Jörð Arena
Gods' Barracks
Yama's Quarters
Deep within the near-empty hall where the Gods' Fighters rested and prepared, behind a large red, stone sliding door emblazoned with the image of a golden Ox standing atop a sea of black skeletons, Yama sat on the wooden floor of an empty room, its windows open and letting in the crisp afternoon air. In front of him was a long black trunk trimmed in gold, its center secured by a single keyhole lock. He looked over the trunk while he twirled a key in his right hand and held his tablet in his left. He looked at his tablet and clicked his teeth.
TRACKING STATUS
VIDARR: CIRCLES. LAST SYNC: FOUR MINUTES AGO.
XOLOTL: AVALON. LAST SYNC: FOUR MINUTES AGO.
ZAHHAK: -ERROR: NO SIGNAL.-
Damn it. Yama thought. He pocketed his tablet and turned his attention back to the trunk. "I knew Zahhak might try something, but whatever the hell he did made this unnecessarily complicated," He said aloud. He gently slid the key into the keyhole and turned it. He felt the lock turn and give way through his hand. He breathed slowly as he gripped the top of the trunk and lifted it. Some dust flew off as the top rose, and Yama looked down at the trunk's contents.
A curved, bronze pole with a hinge thirty centimeters from the tip. He reached down and grasped it gently, lifting it above his head. His eyes ran across the pole, then he placed it on the ground to his right. He reached back into the trunk, pulling out a shimmering gold cloth with a radiant red trim. Two of the cloth's edges each had three leather bands running through them, while another had two metal rings on the end connected by a knotted red rope.
Yama stretched the cloth out, letting light bounce off the shining cloth and revealing the sigil of a black buffalo in the cloth's center.
"It has been too long," Yama said softly. "Didn't think there'd ever be a day I'd use you again…" He laid the cloth across his lap, then grabbed the pole. Slowly, he threaded the pole through each of the six leather bands. Once done, he bent the pole at the hinge and tapped a switch on the side, locking it. Yama rose and scanned the assembled banner. "Are you ready?"
The banner let out a soft hum, and Yama smiled. Let's go make things right. Just like back then.
He put the banner across his back, and it clung to his armor. He rose and walked towards the exit. It slid to the side, and he stepped out into the hall.
As soon as the door slid back into place, the hallway began to shake. Yama's expression hardened immediately as he heard echoing footsteps to his right. Slowly, he looked over and saw cracks spreading across the walls, floor, and ceiling.
"I was wondering when you'd show up." At the center of the web of cracks, still wearing his regal white cape over his purple and red robes, was Odin. He tilted his neck left and right, popping it. "Can't get away with nothing for long…" Yama's stare met Odin's stoic gaze as he walked towards him, the cracks continuing to spread with his stride. Yama felt the cracks spread under his feet and the tremors intensify. Yama shot Odin a contemptuous glare as he got closer and stopped in front of him.
"Yama," Odin said, his tone barely above a whisper.
"Odin."
"Why is Siegfried out of Tartarus?"
Huginn and Muninn popped out from behind Odin and landed on his shoulders.
"Yeah! Why is—" Huginn started.
A massive wave of pressure erupted from Yama. "I…will not speak to birds." Both ravens went silent as the pressure faded. "And I don't owe you an explanation." Yama turned and walked around Odin.
Odin's aura flooded into the hall, and it began to darken. "Do not ignore me, Yama," Odin ordered, still facing away from Yama, his face contorted in fury.
Yama kept walking. Without looking back, he waved his hand. "Dumbass, I don't work for you. I work for Hades. I asked what he thought about it, and he thought it was the right call. He approved it, so if you have an issue with an innocent man being freed from my prison, take it up with him."
"Irrelevant." Odin turned, eyeing Yama's back. "Put…him…back." Black energy coalesced in Odin's hand, then stretched out, turning into the ornate, long-bladed spear Gungnir.
Yama stopped. He looked up at the damaged ceiling. I am done with this. Yama thought, turning around and walking back, stopping in front of Odin. "Are you going to make me?" He grabbed his banner and pulled it off his back. "I'd have thought you'd be more concerned with your sons' deaths rather than some random Demigod, or did they matter so little to you?"
"What I do is none of your concern."
"It is when you use my prison," Yama's aura erupted and clashed with Odin's. "as your personal kennel, it becomes my concern." His grip on the banner's pole tightened. "Loki confessed. Whether you believed his words back doesn't matter." His aura intensified, and four large golden arms grew out of his back. "Everyone now sees you as a fool at best, and a corrupt tyrant at worst, but I see you for who you really are." His silver eyes shone. "The same callous bastard who led Yggdrasil."
Odin's right eye widened in shock. The four arms grew and dug their fingers into the walls. "So you remember me…"
"I'm not some scared little shit anymore, and you're no longer the Primordial God you think you are." Yama poked Odin's chest with his left index finger. "Týr made sure of that."
Odin's lips peeled back into a snarl. How does he know?! Odin thought.
"Stop showboating. You've got nothing in the tank." The golden arms slowly circled Odin. "Maybe I should put you out of your misery."
Odin's stare locked with Yama's. The hall continued to crack and break.
Try something, you bastard. Yama thought. You don't have a clue how badly I want this. You hurt one of the Old Man's daughters with your crap and USED me to make it happen. I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN.
Odin stood silently, his grip on Gungnir tightened.
Fight me—come on! The skin around Yama's eyes began turning red.
Odin's pressure faded, and he stepped back. His scowl faded, and he exhaled. "Don't think you will get away with this."
The golden arms shrank and receded into Yama's back. "I'm not a Chief or Supreme God, so I can't hide behind titles like you. Unlike you, I have the guts to take responsibility for my mistakes." Yama turned around and departed, leaving Odin and his ravens stewing in silence.
<>
Tartarus
The Circles
Back in the Circles, Teddy resumed his stance despite Vidarr's barrage decimating his body. Teddy breathed deeply. "Cam, it's time," He said.
Are you sure? Camael asked.
"I'm a man too big to keep down, and it's time he sees why!"
On it!
"I'll make sure the girl survives, too."
Camael went silent.
"Can't have your baby sister's blood on my hands! That'd be too damn much for you, ya sap!"
Camael chuckled. Go buck wild, then.
"BULLY!" The space around Teddy began to ripple violently, and his skin began to dull and gray. "For I shall live the Strenuous Life…and never turn away!"
Vidarr's eyes went wild with panic, and he reared back. "A Roosevelt has nothing on the Norse!" He swung forward. "Brota Tómr!" The unseen force sailed down towards Teddy again.
The ground under Teddy's feet began caving away, and he turned his body to the right, keeping his right arm tight by his body. Stepping his left foot forward, Teddy fired his right arm straight up.
"NOW OR NEVER!" He roared through gritted teeth. His fist collided with the invisible force. A loud clang erupted from the impact, his feet were driven into the ground, and his torso was twisted back to the right.
Blood erupted from Vidarr's palms, and pain shot up his arms. Skeggöld screamed in his mind as the axe vibrated in his hands.
"Let's go!" Teddy roared, dashing towards Vidarr. His heavy stomps left a crater with every step he took. Blood began flowing out of his nose, eyes, and ears.
"Son of a bitch!" Vidarr roared. He started swinging the axe around from the right. "How about here?!"
Teddy swung his right leg up and transitioned the dash into a short hop, turning his body to the left. His feet slammed down. I can see the power! Teddy thought. The force began to take shape and solidify. A giant axe-head, matching Vidarr's, was flying straight at him. Now, take this! He fired a right cross right into the oncoming blade, colliding with the edge. His body vibrated from the impact as the bones in his right hand and forearm shattered, and he skidded across the floor several meters as Vidarr's hands gushed more blood.
"Damn it!" He roared. "It's like hitting Mjolnir!"
He's…weaponizing knockback?! Skeggöld yelled. It's still got to hurt him! He's still taking the brunt of those hits!
Teddy turned back to Vidarr and ran.
Don't worry! Our power is still keeping... him...Teddy began closing the gap. The pair could now see the blood coming from his face. …away?!
"That bastard's using Pressure… and mimicking a black hole?!" Vidarr yelled. Since when the hell can a human use such a move?! No… Vidarr lowered the axe and swung up. Space rippled as the axe-head-shaped force tore through the earth and up to Teddy.
Teddy slammed his left hand down in a hammer fist and collided with it, halting his run as the bones in his left hand crumbled. Vidarr skidded back as more flesh was torn from his palms. He felt the bones in his own hands begin fracturing.
His skin is gray! Bastard's turned himself into a pseudo-singularity! Vidarr felt his feet start sliding across the stone floor towards Teddy. He's making everything collapse into him! Even Space itself! Is he trying to kill himself?!
How Teddy was doing it, he did not know. The physics behind it was far too much for him to understand, despite Camael's efforts. The only way he could comprehend it, the only way the man known as Theodore Roosevelt Jr. could take it as an idea and run with it, was because, in his mind, it was the one thing he built everything on.
The Strenuous Life. To take on the hardest challenge, to take on and fight the meaningful fights, to dream bigger than one could imagine, and to aid those who could not fight for themselves. To take the strength he built and combine it with the raw, unflinching will that he inherited, and continue against the strain. Against the pain of his body being crushed under the weight of a dying star. Against the desire to lie his head and dream the day away. Against the longing in his heart from seeing his family in the Heavens again.
Teddy's locked onto Vidarr, and he pushed on.
It was this core foundation that pushed his fracturing legs to run, to tear the floor away. That drove his broken arms and hands to punch. That demanded all his senses to fight through the pain as he closed in on the one who threatened the future he cherished.
Forty meters. Thirty Meters. Twenty. Then ten. Vidarr continued sliding towards Teddy and braced for one last slash.
Let's get him, Skeggöld! We're getting you home! Vidarr declared!
LET'S GO! She roared.
"Grit…those…teeth!" Teddy roared, bringing his shattered hands up for one last blow.
Vidarr reared back, fighting through the searing pain, for one last, world-rending slash.
Tartarus
The Circles
Below the final battle of the space-wielding monsters, Yi held the Hwando out in front of his body. He reached his left hand towards the glowing blade's center and flicked the blade. It started humming and vibrating. "One moment, please," Yi said. He tossed it high into the air. As it rose, the blade's vibrations intensified as it glowed brighter and brighter. Then, it exploded, and dozens upon dozens of glowing blades rained down around the two.
Xolotl's eyes darted in every direction.
"Relax," Yi said. "This is not an attack, but a declaration." The deluge of blades ceased, and their decimated battleground was now littered with embedded Hwandos over half a kilometer in all directions. Yi raised his hand and caught his sword. "Do you know the beauty of the Hwando?"
Xolotl flourished his glowing blade out to the side and shook his head.
"It's a normal, run-of-the-mill tool. I always stressed to my men how utterly normal it is. If it breaks, replace it. Don't become attached to it. You can find countless ones in a barrel or box outside a shop or base. It's nothing special, like me." He grasped the Hwando in both hands. "My men never understood that, despite my wishes."
Xolotl squinted at him.
"I told them that, because there would be a time I would not be there to lead them. They would need to trust themselves to fight the tide and protect our home. I am one man, and no one man can be so important that the world crumbles without them." The final memories of his life replayed as he watched his nephew Yi Wan change out of his armor. He proceeded to put on his Uncle's to keep their force's resolve alive. Yi felt his heart break in two while he lay on his deathbed. "These Hwandos are not my strength, but the extraordinary ordinary strength of each and every Sailor I had the privilege to lead. Who filled me with hope I could never repay them for, and who made my victories possible."
Xolotl's gaze softened.
"Sorry! Got a little sentimental! After these little exchanges, I felt a kindred spirit in you and couldn't help myself. But that's why the Hwando is beautiful to me. It's just an ordinary sword, and every time I wield it, I never forget utterly normal I am despite what the world sees me as." He pointed it at Xolotl. "And how amazing my ordinary crew was."
Xolotl could not look away from Yi. Behind him, he saw a familiar being. One who towered over Yi, but carried that same energy and bearing. His green feathered wings still looked pristine, as back then, in contrast to the sheen of his blue scales and regal white hip wrap, black and red mantle, bracers, and shin-guards. His serpentine face wore the same smile and was framed by that familiar white-feathered crown.
Quetz. Xolotl thought.
<>
Tlālōcān
Eons Ago
In a different time and different place, far from that battleground in Helheim, Xolotl stood at the top of a massive pyramid at the center of a lush jungle. At the pyramid's base stood a crowd of Gods of every shape and size. To Xolotl's left was a God with blue fur with a head shaped like a Jaguar, but all the upper teeth extended far out of his mouth. His ringed eyes scanned the crowd below. To Xolotl's right was another God with blue skin. On his wrists, biceps, shins, and chest were painted white rings, and he wore a green-feathered crown above his slicked-back black hair.
Tlaloc
God of Rain, Fertility, Thunder, and Lightning
(Aztec Pantheon)
Huitzilopochtli
God of the Sun, Fire, and War
Ruler of the South
(Aztec Pantheon)
Both wore the same outfit as Xolotl, a personal sign of camaraderie between the trio.
"Guys, anyone seen Quetz?" Tlaloc asked, his voice a deep bass. "The crowd below is getting restless."
"Last I heard, he was in a spat with Tezca over this," Xolotl answered, his basso profundo betraying his short stature amongst his peers. "He's concerned Quetz's plan won't work."
"I don't blame him. Quetz is asking a lot of everyone down there," Huitzilopochtli said, scanning the crowd of familiar faces. "How many of these guys were trying to kill us recently?" He saw a few eyeing him. "They definitely were…"
"Quetz would not plan this if he didn't have faith in it," Xolo responded, looking down with him. Dozens were staring daggers at him and only him. "But nothing's certain."
"I still think the Accords idea Izanagi recommended a while back is a good idea. We wouldn't have to do this."
Xolotl turned to him. "Izanagi, I trust, but I doubt Zeus and the rest of the Chief Gods would be faithful to the idea of a non-aggression treaty. Bunch of fight-loving maniacs and would-be conquerors."
"Yama's around to keep the peace, and no one tries to start anything with him as Helheim's Ruler."
"Yeah…but even with him, nothing's certain."
"Gasp and shock, Xolo's a cynic!" Tlaloc said dramatically, cupping his face in his hands. "Learn to have some faith. Today wouldn't be possible were it not for your brother."
Suddenly, all three felt a powerful presence above them. They and the crowd below looked up and saw him. His bearing was as regal as his outstretched wings, and his scales and regalia shone in the noon sun. He slowly descended until he landed feet-first between the trio and retracted his wings, letting his tail rest on the ground.
Quetzalcoatl
The Feathered Serpent
God of the Winds, Day, Life, Light, and Wisdom
Ruler of the West
Chief God of the Aztec Pantheon
"Are they all down there?" He asked, his voice a deceptive soft tenor.
"I confirmed," Xolotl answered. "Mayan, Zapotec, Mixtec, Toltec, and Olmec Chief Gods, their retinues, and a few of their champions, along as a precaution."
"Good," Quetzalcoatl whispered. "Wish me luck." He started walking down the steps of the pyramid.
"Hey wait!" Xolotl stepped forward. "What're you—"
"Xolo, stop." Quetzalcoatl raised his right hand. "I am going alone. Otherwise, this means nothing."
Xolotl opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it and stepped back, feeling his heart racing as his brother continued his descent.
All three lined the edge as their leader made his way. They could only see his back, the same one they followed into conflict after conflict. They trusted the God that back belonged to, and knew this moment could only happen because that very same God grew sick of the violence.
In the few minutes that felt like eons, Quetzalcoatl arrived at the base of the pyramid, surrounded by the other Gods. Slowly, he removed his headdress, his mantle, and his shin guards, leaving only his hip-wrap.
"Thank you all for coming here for your willingness to hear me out," He started. "I know many of you come here today expecting a fight. I know this because the three up there expect one." He pointed back at the Pyramid's top. "My allies Tezcatlipoca and Xipe-Totec are not here because they expect a fight, and are waiting for something to happen. I, however, am not here to fight." He walked towards the crowd, letting them circle him. "I, like many of you, bear a painful truth. We are divided. Horribly and bitterly. Our desire to maintain our independence from the rest of the Heavens has bled into dissent among our peoples, who were once allies and even friends. This endless war we have fallen into has done nothing but weaken us and make us an easy target for the other Pantheons to come and pick us off one by one."
A few of the Gods exchanged glances.
"I know I am asking something of you that may be arrogant, but you all have experienced the strength of the Aztecs. The three above me are just a fraction of our power, and many of you have lost friends and family to us. I don't deny it. However, I wish to atone for that. Like many of you, I am tired of fighting."
"Only because you've been winning and advancing into our lands," An elderly, toothless God to Quetzalcoatl's right said.
Itzamna
Creator God of the Sky, Sun, Day, Night, Medicine, Writing and Agriculture
Mayan Chief God
Quetzalcoatl sighed and nodded. "I admit I am taking advantage of the situation, but not to coerce you. Rather, I think this may be the only chance I have to convince you."
"Of what?" The Elderly Goddess next to Itzamna asked. Over her shoulders and head rested a Jaguar skin.
Ixchel
Goddess of Fertility, midwifery, medicine, and water
Mayan Chief Goddess
"To unite." Several of the Gods began whispering amongst themselves. Quetzalcoatl observed the conversations, fighting the urge to overhear.
Back at the top of the Pyramid, Xolotl watched on. He flexed his fingers in and out.
"He's got this, Xolo," Tlaloc said. "But we're ready just in case."
Xolo nodded as Quetzalcoatl was gesturing for the crowd's attention.
"What could you give us the Accords can't?" Itzamna asked, mockingly.
"Honestly? A sure thing."
Several of the Gods began arguing amongst themselves, and Quetzalcoatl's blood boiled. Enough of this. He thought. "Who here was alive when Yggdrasil began their campaign?!"The crowd went silent. "Who here lost loved ones to their genocide? I did, and I know all of you did! Those who witnessed that hell still recall the sheer indifferent terror…you know who you are." A few of the Gods looked away. "They were just eleven of eighty-eight and felt nothing from fighting their own kind. Accords?! ACCORDS?! Ridiculous! You think a piece of paper will stop the likes of Odin, Oludumare, and Perrun from invading?! Do you?!" His gaze locked on Itzamna. Itzamna tried to fight it, but he too turned away. "We know each other! Before this war, we all fought side by side to make a place for ourselves. To build a community that could stand against any invader!" Quetzalcoatl fell to his knees and bowed. "We, the Aztecs, do not wish to rule you! We wish to stand beside you all and rebuild our lost homeland together! No Aztec! No Mayan! No Toltec! None of them! We will be one Pantheon that will stand united and will never be at the mercy of the callous or genocidal ever again!" His head slammed into the ground. "I beg you! I have loved ones I am terrified to lose! I know you all do as well! I will never allow harm to come to them within and without ever again!"
Silence washed over the crowd. All could barely understand what they saw. The Flying Serpent, the ruler of the Aztecs, not only bowed to them but showed them all the nape of his neck. Anyone could step up and kill him without issue whatsoever. They all knew the power he held. Power so great when he walked onto a battlefield, it was considered an instant defeat if another Chief God was not on the opposite side.
This God of near unrivaled power and prestige…humbled himself to his enemies. Back at the top of the Pyramid, Xolotl watched on, unable to hear anything that was happening below. All he knew was that this action meant one thing.
Sheer. Unfiltered. Desperation.
Quetz…I don't see what you see. I can't believe this will work. Xolotl thought. His right hand slowly reached towards the dagger sitting on his belt. If they attack you, I'm going. Forgive me.
What happened next would sit in the minds of the Aztecs for years to follow. They could not hear what was said, but many of the Gods walked over to Quetzalcoatl and helped him stand. Some even patted him on the back. Other Gods began facing each other and starting discussions. Itzamna and Ixchel walked over to Quetzalcoatl and shook his hands.
"No way…they…" Xolotl started.
"They were convinced?" Tlaloc whispered.
"Maybe," Huitzilopochtli added. "Looks like things are going to be interesting from now on.
It was later that day, when they were alone, that Queztalcoatl told them one stipulation for it. He needed names that aligned him with the other Pantheons that now made up his people. Kukulkan, Cozaana, Ñuhu Dzahui, and many others. Those names, Xolotl would soon understand, became his brother's greatest treasure and the reminder of the hope he instilled in everyone around him.
<>
Tartarus
Avalon
Back at the fateful battle, Xolotl reached his left hand up to the center of his metallic mantle. He tapped the center, and a small, metallic apparatus popped out and rested on his neck.
"Human," A harsh, deep, robotic voice spoke out of the contraption. "What is your name?"
Yi smiled. "I am Yi Sun-sin of the Joseon Navy and humbly bestowed the title of Admiral and Lord Valor."
"You carry yourself as someone who earned them. I am Xolotl of the Aztecs, and the Right Hand of my brother, the late Supreme God of Mesoamerica, Quetzalcoatl. As you said, this moment with a kindred spirit made me sentimental. You remind me of him."
"I hope that's a compliment!"
"It is…" The blade grew and glowed brighter. "This power, Flare of the Setting Sun, is the power that made his dreams a reality. And it will be with this power I avenge him."
"Then I ask for your forgiveness, because I have no intention of letting you have your vengeance." He tightened his stance. "Now come!"
<>
Valhalla
Eastern Chapel
Back in Valhalla, far from the oncoming climaxes, Metatron still stood across from his children, with Georgios now standing behind Brünhilde.
I…am running out of time. I need to make this count. Metatron thought. "Hilde, Georgios. You two, for sure, are going in Round Eleven?"
"Yes," Brünhilde answered.
"You know who will fight for us?"
"We do. It's why I went and brought in Georgios. If there's anyone within Humanity's history, among the many Saints who blessed Humanity with their presence, that can defeat Yama, it's him."
Georgios scratched his cheek, blushing a little. "Kind of tooting my horn for me, Hilde!" Georgios said.
"I will not deny it. You two have a chance. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless," Metatron said. "With that being the case, then, will you hear me out on one more thing before you leave?"
Brünhilde looked back at Georgios, then Siegfried. Both nodded, and she rolled her eyes before turning back to her father, waiting.
"Hilde, I know I failed. Everything for the past thousand years or so has been a constant reminder of my failures. However, I cannot deny…" She glared at him, and their eyes met. He recalled those eyes belonging to a much younger girl. One who looked at him with awe. One, slightly older, who looked at him with irritation and begrudging respect. Another, older, who looked at him with fear as she introduced him to Siegfried and stabbed him through his heart with a metaphorical poker. That same look turned to joy as he met and learned the kind of man who captured her heart.
Those eyes now looked at him with anger, disappointment, and, perhaps, the worst: hurt. He felt his heart tear in two as he teared up a little. "…I could not be prouder of the woman you became. I know part of it was because of my absence…yet you held your head high and kept it together despite it all." He waved his hand towards his daughters. "They trusted you, and you never betrayed them. You led them through everything, and still do."
Brünhilde turned away from him, refusing to face him and let him see her cry.
"I do not have the right to say it, but you are the person I failed in every way to be. Thank you for being my daughter, Hilde. As well as you all." He turned towards Skalmöld and the others. "I dream about those days that will never return. In those days, we had tea and rode our horses. I trained you to be strong. You trained me to be your father, and I can never thank you all." He crouched and picked up the helmet. "Göll. I could not make such memories with you. You have every right to hate me—"
"I don't," She answered, rubbing her eyes.
Metatron closed his eyes and shook his head. There was so much I wanted to teach you. So much you could learn to help your brothers and sisters. So much about being a Primordial God that no one else can explain. But I do not have the right to tell you. Please do not leave her ignorant forever, Hilde. He breathed deeply. "Until there comes a time when I can speak to you all without this, I will not darken your doorsteps again. See you later, girls." He slid the mask over his head, and it snapped shut. He walked past the girls and Georgios and departed.
The moment he left, Brünhilde walked towards the exit, Georgios in tow, with Siegfried catching up to them. As soon as they passed through the doors and they closed, she collapsed onto the steps, sobbing. Siegfried crouched down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. Georgios turned away, facing Samson and Johannes. He shook his head and motioned them to give the couple some distance. They all walked a few steps away, giving the pair space.
Sir. He thought. This needed to happen. You all needed this. I didn't say it would end well, but it needed to happen. He looked over towards the bench where Brünhilde and Siegfried sat before the reunion. On the bench was a familiar coat, and he walked over to it, leaving his teammates. I wish this had changed your mind, but you're still the same stubborn old man Hilde takes after. He reached down and unfolded the short-sleeved white coat. Slowly, he slid his arms threw the sleeves then buttoned them up; a perfect fit. His nostrils flared, and he looked back to the couple, watching Siegfried do what no one else could for Brünhilde and keep her together. She just got him back, and I will be damned if I let Ragnarök separate them again. A soft, white aura slowly flowed off Georgios' body. Your daughters took me in after my death. They became like sisters to me. So I hope you will understand…that seeing Hilde like this…I don't think I can forgive you for it. Get ready, Yama. Sir. All of you. The aura grew and expanded into a massive cloud of energy. I'll be Georgios the Godslayer soon.
<>
Back inside the chapel, Skalmöld brought Göll and the others back into the pew. She then took Göll in her arms and sat silently while Göndul held Hlökk. Radgridr and Reginleif sat quietly, taking in what had happened.
"Göll, that was brave of you," Skalmöld whispered. "Beyond anything, you did what none of us could do." She hugged her baby sister tightly. "Thank you."
"This all felt wrong…" Göll replied.
"There was nothing else it could be," Göndul responded. "Dad has always been like that…"
"Even back then," Reginleif started. "He was always…sad. You could see it in his face all the time."
"It wasn't always there," Radgridr said.
"Maybe, but it's not something we can really understand.
"Guess not…"
Suddenly, the air began to cool. Panic erupted from their souls as a large rainbow-colored crack appeared in the air just a few meters in front of him. The cracks spread out in a web, and the open space shattered, revealing a jagged gateway.
"What the hell?!" Skalmöld yelled, placing Göll on the pew and standing. Out of the gateway came a long, glowing weapon, and its wielder, Zahhak, stepped through and landed on the floor. His eyes, devoid of life, turned to them. He blinked a few times, then raised Ascalon and pointed it at Skalmöld.
What persona should I play here? Sadist? Creep? Evil Older Brother? He thought as his blank eyes scanned them. He then saw the Valkyries behind Skalmöld staring at him in fear. Ah. Evil Older Brother it is then. "Hello, girls," He said, his gaze turning wicked as a smile crept across his face. "Where's Dad?"