Valhalla Arena
Medical Wing
Hunahpu's Room
"That…BASTARD!" Hunahpu roared, rising from his bed. Huitzilopochtli and Xbalanque snatched his arms and forced him back down.
"Hunahpu, calm down!" Huitzilopochtli said. "You're too injured to move around!"
"I don't…care! He's making a joke out of Quetz!"
"You think we don't know?!" Xbalanque yelled.
Hunahpu flinched away.
"You think Huitz and I don't want to go down there and do something!? Think about Xolotl!"
"…"
Hunahpu lay back down. He curled his lip and fought back tears. "Fucking damn it, man…"
Xbalanque wrapped his left arm around his brother as Huitzilopochtli pulled out his tablet and tapped away.
Xolo. I forbid you from leaving Tartarus.
The tablet vibrated.
That's Yama's call. He already said no.
Are you going to disobey him?
Xolo, no one in Valhalla could match you in your grief for Quetz's death. I wish you would quit blaming yourself for it, but that's like asking the sun not to set or rise.
The tablet vibrated.
No. He's in charge, and I will respect it.
Huitzilopochtli sighed. Yama, for all the flak you get, only you could make that possible.
Ullr's Globe
Arena
"Does it surprise you?" Quetzalcoatl asked in his tenor.
"To see familiar faces?" Yu Huang continued.
"From the looks of it, yes," Metatron continued. "Despite the 'strength' of Gods, you're no different from every other animal in the cosmos."
"The fear of death," Shango continued, twirling his axes. "The fear of loss. The dread of separation. Unlike those Humans, you can't scream to the Heavens, condemning some unseen power for your pain. No. Only yourselves."
Oya trembled, but maintained her stance.
"You claim strength. Claim to be unrivaled, but none of you know the truth," Metatron spoke, his smile turning into a snarl. "None of you know what lurks in the darkness."
Quetzalcoatl scowled at her. "None of you comprehend how far down the food chain you are."
"Must be nice," Yu Huang sighed. "Such ignorance must be bliss. Like fenced-in cattle."
"But they knew," Shango said, fanning out his arms. "They knew the truth, which is why they did everything they could to prepare." Shango snorted and shot Oya a lazy leer. "A lot of good it did them."
"Do you shut up?!" Oya yelled.
"Silence never works against Gods once we reach this point. Ask Ukko and the Finns," Metatron added. "No. Gods hate being humbled. I bet even you do." Metatron touched his chest. "I wonder how he'd feel seeing you and the rest of your ilk in such a state. I'd wager he'd be beside himself with grief and shame, knowing what he lost to enable your decadent existences…" Metatron smiled. "What I took from him."
Ullr's Globe
Game Master Box Seats
Set's lips curled under his mask as he shuddered in his seat. He breathed deeply, forcing back the rage.
Breath, brother! This is not the time for this! The wispy voice said.
He…is making a mockery of ever—
He is, but letting it get to you threatens everything! You're sitting NEXT to Zeus!
Set froze for a moment. He focused on his breathing and sank into his chair. Slowly, he raised his right hand, brushing it under the chin of his mask and flipping the first and third switches, and rested his chin on it.
"Set," Zeus said. "Not enjoying the show you put together?"
"…I would be lying if I said 'yes,'" Set answered. "It has only been a millennium or so, but the wound is still fresh."
"Yes." Zeus leaned forward, his muscles swelling a little. "As much as I enjoy a good fight, this is unsightly."
"And he doesn't care," Ukko said as a vein rose on his brow. "That bastard wasn't lying. Nothing's beneath him."
Set rose and turned from the others. "Zeus, may I be excused?"
Zeus and Hermes eyed him. "Hmm? Oh, sure."
Set hurried out of the box and slammed the door behind him.
"Hermes."
"Sir?" Hermes responded.
"Leave him alone this time."
Hermes bowed, staying by Zeus' seat.
Ullr's Globe
Arena
Back down in the clearing, Oya turned back to the Metatron construct, meeting its eyes. Why would Metatron's perspective matter? Oya thought. He's older than most, yeah, but he's just an Angel…right?
"He hid it well from you all, but I knew who and what he was. It's odd…I almost miss him," Metatron smiled. "A good quarry leaves such a mark on you, especially when someone else takes the kill."
The air around Oya picked up.
"Ah. Seems like it's time."
"For you to stop stalling?"
"Call it what you want. I got what I needed. Now it's time for the next play."
The four constructs closed their eyes and lowered their heads.
"You're becoming annoying, Oya. Whether insult or praise, I hope you accept what must be done to put you down," Pakkanen's voice spoke through all four. "Talviuni."
All four fell silent, hunched over as if sleeping. Oya scanned the quartet for movement, but nothing.
Nothing? Oya thought. She turned back to Shango's construct, eyeing it. Its muscles, clothes, and even the few blemishes on its porcelain skin were familiar, yet nausea invaded her senses. You all deserved better than this…
She stood out of her stance and walked over to Metatron. I'm used to disappointing people…couldn't tell you how often I complained to you about my people. She sighed. I used to complain about Shango, too. I think it hurt you a little, now that I think about it. Did it make you worry about Hilde and Sieg's relationship? Her forehead reached his chin as she looked at his somber face. Maybe I should have spent more time trying to figure him out than complaining. Maybe he'd be here. Maybe you'd be here, too. She raised the machete. I miss you, Old Man, but Shango's dead because of you… She swung down, her face contorting with rage. AND I'LL NEVER FORGI—
The construct's hand shot up and wrapped around her wrist. Its eyes opened and locked on Oya's.
Then, it flinched.
"Oya?!" Metatron gasped. "What are you—?!" He looked up at his left hand gripping her wrist. "Oh…"
Oya's eye widened. "What…are you?!"
Metatron dropped his polearm and fired his right fist into Oya's solar plexus. Pain exploded through her torso as Metatron released her from his grip, letting her slide across the snow.
She fell to her right knee, gasping for air.
"Pakkanen, you wretched bastard," Metatron said, flexing his fingers. "I would not put it past you…" He looked at the other three constructs stirring to life. Each of them exchanged looks of shock and horror. "…but really? This?!"
"Huang? Shango?!" Quetzalcoatl shouted. "Metatron?!" He looked at his pale body and armor. "What's going on?! I thought I…Oh no…are we?"
Yu Huang's eyes darted all over. "Sir, is this Pakkanen's doing?" He asked.
"Pakkanen?! How?!"
"Please stop yelling. We need to ascertain the situation."
Quetzalcoatl cleared his throat. He looked down at Oya, and his eyes widened. "Wait, Oya? Why're you—" He saw her scales and horns. "What the hell happened to you?"
Shango looked at her, and the world crashed into him. He blinked a few times, and he tried to breathe. "Oya…," He whispered.
"Don't say anything!" She yelled, trying to breathe. "Not a damn word!"
Shango flinched.
"You're just…just puppets!"
"No," Metatron said, solemnly.
Oya snapped her attention to him.
"We are memory." His gaze shifted to the other three. "Pakkanen created us from memory. All that time in Helheim…my worst fears came true."
"What?!"
Kill her… A familiar voice echoed in their minds.
"Cambions," Quetzalcoatl said. "Xolo used to hunt them in Helheim to keep them from overpopulating. Right, Sir?"
Sir?! Oya thought.
Metatron nodded. "It seems his diet of them affected his powers…and here we are. Wait, hold fast." Metatron clapped his hands, then drew ten intersecting lines across his chest. He traced his fingers along the endpoints, then slapped his chest. A brief flash erupted from his chest and extinguished. He breathed deeply. "Thank goodness…" He whispered.
The hell is going on?!
"Sir," Yu Huang said. "Are we dead?"
Metatron nodded, dropping his hands to his sides. "Seems to be the case." Dread swept across his icy face. "By Heaven, what if the girls are seeing this? My boys?"
"Oya," Shango said firmly. "Get up."
Kill her… The voice spoke.
Oya turned back to see him.
"I have no clue what's going on, but I can hear him. I don't think we have much time before this starts up…but why…" His lip quivered. "…Why did you take more power from Oshumare?!"
Oya's breathing returned to a steady pace, and she rose. "Why?"
Ilé-Ifẹ̀
One Millennium Ago
Oya sat on the balcony of an immaculate stone home, rocking in a wooden chair as the sun set into the ocean. The menagerie of colors washing over the waves, the calls of sea birds echoing and fading, the occasional rustling of the trees Shango planted outside their home.
All of it, incomplete.
Those things that she loved and shared, that filled her dreams and memories, mocked her. One part of the symphony was missing, and the rest played without a care for its absence. She tried to hear his footsteps, him laughing to himself.
Silence.
She rested her chin on her right hand. Please…don't let this be real… She thought
Footsteps in the garden below caught her ears. She shot up and looked over the railings, seeing an older, grizzly God whose red eyes matched hers in dark green robes and gray pants. Burns and cuts proudly decorated his arms and face. In his right hand was something wrapped in red cloth, and Oya's eyes locked onto the familiar shape.
"Ogun," She said, barely above a whisper.
"Oya," He replied. He walked up to her front door, but before he reached it, Oya dropped down in front of him. "Can we talk now?"
"Depends." She eyed the covered object in his hands. "What's that?"
"What is rightfully yours." He uncovered, revealing a two-headed axe. Small nicks covered the head, but it still looked new. "When the choirs were returning the mementos from Winchester, I was asked to meet them and retrieve anything that belonged to Shango."
"On Oshumare's order?" Oya, leering at him.
Ogun clicked his tongue. "Yep, but he only got some clothes and junk. Useless stuff, but not this."
"I don't want it."
Ogun's brow furrowed. "So I can keep it and do whatever I want with it?"
"…"
"Oludumare, Eshu, Obatala, and Oduduwa managed to keep Oshumare from knowing this survived. There's a lot of finger-pointing going on right now."
Oya shook her head. "Must be easy to blame someone else for their collective screw-up."
"Hey."
"What?" She groaned, leering at him.
He gently grabbed her right hand and placed the axe in it. "I'm not here to talk politics. I was never good at it in the first place. However…I am just as culpable as they are. I could have said something, too."
Oya's hand locked on her axe, her teeth clenching behind her lips.
"At least you admit it."
"Like you do. We all screwed up, but no one's left feeling like they're holding the hundred-pound bag of shit except you and me."
Oya closed her eyes. Her thumb rubbed gently against the axe as she felt the axe head try to turn her wrist.
Axes are tools AND weapons! Like swords! She heard his missing voice say.
Swords are beautiful, elegant, and perfectly balanced….much like me! Axes are cumbersome and absurd! Who'd use them in real battles?!
She heard his laugh.
Kind of like me? He said once.
Hmm…maybe, but I feel safer with you in a real battle…even with axes.
Tears dropped onto the axe, pulled out by flirting, hiding in debate.
"Why'd he do it, Ogun?" She whispered, her body hunching over, slowly dropping to the ground.
She let it out. Her cries echoed out of her garden and its stone walls. Ogun shook his head and hunched over her, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her rage and sorrow flow into the air, kicking up a slowly growing breeze.
Ullr's Globe
Arena
Oya inhaled deeply. She caught herself before the exhale and closed her eyes. The snow crunched under her sandals as the chilled air bit at her exposed face, fingers, and toes.
"Things have changed for the worse since I lost you," She said. She smiled, but her eyes betrayed her. "To build what we wanted for our people, for the children we wished for but never had. To make that change possible, I had to change. I wish I knew that meant back then, as you did."
Shango crouched down, fanning his axes out to his sides. "Can you forgive me?" He asked.
Oya smiled. "Never!" Because I don't blame you, despite it all. She thought. "And for that, you're going to die…again." She whirled her machete, kicking up air.
Shango smiled. Even dead, you make me mad for you. He thought.
"Shango!" Metatron yelled. "Quetz! Huang!"
"Sir!" They all roared in unison.
"Hold fast for a moment." He turned to Oya. "Oya, context." He surveyed the forest and the projected night sky above them. "You are in Ullr's Globe with Pakkanen?"
"You don't know?" She asked.
"Why would Pakkanen waste time explaining things to us?"
Huang scowled at Oya and flicked his wrists. Out of his sleeves sprang a pair of dao. Oya briefly glanced his way. "…We're in an Apocalypse, organized to pick the thirteenth fighter for our Ragnarök against Humanity."
Metatron puffed his chest. If only I had waited one thousand more years... He thought. "When is it?"
"Started to today. Score's 4-3 with us in the lead. We…lost Baldr and Futsunushi, but we're free of Prometheus."
Good, Oya. Ground yourself. Getting lost in the moment helps no one…
Quetzalcoatl's wings stretched, bent, and curled. "Jumped from one fight to the next," He said. "Getting a bit tired of this…"
KILL HER… Pakkanen's voice echoed.
"Who leads Humanity?" Metatron asked. "Who could convince the Gods—wait…Oya. Is it Brünhilde?"
Oya felt a laugh get caught in her throat.
The construct sighed. "Of course it is. Too much like her brothers."
"And her father."
Metatron smiled as Shango started rolling his shoulders. "More than you know. Oya, his will cannot be pushed off any longer. Are you ready?"
Oya crouched down, shifting her gaze and turning to keep two of the constructs in her sight.
That's the Oya who looked after my girls. Metatron thought. "I am sitting this out. I am ill-suited for coordination. You three deal with her."
All three nodded.
"Be forewarned. That machete can destroy constructs. Avoid any contact with the blade. No blocks, parries, or clashes. Anything."
"Understood," Huang said. "The General of Weapons," Huang spread his feet. "Only two ever forced me to use them. One was the spearman who took my life. You have expectations to meet."
"Oh, she'll meet them. Like that archer that got me!" Shango said, smiling.
"The loudmouthed blonde?" Yu Huang asked. "He beat you?"
KILL HER….
"Not without a fight, mind you!"
Quetzalcoatl sighed. "At least your opponents had weapons. Mine just punched really hard…"
KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL HEEEEEEEEEEEEER….
"Gentlemen," Metatron said. "Get to it."
Huang appeared right next to Oya, his right side to hers.
How'd he- She thought.
Huang swung his right hand at her neck as his left lagged.
Oya spun towards him, swinging back. Their arms collided. Oya felt the cold emanating from his robed arm as he raked it back against her arm, the dao's pommel hooking her machete. Huang inhaled sharply and fired a right kick into Oya's exposed ribs. Pain arched up through her body as he pulled his lead hand blade back, wrenching the machete out of her hand. He swung his other dao at the machete, knocking it towards Metatron.
As it soared, Huang glanced at his dao and flung the melting blade out of his left hand. "SIR!" He roared. "Catch it by the handle!"
Metatron's left hand snatched it out of the air, his grip tight on the handle.
Oya stumbled back, but stayed upright. Damn it, I need that— Something wrapped around her torso. She looked down and saw two scaly, white arms. She looked back, seeing Quetzalcoatl's arms stretched out towards her. His claws dug into her sides, drawing blood. Oya choked down the scream.
Huang stepped forward and swung, his left leading his right, back towards her.
Oya twisted her feet and jumped back. Air kicked up as she jumped away, whirling violently around her as she spun. She felt a sudden jerk and was pulled. She looked back, eyeing Quetzalcoatl reel her in. His wings folded in, and they fired at her head. The radiales slammed into her head. Quetzalcoatl's left foot stepped back.
"Coātl Huetz!" He yelled. and he brought her over his head and slammed her in the snow. His arms unfurled and snapped back to his sides.
Oya's vision blurred, and her ears rang. She rolled onto her back and looked up. A large, blurry figure flew down towards her.
She gasped and scrambled out of the way.
"Ìṣubú Àrá!" Shango roared. His feet smashed down, sending a wall of displaced air in all directions. The wall grabbed Oya and threw her several meters before she skipped against the ground. Oya scrambled to her feet, her head still ringing.
Yu Huang sprinted her way, both dao at his left side. Quetzalcoatl stabbed both arms and his tail into the snow-covered ground. Shango encircled the three, dashing around to Oya's left.
Metatron looked on, holding the machete, edge down, firm in his grip. Oya, you need to figure this out. He thought.
Oya took a few steps back and inhaled deeply. She pushed the air out, then inhaled again. Faster… She thought as her body warmed up. Steam rose from her body. Faster…smoother… Her heart oscillated in her ribcage, shooting pain through her chest. Come on…got to make it count…Ẹ̀mí Ìjò.
The world slowed down as the blood danced its frantic pace through her veins. She raced towards Yu Huang. As she closed the gap, he stepped to his right, swinging his right dao, followed by his left. Oya slid under them and popped to her feet.
Quetzalcoatl's eyes widened as his arms and tail burst from below the pair and swirled towards Oya. Oya bobbed and weaved from them as they stabbed the ground.
Suddenly, pain shot through her left shoulder as something caught her. She looked to her left, locking eyes with Quetzalcoatl, his cold fangs buried in her. She fought against another scream, but felt her throat tearing from the inside. His clawed hands gripped her ankles, and he pulled from both directions, suspending her. She lost her control and yelled as Quetzalcoatl's fangs began tearing her shoulder apart.
Shango raced towards her. Suddenly, he started twisting, jumping from one foot to the other. The ground shook with each step he took, and the displaced snow filled the air.
"Gbigbá Ilẹ̀…" He whispered. His last stomp rocketed high into the air. He lifted both axes high and dropped.
Yu Huang, several meters away, crouched down and brought his front and center.
I'm sorry, Baby! Shang thought as he fell, the pure force of his dance propelling him down like a bolt.
Oya grit her teeth and grabbed Quetzalcoatl's head with her left hand. She reared her head far to the right, the puncture wounds tearing as she strained, and slammed it back into Quetzalcoatl. His head…burst into powder, and his arms pulled Oya forward. Shango slammed into the ground, creating another wave of air and snow.
Oya's legs flew out of Quetzalcoatl's grip as she flew. She bounced against the snow face-first, then rolled as she flew and landed on her feet.
She turned back, seeing Shango rise from the newest crater as a floating cloud of snow reformed into Quetzalcoatl's head.
Oya's eyes shifted over to Metatron, still holding her machete. Then back to the other three.
The past dozen or so seconds played in her accelerated mind. Huang…Quetz…Shango. She tapped her right hip with her index and middle fingers. Huang…Quetz…Shango. That's twice now…maybe? She thought.
Metatron eyed her and flipped the machete, aiming the edge towards her. He beckoned her with it, wearing a wry grin.
…Is he baiting me? She glanced at her torn left shoulder, blood pouring out. She shrugged it, wincing. I can move it, but Ẹ̀mí Ìjò will kill me if it goes on for too long. It's do-or-die time. She crouched down, and the trio raced her way.