WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER WITHOUT READING THE REST BEFOREHAND. MAJOR SPOILERS.
Helheim
Hades' Castle
1,000 Years Ago
Hades sat at the center of a wide, polished wooden table as he looked over a small stack of forms and scrolls. To his right was Yama, signing documents with a black-feathered pen that Hades slid his way.
"How many are we dealing with today?" Yama asked without looking away from the forms.
"It looks like a few dozen," Hades answered, signing the newest form with a white-feathered pen. "A few felonies for infractions of the Accords, and a few of them from the most recent incident on Midgard."
"Hmm," Yama uttered. "Winchester?"
"Correct." Hades pulled out his tablet and pulled up an image.
Yama went still as he stared at the screen. His thoughts raced, trying to piece together what may be coming. He looked away and resumed writing. "Do you want me to tell Xolotl?"
"I think he may already know." The room's entrance slammed open as a large figure in black fur clothes flew into the room and tumbled a few meters towards them. It came to a stop and groaned. Hades looked back at the entrance and saw Xolotl, obsidian dagger in hand, walking through, his eyes stuck in an emotionless, piercing gaze.
"Yeah, he knows," Yama added. Both Gods looked down at the black mass as it unfurled into a large, hulking God with black hair, a bushy beard and mustache, and familiar eyes. His hands were bound with chains. "Welcome, Vidarr." Yama looked back up at Xolotl. "Was he like this when he arrived?"
Xolotl shook his head.
"Did you do this?"
Xolotl reached his left hand into his wrap's pocket and pulled out his tablet. He typed with freehand and displayed the message.
Yes. Zahhak is currently Human per his punishment, and Ereshkigal shirked her responsibilities again. I processed him in.
"Looks more like you roughed him up." Xolotl's grip on the tablet tightened, cracking the screen. "Leave him and go prepare the others. And if any of them are from Winchester, don't send them in like this, or you'll be here next to them."
Xolotl locked eyes with Yama, going still. Yama began scowling and rose. Xolotl stepped back, his eyes darting in all directions before he exhaled and hung his head.
"I'll overlook it this time, Xolo. Go cool your head, then get back to work." Xolotl bowed and departed, closing the door behind him.
"Looks like they finally got you," Hades said, still looking down at Vidarr. He briefly met Hades' gaze before turning away.
Yama lifted a set of forms. "Are you Vidarr of the Norse Pantheon?"
Vidarr nodded as he stood up.
"Vidarr, you are charged by the Norse with attempted murder of a Chief God; a violation of Article 24, paragraph 18, of the Accords. You are also charged by the God's Council for violating Article 62, paragraph 4: acting out genocide without the unanimous vote of the Council. How do you plead?"
"Guilty on both," He answered.
"The former is grounds for immediate execution. Are you sure?"
"I'd rather be dead than live knowing that bastard Odin is still alive."
Hades and Yama glanced at each other, then back at Vidarr. "Well then, that settles it. To the Circles," Yama said. Vidarr looked taken aback. "I'll be honest. The Norse have a bad habit of accusing anyone of anything without substantial evidence. Apparently, Odin thinks his word is enough to sway people here. Hades, any issue with him serving time in the Circles, then joining Cerberus?"
"Cerberus? That's asking a lot. Why?"
If I told you it's because I can't stand or trust that fucking snake, Odin, then you'd shoot it down. Yama thought. Plus…I need someone with skin in the game. "The only crime we have proof of is Winchester. Other than that, we have nothing. Not even a shred of proof showing he tried to kill Odin. I think serving a stint down there, then joining Cerberus, would be a chance for him to prove he's not some patricidal madman. Plus, I need more stable Gods in Cerberus. Zahhak is only here half the time, and Ereshkigal is getting out of hand. The only reasons Tartarus isn't falling apart are Xolotl and me."
"Fair, and a valid point. Vidarr?"
Yama, what game are you playing? Vidarr thought. You know I'm not going to stop gunning for him.
Yama smiled. I bet you're thinking I don't know. He thought. Give it time. No one will know you're a member except us. That should give you the perfect chance to get at Odin. Someday.
I'll take this chance. "If it sways you two to keep me alive, I'll do it," Vidarr answered.
Hades whipped his pen across the forms and passed them to Vidarr.
"You are fined nine hundred ninety years in the Circles per Article 62's paragraph on discipline, then Cerberus if you behave."
Tartarus
The Circles
Vidarr put his two axes back together and grasped the combined axe.
He's too dangerous at close range, and the twin form is too dangerous. Skeggöld said.
Then let's crush him from a distance. Vidarr responded. Space rippled around his body. He took two steps and brought the axe high in the air.
Now, Teddy! Camael shouted. The space around his body rippled as well. Pull him in close! The swing came down, and Vidarr did not move from his spot. Teddy flinched and brought his arms up. A hard and heavy invisible force smashed down on top of him, driving his feet into the stone floor again. What?! Why didn't it work?!
Vidarr pulled the axe back to the right. Activating every muscle from his toes to his forearms, he swung. He pivoted on the balls of his feet, his knees moved in perfect sync with his hips and back. His arms stretched out, and he swung what he knew at that moment was a slash possessing all his monstrous physical strength. Strength that rivaled Thor and speed that was barely behind Baldr. Strength that slew giants and rended mountains.
Brota Tómr. Vidarr thought.
Through a mixture of panic and instinct, Teddy moved his left arm as the path of Vidarr's first swing played back in his mind. That same heavy force collided with his arm, knocking him loose and carrying him along. Vidarr finished his swing, and Teddy flew into the surrounding wall. Debris flew out onto the floor as Teddy crashed to the ground.
You got him! Skeggöld said.
Even with the extra range from your Rune, I'm not so sure about that. Vidarr responded as his hands throbbed with pain. He saw Teddy stand up and shake his head. Stubborn bastard made himself dense again. Hitting him like that hurt like hell. Vidarr swung across again. Teddy broke into a dash and slid immediately. The force flew over him and crashed into the decimated wall. He scrambled back to his feet and ran towards Vidarr. Vidarr swung to the left, then right. Teddy ducked, then jumped over the invisible force as they tried to slam into him. He's figuring out their range this quickly? Vidarr squinted. No matter. Nothing matters now. You'll see. Teddy continued running towards him, and Vidarr continued swinging. Teddy brought his arms in close, making his body compact, and continued his charge. He bobbed and weaved through the strikes, trying to make his way to Vidarr.
How's he throwing so many of these attacks, Cam?! Teddy thought as he dodged the attacks.
Skeggöld's likely keeping the power turned on. As long as she's doing that, he may be able to keep doing this infinitely. Camael answered.
Infinitely?!
Maybe. Doing this kind of spatial rending should be exhausting for him. Suddenly, the attacks stopped.
That girl's Rune is letting him act all willy-nilly. Lord's that's… Teddy stopped. Vidarr stood tall and rested his axe on his shoulder. "Damn."
The space between the two, and the meters Teddy raced through, had not changed. The attacks he avoided to keep himself in one piece carved away the wall behind him. Vidarr shot him a snide grin.
"You won't reach me. Not now, not ever," Vidarr said. "Did you know there's an old saying back home? 'To slaughter an army, send Thor. To kill one soul, send Vidarr." Vidarr began twirling the axe. "No one, and I mean no one, has ever escaped me, or caught me. What makes you think you can?"
Teddy scowled at him.
New York City
1875
Not too long ago, in the clatter and chaos of New York City's Gilded Age, a seventeen-year-old young man of prestige and suffering found himself on the receiving end of an almost daily ritual within the city's alleys: his sickly asthmatic body flailing about while he was held in place by a bigger lad. The bully gripped his hair in his left hand as the bully's gang stood around and watched in the alley.
"Oy, Teddy," The taller boy said. "The hell'd I tell you about coming around here? You posh little shit." The boy raised his right hand and swung it at Teddy. Teddy pulled his flailing left hand back and blocked the slap. "Dumbass!" He swung his hand back. "You're supposed to take it!" The lad brought his arm close and fired it straight into Teddy's face and his stomach. He felt something crack under his fist, and Teddy's nose bled. The lad released his grip on Teddy's hair as he shook his right hand. Teddy crumbled to the ground without a sound and wrapped his left hand over his nose and his right hand over his stomach. "Blue-blood spoiled shit, thinking just cause daddy's got money—"
Teddy burst up and drove his right fist into the lad's stomach and fired a left hook into his temple. The lad tumbled a few steps and slammed into the wall, bracing himself. He met Teddy's gaze, seeing the fire burning in a body it couldn't handle.
"I don't need my dad fucking money to beat the—" Teddy said, before a coughing spell struck. He lurched over and failed to see the rest of the gang walking towards him.
"Fuck 'im up!"
One of their knees hit his ribs. Another hit his thigh, and he fell. Before long, six boys were stomping and kicking him, and all he could do was curl up to protect his head. Damn it, not again! He thought.
Suddenly, a whistle rang through the air, and the kicking stopped. "You're lucky, Teddy. Come back 'round here and you're dead," A familiar voice whispered. They took off as the police officer came running down the alley. He stopped in front of Teddy, who slowly rolled onto his back.
"Kid! What the hell happened?!" The officer asked. Teddy sat up and groaned. He rolled his shoulders and stood.
"Nothing. Just nonsense between us boys," Teddy answered as he wiped his button-up's sleeve across his nose.
"And I'm a horse's ass. They could have killed you." Teddy nodded and started walking past him. "Hey, where are you going?!"
"Home. Where I was trying to go from the damn start."
That Evening
After dinner and a series of questions about his condition from his mother and older sister, Teddy walked down into his basement. In that wide room was the place where Teddy faced his greatest foe, the one who always stood in his way. Against that foe, he had several weapons: weights, calisthenics, and boxing gloves. He immediately stripped down and changed into a pair of brown shorts and a white tank top, stretched, then got to work. It was Tuesday, so Chest and Biceps. First was the bench press for building the chest. Five sets at over sixty kilograms. Then five sets of twenty push-ups, both decline and incline. His body was already sore, but it was pain he was used to.
As he worked through his fourth set of decline pushups, he heard the creak of the stairs as someone descended. He could tell who it was by the cadence and refused to look up. His chest began tightening like earlier, but he pushed through the last rep as the source came closer. He pulled his feet off the bench and stood, letting out a few coughs into his hand. Standing in front of him was a man with a beard and a moustache few could rival and a stare that could pierce any man's soul. That stern gaze bore a hole through Teddy each time it came his way.
"Son," He said.
"Dad," Teddy responded.
Theodore Roosevelt Sr. looked his son over, eyeing the bruises on his arms, chest, and back hidden by his clothes at dinner. "How many this time?"
"Six, but the head honcho wanted to make an example of me. I got two licks on him before the damn cough."
"Don't swear." Teddy nodded.
"Sorry, Sir."
"How far along are you on today's routine?"
"About a third. Still have more weights to hit, then hitting the bag."
"Good." Theodore sighed. "My boy, your mother's worried. I can't have that, and we didn't set this all up just for you to go and get hurt."
"I know…" Teddy looked to the side. Theodore gripped Teddy's left shoulder in his right hand. "You're getting stronger, but picking fights you can't win just because you can is a recipe for disaster."
"Dad, you don't…they're not going to stop. I'm not the only one these guys hurt. They mess with some of my schoolmates, and I heard they even harass the girls in the area. The cops don't do anything because they're lazy and corrupt."
"And one young man is going to stop them?" Theodore's stare met his son's eyes. Teddy blinked, but didn't look away.
"I don't know, but I can't stand it. All day, every day. You've seen it. The way the other boys used to look at me was like I was broken or weak. The way the girls looked at me was with nothing but pity. And those bullies look at me like I'm some toy to mess with and break."
"Picking fights with them is meaningless." Teddy tilted his head. "Son, when you try to become greater than the lot life gave you, some people just get rubbed the wrong way. You'll understand some fights are just not worth fighting, and that's because they want that fight. They want you brought down to their level, because they're better there and can make you think they're better there."
"So just let it go and let it happen?"
"No. Take that fire burning in your belly and use it as fuel to become stronger—No, healthier. To fight the fights worth fighting. One day, there will come a time when you need to fight, and you cannot run away. Those fights will be against far worse people than some random thugs and will help far more people than you can imagine."
"…That's kind of hokey, Dad."
"Of course it is!" Theodore suddenly yelled, full of mirth. "You're a Roosevelt! And the Roosevelts fight the good fight better than anyone!"
Teddy chuckled a little as he shook his head.
"Now get back to it. Get cleaned up once you're done."
"Yes, Sir!"
Tartarus
The Circles
Sir. Teddy thought. I am here to fight that good fight. Teddy took his boxing stance again. You have no idea how right you were. Too many lives were changed without me even realizing! I even became President to right those wrongs and fight those fights worth fighting. The memory of another fight with those boys played through his mind. All six lay out in the alley, Teddy's fists bloodied as more bruises grew on his body, and his right eye swelled shut. Those men would be the same ones he led in the Rough Riders. His efforts to clean out the corruption from New York City's police, and his conservation efforts across the United States. This…is another one of those fights, Sir. And with these hands… His knuckles popped under his gauntlets. With this iron-clad will and the name Roosevelt, I will fight that good fight one more time! He inhaled deeply. "VIDARR!" He roared. Vidarr leered at him. "I'm going to show what it means to fight a Roosevelt! Because a Roosevelt fights the good fight like no other!"
Tartarus
Interrogation Chamber
Zahhak turned around, and a look of mild irritation grew on his face. Standing before him was Vlad, clad in dried blood-colored armor with long, silver, skeletal arms reaching out from its back. "I'd have thought your fight with Prometheus would teach you that grandstanding is beyond asinine," Zahhak said.
"Still full of vitriol and piss as always," Vlad said deadpan.
"And the unvarnished truth. I assume you're here with the others?"
Vlad, be careful. Gabriel's voice said in his mind. Zahhak can pick apart anything anyone says.
"Hello to you, too, Gabe." Vlad's eyes widened. "Yes, I can hear him. You're not special."
Fucking smartass. Geirölul said in Vlad's mind.
"Ah! Geir too? My goodness, I don't know what's more impressive: a Völund between three, or the fact that Vlad somehow convinced an Angel and a Valkyrie to form a Völund? Desperation, I guess." Vlad scowled at him. "Ah, I will go with both." The arms ignited, and flames wrapped around the skeletal arms in the form of wings. "I must've touched a nerve."
Vlad…
Stay calm. Gabriel added.
"As much as I would love reminding you of your insignificance and defects, I'm afraid I don't have time, nor maybe the strength." Vlad raised an eyebrow. "Let's be honest. I can demean you until the day is done, but the power you hold right now is monstrous. I have no chance of stopping you. Best case, we both die."
Vlad waved out his armored right arm. "Especially since I have both arms again, and am not stuck in a cage, starving to near-death."
The hell is he on about?! Geirölul shouted.
Stay vigilant. Gabriel said.
Zahhak leered. "Vlad, how many times could I have killed you in that cell?"
"Each time you visited me, though, I think it would've deprived you of some sad sense of superiority to see me dead."
"Exactly." Vlad leered back. "No one would have stopped or punished me for doing it. You would not be the first person I got off scot-free for killing. But I didn't."
"What's your point?"
"What I gave you, against my better judgment, I ask for: a temporary mercy. In return, I will stay out of your way, and you can join your merrymen in getting Arthur."
"…Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why offer? And what makes you think this is about Arthur?"
Zahhak shook his head. "No one else is in Avalon, and Xolo's down there, probably killing your friends. Don't play dumb. As for why…I just don't care enough." Vlad squinted. "As much as it must be hard for you to understand the bigger picture, I don't have anything against Arthur being free. Sure, I may hate the bastard for my own reasons, but if it means I win in the long run, then he's yours."
The flames vanished, and the arms folded neatly onto Vlad's back. "Then I accept."
Vlad! Geirölul shouted. Are you insane?! He's messing with us!
I'm with Geir, here. We can't let this chance pass! Gabriel added.
Vlad turned away from Zahhak. "Don't think you'll get far," Vlad said. "Many have tried." He jumped down the hole.
Zahhak crept up to the hole and looked down, watching Vlad descend. A ripple and chill ran through his body. "Damn…that was close…but now that he's here…" He looked down at his tablet. "That's another distraction." He stuffed it back in his pants pocket. "Time to go…" A look of disgust appeared on his face. "…home."
Valhalla
Outside the Eastern Chapel
Far from the mayhem in Helheim, Brünhilde and Siegfried sat alone on a bench across from the chapel. Under the shade of an ash tree, Brünhilde rested her head on Siegfried's right shoulder, their fingers intertwined. Both sat there with their eyes closed, letting the breeze blow around them and through their hair. They became deaf to the noise around them, save for the soft beat of the other's hearts through their hands.
Too long. Such an event, as simple and uninteresting as it was, took too long to happen. Such a moment for the two became irreplaceable, and every passerby felt the subtle hint that to interrupt them became tantamount to committing a cardinal sin.
Asgard
Millennia Ago
Back then, far from Odin's castle, in one of Asgard's vast prairies, Týr and Siegfried lay in the grass. Both men wore sleeveless shirts and shorts and were covered in welts and bruises. Both breathed heavily as they strained to rise.
"Sieg," Týr said. "You've improved! I don't think I've had a good spar like that since Rommie!" Pain shot from his left temple. "Crap, that hurts."
"Yeah, but I still lost!" Siegfried responded. "I still can't beat you!"
"Yeah…" Týr slapped his right thigh with his golden arm. "Not here, but you beat me somewhere else, man."
"Huh?"
Týr turned to him. "Sieg, I wish I knew what I did wrong. Maybe there's nothing I did wrong, but I can't help but wonder about it."
Sieg looked away and frowned. "I don't know. It just clicked. Love's weird like that. I don't know how I got so lucky."
Týr shook his head. "Man, I wish I could hate you two." Siegfried flinched and looked at Týr nervously. "It'd make it easier to just leave you two to your own devices."
"I'm sorry, Týr. I…didn't mean to hurt you."
Týr squinted at him. "You? Hurt me? Sieg, bite me. There's no way you hurt me." He shook his head. "I did it to myself. I fell for a woman with whom I just didn't click. I won't lie, though, it did feel nice to rough you up a bit." He smiled wryly.
"I had a feeling. So we're okay?"
"Sieg, you were my friend first. Then you met Hilde. You're always my friend, no matter what. Just…take care of her. You have something she wants and cherishes. I don't know what it is, but in the end, it doesn't matter. You two have each other, and after I beat you up a few more times, I might enjoy hanging out with you two again."
Siegfried sighed and took a brawling stance. "I'd like that, but maybe not the beating up part."
"I might even let up if you name your first kid after me." Siegfried's face turned bright red, and Týr fell to the ground laughing.
Valhalla
Outside the Eastern Chapel
Týr. Siegfried thought. I…know it may make you feel some way or other if you saw us like this, but I wish you were here. Siegfried rested his head atop Brünhilde's. This…this is the greatest thing you ever gave me, and I will do everything to never be separated from her again. Though…I don't know how she'll feel about naming our first kid after you! He smiled. Though you might be in the running. The chapel doors opened, and Siegfried opened his eyes, watching Romulus and Skalmöld walk out. He sighed. I really wish I were at the wedding. He watched them kiss and hug before Romulus started down the road. The two demigods exchanged a glance and a soft smile as Romulus passed by. What else did I miss? Can I make up for that?
Skalmöld nervously walked over to them, scared she might be committing a taboo.
"Hilde," Sieg said.
"Hmmm?" She responded.
"Möld's coming over. She looks like she needs to talk. You ready?"
Brünhilde raised her head out from under Siegfried's, and both straightened up. "Maybe," She answered, smiling.
"Go easy on her." Siegfried smiled at her. "I think something big is going on for Rommie."
"He's going to talk with his father, Ares."
"Oh…that can't be good."
Skalmöld stopped just a few meters from them. "Hey, uh, Hilde. Sorry to interrupt your reunion."
"I'll let it slide this time." Brünhilde snickered.
Skalmöld let out a sigh of relief. "Appreciate that, but something needs our attention." The pair looked at her, concerned. "Georgios asked if we could call our sisters to the chapel. I think Geir's out of the area and Alvi's recovering, but we may be able to get the others. Oh! And Pandora, too."
"…Why?"
"He didn't say why, but that it was critical and essential."
Siegfried and Brünhilde looked at each other.
"When has Georgios ever steered us wrong?"
"Last week, when he tried to convince us that he had found a new training spot in Eden. He got us lost, and we stayed out in the wilderness overnight."
"…Oh."
Damavand
In Midgard, over a dozen Angels unwound the pristine-formed mountain of chain. Raphael, Armaiti, and Indra watched on as Jophiel commanded them. Slowly and cautiously, they pulled the monstrous chain links off the top of the mountain and laid them on the ground.
"Why are they moving so slowly?" Indra asked.
"They're being careful," Raphael said. "The chains are formed too neatly to be a coincidence."
"The writing on the walls doesn't imply a sound mind, Raph," Armaiti said. "I doubt Zahhak was able to plan something like this."
"I agree, which is why I don't believe this was his work. Still, they're checking everything to make sure. Nothing wrong with a healthy sense of caution, right?"
"Any ideas who it could've been?" Indra asked.
Two came to Raphael's mind. The glare of their orange eyes burned his soul. "I have a few, but nothing certain. I'm missing a lot of the details, but there are a few who would want to come here and are vindictive enough to commit something so damn heinous."
Indra sighed, looking around the dome as the angels continued unfurling the chain. Old Man…I hate saying this, but I think you brought this on yourself. He stared at the writing through his bangs. Zahhak was your kid, but you should have killed him when you had the chance. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it, removing the burnt end. The guy was always petty. Could only imagine what he cooked up while here—Wait. "Armaiti."
"What?" She asked.
"When was Zahhak imprisoned here?"
"Thousands of years ago. Why?"
"Did anything happen here besides his imprisonment?"
"This mountain was picked as the site of Arash's shot, and where he died."
No…maybe? He thought. Electricity raced across his mind as his thoughts accelerated. "Does anyone or anything track where Zahhak reincarnates when he dies and becomes a Human?"
"No. There wasn't a need to. After he was monitored for a few dozen cycles, we left him alone. The only time we interfered was helping Fereydun imprison him here."
"Did you know he was Zahhak?"
"We only found out after the fight started, but it was considered a coincidence. What're you getting it at?"
"That's what I was afraid of." Raphael and Armaiti looked at him. "Why would Zahhak, as a Human, know his dad's name?"
Their eyes widened.
"I was too focused on finding Epi," Raphael whispered. "How…did he know it?"
"Could anyone bypass or remove the memory block on him?
Raphael grew paler, his sight slowly showing panic. "No…no…but why?" He massaged his brow with his left hand. "It would make sense, but—"
"Sir!" Jophiel yelled. "We have removed enough of the chain! We found it!"
Raphael looked her way, and green translucent wings of light formed behind his back. He jumped into the air and floated over to her. She pointed straight down, and he looked.
There he was. The sphere was in perfect condition and still running. The clear gold liquid was still clean and free of impurities as a nude body floated in it with a mask and tube over the mouth. Its long blonde hair flowed out like a sea anemone, and the body retained its physique thanks to the pod.
"Epi…" Raphael felt energy flow back into him. "Sergeant, has the system been checked for any tampering?"
"No, Sir. Do we have permission to check?"
"You do. Get started, now."
She nodded. She looked over at a few angels floating in the distance, spun her right finger, then pointed down to the pod. They nodded and flew towards it. Raphael reached his left hand into his pocket while the angels went to work. He pulled out his tablet and tucked his cane under his left armpit. He started typing.
Yama. We found him. The guess was on the mark. We're checking the pod his body is in for traps. I'll send any updates your way as soon as possible.
He sent the message and turned back to Armaiti and Indra. "Gang, we did it! We—!" Raphael stopped and felt that renewed hope die. They did not see him. No one did. How he appeared there without anyone knowing brought back too many bad memories for Raphael.
Standing behind the two, staring up at Raphael with a listless glare and snide grin, was Zahhak.
"Hello, everyone," Zahhak said, his voice barely above a whisper. Indra and Armaiti felt their blood run cold. They turned around and faced him. "Why did you break into my home?"
Valhalla
Eastern Chapel
Back in Valhalla, Set sat at the altar's steps at the front of the chapel in solitude. Despite the chapel's size, the echoes of soft sounds made the building feel large and hollow. The subtle movements of his suit against the carpeted stone steps, the leather of his gloves creaking as he occasionally rubbed his hands together, and the slight, dull sound of his breathing within the mask.
Set. He thought. I need another favor.
I know. The voice responded. I'll expand the field for as long as you need. Will the size of the chapel be enough?
It will. Set felt something crawl up his spine and out of his arms. A sphere of invisible energy spread out from him and enveloped the chapel. I…I am scared. I do not think this ends well.
I don't think it can, but you need this as much as they do. What do you gain by continuing to hide?
…Nothing. He looked up at the ceiling. When did you start being insightful?
I'm not proud to admit it, but Ra being gone and everyone being safe kind of helped. I'm sorry for saying that, since Ra was a friend.
He was once, but I understand. Maybe I should have gone after Odin and Zahhak before all this.
And risk killing us both? Pass.
Both chuckled. Distant footsteps from outside slowly echoed into the chapel. Cannot argue that. He stood and faced the back of the chapel. Set. Thank you. I never truly understood what you put yourself through to save me. I wish I—
Can it. You paid me back a hundred times over. The chapel doors opened, and Brünhilde and Pandora walked through. Behind them were Hrist, Skalmöld, Reginleif, Göndul, Hlökk, Radgridr, and Göll. Georgios and Siegfried followed right behind them. I'm not intervening. Good luck.
Brünhilde scowled at him. Crap. Set?" Brünhilde asked. "What're you trying to pull now? Just so you know, Samson and Johannes are outside, so if you try anything—"
"Was my goodwill with Siegfried so unbelievable?" Set asked. "Did Georgios and Skalmöld's asking on my behalf mean nothing, too?
"…"
"I guess not," He whispered.
"Sir," Georgios said. He met Set's gaze and nodded.
Set sighed. "I asked Georgios to summon you all here, but I see a few are missing." Geirölul and Alvitr being absent might actually make this easier…they would handle this the worst. "No matter. First, I will be candid. Tactful, but candid. I wish to say to you all that you took on a challenge that no one expected you to handle. I admit I was one of them. Yet look where we are: 5-5. You chose strong champions, Brünhilde. And those of you who have already fought, bravo. For Mist, Thrud, and Randgriz…I mourn them with you."
"Sure, you do," Hlökk whispered. Göll gently elbowed her, and she huffed in response.
"I know I have not personally fought against any of you, but your sisters' deaths are on your hands and mine." He looked at Pandora. "And your father's." Her expression softened. "I say this because I have my reasons. My reasons for taking control of Ragnarök. My reasons for recruiting the Gods I chose, regardless of the risk, and the reasons for putting down dangerous elements like Prometheus and Ra."
Hrist's eyes widened. "Wait, what?" She muttered.
"I have many reasons for why, but the ones that mattered more than anything…" He inhaled deeply, briefly looking down at the floor, then back to the Valkyries and Pandora. "…are you all."
Göll stepped up and stood next to Brünhilde. "Us?" Göll asked. Brünhilde's eyes widened in a mixture of confusion and caution.
"Yes. I am guilty of causing you all irreparable harm. And seeing you go through all this alone was something I could never forgive myself for. I will not ask you to forgive me, but please understand that nothing I have done was ever intended to hurt you, but protect you."
"Protect us?" Hlökk asked. "We didn't need protection, and we don't need it now, so keep your pity! Why care about us at all?!" Göndul rested her left hand on Hlökk's shoulder.
"Hlökk…" Göndul whispered, concern showing on her face.
Set breathed slowly. "Not at all what I meant. You are all far stronger than the Gods give you credit for. I said what I said because it is more a personal failing than a belief in your weakness." Here I go…He thought. He tapped a switch under his chin. "It's hard for a father not to be critical of himself when he sees his children hurting," He said, his voice now a deep baritone.
Something silent, yet heavy, slammed down on the women. Their hearts and minds fired into a silent panic from Set's words. "You…" Göndul whispered. "Why do you sound like that?!" She suddenly yelled.
"I have always sounded like this." Set removed his gloves, revealing pale, wrinkled hands with well-manicured nails. He tapped another switch under his chin. "I have always looked like what you think I do." Hlökk and Radgridr started tearing up as his face resurfaced in their memories. Hrist could stop from shifting between anger and sadness. Skalmöld and Göndul worked to keep their bearing. Reginleif stayed stoic, but a tear rolled down her cheek. Pandora and Brünhilde glanced nervously at each other, then back at Set as Göll watched on in concern. Set tapped the third switch, then turned it. The back of the mask flowered open with a few hisses and whirs. Slowly, Set reached up and cupped the sides of the mask in his hands and lifted it off his head. He kneeled and placed it on the ground at his feet. Georgios and Siegfried watched everything unfold.
He still had his coiffed white hair, done in the same way that caused Pandora and Brünhilde's first big fight and the creation of Brew and Bruise. However, his face now carried more wrinkles, as if life was wrung out of him more by circumstance than time. His short beard and moustache had grown out, hiding his chin and jawline. His eyes were still the same shade of cyan, just like Brünhilde's, and he wore the same tired expression she tried to hide from everyone else.
"And now…I must stop hiding who I have always been," He said. "Hello, girls."
Metatron
Former High General
And
"Chief God" of the Heavenly Choirs
Angelus Principis
Father of all Angels, the Sancti, and the Valkyries