Mesopotamia, Eridu, 5500 B.C.
He pierced the Deviant's chest with his laser vision. The beast plummeted through the air like a stone in water. Ikaris remained suspended there, the wind caressing his face. Toward the ground, he saw Eridu, the new city under Eternal care, about fifty kilometers from Uruk. But the settlement had not been planned by them; the humans had already begun construction, taking advantage of the Deviant attention focused on Uruk.
With Uruk safe and Perseus's daughter as its immortal queen. 'Or priestess,' he corrected himself with a mental grimace; gall filled his mouth. The transition was short: only fifty years to leave her as ruler in the name of the gods. Ikaris did not attempt to follow Perseus's procedures; he had barely recovered from his confrontation with that Kro fellow. Most of those years he had been confined to the Domo, recovering the cosmic energy that Kro stole from him.
Exhaling forcefully, he returned to earth. The humans received him like a hero from Sprite's stories. He simply walked among them toward the Domo.
He saw the monument erected for Perseus, because here he was known as Enki. Just being near this place made him feel small. The speed at which he grows in power is ridiculous. He could clear the entire planet of Deviants without help, yet he loved the humans. His obsession with making them evolve was more exasperating than Sersi's. He did not understand how Perseus supported human degradation before them.
He entered the temple. The priestesses approached him, seeking to serve him. He rejected them with a look. He passed in front of them, hearing them whisper: "The next one will be it." It made him gag; they truly were lamentable beings at Perseus's feet.
And what was more lamentable than the protectors of this race? They have all been like dogs biting their own tails. Ajak vetoed the idea of solo hunts, as other missions are normally handled. This has resulted in Thena being unable to be without constant surveillance. Ikaris truly hated it when he was the one who had to fulfill that role.
With a grimace, he entered the ship. He welcomed the pure scent of its interior. He passed through the common room, where Kingo was already present. He did not notice his presence; he was playing with tungsten pellets. He did not understand his companion's new fixation. Since the defense of Uruk, he had been confined to the archives during his breaks.
"Kingo," he greeted with a dry nod.
"Ikaris," he replied with an entranced voice.
Rolling his eyes, he decided to move away. He walked to the communications area. The room was also occupied. Perseus was in front of the projector. Ishtar's image appeared there, standing in simple robes. He did not know what color she wore because the hologram was of a uniform gold. He cursed in his mind.
"Hello, Uncle Ikaris," she saw him from her spot. Ikaris clenched his jaw.
"Runt," he growled.
He had to get out of there, fast.
"Join me, Ikaris," Perseus's sugary voice invited him. Ikaris suffered a twitch in his nose upon hearing it.
"What happened?" he muttered, glaring at the two of them.
"The new group of refugees tried to usurp," Ishtar said in a drawling tone. "I had to kill them to control them."
'Just like that, she murders those of her own kind,' he thought, a hollowness hitting his stomach.
"Just like that?" he asked against his better judgment.
Ishtar sighed, massaging her temples.
"Yes," she ignored Ikaris's grimace. "This would be the fourth uprising in the last decade. Since you left, your deeds have become myths; the new refugees don't believe in you and think they can take control of the city without consequences. Even the shields have become myth; now they are nothing more than sacred trees for the citizens and wasted wood for the welcomed nomads."
"They just want power," Ikaris reasoned with venom.
"And it's better to excise the plague before it rots the whole piece," Perseus nodded. "Uruk is an Eternal city, authorized by Arishem... I don't want to know what he would do if we let the humans damage it."
Ikaris made a face. They were right; it was surprising how fast humans forgot their experiences and turned everything Eternal into a 'myth' when they did not reinforce their presence daily.
"Tell me things are going better for you," she pleaded with puppy-dog eyes.
"Let's just say they are," he replied in a grunt.
Ishtar looked at him with a frown: "That bad, huh?"
"Very bad," Perseus nodded. "We have only faced mindless Deviants."
Ikaris squeezed his hands upon hearing the answer. Two and a half centuries ago, that comment would have been arrogant. Now it was a serious concern. Ajak herself was fumbling, and Arishem showed no interest in direct intervention beyond the weekly reports they were already delivering previously.
"Uruk hasn't had attacks in almost a century," the runt pouted. "I think the shield disillusioned them."
The shield. Ikaris had not been conscious during its construction; Sersi was very enthusiastic about bringing him up to speed. Perseus and Phastos had designed a kind of tree to guard the city's borders. The technical data was beyond him, but it was so scandalous that Arishem himself mediated its development and authorized the construction. According to Sersi, Ajak protested until the last of the trees was planted.
"That is good," he said stiffly.
Ishtar pouted at him, which he ignored. He gave a clumsy farewell and fled the room. He was quickly reaching his limit.
Mesopotamia, Eridu, 5500 B.C.
He left the Domo. He dodged the humans who wanted to revere him and ignored the afternoon sun hitting his eyes. He crossed the canals. The streets of Eridu were confusing; the city was built as it grew and they did not have Phastos's guidance to make it orderly. In that, he could take pride in Uruk; the symmetrical beauty of its structure did not hurt his eyes.
He successfully left the city. He jumped through the reeds and wetlands to put some distance. The wind blew hard, bringing the scent of the marshes. He smiled when the earthy tang touched his nose; even if Ikaris complained about it, this planet had a way of growing on you.
He reached his destination: a small clearing of water he used for his training. Just thinking about the training brought a smile to his face; in Perseus's words: 'Eat shit.' The first century had been an uphill battle; he was not a person accustomed to reading and had to study a lot. He spent the first decade drilling the basics. Several times he was tempted to give it all up and go on with his life. On those days he would wake up trembling, carrying Makkari; he would see Ishtar bleeding out. With the same face, he would return to study; he was so obsessive that his companions constantly teased him, saying: "A Deviant changed him." He always smiled at them, though his heart was stabbed upon hearing them.
Releasing a sigh, he shook off the bad vibes. If he wanted to progress, he had to concentrate. Inhaling, he closed his eyes, accessed the sea of cosmic energy within him, and allowed it to flow to his hands. The pellets began to spin on their own; the opposing charges made them rotate on their own axis.
This exercise, seemingly easy, had cost him many injuries. The first century was a nightmare because he managed to melt tungsten in his hands or they exploded in his face. It reached a point where he begged Sersi to keep making these pellets for him. In the end, it was worth it; now he could concentrate the forces correctly to avoid further accidents.
Now he had begun stage three of his training: release. Truthfully, he had felt ready for this part for years, but Domo insisted he perfect everything.
'Like keeping me for fifty years learning molecular density,' he thought with resentment.
He positioned himself with his hands in the shape of a pistol, aiming at the reeds in front of him. Energy ran through his fingers, forming a firing rail. The pellet followed the traced route. A powerful boom went off in his hand, sending him flying. The shock knocked the wind out of his lungs. His arm throbbed; through his blurred vision, he saw it bent unnaturally. He lay there for nearly an hour before he could stand back up.
'Report before going out,' he thought, limping toward the city. He didn't want the others to not know where he was if the worst happened. 'I left myself too exposed, idiot.'