonna stand on my level, I’m not letting you stay a twink forever!”

Yahweh furrowed his brow as he tightened his core and braced.

“Is… is this about Ishtar?”

Baal paused “… No? Ok well… maybe. But still! Come on—ONE MORE! LIFT! LIFT!”

The Sky God groaned, his arms swelling with effort, as his shoulder blades dug into the ground and his legs pushed off against it. 

“Here… I… GOOOOOOO!” 

All of a sudden, Yahweh let out a huge roar, HURLING the boulder off his chest and far into the air. It flew into the distance, landing into the desert in a cloud of sand.

Baal gazed at it, then looked back, whistling in approval. 

“That was some dogma, Yahweh!” He chuckled, standing over the panting Sky God. “I can see why Ishtar likes ya—one of these days you’re gonna give all of us a run for our money!”

Yahweh did not answer, too busy with catching his breath.

“Ah…” Baal chuckled awkwardly. “You still got five more reps to go though, PLUS another four more sets! Better go retrieve it, I believe in ya!”

The Sky God groaned, head slumping against the floor. “So it IS about Ishtar.” 

Baal stuck out his tongue. “Bleh—what can I say? Envy’s a bitch.” 

…

Even one with a title as vicious as: God of Sacrifice, could not help but possess a fondness for his presence. Mentoring him in times when I could not.
…

Yahweh was in the training grounds again, locked in mock combat with Moloch at a close range. The God of Sacrifice set the tempo, slowly moving Yahweh’s arms as they trained.

“Good… good!” Moloch muttered. “Ah! Remember what I said—protect your center, that’s where everyone's weakest.”

Yahweh frowned. “Is that why Baal always blasts you there with his Thunder Palm?”

“Cheating bastard…” Moloch mumbled under his breath before grinning. “Anyways, I doubt this matters much to you though… Especially since you can do THIS!”

All of a sudden, Moloch pushed Yahweh back and threw a particularly speedy Leviticus Hammer. Yahweh’s eyes widened, and his body moved on its own, his upper back bending unnaturally till it was parallel with the floor and dodging the strike entirely.

“YEAH—THERE WE GO!” Moloch laughed as Yahweh lost his balance and fell on his butt. “Now you got it! Your reaction speed really picked up since last time, huh?”

‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!’

“What the heck, Moloch!” Yahweh whined, clutching his chest. “You almost burnt me there! It felt—it felt…”

“Thrilling, right?” Moloch laughed, settling down next to him. “That’s the feeling of IMPROVEMENT!”

“… It felt alright, I guess…” 

“Well you better get used to it!” Moloch grinned, hauling him back to his feet. “Your weird body is great for passive defence, but remember what Lord Metatron advised?”

He took a more aggressive stance, prompting Yahweh to tentatively do the same.

“I’m gonna teach you to use it offensively! Prepare yourself, buddy! Cause I believe in you! And you’re about to feel my fist of love!” 

Yahweh whimpered.

“Somebody please save me…” 

…

Perhaps it was the softer traits of young Yahweh that made all his mightier peers view him so highly even amongst themselves

…

Yahweh lounged underneath the oak tree, the head of an enormous white bull lay between his crossed legs as the beast gave a low grunt of satisfaction.

Ishtar giggled, snuggling up next to Yahweh as she guided his trembling hand to pat the bull’s head.

“I-ish… are you sure?”

“Oh hush, Yahweh.” Ishtar chided, letting go of his arm and allowing him to pet it without assistance. “I’ve never seen it take to someone this fast! You really have a way with animals don’t you? It must be that adorably gentle nature of yours.” 

Yahweh felt his face go red as it usually did when he was around the goddess. 

“Awww, there he goes again~” Ishtar simpered, pulling Yahweh close as she ran her fingers through his cloudy hair idly. “I never get tired of that face. It’s just so you. Humble, sweet, and thoughtful… Nothing like those two battle nuts.”

The Bull, sensing something—looked up at Yahweh’s tomato face with an unimpressed look.

Come on, man. it’s RIGHT THERE.  

“Speaking of which…” Ishtar muttered, drawing his attention to those piercing gold eyes once more as her face became more competitive. “Moloch and Baal tell me you’ve gotten really strong as of late. How about we head down to the grounds later and have ourselves a little spar? Show me just how strong you are~”

Yahweh tensed, remembering what Moloch and Baal told him: Never EVER accept a challenge from Ishtar 

“M-maybe next time? I told Lord Metatron I would help him organize his scrolls.”

Ishtar huffed. “Ugh~ Really? Or are you just fibbing again? Oh well… I believe you. But mark my words, one of these days, you’ll have no escape. I ALWAYS get my way~”

“I-in a fight… right?” 

Yahweh's heart raced so fast, he might as well have melted seeing Ishtar turn to him with a smirk.

“A fight?” Ishtar mused, kissing him on the cheek. “Hmmm sure, let’s call it that~” 

…

Nay… it was PRECISELY his nature that made them acknowledge his strength—whether it existed or not! 

…

“Hey… Dagan?”

Yahweh was seated beneath the tree again. This time however, Dagan was the one with him, resting on the branches above. 

“Why do you keep calling me, ‘Strong one’?”

Dagan opened one eye. “Because you are strong.” He said simply.

Yahweh winced. “You guys keep saying that… but I’m not.”

“I believe you are.” Dagan yawned. “And I will call you what I deem fit, Strong one.”

“… That word again.” Yahweh muttered softly under his breath. “It just rubs me the wrong way… H-hey Dagan! I… I challenge you! If I win—you better stop using that word! ” 

Dagan exhaled, before leaping out of the canopy and landing in front of Yahweh, straightening ominously with an uncharacteristically PUMPED UP grin!

“I admit…” He muttered—‘BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’—Yahweh’s heart raced like never before! “I did not expect you to say that yet, Yahweh. Moloch and Baal have honed you, but not yet so that you can stand on my level. Yet you still try? That is precisely why… you ARE strong!—So come and show me, JUST HOW STRONG YOU TRULY ARE!!!” 

…

That is how Yahweh became known as my greatest protégé, my STAR pupil! I could not have asked for a finer set of students. But then it all went wrong… when I requested him and his friends to do ‘that’. That which I wished I had NEVER asked…

…

Shamayin

The scene returned once again to the valley, it was now evening and time had passed. Metatron and his students sat around a campfire, The Celestial Scribe was deep in thought whilst the five gods chattered nervously amongst themselves.

“Did you hear—?”

“Yeah… that Adam mutilated someone in the courtroom!”

“How is that even possible? Aren’t humans incapable of hurting us?”

“Well yeah. But that lecherous snake wasn’t technically a god now, was he?”

As his friends continued discussing, Yahweh approached Metatron with a concerned look upon his face.

“L-lord Metatron?” He stammered. “What’s going to happen to the humans now?”

Metatron looked up, trying for a kindly look as he beckoned Yahweh to sit beside him.

“Do not fret, my boy.” He said. “Adam and his wife will be fine, I’m sure. They were made to be tough, just like you.”

Yahweh pulled his knees close to his chest. “I don’t feel really tough though…”

The Celestial Scribe sighed, patting the god’s head before gently tilting it upwards. “Look up there. Do you see it? The stars in the endless sky? How they glint so brightly, uncountable even if you tried? Boundless… Boundless like the potential that I see in you and your friends.”

As Yahweh stared, entranced by the beautiful scene, Metatron’s gaze drifted into the distance. His brow furrowed as he considered his words.

“But you are right to be concerned, my boy,” he said bitterly. “Adam possesses great power. He will surely thrive on Earth. But I am not worried about him. It is the other humans.”

He paused.

“They are performing... less than expected. And after Adam’s recent incident, the council may find it prudent to terminate the entire project.”

The other gods fell silent.

“Unless,” Metatron continued, “there is some... divine guidance.”

“Divine guidance?” Moloch asked. “What do you mean by that, pops?”

Metatron looked at each of his students. Their faces were filled with a desire to help, and he could not shake the feeling that he was exploiting it. He was asking them to sacrifice precious time and youth that could have been spent establishing themselves in the Heavenly Realms.

Nevertheless, he revealed his plan.

“Perhaps our mistake was expecting humans to fend for themselves. We made them in our image. We gave them our flaws, yet no power. Nothing to live for beyond survival.”

He looked up towards the skies.

“They need something more. Something to believe in. Something to strive for.”

Metatron turned to his students.

“Hope.”

The word hung in the air.

“If humans are to prove themselves, they must first have the desire to do so. And that is where you five come in.”

He gestured toward them.

“Descend to Earth. Find the humans, guide them, and give them something to believe in. Let them look to the skies and know they are not alone.”

The Celestial Scribe sighed.

“I know it is much to ask of you. But if humans are shaped by desire, then perhaps we, as gods, as their creators, have a duty to inspire it.”

The five gods exchanged uneasy glances, this certainly was a big ask… In theory, it seemed plausible, how hard could it be to wrangle in a few humans and teach them a few tricks? Yet wouldn't their time be better off spent on more meaningful endeavors?

“I dunno.” Baal muttered, playing with the electricity between his fingers. “I mean I’d love to help…”

Ishtar frowned, folding her arms beneath her bust. “Lord Metatron is right, we created them, so we should be responsible in making sure they thrive... I say it’s worth a shot.”

“Yes, I agree, let’s do it.” Baal said quickly.

“*Ahem—*Loser!” Moloch coughed underneath his breath. 

Dagan turned to Yahweh. "Well, Strong one?” He said, making the latter flinch. “What shall you do?”

Everyone’s gaze turned towards the god who had been chewing his thumb in contemplation. Yahweh looked up, squeaking slightly at the sudden attention. 

“Uh… I… uhm—Well I guess it wouldn’t hurt…”

Yahweh felt something brush against his back as Ishtar gave him a supportive nudge. The Sky God gulped, then nodded.

“Y-yeah! I meant that I’m gonna help! They... Well, I helped make them, didn’t I? So I can’t just leave them behind now! I'll do it, Lord Metatron!”

“Awwwwwww!” Ishtar wrapped her arms around him in a hug so tight Yahweh nearly suffocated. “You’re the best, hun!”

“Hey, don’t forget about us!” Baal and Moloch protested. “Those humans are gonna be bona-fide survivalists once we're through with them!”  

Dagan sighed, leaning against the tree. “If the Strong one has decided so, then I shall follow too.”

“YOU CAN COUNT ON US, LORD METATRON!” 

Metatron could not hide the smile brimming across his aging face, filled with pride and love for his dear students 

“Thank you—” He breathed. “Thank you all. My dear students”

…

Truly I was a fool.

The Heavens

Eden

Mountain Biome

“…Why?” Metatron whispered as the pain faded.

“Does it matter?” Arthur asked. “There are far more important things right now, like stopping that monster and saving Michael and Hades.”

“…Michael is here?”

“He is.” Another boom echoed in the distance. “Now let me focus. The quicker you’re on your feet, the quicker we can save him.”

Metatron lay his head back and closed his eyes.

Far away, Michael’s barrage smashed harmlessly against Brisingamen’s stars.

“You are nowhere near your full power,” Odin said, the voices of Yggdrasil speaking in perfect, yet cacophonic, harmony. He flicked Gram’s point at Michael, and Brisingamen rocketed at him. “A being like you would have been worthwhile had your father not sealed your powers.”

Michael slammed his palm into the ground. The soil around him immediately bubbled and erupted, summoning a wave of lava.

“That is useless!”

The stars pierced through the wave.

“It’s not a barrier!” Michael yelled. He twisted his palm across the ground.“Bāʿē Arʿā Məsīḵtā! (Molten Earth Seeker)” The wave split into dozens of glowing tendrils, flying towards Odin-Yggdrasil. The stars flew out of the lava, but Michael kicked off the ground and flew up, dodging them. He aimed his left palm straight down. “Teviʿtā Yaqīrtā! (Heavy Demand)” A wave of gravity collided with the stars, smashing them into the molten soil.

Odin swung Gram and Gungnir at the oncoming projectiles, knocking them out of the air.

Michael darted towards him, aiming his right hand at him and curling his fingers. Odin-Yggdrasil started sliding across the ground. “WHAT?” Then immediately flew up.

Michael smashed his fist into the Egil helm, firing him back to the ground with a monstrous crash.

“I am the eldest son of the Sancti!” He roared, barreling straight down into a dive. “And as such, I will never let you near my family again!” His fist slammed the earth, and three trails of metallic blades burst from the soil. “You took my sister’s beloved from her and turned my family into outcasts!” The blades reached Odin-Yggdrasil, stabbing against his body and shooting him skyward. “You haunted my home, and for that…” Telluric currents flowed from the soil and lava towards him, making electricity spark across his olive-toned body and tattered robes as his messy black hair stood on end. “I will put you out of our misery! Rāʿmā d'Arʿā (Thunder of the Earth)!” He clapped his hands, and a bolt fired from his fingertips.

Odin-Yggdrasil, without looking, swung Gram into the bolt and cleaved it in two. He froze in mid-air and slowly rolled to face a shocked Michael. He flicked Gungnir, and Michael felt the earth shake below him. He jumped away just in time to avoid Brisingamen as it tore through the soil beneath him. The stars flew back to their master, circling him.

“Even in a weakened state, your power is…adequate. A shame.” He raised Gram. “All shall yield, even the Earth.” He swung down.

Vidarr and Siegfried appeared next to Michael, the latter raising his sword. His blade collided with a monstrous unseen force, and he braced against it.

“Siegfried?!” Michael yelled.

“Get him to Hades!” Siegfried yelled. “I got this!”

“Are you insane?!” Vidarr yelled, staring up at the monster that was once his father. “That thing’s not even Odin anymore!”

“That’s why you need to get Mike to Hades! Völund can…bypass the limit on your powers…right?!” His feet skid a little, but he parried the unseen force to his left. It cleaved through the valley and bisected the mountain behind them. “Get Hades back to Arthur, heal him up so those two can Völund!”

“What about you?” Vidarr asked.

Siegfried took his sword in both hands, staring down his foe.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Vidarr nodded, and the pair vanished.

Odin-Yggdrasil tilted his head and leered. Slowly, he descended to the valley floor, landing gently a dozen meters away.

“The Primordial Vessel…” The monster whispered.

“Is Odin I know still in there?” Siegfried asked as he planted his sword.

“He is, but he is not involved in this affair anymore.”

Siegfried threw off his striped coat, revealing lean muscle under his yellow shirt.

“Concede, Siegfried. You have a role, and you must fulfill it.”

“What do I get out of it?” He tied his platinum blonde hair back in a ponytail.

“A quick death free of fear and pain, unlike the rest of Creation.”

Siegfried pulled his sword out of the ground. “That sounds pretty nice, but that includes Hilde, so I decline.”

“You assume you have a choice.” He flicked Gram, sending stars at Siegfried.

“There’s always a choice.” His gentle aura flowed out. Odin-Yggdrasil felt a familiar chill as Siegfried took his double-edged sword in both hands. As if they were feathers, Siegfried tapped the stars with his sword, guiding them along its flat and parrying them away.

What…is he? They thought.

“You hurt her…and I can’t let you all get away with that.”

“And you’ll make us ‘pay’ with a simple piece of orichalcum?”

Siegfried’s breath calmed as his hair floated up. “Doesn’t matter what it’s made of. With any sword, I can cut anything.”

The stars flew back, encircling Odin-Yggdrasil. He planted Gungnir and moved Gram to his right hand, brandishing it.

“…Show us.”

Siegfried came face to face with him, his sword already raised. Dread raced down his spine as Sieg’s piercing, dilated gaze bore through him.

“Keep up.”

Siegfried swung down. Odin-Yggdrasil raised Gram to block, but Siegfried’s blade already reached his shoulder and cleaved through his body, splitting him in half. Pain fired through his whole body as Draupnir’s spectral arms pushed his two halves back together, instantly fusing them into one piece again.

“Did that hurt?!”

Odin-Yggdrasil slashed, but Siegfried rolled under it and cut him in two at his ribs. The Draupnir arms pushed the two halves together as more blood poured out. He rocketed away and soared high above the valley.

“You asked me to show you!” Siegfried yelled.

They leered down at him and saw it.

“Do you see it?!”

Somehow, it was not until those two simple swings that they realized what stood below them. Not who. What*.*

Corpses of all shapes and sizes, the valley full of them. All covered in lacerations. Some dismembered. Some decapitated.

What…is he? They thought.

“You see it.” Siegfried’s gaze cooled.

Is this the power of the Vessel? Or is it his? We cannot fight haphazardly anymore.

Odin-Yggdrasil’s head went limp.

All four of us acting in tandem is hindering us. Who wishes to go?

Suddenly, it jerked, and he leered at Siegfried.

“He is mine.” A deep bass voice spoke. “I will not allow another swordsman to disrespect Gram and me.”

He is yours. Show him the might of the real Odin.

He rocketed down, crashing into the valley. He started twirling the wicked blade between his fingers. His spectral arms vanished into his body, and the stars landed across his chest and back.

“We did…” He spoke.

“Good! You’re not the type so drunk on power you can still see death. A lot of them didn’t.” Siegfried’s smile turned wicked.

“Don’t show your ego, half-breed pup. I created the idea of the sword.” He brandished Gram.

Siegfried inhaled and instantly entered his space. “Neat! That means you’ll be a challenge!”

 

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Far from the fated exchange, buried deep in an impromptu mountainside cave, Hades struggled to raise himself off the rubble beneath him.

“Damn,” He rasped, struggling to keep his grip on Desmos. “Not even Desmos could match him…what are we fighting?”

“Hades!” Vidarr shouted from the cave’s mouth. “Are you in there?!”

“I…am…” Finally, he got to his feet. Vidarr and Michael rushed in, seeing his beaten and bruised body. His white pants and purple vest were torn to tatters, and there were traces of blood in his white hair.

“Good Heaven, you’re alive?” Michael said. “How are you standing?”

“Because…I have a responsibility.” His legs buckled, but he propped against Desmos. “And why…are you here?”

“Same reason. Again, how are you alive?!”

“Pure stubbornness,” Vidarr said, his gold eyes scanning Hades’ injuries. “Týr was in better shape after Fenrir!”

“I imagine so. That means I cannot dally.” Hades’ ears twitched. He could hear the faint clang of metal against metal from far below. “Who’s fighting Odin?”

“Siegfried,” Vidarr answered.

Hades’s left hand shot up and grabbed the fur trim of Vidarr’s armor. “Are you mad?! You brought the Primordial Vessel right to them!”

“But he’s also the best chance we got until you’re healed!” Michael said. “Sieg’s got a sword!”

“…What does that even mean?”

“Not important! We need to get you back to Arthur to get healed!” Vidarr interjected, looping his arm around Hades’ torso.

“Stop, Vidarr!”

“But—”

“There’s not enough time to get me healed.” He looked over at Michael. “Do you…remember how to do Völund?”

“And you say I’m mad?! Look at you!” Vidarr yelled.

Hades stepped away from him and faced Michael.

“Do you?”

“…I do,” Michael nodded.

“Good. That settles it.” Hades offered Desmos’ shaft. “Take hold of it, and we shall perform Völund.”

“…You’re barely standing.”

“And yet the fight must continue. If we leave Siegfried alone down there, he will eventually fall. And I for one…” Yama and Týr flashed through his mind. “Do not want to let sacrifices be in vain.”

Michael sighed. “He is my brother-in-law…I guess we don’t have a choice”

Hades nodded. “Before we do this, I need to know something.”

“Is now really the time?”

“…It is. Michael, why are we, the oldest brothers, born first?”

Michael froze, and the world went silent. For the briefest moment, he saw their faces. His brothers. His sisters. All of them, dead and alive, happy. He saw his father, fighting against the grief his son knew was too much for him.

He saw the inside of his cell. The darkness, the chilled air. The confining, near-claustrophobic hole that was his home for a millennium and a half. Even now, in that cave, he could feel the fire burning in his stomach from Hades' words.

“We are born first because we’re the ones who’re supposed to protect the others. We are not told to. It is our mission from the start.”

Michael grabbed Desmos’ shaft.

“For our siblings,” He whispered.

“So they may never know the hells at their doorsteps.”

Yellow light enveloped the pair.

 VÖLUND!

 Michael vanished, and resting in Hades’ hand was a monstrous, ornate axe. Its stone head was polished to a pristine shine and wrapped in ornate gold weavings. The shaft was a deep purple, but the pommel was now solid gold and formed a sharp point. Golden gauntlets formed over Hades' battered arms, and a yellow-and-purple bracer encased his right arm and wrapped across his chest. A purple ram’s horn with gold tips sat on his right shoulder, and a single purple-and-yellow metallic horn rested on the right side of his head.

 

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Pisté Adelfé

Axe of Faith

“Get us down there.”

 

Odin stepped in and slashed to the right. As he swung, an invisible force carved through a mountain far behind his foe. Siegfried stepped back and swung his blade under Odin’s, hiding it under Gram’s wide blade. The tip barely missed his armor, and he swung back. Siegfried ducked the mountain-cleaving strike and thrust at his sternum. Odin took one small side step and swung down, carving through the valley again. Siegfried sidestepped the swing and slashed at his neck. Odin crouched under the slash and backstepped.

“Don’t run!” Siegfried yelled, stepping forward and shooting a one-handed thrust. “Not after all that talk earlier!”

A vein rose on Odin’s brow as his head slipped past the thrust and he shot his own. Siegfried pulled his sword back and parried Gram to his left.

“Not happy? Not used to fighting someone who gives you a challenge?” His sword flew up, but Odin sidestepped right and swung. Siegfried barely moved back, Gram’s point gliding in front of his eyes. He snapped his right hand at Odin’s wrist, but Odin slammed Gram’s pommel into his chest. Siegfried stood his ground, snapped his left hand on Odin’s wrist, and kicked his chest, sending him skidding back.

I need to stay close! Siegfried thought. If he gets too far away—

Odin stopped and swung at him. Siegfried crouched down to his knees, feeling the raw force of Odin’s swing fly over and tear through the mountains far behind him.

He rose and dashed.

Odin started another swing.

Siegfried kicked off the ground and slashed.

Their swords collided with a heavy and cacophonic clang. Siegfried pushed back, sliding his blade down to Gram’s strong just above the guard.

Both bared their teeth.

“A challenge?!” Odin roared, gripping Gram in both hands and pushing back. “I have slaughtered armies of Gods stronger than you!”

“Must be easy to kill those weaker than you!” Siegfried shot an uppercut into Odin’s chin, knocking his head back. He felt Gram give way and stepped back. He raised his sword and swung down.

Odin raised Gram and blocked the swing, letting out another deafening clang. Siegfried grit his teeth and flexed his muscles, driving Odin down. Odin’s eyes widened as his knees bent.

This strength! He thought, tilting Gram to the left, sliding the blade down. Where is it coming from?! He twirled Gram in both hands, pushing the edge with his armored hand towards Siegfried’s neck.

Siegfried’s left foot stepped outside Odin’s, slipping him outside as another attack cleaved through the valley floor and mountainside. He slammed his shoulder into Odin, pushing him back. His left foot spun on its ball, and he thrust at Odin’s armpit.

Odin panicked and lowered his shoulder, letting the blade glide against his pauldron and the back of his neck. He leaned left and rammed his shoulder into Siegfried’s chest. He tumbled back as Odin twisted and thrusted Gram.

Not bad! Siegfried parried the thrust away as another hole bore through the mountains. He swung again. “Got to admit, you’re kind of scary!”

Odin stepped back and took Gram in both hands. He could feel something trickling from his neck into his armor.

Suddenly, he smiled. That wicked smile, hidden by Egil, set Siegfried’s hair on end.

“I do not understand your power, but it makes sense! Only someone like you could bear the might of our Runes!”  

Siegfried took a few steps and stopped, both in each other’s range. “Someone like you would never understand where my power comes from, but I’ll take the compliment!”

The ground around Odin cracked and crumbled. “It has been too long since I crossed swords with someone of your caliber!” He twitched and shook. “I bleed! Only one, one, ever achieved that distinction!”

“There’d be more of us if you weren’t trying to kill us all!” He rushed Odin, thrusting his sword. Odin sidestepped, but Siegfried stopped mid-dash and redirected his attack.

Odin slipped under it, but the sword already returned and thrust again. He’s picking up speed! He ducked and weaved around two thrusts. He stepped back, but Siegfried kept pace with him. Four more thrusts. He’s as fast as Metatron— One thrust grazed his neck and another his cheek. No, faster! Gram bolted out as Siegfried stabbed, grazing Siegfried’s collarbone.

Cripple him and end this! The other voices roared.

Odin sighed. Damn you all. He vanished before Siegfried’s thrust pierced his eye.

“Wha—” Siegfried performed a perfect split just as Gram slashed at the back of his neck. Siegfried thrust back, but Odin jumped away.

Calm yourself! The other voices spoke. We cannot kill him! He is necessary for our return!

“What a shame…” Odin whispered, standing tall. “Our goals hinder me. What I would give for a battle to the death with you. I am, once again, denied a worthy foe.”

He dodged and countered even that?! Odin thought. “Siegfried!”

“Not in the mood to tal—!” He answered, closing the split.

“You and Hades are strong! Strong enough to deserve existing! If I allow you to keep Brünhilde, will you join us?!”

He stopped, staring incredulously.

“Keep? Don’t make her sound like a pet!”

“’Pet?’ No. Gods are beneath even that. Just like then, they are nothing more than failed experiments of the soft-hearted. Why humor a species that couldn’t survive on its own, Siegfried? Because they exist? Nonsense.”

Gram started glowing.

“They could not survive us without Gǫllnir and his weak-willed band pitying them. Which reminds me.”

“Wait!” Siegfried roared. Suddenly, Brisingamen’s stars rushed from Odin’s chest, blocking him.

“I brought silence to cities with just a word, Siegfried. I’ll make sure to spare her…if she’s strong enough.”

“NO!”

“Then join us.”

Siegfried froze.

“You made your choice. Yggdrasil: Vöxtr”

A radiant force erupted from Gram, flying towards the sky. It branched out into countless beams of light, flying out of the valley and illuminating the pair.

“No….no HILDEEEEE!”

Odin lowered and pointed Gram at Siegfried. “Now, where were-”

“Persephone-Atlas,” An echoing voice spoke.

Suddenly, as the lights arched over the surrounding peaks, an unseen force smashed down on all of them, pushing them into the range.

The floor under Odin bubbled and rumbled. Heat permeated and smoke rose from below as Brisingamen rushed back to him. Siegfried felt something pull him on his back, and he flew away.

“Persephone-Typhon.”

Lava burst out of the ground, enveloping Odin and flooding the valley.

“What’s happening?!” Siegfried yelled. He slowed down, landing on a mountain spur.

“Didn’t mean to pull you so hard,” A familiar voice said. Siegfried turned around, finding Hades. “It’s my first time using a Völund.”

“Hades?! How?!”

“I should ask you the same, but for another time.”

Odin roared below them. Lava sprayed everywhere as he rose out of the pooling lava, His lower half covered in burns and melting armor. Draupnir’s spectral arms snaked out of his back and rested on top of the lava, instantly cooling and forming a platform for Odin.

“How is he still alive?” Siegfried asked.

“The Treasures of Calamity: The branching Sword Gram, able to decimate the landscape with a swing or thrust. Draupnir, the Bracelets able to alter the structure and state of anything it touches. Brisingamen, the ultimate shield and projectile, and Egil, the helm that amplifies or negates any force the user wishes. Such monstrous abilities, and yet they are barely a fraction of Yggdrasil’s true power.”

“That fraction was enough to survive a volcanic eruption!”

“Barely, but yes.” Hades twirled his axe. “Siegfried, hold fast for reinforcements. We will take it from here.”

Odin and Hades locked eyes.

“By the way, Siegfried. I saw your display earlier,” Hades said.

“…”

“That love you feel for Brünhilde? I can see why Týr did what he did.”

“…Huh?”

“He was lucky to have a friend like you.” Hades stepped off and dropped. He landed in the lava feet-first and walked towards Odin, his battered body illuminated by the lava’s glow.

“Interloper!” Odin yelled with multiple voices. “You dare?! After what we did to you?!”

“Of course.” Hades slammed Pisté Adelfé pommel in the magma. Hundreds of small spheres of lava shot out and floated around him like a sphere of molten stars. “Even if I take my last breath, I will not stop being the Eldest Brother and a dutiful Husband.” Telluric current sparked up from the lava, wrapping around the spheres. “Persephone-Astraeus!” The molten stars, wrapped in lightning, arched away and soared across the flooded valley.

“Useless!” Odin yelled, waving his hand to bring Brisingamen in front. The stars started vibrating. “All fail before us!”

“Really now?!” Hades twisted his free hand, and the oncoming barrage splintered apart before impact, snaking around Odin’s barrier. More electricity arched around his feet, and he shot like a bolt across the lake.

“YES!” Egil vibrated, and all the spheres broke harmlessly against his armor. “WHY DO YOU FAIL TO UNDER-“

“Reason has no place here!” Hades dropped Pisté Adelfé’s head in the lava. He skidded to a halt and swung up, sending a wave up to Odin. “Persephone-Typhon!” He crouched down and jumped straight up. A stream of lava followed him and coalesced around the axe, and immediately cooled into diamond.

“THEN DIE A FOOL’S DEATH!”

Odin moved four stars each above and below him, and all eight vibrated as the wave collided from below.

Hades took his titanic crystalline axe in both hands and swung down. “Persephone-Adamas!”

The pincer attack collided with the stars. Odin strained and bled from every opening on his face to keep the attacks from crushing him.

“This…is child’s play!” Draupnir’s arms stretched out to grab the axe head and the wave. The axe head turned to dust and crumbled while the wave cooled and broke to pieces.

“It is! Persephone-Atlas!” Gravity smashed into Odin and sent him down to the lava below. I’m going to try something, Michael. Hades thought. Can you keep the damage to the surrounding area to a minimum?

…You’re not… Michael spoke

I am. Hades aimed the axe towards the sky.

…I’m rusty, but I’ll do my best!

“Vidarr! Now!” Hades yelled as he swung down.

Back at the mountain, Vidarr appeared behind Siegfried, grabbed him, and the pair vanished. Odin exploded out of the lava lake, Draupnir freezing it around him as Brisingamen pushed it way. He snarled and looked up towards Hades…and froze.

He could see it getting closer. The small, burning speck that was flying towards him, slowly growing bigger.

Bigger.

BIGGER.

BIGGER!

“You are insane!”

“I said it once! I’ll say it again! Reason has no place here! Persephone-Atlas!” Gravity slammed him down again. Egil vibrated, and Odin slowly rose.

“Persephone-Aegis!” The decimated mountains surrounding them grew and rose towards the sky. And now…”

Vidarr appeared in the air next to him, nose pouring blood, and grabbed him.

“Persephone…Diáttōn Astḗr.”

The pair vanished.

The meteor flew into the gaping maw of the mountains, blocking out the sunlight. Only the lava’s glow gave Odin enough light to see the oncoming destruction.

“Daaaaaaamn youuuuuu!” They roared.

 

Hades and Vidarr reappeared several kilometers away next to their group as the meteor finally made impact. Smoke, dust, and rubble ejected towards the sky as cracks raced across the raised mountains. All of Eden shook as if the world was falling to pieces around them.

Hades! Keep it together! Michael shouted.

Hades released the axe and stabbed his hands through the dirt. He clenched every muscle in his body and felt the impact surge through his body. His cuts reopened, and blood poured from his mouth and nose. I…am not…letting this happen… He thought.

“Arthur!” Vidarr yelled. “We need you over here now!”

Arthur and Set raced over to the pair. Arthur knelt beside Hades and placed his glowing hands on him, trying to keep him together.

The earth continued to shake and rumble. Vidarr and Set watched as the mountain range crumbled and broke, falling away as chunks of the meteor rained down on the land. Lava poured out through the mountains’ cracks and onto the fields and prairies.

Hades continued to push back against the necessary destruction. The force he wrought was to stop a greater threat than even his father. The world slowly went dark and quiet, and he collapsed. The axe vanished, and Michael lay sprawled out next to him, unconscious.

The destruction that pair created…came to an end. The shaking stopped. The lava cooled and began to smolder. A massive dust cloud hung in the air. The rock slides and rubble still rolled, but the worst of it finally stopped.

Or so they thought. Something darted out of the cloud and landed atop the rubble. Set and Vidarr could barely see it, but they both felt it.

“There…there’s no way,” Set whispered. “That could have killed Ra!”

“How did they survive that?!” Vidarr shouted.

“Primordial Gods are a different breed, you two,” Arthur said, focusing on Hades. “Even with all that, nothing’s guaranteed.”

“Then what do we do?!”

“Nothing. It’s not our fight anymore.” Arthur looked back to the dust cloud. “It’s theirs.”

 

Odin, covered in dust, burns, and missing pieces of armor, walked towards the decimated prairie. Egil still rested on his head, now covered in cracks.

“When…we find them,” He uttered. “We will…make them wish we killed them…” They wore us down. We cannot keep this level of effort up.

Cowards! A familiar voice spoke. You are the bringers of destruction, and you worry about a war of attrition?!

Silence.

The voice vanished.

He is no use to us anymore. This vessel will reach its limit soon…

Odin looked ahead and came to a stop, snarling.

Standing opposite him, several meters away, were Siegfried…and Metatron.

“Sir, you were right,” Siegfried said. “Not even that would put him down.”

“It did not before, and I doubted it would work,” Metatron answered. “But I am glad to see Hades proved me wrong.”

“You…” Odin snarled. “Where’s your other half?”

“Not needed anymore.” Metatron took a deep breath. “Just like you.”

“We…are done with this.” Odin brandished Gram as Draupnir’s arms appeared behind him.

“So are we. Siegfried.” Metatron extended his hand. “Time to put an end to this, and I don’t believe anyone else, but you, should do it.”

“Sir.” Siegfried extended his sheathed sword, and Metatron gripped it. Bright light shone from the union.

“I am sorry it took me so long to get back here, son.” The light grew brighter, enveloping them. Odin rushed in, swinging Gram.

“You're right on time...but Hilde will be upset! Kind of comes with the territory!”

“Let us get back to her then.”

 

VÖLUND!

 

 

Pandora excitedly jumps for joy as the round comes to a close, her long golden locks fluttering perfectly around her. “We won! We won! Icarus! WE WON!”

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She jumps at the young winged boy next to her.

Icarus barely manages to get his hands out of his pockets and brace for the hug to not knock him to the floor, wrapping his slightly charred wing around them both.

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“Oof!” He grunts as he holds her steady and sets her down. “We did! We definitely won. Again,” He sets her down gently and smiles, moving some of her blonde floor-length hair out of her face. “But that will mean…”

Pandora’s cute face of excitement slightly drops. “... He’ll get more aggressive, I know…” She looks across the arena, seeing Ra sitting on his pyramid throne, his finger impatiently tapping on the side of it.

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Pandora gulps but tries to scowl back. Icarus fluttering his wing in front of her. “Don’t engage with him. Let’s just go and find out who we want to send next, alright?”

Pandora nods quickly as the two make their way towards the Akashic Records.

Ra glances up at the two greeks. “So, Little Pandora. You are more prepared than you appear. Osiris,” He commands and the short green-skinned man appears beside him. 

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“Yes, Lord Ra?” 

“It seems they have some awareness of whom I have been sending out.”

“I-I can ASSURE you, Lord Ra! I would never DARE betray you and give such vital information out!” 

“Quiet. I am aware. You are no fool. However… it appears our… back-up will suffice.”

Osiris’s eyes widen briefly before squinting again and letting on a smug smirk. “Oh? The one I suggested, perhaps?”

“As much as I dislike his kind… yes. They dare steal the shine of the sun as though it is their own. Move it along, Osiris.”

“... you’ll be pleased to know, Lord Ra. He has been in the arena all this while, spectating.”

“I know. Go inform him.”

“Yes, Lord Ra,” Osiris crosses his arms over his chest and warps away. He reappears in front of a VIP viewing area and enters. “My lord. Your- hmm? Where… did he go? Oh this is not good…”

Pandora and Icarus enter the Akashic Records, finding someone standing in front of their screen. “HEY!” Icarus erupts and springs into the room. “What do you think you’re doing!?” He calls out and the person turns to face him, his golden eyes with black eyeballs glimmering in the darkness of the room.

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‘Those eyes look like-’ Icarus takes a swift kick at the person. 

“Woah woah hold on one moment,” He raises one bare arm, blocking Icarus’s kick, the young Cretan following up with a second, which also strikes the young god’s arm, and a third straight kick when he lands, for extra strength, the person is flung back but recovers very easily. “I apologize for intruding. I simply… I may have gotten a little overzealous after watching these great matches. Oh how I long for this field of Ragnarok myself!” He clenches his fists tightly. 

Pandora turns on the light in the room and is promptly blinded by the man before them who practically glows in the light. Flowing white hair, the aforementioned black eyeballed eyes of pure golden irises. A handsome young face without so much as a dimple let alone a scar. A strange bramble-like necklace around his neck. A simple white tunic spun from equal parts Asgardian silk and steel threads. A short battle skirt and decorative shoulderpads. He is nearly bearfooted only wearing some plain white ankle sleeve. He fidgets with a golden ring on his finger briefly before stepping forward and kneeling down in front of Pandora. “My lady, Pandora. It is an honor to meet you.”

Pandora blushes as he takes her hand and kisses it before gently touching it to his forehead. Icarus clears his throat. “Before you get any funny ideas… mind explaining exactly why you’re here in the HUMAN’S side, Baldr?” The young god stands and looks deep into Pandora’s eyes for a few moments before turning to Icarus.

“Funny ideas?” He looks between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Apologies, Icarus. I am not interested in stealing your woman,” He says with a bright smile.

Both Icarus and Pandora instantly get red in the face and start stuttering over each other. “W-we’re not-” “That’s not- No it’s like- I mean-” “W-we’re just-”

Baldr chuckles softly. “Ah. I see. Not quite there yet.”

“Yet!?” Icarus blurts out and crosses his arms. “A-anyways, Blade! What do you want!? Why are you here?!”

Baldr holds up his hands in defense. “I understand the suspicion, my friend. However, fret not. I have no intent of dishonesty. It is unbecoming. I simply wish to participate in Ragnarok. For the gods of course!”

Pandora takes a step back. “S-so you’re with RA!?”

“I would not say so. I am with Heaven. I am with Asgard! I am here for THEM and not any god in particular. But please. PLEASE choose a warrior befitting to face me, Pandora. I wish for a grand fight for the ages,” He takes Pandora’s hands in his own, flashing his handsome smile. “Promise me? Please?”

Pandora’s eyes are wide in confusion and her cheeks flushed from this handsome god making so many gestures towards her. Icarus grabs his wrist and yanks him away from Pandora.

“You’re making her uncomfortable, pal.”

Baldr nods as he looks back to Pandora. “He is a good man, this one. You chose a strong boyfriend,”

Icarus furrows a brow again. “I told you I’m NOT her boyfri-” He’s interrupted when Baldr puts a finger over the Cretan’s lips.

“Ssssssh. It’s okay. I understand.”

Pandora steps away from Baldr as if to create some distance before she speaks. “I… promise that I will choose a fighter who can and WILL win against you!”

Baldr blinks in confusion. “Oh? Those are some pretty big words, Little Pandora,” He says with a slight head tilt towards her. “I know you mean no harm but… making promises you cannot keep is not very nice,” His tone, despite being as chipper as before, seems to almost take on a sinister undertone. Icarus is quickly in front of Pandora again.

“I think it’s about time for you to LEAVE, Baldr.”

His attitude immediately drops back to where it had been prior. “That was all you needed to say! See you for the ninth round. Good luck!” He steps out of the room, closing the door behind himself, letting out a heavy sigh as his face falls a bit from the handsome bright smile into a slightly more worried expression. “I hope… I will not be disappointed,” He claps his hands and brings his smile back to his face. “NOW! Where is that Osiris?”

Inside the Akashic Records, Icarus has his arms crossed, tapping his foot in annoyance. “What do we do, Pandora? Can we even trust that he was telling the truth? He was not on Ra’s list we got our hands on.”

Pandora paces back and forth a little in the room. “I… I think we can trust him. I mean… I mean it’s BALDR right? Everyone knows Baldr.”

“Yeah… But we also know RA. He might be tricking Baldr into messing with us? Without intending to actually let him fight.”

Pandora gulps. “I-I want to trust Baldr. And because of that we need someone else than those we’ve picked… I think I know who too,” She gulps. “Y-you’re um… you’re gonna have to go meet him with me though.”

Icarus raises an eyebrow. “Is he dangerous?”

“N-not to us… just… scary.”

A short while later, Osiris is wandering around the arena, nervously thinking out loud. “Where IS that Baldr? He could not have gone far, knowing the next round is soon…” He looks down a hallway, leading to the humans’ side of the arena. “... Surely Baldr would not be foolish enough to go there?” He starts before suddenly seeing two tiny white beads down the hall covered in shadows. “Hmm… who goes there?” He summons his sickle and flail, holding the former out in front of him.

“Hm!?” The beads suddenly set off, a human stepping out of the shadows. His dark skin covered in white markings. A harness of ritualistic pearls covering his extremely thin torso. A cloak made of a wolf-hide over his shoulders with the stuffed head on one shoulder. A pitch black mask with white writing going over one of the eyes on his face, obscuring everything but his mouth and piercing white eyes. He has small decorative pieces of metal on his skirt, feathers on a band around his shin and dirty worn down black shoes made of another animal skin of some kind.

https://preview.redd.it/1swmaagr34ih1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=8e8c2cef10ab782b6fbdccd59ef57c30ab0aee75

He moves incredibly fast and Osiris takes a swing at him.

“Don’t underestimate the Duat’s royal advisor, pest!” However as he swings he finds his footing completely removed as the tall thin man suddenly went into an incredibly low dive for his legs. Osiris quickly crosses his arms and warps himself a little bit away to escape. “Don’t think it will be tha-” However somehow the man is already in front of him again and throws a wild haymaker straight at Osiris’s face sending the short god flying down the hall, and on the floor as the man approaches him with slow predatory steps. “What… are you?”

“... Human.”

Osiris wipes his lip of blood. “... doubt that…” As the man leaps at him for a grab Osiris warps himself away from the area completely.

“... hnnngh…” The man grunts in anger. His ear twitches as he hears footsteps from the hallway he just came from. He turns slowly with a menacing glare. Icarus steps out of the shadows alongside Pandora.

“H-hello um…” Pandora starts as the man approaches them.

“You… smell of the enemy…” He grinds his teeth a little. However as he steps closer Icarus gets in front of Pandora holding his wing out. “... Step aside.”

“Over my dead body, pal.”

“... …” The man raises his fist slowly.

“S-sir… we are here to offer you the next fight in Ragnarok!” Pandora offers and the man seems to get a glint in his beady eyes and he lowers his fist again.

“... okay then,” He says blankly.

Pandora nods. “You’ll need a weapon. Here,” She moves apart her dress at her stomach, revealing the swirling mass in her belly. The man looks strangely at Icarus who nods before he plunges in his hand and yanks out a key. The head is a spiky sun with the teeth shaped as black feathers. Icarus squints at the sun iconography on the key as Pandora steps back and summons her ornate box, which the masked man inserts the key into the keyhole and it opens. The three of them look inside to see what weapon the box manifested for him. He pulls out a serrated flint knife with a leather handle, a small gleaming feather on the bottom of the handle. 

“Hm,” The man grunts as he fashions a holster for the knife on his belt and starts striding towards the arena in silence.

Icarus shivers a bit as he so calmly leaves. “That guy… are you sure, Pandora? I mean yeah I guess he’s… intimidating but… can he do it?”

Pandora can do nothing but nod. “He can. He’s done it before.”

-Valhalla Arena-

Heimdall grips his Gjallarhorn and raises it to the skies. “WELCOOOOOOME Back everybody to humanity’s last stand! RAGNAROK! After the whirlwind of emotion that was the eighth round the scores are all tied up again 4-4! And with this we’re ready to begin the ninth round! And who better to present for Heaven than THIS GOD!” He gestures to the gate of Heaven, where a faint glow emits. A few goddesses around the arena gasp. Humans as well. 

“No don’t tell me it’s him?!” 

Heimdall nods. “Your eyes do not deceive you gods and goddesses, ladies and gentlemen! For eons gods have debated about the rules of what it truly means to be divine. Is it the supreme beauty of the likes of Aphrodite or Apollo? Is it the immense might of gods such as our chiefs in Ra, Thor or Zeus!? Perhaps it simply requires you to be beloved by man and god alike such as the case of The Buddha or our very own Heracles, may he rest in peace! I am here today to tell you, YES! The measure of a god is nothing but his reputation! And amongst all the citizens of Asgard, nay in ALL of Heaven! Few gods can claim to match this god in good graces and nobility!” Baldr steps out into the arena, now equipped with a large round shield and spear holstered on his back. 

“A physique that can match his eldest brother in combat! Skill to rival even the most proficient weaponmasters of Heaven! And beauty. In SPADES!” Baldr gives a gentle wave to the crowd making the women swoon with joy on either side of the arena causing the young god let out a soft chuckle.

“I truly wish they would stop doing that when I greet them… But here we are…” Baldr spreads his arms out, basking in the sunlight and taking in a deep breath.

“When he steps upon the battlefield beware! For he is undefeated! And be even more aware for it is NOT from lacking strong opponents! I present to you, dearest esteemed audience! Heaven’s Champion of the ninth round of the second Ragnarok! The Great Prince of Asgard! HEAVEN’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR! THE CHILD OF LIGHT! BAAAAAALDRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!” The crowd erupts into cheers as nature goddess toss roses and flowers into the arena to shower upon him and Baldr simply laughs and waves.

“Oh please. Please you all. It is too much,” He sighs with a head shake. “But I will happily accept your feelings. Thank you. Now… I must focus on my opponent ahead, please.”

Heimdall shudders as he reads who the human fighter is. “Oh god…” He gently shifts himself towards Baldr. “For humanity! In elden times, long before the English colonized North America, the proud people of the Navajo prospered in their lands! Clans upon clans tightly knit as families who value honor and discipline and togetherness! It mattered not if you were blood or not. For you are kin to your clan! All except for one!” The creepy slender man slowly enters the arena and stops right at the exit, glaring Baldr down. “A man so dangerous. So volatile. So violent. That no amount of pride in your tribe could justify allowing him near your children! Your loved ones!”

He steps further into the arena, his mere step making Heimdall scoot further back. “Born into the world with no father, he and his brother were outcasts from birth! And soon enough exiled to the wilds to fend for themselves! HOWEVER! To the Navajo he is a man of extreme renown regardless however! Saving their savage lands from all manners of beasts, monsters and even GODS. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. For your ninth champion you have been granted a human who, in his mortal days, has killed GODS.”

The man stops at the mirror position to Baldr, not moving, simply standing, slightly hunched over, staring blankly at Baldr. “Heaven! I give you your ninth enemy of this second Ragnarok! Will he be enough to slay the god who cannot be harmed!? PRESENTING! The Legendary Navajo! THE SCOURGE OF THE AMERICAN MONSTERS! THE MONSTER SLAYER! NAYENEZGANIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!” 

Nayenezgani’s eyes do not waver from Baldr whatsoever, Baldr looking him up and down with an amused grin. “Greetings fellow Ragnarok Champion. What say you to a glorious battle?”

“...”

Heimdall gulps. “W-well… BEGIN!” He calls out and sprints to the edge of the arena to get some help climbing into the stands where he has a little booth to sit in.

Baldr takes out his spear and shield, raising them into the air before casually dropping them to the floor. “Come, Nayenezgani. Show me what you can do. But be warned. I will not go easy on you… well… I will not go AS easy on you!” He steps forward, holding out his arms as Nayenezgani glances down at the discarded weapons for only a brief moment.

Then he sets in motion himself, striding towards his opponent. Baldr sees him raise his arms as he approaches looking almost like a zombie shambling forward. The two get within arms reach and Nayenezgani grabs for Baldr’s throat, the child of light taking a swing with his fist at the Navajo monster slayer! A direct blow to the head! To any ordinary man this would have killed him. To most gods it would have shoved them back and away… but to Nayenezgani it did neither, as he gets a hold of Baldr’s throat pressing his thumbs into Baldr’s Adam's apple and toppling him through sheer force, combined with Baldr’s surprise at his own ineffective strike. The arena is stunned silent at the display. “W-what… are you…?” Baldr grunts as he feels the air slowly leaving his lungs! As he attempts to wiggle out of Nayenezgani’s grasp the Navajo pins his legs with his own bent knee over them both to keep him from moving.

Nayenezgani stares blankly into Baldr’s eyes, an indifferent stare. “... human.”

Nayenezgani vs Baldr

Thoth and Dante face off once again, with Thoth holding forward his Breaker Palm once again. “Let us continue then. I require something from you, human.”

Dante scoffs as he splits the cross in two, one of the pairs becoming a thinner rapier blade this time, while the other remains as a cross. “You require my death, is it? Well that simply CANNOT happen! Or I am not the main character of Ragnarok!” He rushes forward, thrusting with his sword at Thoth who blocks it calmly with his palm, the blade not strong enough to pierce Thoth’s hand.

“You misconstrue my words. Do you ever listen?” He reaches for his book with his free hand, only to hear a cracking sound. DIVINITY: PIERCING AFTERLIGHT! He feels a prick in his palm and swiftly zips backwards looking down at his breaker palm… it’s cracked. He focuses his attention to the tip of Dante’s blade, seeing the glow at the tip of his rapier. “Hm.”

Dante is quickly on the attack again, Thoth only just managing to refresh his Breaker Palm on the book’s page. “You will not escape, fiendish god!” 

Thoth swerves to the side to avoid Dante’s thrusting attack, grabbing hold of the sword with his breaker palm, clenching it to snap it, but… “The malfeasant librarian finds that his previous attack has no effect! Now that the ever-prodigious Dante Alighieri has stopped holding back and is using his fullest potential! IT SHALL NOT WORK AGAIN!” He swings his blade to force Thoth back again, thrusting his cross forward and it blasts a cross of light at Thoth.

Thoth manages to dodge, but steps back again. “It didn’t work… the Breaker Palm…” If the Breaker Palm is now too weak to break the cross… then the countermeasure he made won’t work. It used the Breaker Palm as the base… 

He looks down at his palm briefly, his visor bringing up a screen with something resembling code on it. “...” He starts tapping away at the screen. 

Dante, not giving him the time of day attacks again. “What are you scheming you charlatan!?” He thrusts at the air and his rapier blasts a bullet of the blue energy out. Thoth dodges once again, but Dante is getting in close. Thoth brings one hand behind his back, the screen following it and he keeps typing as he uses the breaker palm to deflect Dante’s attacks. “Surely you cannot be thinking you will defeat ME one-handed!?” 

Thoth’s eyes are darting around as his visor projects ‘prediction lines’ onto Dante. Showing him where the next attack is likely to come from based on traditional fencing forms and data collected previously in the fight. The strikes he cannot dodge he deflects. He cannot keep this up for long. His attention is being divided too… “Grr…” He misses a deflect and barely manages to get his body out of the way of being impaled, getting a shallow cut on his side. He tries to zip back, but as he does Dante raises his cross. DIVINITY: HEAVEN’S MINE!

Thoth looks down just in time to notice a cross on the ground. He left this here earlier? Before he can finish the thought it explodes with the blue energy sending Thoth flying into the air and he crashes against the wall. “BoT… Did you get the data you needed from that?” He grunts as he steps out of the hole in the wall. His book flips a few pages and he holds his hand down to his cut. Hardlight lasers shoot from his finger-tips and patch up the wound. 

“Yes Thoth. Divinity signature memorized. If you can-” 

Thoth grunts. “Yes. Give me a moment,” He takes a deep breath.

“A neat and convenient trick, god! But will it be enough!?” Dante swings the cross with fervor and it blasts several small energy-crosses out at Thoth, who skits towards Dante, dodging each one with relative ease. “You may wish to engage me two-handed! Or ELSE!” Dante swings his rapier, and mid-swing it grows into the massive two-handed sword he was using before. 

“Here you are,” Thoth answers both BoT and Dante at the same time, finally taking his hand out from behind his back. It is covered in a hard-light sphere. He grabs at it with his other hand, and stretches it as he dodges Dante’s attack! It catches Dante’s blade and traps it. Dante puts more effort into his swing and it shatters the bubble and crashes to the ground. 

“Heh. Is that the more proficient shield you can construct!?”

Thoth once more keeps his distance. “BoT. Construct new countermeasure. You have a sample of the cross’s material and the light’s energy. Make it quick.”

“Yes Thoth.”

-Palace of the Duat-

Ra swipes a servant across the room. “SILENCE! I would like you to FIX THIS! I do not CARE!” He points at his scarred eye.

The servant gulps. A medicinal healer of The Duat. “I… Nothing would please me more, Lord Ra. But it is simply… not… possible,” He starts before he is forced to his knees from the sudden increase in temperature. 

“You are useless to me then. Find me someone who can before you leave The Duat.”

“B-but Lord Ra! My family-”

“They can go with you. GO!” He slumps back in his throne, leaning a cheek on his fist annoyed. “Worthless servants…” He taps his scar. “Tsk… Icarus…”

Osiris appears behind him. “Lord Ra-”

Ra flinches slightly, but it barely shows. “Osiris. I am in no mood. What do you want?” 

“Ragnarok is going-”

“So Round 12 has already finished. Good. Humanity’s extinction should be entertaining at least. After we send that thing in to finish it.”

Osiris gulps. “Actually, Lord Ra…” Osiris holds out an Oracle Sphere and the view of the arena pops up. “Lord Thoth is still going.”

Ra scoffs. “Truly. Why would I expect anything different?” He grunts and glances at Dante as the human lunges at Thoth. “Dante. A thorn in the side of Heaven’s history.”

“Lord Ra?” 

“Silence. I do not care to explain it to you, Osiris. Thoth is struggling with this? Perhaps I overestimated him.”

Osiris rubs his hands together and forces a smile. “W-what makes you say that, Lord Ra? I have been watching… that Dante has some powerful abilities that defy his human nature.”

“... what?”

-Valhalla Arena-

Dante strikes with his massive blade once again. As Thoth puts a hand out to deflect it, the human switches to a thrust of his cross, blasting Thoth back with the bright light of Divinity. 

Thoth steadies himself and reaches for his book flipping to a new page, while Dante starts to monologue about… something. “BoT.”

“Countermeasure: 30%. Further analysis indicates Dantenergy has reached its limit.”

“30%...? Tsk… Search for any matches for this energy signature in Heaven… and Earth.” 

“Yes Thoth. Assigning priority: 2.”

Thoth taps his index and middle fingers against the page he flipped to. BASIC BATTLE TACTICS: WORD BULLET! The symbol on the page spreads onto his fingers, covering them in hieroglyphs. 

Thoth stabs at the air with his fingers, sending a pulse out into the air. STRIKE! Dante smugly swerves aside, running a hand through his hair. “Oh the folly of you! Interrupting my speech, are we? And now you too employ ranged attacks. It may seem we are evenly matched!” He points his cross forward. DIVINITY: HEAVEN’S BLINDING GLORY! The cross erupts out with a stream of light, blinding Thoth first and then pushing him back. “That assumption would be fallacious.”

Thoth holds his Breaker Palm out to block the stream of power. “We are by no means… even. BoT. Inscribe Pierce with this light!”

“Yes Thoth,” Thoth tightens his fingers as he stabs forward. PIERCE! the light column is split down the middle as the bullet begins to spin like a drill. Dante however, cannot see this from his position until the bullet blasts past him, followed closely by Thoth who grabs the cross tightly.

“The author is shocked. How did his opponent close the distance so-” Thoth strikes him in the chest with his breaker palm, sending him tumbling back with a huge palm-print on his chest.

“Do you EVER shut up…?” He says and Dante gets up and dusts himself off.

“And here I thought you were so urbane and pacificatory. Turns out you have a mean streak. Hmm?” He looks at Thoth who seems to be holding something. “Hey that is-” 

Thoth holds out a bandage, scanning it over with his visor. “BoT. Preliminary analysis. Does this match the one back at Babel?” 

“Scanning… … Yes, Thoth.” 

Dante springs forward. “Give that back, you stickyfingered pilferer!” He forms two huge blades from his cross, coating them in Divinity. MORTALITY + DIVINITY: WHEEL OF HEAVEN AND EARTH! He twirls in the air, striking both blades down at Thoth! 

Thoth’s focus shifts to Dante and he dodges back but as Dante strikes the ground he leaps into the air once again for a second spin. This time the spinning extends using the Divinity’s light. Thoth responds by setting into a full run, for the first time, running backwards, carried away faster using his footholds. “BoT.”

“Countermeasure at 58%.”

Thoth scoffs again, pocketing the bandage in his book. “Have you tested the V2 I sent?” 

“Yes Thoth. It should hold.”

“Should?” 

“Probability of failure: 1.7%.”

Thoth slams his hands down on the book’s open pages. BASIC BATTLE TACTICS: CHAPTER 3: BREAKER PALM V2! The glow is now more blue-tinted like the glow of Dante’s light. Thoth continues to step out of Dante’s range. He holds his hands out catching Dante’s blade, though the force overpowers him and it slides out of his grip. “TCH!” 

However he simply tries again. Same result. “The folly of Heaven! Thinking your primitive tactics will work if you simply do them again and again!” However as Thoth tries one final time Dante finally stops in his tracks and the wisdom god clenches his fists, cracking and shattering the blades. 

Thoth repeats his earlier movement, grabbing the shards with his hard-light tendrils and launching them back at Dante! “the main character of Ragnarok however, is swift and agile! He dodges with the finesse of the finest dancer of Italia!” He manages to dodge each shard, striking a pose between each movement. “However… Virgil… it appears we are in trouble…” He mutters.

He glances to the side, seeing a young man his own age. Dressed like him but in blue with short-cut blonde hair with blue highlights. His forearms covered in bandages, the ends of which flow in the wind. His right eye has a strange glow to it and he is also adorned with a wreath like Dante, only his is sparkling white. 

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“Hmpf! This mere god thinks himself more powerful than YOU? The almighty Dante? How foolish and absurd. Why it is bringing my powers of Blinding white to a boil. I am… haaah,” He scoffs and grabs at his wrist. “I may just unleash my might upon him. But nay. This fight… I leave to you, my friend,” Dante grins and summons his sword and coats it in the blue light once more. 

“Of course! He shan’t succeed!” 

Thoth squints as he looks at Dante’s eyes very briefly shift. “BoT. Pinpoint where he was looking?” He commands, glancing in that general direction of the audience. It is the Heavens’ side of the arena. Could he possibly- 

“Focus based on eye-line of both eyes is right beside him. Not nearly in the audience.”

Virgil tenses up a little as he looks to Thoth, from his over-the-top posing. ‘Is he… looking at me? Can he… see me?’ 

Dante leaps into action and Thoth swiftly focuses back to the fight. “Where are you looking!? It is I who is your opponent! But by all means! Simplify my victory!” Dante exclaims slamming the blade at Thoth who grabs it, but before he can crush it Dante lets it go, creating another from the cross in his opposite hand. MORTALITY: FURY OF AN ARMY OF THOUSANDS! He slams the second sword at Thoth, who grabs it with his other hand, but Dante repeats the process as Thoth crushes the first blade finally, reaching around for the next. Then next. Then next.

“This is ridiculous… you think you will simply… get lucky?” 

“It is not luck!” Dante declares as another blade shatters! He swings another two-handed greatsword with ferocious power, but as Thoth tries to grab it Dante lowers his swing into a footsweep! “It’s an eventual-” however he pauses as he misses his sweep, his feet swinging right under Thoth’s as he floats just a few off the ground. “Oh… right. Heh-” he starts before Thoth grabs the new blade and palm-strikes Dante back, with more power than before.

Dante flies across the arena and slams against the wall, Thoth shattering the blade and shooting the shards at him, pinning him to the wall by catching the sides of his shirt. “Stay still now.”

“Countermeasure ready, Thoth.” 

“Deploy,” His books shoots out another small disk, this one more blue-tinted and with a small plus on top. Thoth moves in while Dante recovers and tosses it at Dante’s cross. Dante clenches the cross and it fires a beam at the disk, but the plus extends out and the beam dissipates as if being magnetized towards the points and loses all its power. The disk attaches and to the cross again. “And you are certain you have missed nothing?” Thoth grabs at Dante’s coat, picking out another bandage.

Dante slowly comes to, shaking his head. “Hey… that’s mine. You know… it’s not very karmic to steal. They have an entire ring in Hell for thieves.”

Thoth grunts. “Pardon my bluntness, but Muspelheim prison is for humans only. And I do not consider this theft. You are not supposed to have these.”

Dante wrestles himself free from the shards pinning him to the wall as Thoth grabs another bandage. He points the cross at Thoth’s head. “GIVE THOSE BACK! DIVINITY: LIGHT OF KING’S HEAVEN!” However Thoth doesn’t even flinch as the disc that attached, has wrapped itself around the crystal in the crosspoint of the cross and simply absorbs and disperses the light. “W-what?” Thoth palmstrikes him back into the crater in the wall.

“Were you not paying attention? I did this before as well. Whatever. BoT. Begin analysis of these. Also double-check countermeasure.”

“Countermeasure holds. Analysis beginning.” 

Thoth turns to walk away.

Up on the top of the stage sits Michael, looking down on the fight as Friend is next to him, biting into one of his nails. “That librarian. He is quite dangerous, is he not, my friend?” 

Michael nods. “His powers of adaptation are second to none. That book of his is a marvel. I cannot fathom that he created it himself. I could never…” He sighs. 

“I am certain you could. But those bandages… I would… prefer if he did not have access to them…” 

Michael smiles softly. “I will check if he will hand them over…” 

“Good- I mean… thank you, friend. Now… that damn Virgil…” He grumbles the last part.

“Hmm? Did you say… something?” 

“Nothing aaaaaat all.” 

Down in the arena, Virgil kneels down next to Dante after looking up at Michael and Friend. “Dante… Dante! You MUST rise! He cannot disrespect you such as this! The mighty Dante!? Not a CHANCE!” 

Dante grunts. “But… Virgil.” 

“Nay! Remember your training!? Remember your… hidden ability? The one you said you never needed to use?” 

Dante’s eyes widen and he smirks. “Ha… hahaha! OF COURSE! How could I forget! I would be remiss if I allowed you to take what’s mine.”

Thoth eyes back at him. “You said this was your ‘most powerful’. You lied?” He starts.

Dante smirks. “I would hesitate to call his hidden power of mine… fair. But since you’re forcing my hand!” He raises the cross and it erupts in brilliant flames, burning away the disk Thoth placed upon it. “We have done this twice now. Perhaps you may wish to show me some of YOUR true power, Thoth?” Dante says holding his arms to side, a cocky smirk on his face. “Or face the full brutality of Heaven-” His cross glows in the same blue as before, but stronger. “Earth-!” He enlarges the cross into the giant blade. “AND HELL!” The blade bursts into a massive flame. “Oh my Eye of Lucifer is really reacting to this one. I may not be able to contain myself!” 

“W-what is this?” Heimdall yelped, shielding himself as the battle raged on. “It seems that Yahweh’s creations are—are turning on each other! And Beowulf is not going to pass up on such an opportunity!” 

…

Archangel’s Viewing Booth

“Heh! Typical of that Heimdall.” Gabriel scoffed. “Imagine not even knowing the most basic things! And he calls himself a referee—Pathetic."

“Envy is a sin, Gabriel.” Raphael sighed. 

“Tch—! Come on Raph, you know I’d do it a hundred times better!”

Michael rubbed his brow. 

“Dammit, there those two go again. I don’t know how he did it… but that human is somehow exploiting Behey and Levey’s weakness!” 

“Oho—weakness? That sounds interesting!”

The four angels gave a start as Zeus’ wrinkled old face appeared above the balcony terrace.

“The hell are you doing, old fart! You got a death wish?” Michael yelled.

“Wrath is a sin, Michael.” Raphael repeated.

“So is eavesdropping.” Michael bit back.

Zeus pouted. “I can’t help it, now spill the tea! It’s so boring watching that brat do everything BUT fight himself. I ACHING for some entertainment!”

“Father, I MUST insist you stop leaning over the railing like that!” Ares yelped from above.

Zeus ducked out of frame and seconds later the angels felt a tremor from overhead as cracks began appearing all across the ceiling—

“That blithering old—!” Michael screeched.

The center of the ceiling caved in and Zeus’ muscular form crashed down, followed by Ares landing face-first, then Hermes nimbly on both feet.

“Hmmm… Alright Ares, I concede.” Zeus mused, shrinking back to normal. This is more convenient!”

“G-glad I could help… Father… Ughhhh~”

“Zeus.” Metatron sighed whilst Gabriel and Raphael helpfully wrangled Michael. “As carefree as always. I suppose some things will never change.”

“Well if it isn’t Metatron!” The GFOC grinned, brushing rubble off his toga. “Would you then perhaps be so kind as to catch me up to speed?”

“I suppose.” The Celestial Scribe said. 
“The first thing you must understand is that the beasts created by Yahweh’s New Genesis are not soulless drones. They can be ordered about and controlled, yes. But they are still their own sapient, sentient beings. Each time he summons them, Yahweh is not making a copy of The Behemoth or The Leviathan, rather it is the SAME creature persevering every memory and personality from its previous incarnations.”

“So…” Ares muttered. “That means Yahweh can’t just create an army of monsters and overwhelm Beowulf then!”

Metatron nodded.

“Correct, Ares. However, let there be no mistake—even Chief Gods have found themselves overwhelmed by just one of these primordial beasts, two of them would be a massecre… Usually.”

“Hmm. But this weakness Michael spoke of?” Hermes pressed.

“As I said—The Behemoth and Leviathan have fought together under Yahweh’s command in many battles. However… the two of them—Land and Sea—are still apex predators in a confined space! That is the weakness of New Genesis. After years of rivalry, should Yahweh summon more than one beast to do his bidding, it will inevitably end with infighting!”

“But this is still way too soon!” Michael said. “It usually takes a while before they start bickering, not to mention they outright IGNORED Yahweh’s command!”

Metatron mused.

“The answer I believe again, is FEAR.” He said. “Their fear of Beowulf… it has evolved. They no longer see him as a monster of equal power, rather a DANGER not worth dealing with any longer!”

Zeus turned to the arena, his eyes glinting within their sunken sockets.

“Ohohoho! I seeeeee… They’d take it out on each other before risking an attack on that human again! How innnnnnnteresting. But the laws of nature are quite plain, and that is their downfall: Fear is hesitation. Hesitation leads to weakness. And weakness—”

…

Valhalla Arena

“Quarreling at a time like this?” Beowulf breathed, drawing Eotenbana back. “And you two dolts thought you could beat me? Big—MISTAKE!!!!”

IS DEATH! 

The Monster Slayer EXPLODED forward, hoisting his sword as he dashed across the arena stage whilst the two monsters writhed violently, trapped by his blazing energy.

“H-he’s pulling it out NOW?!” A Geat cried. “The move King Beowulf used to defeat the Fire Drake!”

Leaping upwards, Beowulf’s silhouette hung, momentarily framed by the light before BURSTING forward in midair!

The Behemoth bellowed, and The Leviathan thrashed. However, it was all for naught as Beowulf swept forward, his form seeming to melt through the titans like a mirage, and in one clean strike—surged through the both of them, tearing through flesh and bone with a mighty explosion!

EOTENBANA: HOWLING BLAZER!

The writhing beast went rigid, their breath ragged as their bodies began to glow and crack. Still engulfed in the flames, they turned vitriol in their eyes as they let out one final silent roar at Beowulf before the both of them simply… disintegrated into the air.

“He… HE REALLY DID IT!!!!” Heimdal hollered. “Beowulf, The Ultimate Monster Slayer… HAS DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE!”

Still in the air, Beowulf laughed, drawing Eotenbana back again as he gazed down. Yahweh was now directly beneath him.

“GYAHAHAHA! Done? I ain’t done yet! Now that the beasties are taken care of, it's time to go after the source! Ready or not, god. Cause. HERE. WE. COME!”

“Behey… Levi…” Yahweh muttered, his head lifting to meet Beowulf’s eyes—‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’—He gritted his teeth.

“You think it’s over just cause you beat those two?! You have no idea!”

Beowulf laughed.

“Don’t I? This entire time it’s been them doing your dirty work as you cower behind them! Gods inspire, Humans desire? GYAHAHAHA! What a load of dung, don’t make me laugh!”

His entire upper body twisting as he began hurtling back down to earth. The same blazing energy erupted from Beowulf’s blade again, coated his body entirely as he fell from the sky like a fiery comet.

At the same time, Yahweh snapped out of his rut, arms stretching out, fingers curling as he seemed to gather thin air within his palms until they solidified into a visible mass. Just like before, Yahweh then stretched his arm outwards ready to snap his fingers together—“New Genesis…”—However, he paused.

‘BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’

D-dammit… I didn’t give a shit about Ragnarok before! I didn’t give a shit about humanity. And I didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought—NOT ANYMORE! But being here… with that guy, all I want is to…

In that split second before impact, Yahweh’s hand twisted inwards—SLAMMING the mass of air in his palm into his chest! The streaks of light that had heralded The Behemoth and Leviathan’s creation now shone through the lines across the God’s body, swallowing him in a blinding flash just as Eotenbana bit down!

The Jewish Aggadot: As Leviathan is the king of fishes, so is he appointed to rule over the birds… His ankles rest on the earth, and his head reaches to the very sky.

Two immense wings burst from Yahweh's back and crossed themselves forward to shield him. Beowulf's blade struck with a jolt, sinking into a surface that was somehow soft yet firm before stopping dead. As the dust settled, the arena saw a pair of colossal, orange-feathered wings sprouting directly from Yahweh's shoulders.

His wings are so huge that unfurled they darken the sun. They protect the earth against the storms of the south; without their aid the earth would not be able to resist the winds blowing thence.

Behind the God, his aura took the shape of a griffon-like bird with a hooked beak and the same blazing wings, spreading them with the majesty of a phoenix, then flexing its talons with the menace of a raptor. 

Credits: Isis Sangaré

It let out a piercing screech that heralded an eruption of wild gale as its form slowly dissolved into a swirling torrent of light that flowed back into Yahweh’s body.

“Blow him…” The God growled gutturally. “ZIZ!”

Wow, Yahweh really is going into 2ND Gear... GEDDIT?! GEDDIT?! There is no limit to the larp.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Ziz: Armament Form
(New Genesis)
The King of Birds

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The arena went silent as Beowulf raised an eyebrow “Well, I’m flattered but… I’ll pass, GYAHAHAHA!”

Behind the feathers, Yahweh furrowed his brow and cringed.

“Fuck. That came out wrong…”

Without missing a beat Yahweh unfurled his wings with a blast of wind that sent Beowulf flying backwards. The One True God ascended into the air with another beat above the arena.

‘Beo, he just—!’

“Don’t worry I saw it, Goll!” Beowulf replied, rushing back in. “Hey, god! Didja forget that I already got the gist of your moves? When you’re in the air… You’re VULNERABLE!"

The warrior jumped, spinning Eotenbana above him with a giant rotating propeller before striking from the side.

Yahweh grunted. “Back then? Yeah. But with this, now it doesn’t matter!” 

He extended a wing, the sharp feather tips at the end glinting as Eotenbana’s blade rang against them with a metallic screech, sending sparks flying in all directions.

‘Hngggh!” Goll yelped. ‘Are those really feathers?! They're tough as nails!”

Beowulf didn’t answer his partner. Instead, cocking a leg back and aiming a heavy kick towards Yahweh’s other side.

COMET AXE!

“TOO DAMN OBVIOUS!” Yahweh roared, biting back with a swing of his other wing, dislodging three feathers that whistled forward, burrowing into Beowulf’s leg. 

SHAMAYIN RAIN!

“GYAH!” the warrior winced. He’s… become a bit more proactive! “GYAHAHAHA!”

Disengaging from the bind, Beowulf leapt back to the ground, wincing as his injured leg touched the earth. He skidded across the ruined terrain, swinging Eotenbana as he prepared to unleash Thunderous Splitter.

“I told you once, human…” Yahweh growled. As his wings suddenly closed around him like a cocoon. All of a sudden, the strong gusts gathered into a pillar that enveloped the God before exploding outwards!

Beowulf gritted his teeth. The once wild and aimless winds had now concentrated and shifted into a unified current toward his right?

The very next beat, Yahweh’s form seem to move so fast he vanished for a second—

“Wait, where the hell did that guy go?!” Brunhilde yelled.

—-he reappeared, now right beside Beowulf as he unfurled his wings and BATTED the hero out of the way with a single beat! 

“With these, my weaknesses from before are all but nullified!” Yahweh declared as Beowulf slammed against the wall.

“I AM. KING OF THE SKIES!”

…

Archangel’s Viewing Booth

“Armament Form?!” Michael spluttered, leaning over the railings. “I haven’t seen that slacker use that application of New Genesis since…” l

“Armament Form? What’s that?” Ares questioned.

“It's when he finally decides to get off his lazy ass and start DOING something again. YEAH!” Gabriel interrupted with a whoop.

Raphael sighed. “Yahweh’s New Genesis creates beasts to do his bidding. But he can also take attributes of these creatures and merge them into his own body!”

“And thus, rivalry and infighting amongst constructs is negated.” Hermes concluded.

Metatron nodded. “Correct. Though the strength is not on par with the actual thing, it certainly has its benefits… It's been a while since I’ve seen that boy deem fit to utilize it again.”

Zeus cackled, clapping his hands.

“Well whatever it is, that brat’s finally making this fight interesting! It is to be expected, after all… He was once your most promising prodigy, wasn’t he… Metatron?”

The Celestial Scribe’s face darkened.

“Not in the way you are thinking of, Zeus.”

…

Valhalla Arena

Dislodging himself from the crater in the wall, Beowulf didn’t waste another second, charging forward with a huge swing!

Not to be outdone, Yahweh tucked in his wings, his now-aerodynamic body curved like a bullet and weaved through the strike with ease! 

Feeling the wind currents changed, curving downwards in a dip, Beowulf followed suit. Shifting his stance alongside his blade—just in time for Yahweh to extend a wing with the flick of his palm, its sharp feathers striking the giant edge of Eotenbana’s blade with a screech as their heels tore into the ground.

“Heh, no longer hiding, huh? But you’re still only being—REACTIVE!” Beowulf rumbled as he overpowered the clash and aimed a counterattack from below. 

Yahweh rose, somersaulting in mid-air as the winds gathered and flew out like a sharpened edge from the tips of his wing.

The two attacks met, sending out shockwaves that rippled through the air around them. Beowulf moved back, twitching slightly.

‘Beo, what’s wrong?’ Goll cried.

“Wounds acting up!” Beowulf chuckled, maneuvering Eotenbana and parrying the second wave. “Ain’t gonna lie to you, partner… this is a problem.” 

‘Huh? What do you mean?” The Valkyrie asked. “We can just cut him down like before!’

“GYAHA! You think so, huh? Well therein lies the rub, Goll… As long as he’s got those wings, I don’t think we can hit him any more.” 

“?!”

“Here, I’ll show ya…”

Beowulf spun Eotenbana, destroying the last few incoming wind-strikes instantly. He then drew it back, lowered himself into the familiar stance of—

“THUNDEROUS. SPLITTER!!!”

The slash tore through the arena towards Yahweh. Once again, the sheer blast covered the entire width of the battlefield, impossible to dodge even if one were to move to the side or up… However…

“Humans… You never listen.”

Closing his wings around himself again, Yahweh drew in the winds before directing the current upwards, LAUNCHING himself high, higher than even the height of The Thunderous Splitter! 
To avoid the unavoidable move once more, he would not lower himself like before. He would instead soar—Futher! Higher! Faster! Far beyond its reach!

“YOU’RE BENEATH ME!”

Beowulf’s attack sailed right past, just shy of Yahweh’s toes as it EXPLODED against the ground in a devastating shower. Right on cue the God’s wings curled, his form more aerodynamic as he and the wind currents blasted downwards like a bullet, flanking Beowulf‘s left side!

SHAMAYIN DRILL!

Beowulf saw it coming but there was only enough time to shield his head with his left arm—freshly wounded from the Leviathan’s fangs— and stood firm as the radiale of Yahweh’s wings dug into his muscles like a fist. Spinning, PIERCING it till his bandages tore off, and wounds, old and new, opened. But even then, Beowulf still stood!

Beneath his wings, Yahweh gritted his teeth. Even with the powers of Ziz, he simply could not match Beowulf in a contest of pure physical strength!

His rotations grinding to a halt, Yahweh spun around, kicking off Beowulf’s bloodied forearm in a massive gust—sending a second one straight into the underside of his jaws!

The warrior’s skull rang from the impact as a torrent of blood escaped his lips, but still he remained unfazed! His eyes focused and honed in as he swung—Beowulf made a giant swipe with Eotenbana—nearly catching Yahweh off guard had the currents not sent him skidding against the ground at the last moment.

…

Spectator Stands

“That God…” Breca yelled. “He managed to DODGE B-beowulf’s unavoidable attack?!”

Wiglaf growled. “If I had to guess… he’s drawing in the winds and changing the currents as he pleases with those wings, carrying himself to new heights and speeds that simply weren’t possible beforehand to reach the few blind spots Eotenbana has! Ironic… a simplistic counter plan for the simplistic nature of Beo’s attacks!”

…

Valhalla Arena

Landing down, Yahweh felt his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. 

On the other side, Beowulf lowered his ruined left arm, blood spilled from the smoking hole in his flesh and watered the ground… yet the warrior still refused to betray a single ounce of pain!

‘Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.”

“Not again…” Yahweh muttered, clutching his chest. The God rose, his spread wings were as unpredictable as the wild currents that battered them both, just where would he strike from next?

I’ve been going about this the wrong way, lowering myself to fisticuffs… When was the last time I used this? Years? Centuries? Eons? “Fufu…FUHAHAHAHAHA!” I can’t believe this… Haven’t so many other gods not been pushed to their limits by these so-called humans? Gods Inspire. Humans Desire, that is the truth—

‘And yet also… a lie.’

“Yeah. Yeaaaah… YEAH!” All of a sudden Yahweh kicked off against the ground—splintering the unstable concrete into chunks—as his wings kicking backwards on their hinges before blasting forward and sending the winds SLAMMING into Beowulf, catching him off-guard as his massive bulk was lifted into the air like a paperclip!

“If other gods had to sink this low for humans, so what if I do it too?!” Yahweh howled as he followed. “Behey, Levey, Ziz! They may have tainted their talons with that human’s blood, but my own fists remained unsullied! I bear… NO SHAME. I chase… NOTHING! I am still… THE ONE TRUE GOD! IT IS NOT—MY FAUUUUULT”

…

Humanity’s VIP Booth

Brunhilde chewed her thumb, watching her chosen sail into the sky.

“Dammit! DAMMIT! Come on, Beowulf… Goll! DO SOMETHING!”

“Haha! Geez Hilde! Getting real riled up now, ain’tcha?”

The Eldest Valkyrie turned and was greeted by a tall muscular man in a navy blue tank top, orange robes, and rose-tinted glasses. His blonde hair was tied back into a big bun, and his sharp canines chewed on a lollipop

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddha
(India)
The Honored One

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brunhilde grunted, slightly annoyed. “Lord Buddha. I didn’t expect you of all people to make a trip here.”

Buddha smirked, pointing down at Yahweh. “Had to check it out for myself. That guy down there? I don’t know anyone with bigger puberty issues than him. Speaking of which—those wings of his—real annoying, aren’t they?”

The Valkyrie twitched, dropping all formalities. “That little punk…” She snarled, wracking her head. “I DIDN'T THINK IT’D BE SO LITERAL! Whaddya mean, just one beat is strong enough to tame the wildest winds and hasten him to wherever he wishes?! What kind of bullshit is that?! ARGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!”

Buddha burst into laughter. “Fuahahaha! It takes one to know one, Brun-chan~ Your puberty is second only to his—” 

The Honoured One paused, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek as Brunhilde’s head twisted around with a murderous glare.

“Ehehe…Then again.” He sighed, folding his arms. “It’s your baby sister fighting, so I get it.”

Brunhilde exhaled. There was an awkward silence between them before she spoke.

“Can you see it? With those eyes of yours?”

Lowering his glasses, Buddha’s eyes glowed with the pattern of a chakra. From his point of view, a volatile orb glowed on the chest of Yahweh’s silhouette, moving just before the God did.

“Yep. I can see his soul moving just fine…” He answered, pushing his glasses into place. “But knowing what your opponent is gonna do is just half of it. How fast you can react, or if you can do anything at all? Now that’s a whole other matter.” 

Brunhilde's grip on the railings tightened.

“Don’t worry. If anyone can do it… I believe it’s those two.”

…

Valhalla Arena

‘Uh, Beoooo?’ Goll yelped. ‘Not to rush you or anything. But we’re really high up now!’

“Hm? Oh yeah that’s true.” Beowulf mused.

His unnatural nonchalance gave Goll pause. ‘Ok. So what's the plan now?’ 

Beowulf grinned. “Don’t got one! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” 

‘... EHHHHHHHHHHHH?!’

In spite of their king’s predicament, Hearing his familiar laughter made the Geats laugh alongside him.

“AHAHAHA! That Beowulf, same as usual! Spitting in the face of danger!”

“As long as he’s still standing strong, there ain’t nothing that can get me down!”

As he followed into the air, Yahweh gritted his teeth. The beat of his wings suddenly turned rhythmic like the palpitations of a beating heart.

‘Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’

“Those humans.” He muttered. “They don’t hear what I hear… But I know, they soon shall see what I see–”

‘BA-DOOOOM!’

The final beat echoed with chilling finality, and the arena fell silent.

Yahweh shot an arm forward and a swirling gust followed his command, catching Beowulf just before he started to descend and hurling him further into the sky. 

“You. Faith. IT IS WORTHLESS! And I shall break it, BRICK BY BRICK! MEA CULPA: REVELATION STORM!” 

His arms flung open. Two towering pillars of wind rose on either side, howling and spinning as they slowly began to move, converging at the center...

And there was no escape. 

…

“Worthless eh?... Hey, GOLL!” Beowulf bellowed.

‘Oh thank goodness, you nearly had me there for a second!’ Goll cried, manifesting in her astral form beside him. ‘What’s the plan?’

The warrior closed his eyes… then grinned. “Ain’t got one! Sometimes you just have to admit you’re licked. You’re all on your own now, Goll!

Goll stiffened, her eyes shifting through disbelief, indignation then anger.

‘Y-you’re just giving up?!’ She yelled incredulously.

Beowulf shrugged. “You tell me, partner.”

The Valkyrie fumed. ‘Don’t call me that if you’re gonna act that way! You… This is pathetic! This isn’t the Beo I know! I-if you aren’t going to think of something… I WILL! Because I WILL help save humanity!’

“Is that so?” Beowulf chuckled. “That I’d LOVE to see. GYAHAHAHAHA!”

Goll’s eyes darted urgently from side to side, searching for something… ANYTHING that could help them. But all she saw was the unforgiving blue sky above, and the looming god below.

…

Like a madman, Yahweh chanted over and over again. His eyes spinning wildly as soared past Beowulf into the sky.

“Gods Inspire. Humans Desire. Gods Inspire. Humans Desire!”

‘And if faith is a flaw, what does that make us? My better half?’ 

“Gods Inspire. Humans Desire. Gods Inspire. Humans Desire! GODS. INSPIRE. HUMANS. DESIRE!!!”

‘But of course, a failure.’

Yahweh stiffened… then became eerily calm.

Slamming his palms together, he forced the two columns into each other, merging them—one raging tornado that spun so violently it resembled an inferno—with Beowulf still trapped. Any sound made was silenced by the vacuum as it brought him higher until both fighters now hovered, eye-to-eye, prismatic white glaring into the green.

“Yessss… You’re finally seeing it my way.” The God muttered, his left arm glided smoothly over his right, then rose vertically above his head, his hand forming into a point. The tornado slowly condensed, till Beowulf was trapped in a thin pointed funnel of gale

“Heroes. Legends. No matter how great you are, you still fall. And when you do, those who cower in your shadow, they will learn the cruel hopelessness of the sky. They will realize… You are only human. What will they do then, Warrior?”

With a sharp spin of his fist, the funnel suddenly phased above Beowulf. Time seemed to stand still for a second as the warrior hovered hundreds of feet above the ground with nothing to keep him in the air and an arrow of violent gale positioned above him.

Taking a gulp of fresh air, Beowulf’s lips trembled… then formed into a smirk.

“Gee, I dunno.” He said raspily. “Ain’t it God’s who are supposed to inspire?”

Yahweh’s eyes twitched, and then he snapped his fingers.

“They are reduced… to SHAMBLES.”

Gravity took hold and Beowulf plummeted. Humanity could only watch in horror, some even averting their eyes, as their champion fell, down, down, down before smashing against the floor with an ear-splitting ‘CRAAAAAAAAAAASH!’ 

Mankind could only choke back sobs, as they saw their reliable champion lying there in a humungous crater, battered, beaten, and bruised. His bloodied chest heaved as he let out a ragged gasp.

But his ordeal was far from over.

“And now… SHAMAYIN BUSTER!”

Amidst the harsh glint of the sky, Beowulf beheld through squinted eyes, the funnel of condensed wind that was previously his prison, still floating in the sky. Before the warrior could muster even a grunt, the arrow shot down like a missile.

“Gyaha—That ain’t good…”

‘BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!’ 

As it struck Beowulf head-on, the trapped winds it held were expelled, exploding outwards across the arena. 
Gods and humans alike were thrown back against their seats, shielding their eyes as the harsh gales tore anything that wasn’t nailed down into the air.

The warrior himself let out an unearthly howl as he took on the full brunt of the attack, the winds tearing at him as he could not even move or thrash. At last they relented—disappating—and his head fell back against the ground with a soft thud.

Descending from the sky, Yahweh hovered above the fallen hero like the angel of death.

“... Unbelievable.” He muttered, hearing the sound of shallow breathing “After all that, he’s still breathing?”

…

Spectator Stands

“Dammit! No. NONONONO!” Unferth howled. “I–I refuse to believe this! The Great Beowulf couldn’t have been defeated so easily! He will—!”

“OI. GOD!” Hygelac roared, clenching his fist. “My dear nephew… he’s made of much sterner stuff than the likes of you! DON’T YOU DARE LOOK DOWN ON HIM! For he shall—!”

“They’re right!” A Roman Gladiator yelled. “It isn’t over till it's over—!”

“Beowulf-sama!” A Samurai called. “I know you can—!”

“Dammit!” Breca cursed. “If you go out like this I’d never forgive you—!”

I of all people shouldn’t do this… Wiglaf sighed. But I can’t help it… “BEOWULFFFFF! CAN’T YOU HEAR THEM?! We’re all calling for you to—”

“GET BACK UP ON YOUR FEEEEEEEEET!”

“W-what a touching moment!” Heimdall sobbed. “Even in their darkest moments, humanity still rallies behind their fallen hero! B-but… can Beowulf even hope to make a comeback after that?!”

Yahweh gritted his teeth. “Still so delusional. Piling on their stupid faith, forcing it on that damn idiot… and look where it got him!”

But then…

“Y-YEAH! D-did you all see that?!” 

A new voice echoed from the other side of the stands, the side of the gods.

“Yahweh… that was some serious stuff!” A bull-headed god gushed. “I take back everything bad I ever said about you!”

“When he puts in the work, that guy’s really no joke!” Another one chimed. “Did you hear, he was once an up and rising star in all of Heaven!”

“Really? Incredible… simply incredible!” A goddess squealed. “I never knew he held such power, that title of One True God… it kinda suits him, no?”

“BWAHAHAHA! I guess we should have never doubted you… ‘GOD’!”

All of a sudden laughter and praise flooded the air as god after god cheered for their Yahweh. However…

“Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!”

“?!” 

“I don’t want it…” Yahweh muttered. “This is wrong… You guys—you guys aren’t supposed to be cheering for a screw-up like me. STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”

As the crowd murmured in confusion, a familiar laugh wheezed from within the crater below.

“Gya—Gyaha—Gyahahaha…”

Yahweh tensed, gazing down in fury. Beowulf's eyes had fluttered open and he was laughing.

“Gyahaha—-GYAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“And just what the hell…” Yahweh breathed. “ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?!”

Beowulf weakly wiped away a tear, flashing a toothy grin.

“Oh it's nothing—KOFF!—Just that… I get it now! All that rambling going on and on about faith—Ghk!—Let me guess, god. You—Gah!—you don’t believe in yourself… not even a single lick of faith, don’tcha? GYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

At this, Yahweh’s fist clenched and the entire arena fell to silence. 

The darkness that shrouded across his face, the indescribable fury boiling deep within fierier than the pits of hell. In that moment, the thing that loomed above Beowulf looked less like God… and more like the devil himself.