Winchester
One Millennium Ago
In wooden bleachers surrounded by vast wooden towers, Pakkanen sat alone. Like those around him, he stared up at the floating hard-light screen, watching the end of Round Five play out.
Shango, the mighty and virile Supreme God of the Yoruba, lay littered with scorching holes all over his chest, legs, and arms. Gwalchmei, with swept-back blonde hair and fierce brown eyes, but one swollen shut, covered in burns, cracked armor, and missing pieces of chain mail, walked out of the woods towards the fallen God.
Serves him right. Pakkanen thought as Shango's breathing shallowed and cracks raced all over his body. Acting above his station.
Gwalchmei kneeled next to Shango and closed his eyes, praying.
Shango looked up at him, smiled, and closed his eyes. "…Oya…"
Pakkanen's eyes widened. Final words? Between foes? Romantic nonsense.
Shango's body glowed green and shattered.
"Ladies and Lords!" An Angel above the crowd roared. "Bolts and Blazes! Axe and Arrows! This titanic clash of the storm and flame has finally come to an end! As the sun continues to rise, Humanity has done the same and gained the lead! The Winner of Ragnarök Round Five! GWALCHMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEI AP GYWAR!"
The Humans on the opposite side of the arena cheered and roared as Gwalchmei rose and held his burning bow high. A light flashed from his hand, and a blonde, aged angel with orange wings appeared next to him.
Pakkanen looked over to his right, eyeing a dejected Metatron staring at the floating screen.
Your spawn teams up with a human and kills one of your pupils. Reap what you sow, Metatron. He thought. He turned his attention back to the screen, then the Humans, eyeing a familiar woman in a red dress with flaxen hair staring daggers at him. Keep staring. I will send you to your mate before long.
Ullr's Globe
Arena
"Ah…," Pakkanen said as his teeth hardened, taking on an eerie, polished surface. "I completely forgot."
Oya kicked off the ground and swung her machete down. Pakkanen stepped to the left while swinging his right claws at the back of her head. Oya ducked with looking and swatted his arm with her blade's flat. He spun while she stood and extended his foot into a push kick. Oya caught it on the flat and skidded back. A slight pain shot up her arms, and her eyes widened with shock.
"That look you gave me earlier."
Oya's gaze sharpened.
"Yes, that one. Drystan's mate gave me that same look every time we locked eyes after I did him in." Pakkanen's maw peeled away, revealing a toothy grin that reflected the moon's light. "It was exquisite. Did you know his last words were mewling over his mate? Maybe that was her." Pakkanen crouched down and kicked off, racing forward. "Shango did the same!"
"The hell is wrong with you?!" Oya yelled. Pakkanen dropped into a slide, extending his left claw towards Oya's feet. Oya planted the machete down, edge towards Pakkanen. His claws slammed into it, and Oya felt the force roll up her right hand as the blade dislodged from the dirt. On instinct, she jumped up, and the force pushed her into a front flip.
Pakkanen skidded back onto his feet and ran back. Oya's feet touched the ground, and she turned to her right, ducking under a right claw swipe. She dashed towards him and swung at the back of Pakkanen's neck, but he stepped to the left and stretched out his fingers. He spun back around and thrust his claws. Oya blocked both thrusts and flicked her blade at Pakkanen's throat. He stepped back and swung his arms inward. The blade barely missed his throat as his arms extended towards Oya's head.
Got you….
The claws closed in on Oya.
Oya's right arm snapped in a sharp clockwise spin…and Pakkanen's claws crashed into each other and fell on the ground. Oya stepped in between the new stumps on his arms and slashed diagonally from his left shoulder down to his right hip.
…and never underestimate a God! She thought. Pakkanen's eyes widened. The momentum of Oya's slash spun her around. She fired a backwards push kick into Pakkanen's upper half as it started sliding off the bottom, sending him several meters back as his lower half crumbled to the ground.
She jumped back several meters, eyeing the remains of her opponent.
Jarl, floating above, blinked a few times. Not again! She thought. I can't have another fight go like Match One! The ratings'll plummet! She floated over towards Pakkanen's upper half.
He turned his head towards her and leered.
He's still alive?!
Pakkanen sighed as his arms and lower half started floating. They flew towards him and reconnected, the cuts vanishing. He rose and shook his head.
"Seems no one was fooled. Surprising," He said, his tone carrying a hint of irritation.
The hell are you on?! I was! Jarl thought.
"A monster of living ice and snow," Oya said. "No one's dumb enough to think that'd kill you."
"You'd be surprised…and you're not as smart as you think if you came here alone."
"You think I need help?"
"Gods always do. It's why you hole up in fortified lands far from where we can reach you…and why Shango died."
Oya leered. "Must be a painful burden living with such an ego," Oya said.
"Someone must."
Oya chuckled.
"Something funny?"
"Inside joke. You wouldn't understand." A soft, translucent purple aura emanated from her body, and the air around her began to whirl, kicking up her braids. "But I can show you."
Ullr's Globe
Yoruba Box Seats
Far from the battle, Eshu sat in the loaded Box, Ogun to his right and Oludumare to his left. "Did…did she just make a joke?" He asked.
"I…guess so," Ogun said. "Seems like she's getting back in form."
"Was wondering if she's done testing the waters," Oludumare said, growing a wry grin.
Ullr's Globe
Arena
The air and aur whirled and twisted around Oya, slowly expanding out over the clearing. A scent wafted through Pakkanen's nose, and his icy fur cracked a little as it stood on end. He flicked his wrists, and the fur on his arms flattened into a smooth, polished surface.
Is he smoothing his fur? Maybe to reduce surface tension? No. He's compressing the ice to harden it. And why is he so damn heavy? Someone of that size shouldn't weigh that much…He's an animal, but he's not stupid… Oya thought. Regeneration, along with body modification…. She sighed. It's almost unfair. Oya began swaying, her feet slowly moving below her to keep her standing. Must be eating at him to have those trump cards already out in the open. But mine? She smiled as she continued moving gently through the aura-filled air. I don't need mine. His are more than enough…dance with me, Shango…
Oya's body started swaying, letting her feet gently lift off the ground. Her left foot stepped forward, and her right tapped the ground behind the left's heel. She stepped back and did it again, then side to side. Pakkanen's ears perked up and twitched, and his head began gently bobbing. A dull thumping sound, barely above a whisper, began beating in his ears in sync with her steps. She picked up speed, and the thumping sound grew louder and louder, yet the dirt under her barely moved. Her leg muscles swelled under her dress, and the wind kicked up around her. Her dreads danced in the wind as sparks filled the air around her body.
Alùjá Ṣàngó ìkà.
The deafening crack of a lightning strike filled the arena. Oya stretched out her right arm and disappeared.
Pakkanen raised his hardened arms and compressed his entire body into a hard-packed ice.
"Rautainen Lumipenkki," Pakkanen hissed. His eyes darted left and right as his body turned immobile. Where are you? He thought.
A burst of thunder bellowed high above him. He looked, seeing Oya rocketing down, edge-first. His eyes widened with shock as he raised his arms above his head, crossing them. Oya roared as the machete smashed into his fortified arms, displacing air around the pair. The ground under Pakkanen gave way slightly as cracks spread across his arms.
Clever! He roared mentally. He somersaulted back, kicking Oya out of the air as he flipped. He landed on his feet and turned to her. But not— He crossed his arms again as Oya slashed at him, rattling his body and sending him flying. That should have snapped her spine!
Before he landed, Oya appeared under him and swung up, smashing his back. His chest slammed against his crossed arms, shattering them as he flew up.
Oya crouched down as the air encircled her in a funnel. It accelerated, and she fired out of it, straight up at Pakkanen.
"I'll make you wish you kept playing dead!" Oya roared. Pakkanen's head turned 180 degrees to face her and leer at her. Her eyes widened as his body expanded into a massive sphere. She slashed and crashed through it, sending ice everywhere. Air whirled and spun below her as her ascent slowed. She stopped and fell, landing on the spinning air as large chunks of ice and snow fell. Each shard impaled the earth.
Oya scanned the ice, looking for movement. Jarl, not too far from her, watched on.
Is he playing dead again? Did she get him? She thought. This is getting ridiculous! How am I supposed to commentate when I don't know what's going on?!
Oya's silver eyes darted from shard to shard, her blood running cold. Something's wrong! She thought. I sense him, but I'm not acclimated to this power yet!
She looked back, then to the sides, then up. Her eyes widened with shock.
"Instincts not as sharp as you hoped," Pakkanen's disembodied lupine head spoke, still leering at her. "But you're durable, I'll give you that."
"…How?" Oya whispered. Loud cracks began filling the air from below.
"Not 'How.' I just am."
The ice below exploded, filling the air with cold, snow, and ice. Dozens of jagged shards raced up at her. Oya tightened her core, and dozens of makeshift platforms formed out of the air. She blitzed across them, spinning and hopping to avoid the ice as each tried to cut and impale her.
"Shango tried that move back in Winchester," Pakkanen said monotonously as the shards of ice revolved around his floating head. "It didn't work then. Why would it now? Ah. That's right, because you didn't know how he died. Just that he did. Just like you will." The spears stopped in mid-air and pointed at Oya. "Jäätynyt Purema."
Each jagged shard raced towards her and expanded. Some melded together, forming massive ballistae.
Oya jumped off one of the platforms and landed under a newly formed one. She turned to face the onslaught and inhaled. Her back and arm muscles expanded as her eyes turned bloodshot.
"Ìjó Idà Afẹ́fẹ́!" Oya roared as her dreads whirled like a funnel. Her right arm vanished into a blur as she rose to the balls of her feet.
The closest ballistae came in range of her machete…and were cleaved to pieces as she danced. The rest flew behind it towards her, but like the first, once they reached her blade's range, they were cut to pieces, like butter flying towards a searing blade.
"U…U…," Jarl stammered. "UNBELIEVABLE! Oya's cutting through a swarm of frozen missiles like it's nothing!" Holy cow, Boss! She thought. These guys are who Set wants for Round Thirt—oh crap. Jarl's jaw dropped as her uncovered eye widened. "Oh, man…" She looked up high above Pakkanen's listlessly leering head and saw the glacier. "Oh no…" She pushed a button on her platform, and a hard light barrier formed around her. "Boss, I don't get paid enough…"
Oya swung at the last one, cutting through it. Suddenly, she let out a small gasp. Mid-swing, just as her field of vision cleared, she saw it. Damn it, I wasn't paying attention...where is all this ice coming from?!
"I believe Marduk and Ryujin both tried something like this, failing to know how the original does it. Prey acting like Predators…" Pakkanen's eyes widened into a vicious glare. "And you all the gall to think you are my equals?!" The glacier started its descent. "Tunturivyöry!"
Oya's platform vanished, and she fell. Landing feet first amidst the decimated ballistae, she looked up at the oncoming glacier. "I…am not prey…" Air and electricity kicked up around as she extended her right arm behind her, gripping her machete hard enough to draw blood. Her left foot stepped forward as two small twisters formed from her temple into makeshift horns as her dress billowed behind her like a bristled tail.
Among the Yoruba, few are ignorant of the tempestuous relationship between Oya and Shango. Sometimes, they are passionate lovers. Sometimes, almost bitter enemies. They are each other's worst enemy and greatest friends. As deeply as they embraced, there were moments they wished to strangle the other. Such is marriage at times. However, their tempestuous nature was in perfect harmony on the battlefield. Such was their harmony that their strengths meshed together to form war-ending techniques only rivaled by Supreme Gods like Zeus, Odin, or Oludumare. To spin and cleave flesh like wind. To dash and split the earth like lightning.
This was one such technique.
The metal of Oya's blade cracked as red lightning arched across its edge. Oya raised her right foot and spun on her left. She lifted her machete high above her head. As her right foot sailed down and smashed the earth below it, her machete came down.
"ÌJÌ-ÀRÁ…OLÙYÀ AYÉ!" Oya roared.
The forest around her bent away. Trees bent and swayed, fighting against the force trying to uproot them, as a flash of red light erupted from Oya's blade. For a brief moment, Ullr's globe was painted red. Bright red light and lightning reflected off the oncoming glacier's surface like a cloudy diamond. Pakkanen's eyes squinted from the flash.
As it fell, the glacier split cleanly into two and fell away. Pakkanen's eyes went dark as his head split clean down the middle and exploded into ice and snow.
"WHA-WHAT?!" Jarl yelled.
The bisected glacier crashed onto the forest below, sending a blistering gale throughout the globe. Oya stood tall as the sparks and air flowing around her settled and vanished. She looked down at her machete, eyeing the cracks, flaking metal, and the pale surface under the metal.
Shit…that took more than I thought… She thought, trying to catch her breath. Oshumare's power is incredible…
Jarl soared overhead, scanning the decimated arena. Ice, ice everywhere, and nothing else—oh, there's Oya. She thought. Let's wait a bit… She squinted her eye and scanned the area again. This guy keeps killing the momentum. I wish he'd make up his mind and stop doing this.
Oya looked around. She felt something flow into her eyes and wiped her free hand on her brow. "When did he—?"
Suddenly, her hand froze. She tapped her fingers on her forehead and pushed against it, but felt her breathing shallow.
Two small horns, bony in texture, punctured out of the top of her forehead.
She sucked air through her teeth. "Damn it, already?"
Suddenly, a howl erupted from the forest. Oya looked in its general direction. Then another behind her, then two more to her left, and several more all around her. The ice around her started shaking and cracking.
"Oh, come on!" She yelled. "That didn't kill you?!"
The howling immediately stopped. Oya heard whispering from every direction. She turned and looked around, trying to find something amongst the dark forest and frozen debris. Where is he? How is he alive?
She stared at the closest slab of ice and saw a familiar pair of cyan eyes.
"Why would it?" Pakkanen asked.
The slab cracked and shook.
"Damn it!" Oya broke into a sprint. The slab exploded. Several more around Oya exploded as she ran, sending shrapnel her way. She dashed into the trees, evading the ice. "How is this possible?!"
"Did you think this was a fight?" Pakkanen's voice echoed through the forest as more and more ice exploded, filling the air with snow. "Of course you did."
Oya jumped up into a tree, evading more shrapnel. She reached a thick branch and looked back, seeing the two glaciers rumble and crack.
"This is not a fight…" Pakkanen's voice said, echoing.
They exploded, sending blistering cold wind through the forest. Oya stabbed her machete into the tree and braced herself. The wind smashed and lifted her off her feet, clinging to her machete.
Ullr's Globe
Yoruba Box Seats
"This…this is just wrong," Eshu whispered.
Ogun shook his head. "What the hell did you allow into the tournament, Set?"
Ullr's Globe
Game Master Box Seats
"Well, this is unexpected," Zeus said, sitting to Set's left and opposite Ukko and Nyrrikki.
"Sir, I don't think I've seen such a power since the Titanomachy," Hermes said. "How is he creating and controlling so much ice?"
"That monster is ice," Ukko scowled. "When he doesn't have prey to hunt, he absorbs water to pacify his hunger. The wilderness outside our homes is barren because of him…"
"How much water has he absorbed?"
"If I am right…he probably has enough water in his body to equate the last time Midgard was flooded," Set answered.
Hermes looked at Set as a slight chill ran down his neck.
"But that amount of water has a cost. Pakkanen could only contain that much if he's starved, and his hunger hinders his ability to control it effectively. Despite what we're seeing, he's nowhere near as dangerous as we think."
Lord Zeus was right. Hermes thought. Only you would know that much about Pakkanen. Hermes turned his attention back to the arena, watching the wind settle. "My word…that quickly?"
Ullr's Globe
Arena
Oya got her feet back on the branch, feeling the snow crunch under her sandals.
"Well…," She said, eyeing the snow-covered forest, field, and hills. "This is getting better…" She pulled her machete out of the trunk. Something crunched the snow below, and she looked down. "Yeah…definitely getting better by the second…"
Dozens of large white wolves, each with a pair of cyan eyes, stared up at her. The pack extended several meters out from the tree and into the open, snow-covered field.
"This is not a fight, Oya," The wolves spoke in perfect unison before bearing their fangs in contorted smiles. "This…is a hunt… and it seems…" All of them focused their gazes on her bleeding forehead, also seeing her left eye's pupil shrink into a slit. "…I have found the best kind of game…"
Valhalla Arena
Medical Wing
Ryujin's Room
Far from the battle, Barong sat next to Ryujin's bed. As he saw Oya start moving, his breathing shallowed, and his body started convulsing.
No… He thought as his pupils dilated. …ANOTHER ONE?! IS THIS TOURNAMENT FULL OF THEM?! He fought as hard as he could against his instincts. WHY MUST THIS BE SO UNFAIR?! I NEED TO BE DOWN THERE!
From his medical bed, Ryujin squinted his eyes, trying not to draw attention from his unwanted guardian. Man…he's still here… He thought. He looks like he's about to piss himself…weirdo…
"Ryujin," Barong said. "How much longer until you're fully healed?"
His eyes widened. "Oh, come on!" Ryujin yelled, sitting up.
"What? Water and Sea Gods possess the quickest healing ability. I'm surprised it took you this long."
"It would've been sooner if you weren't here!"
Barong looked over at him, going still. "Oh. Really?" His stare softened.
"…No…that was uncalled for…"
"Apology accepted." He turned back to the monitor. "When did it happen? When did so many of you start becoming this strong?"
"Man, I don't know. What makes you think I would?"
"Out of the other six, I thought you were the most dangerous. It's why they rigged it for you to fight me."
"Well, I mean I am pret—hold on. Rigged?"
"Yes. Set's trying to kill Pakkanen and me. Makes sense, since the two of us are problems for his plans."
"I get Pakkanen. Why you?"
"I am why Valhalla is the way it is, and Set has not forgiven me for it."
"Huh?"
"...Not important right now, but that is."
"Sure…I mean, that's a nasty power he's got, but it's nothing I can't handle, and Oya's strong as hell, too. If he gets out of hand, I'll take care of him."
"It's not him that worries me." Barong turned back to the monitor. "It's her."
Ryujin looked towards the monitor and felt his heart drop. "Shit…"
"You've seen this?"
"More than I want to admit. A long time ago. And I mean a long time ago. It was outlawed until recently, and even then, only for a few exceptions, like that ass, Baldr."
"What was?"
"Making weapons from Primordial Beasts. If that machete is what I think it is…she's running out of time."
"Who else would do this to themselves?"
"How should I know? And what do you mean by 'who else?'"
Barong hung his head. He could hear her laughter, her joy. Then her screams, her fury. The depravity dripping from her voice. Tell him about me. He imagined her saying, her voice carrying a mixture of longing and scorn.
"The reason I am here, and why I need your help."