Sir Leodegrance rose from his unconscious state.
His body screamed at him every muscle, every joint, every bone crying out in protest. But he pushed through. He had to see. Had to understand what was happening around him.
He raised his head.
The sky was black.
Not with clouds. With rods. Thousands of them falling, raining, crashing down like the judgment of an angry god. They filled the air, blocking out the grey light of Valhalla, turning the battlefield into a world of shadow and death.
He watched Sir Kay spin his dragon spiral the blade moving in circles, in patterns, in a desperate dance to protect the fallen Lancelot.
He watched Sir Galahad cut the sky splitting space, redirecting the rods to fall on empty sand.
He watched the rods fall.
And the pain kicked in.
It was absolute. Like nothing he had ever felt. Burning spears throughout his entire body in his chest where Titus had stomped, in his arms where his hands had been severed, in his soul where hope used to live. Every nerve was fire. Every breath was agony.
And followed by it were his tears.
They poured from his eyes hot, uncontrollable, shameful. He had not cried since he was a child. Had not allowed himself the luxury of tears. But now, lying broken on the sand, watching his comrades fight and die and struggle, he could not stop them.
He cursed.
"What's wrong with all this? " His voice was raw, cracked, barely audible over the crash of falling rods. "Is it really a sin for a man to dream?"
He looked at the sky at the rods, at the grey, at the indifference of this world.
"All we wanted was a world of our own. A place where we could live. Where we could rest. Where we could finally stop fighting."
His tears fell onto the sand, darkening it, mixing with the blood.
"Perhaps we were too weak to dream." His voice dropped. "Or was it that we were too greedy?"
He thought of Camelot. Of the Round Table. Of the knights who had gathered there brothers in arms, friends in life, comrades in death.
"Is wanting a world for your brothers for you to live in... is that too greedy?"
He closed his eyes.
"No."
The word was quiet. But it was certain.
"It's the gods."
He opened his eyes. They were red from tears, from blood, from hatred.
"They are the reason for our suffering. Every death is on them. All for their entertainment."
He looked at the rods still falling, at the knights still fighting, at the pointlessness of it all.
"And yet they offer a simple reward. Immortality." He laughed a bitter, broken sound. "What is immortality when there is nothing left?"
His voice cracked.
"If I am immortal... when everything around me is dead... what's the use of it?"
He felt great hate in his heart.
Such pain. Almost as if his heart was bleeding pumping not blood, but agony through his veins. The wound Titus had given him the stomp on his chest, the crushing of his ribs was nothing compared to this. This was deeper. This was spiritual.
"I know it might be pretty stupid of me, at this time." He took a ragged breath. "But I want to pray."
He looked up at the sky not at the rods, but beyond them. At whatever lay above Valhalla. At whatever gods were watching.
"I want to pray to any god that can hear me."
His voice rose.
"PLEASE END THIS SUFFERING IN THIS WORLD! "
The words tore from him, raw and desperate.
"END IT ALL! TURN THIS WORLD TO DUST BUT ALSO TO PARADISE! "
His tears flowed faster.
"AND PLEASE... "
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"...kill all the gods. "
There were no gods that heard his cry.
No divine intervention. No bolt from the heavens. No answer from the indifferent powers that ruled this place.
But one heard him.
One who was false.
Darlington's ears his observer's ears caught every word. Every tear. Every crack in Leodegrance's broken voice. He listened to the prayer of the dying knight to the desperation, to the rage, to the hope that had finally, terribly given way to despair.
And he answered.
His voice came not from the sky, not from above, but from within Leodegrance's own mind a presence, a promise, and a weight.
"Your prayers are answered."
The words were quiet. But they were absolute.
"I will end it all."
Leodegrance lay on the sand, tears still flowing, his body still broken.
But something had changed.
What could this false god do?