Nuada waved to the crowd as he walked back to his entrance. The Gods' cheers erupted from the stands, fists flew into the air, and several clapped and whistled at his performance. Despite his burns and melted armor, he carried himself regally, his back straight and stride smooth. The gates slowly opened right in time for him to pass through. Set and Zeus both looked down at him while he made his way out.
"Do you think he said anything?" Set asked. Zeus stroked his beard, contemplating the situation.
"I doubt it. Nuada's tight-lipped on things, and if there's a secret you want kept, you bet he's the one to keep it." Zeus grabbed another pretzel and bit into it. "Besides, it doesn't matter in the end since nothing can be done with it now that he's passed on. Even if that Cambion got what he needed and pulled off some miracle…we'd still win regardless."
"When we fight, we win. Such are the Gods." Set responded.
"Exactly. However," Zeus pat Set on the back. "That was one hell of a show! Well done!" Zeus laughed. "Humanity is not going down without a fight. Honestly, I'm amazed Brunhilde managed to get her hands on a Cambion. She's already bold enough to announce Romulus is amongst her ranks. It's all getting…" Zeus expanded into his muscular form, towering over everyone in the box. "…exciting!" Set shirked away a little.
"Indeed, Lord Zeus." Hermes chimed in. "Her roster continues to amaze. Were the circumstances any different, I don't doubt even Nuada could have fallen."
"But Nuada came through, like he always does," Ares added. "How did he do that anyway? I've never heard of Nuada getting those upgrades."
"He reached out to Hephaestus for them."
"Hephaestus?" Set and Ares asked simultaneously.
"Yes. Within the Heavens, Hephaestus stands unrivaled in smithing and technology. Foreign tools, weapons, and such are not outside his skillset."
"That's not surprising; it's why he was picked to fight. However, it is surprising that Nuada asked for help outside of Eire. Especially from the Greeks." Set added.
"Ha! You make it sound like we're at odds." Zeus said, chuckling. Set stared at him, bemused by that last comment. "I mean, we are, but the peace maintained by the Valhalla Council makes such things possible."
"You have a point," Set said. He pulled out his tablet and typed up a message. He waited for a few seconds, staring at the screen. The one going next was a problem for sure, but his strength and ability were exceptional. On par with Nuada and Zeus? No, but strong enough to be relied upon when needed. His tablet vibrated in his hand and lit up. He looked at the screen. Only three words in the response.
Ready to go.
Set smiled under his mask. He pulled up a blank message, filled it in, and sent it.
"Something got you excited?" Zeus asked, leaning over Set's shoulder to look at the screen.
"A little. The next round is set to start immediately, so I made sure the next two Fighters were prepared." Set tilted the tablet so Zeus could get a better look. Zeus' face contorted in pure joy.
Contest for Round 6: Storytelling; Villains
Fighter for the Gods in Round 6
Gabriel
VS
Fighter for Humanity in Round 6
Vlad Dracul Tepes
"Get ready."
Einherjar Barracks
Back in the lower halls of Valhalla, Brunhilde started the next step of her plan to prepare for Storytelling. Both rounds five and six were squared away, but now another hurdle stood in her path. She stood outside the Fighter for Round 7's room. In front of her was a solid stone door, emblazoned with a stag crossing a stream, around its neck a chain of circles. Dragonflies adorned the door's four corners and floated around the stag's antlers. Brunhilde pressed her hands against the stone door and pushed. Despite her slender frame, Brunhilde possessed raw strength comparable to her younger sister Thrud. In their younger days, the two would compete in wrestling and other feats of strength. It is no surprise, then, that despite the massive door's weight and density, it slid across the floor, scraping it along the way.
Why he asked for such a heavy door, I'll never know. Brunhilde thought to herself as she pushed it. A sizable crack appeared between the door and threshold. Brunhilde walked on through, closing the door behind her. The room of her Fighter was open to the outside; there was no roof overhead, and it was reminiscent of a courtyard. To her left was a rock garden, and her right a small pond, koi fish gliding under the water's surface. The pond was connected to a small stream that stretched across the room and flowed under a large red wooden bridge straight ahead of the room's entrance. The soft sounds of the water were calming to her ears. She made her way to the bridge. She could see the other side of the courtyard, a cleared dirt floor with a cloth cover over it and a large, short-legged rectangular table sitting square in the center. On one end, a large cherry-blossom tree stood tall, its branches full of flowers in bloom. Near the roots and sitting on a cushion at the edge of the table was a short, stocky, dark-haired older man. He wore his hair in a chonmage, and the hair on his temples began to show signs of graying. He wore an orange hakama with a white haori over it. On the haori's back stitched in red was the iconic Mon of the last Shogunate to exist in Japan; the three wild gingers of the Tokugawa Clan. He was yelling at the four men in front of him, all in hakamas and haoris of different colors. All four towered over him, but to Brunhilde, the man's presence made the others feel small. Looks like a father scolding his sons. Brunhilde smiled. She made her way across the bridge, it creaked under her feet with each step. Had the five men noticed her presence, they did not show it. The other four seemed too scared to take their focus off the older man.
"I have told you once before, I have told you a thousand times, you are not fighting." The older man said.
Ieyasu Tokugawa
Founder and first Shōgun of the Tokugawa Shogunate
(Japan)
Brunhilde could feel the aura of the older man. Stern, fierce, and almost stubborn, but vast and warm.
"But your Liege, Tadakatsu was requested personally by the Valkyries. If we deny them without any true reason, it would seem like we're cowardly." The one to his immediate right answered. He wore a red hakama with a light blue haori, his silver hair done up in a mullet.
Naomasa Ii
One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Tokugawa
(Japan)
"Exactly." The one opposite of Naomasa said. He wore a green haori and yellow hakama, his short black hair swept to the side, and his eyes framed with thick, brown glasses. "Humanity's future is at stake here. The fact that Tadakatsu was requested is almost an expectation."
Tadatsugu Sakai
One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Tokugawa
(Japan)
"Were the situation different, I would agree with you, Lord Tokugawa. However, the rules for 'Storytelling: Heroes' are perfect for him. Plus…" Tadatsugu looked over to the tallest one among them, a samurai in a black hakama and silver haori. He sat a head above the others, his wild black hair sticking out in all directions, rugged side burns equally unkempt, and deep brown eyes full of energy. "Tadakatsu already accepted the request."
Ieyasu glared at Tadakatsu. Tadakatsu met his gaze…then turned away, sweat starting to flow from his brow.
"You accepted without my knowledge, nay, my approval? What the hell's gotten into you? And what's with the door!? It took the four of us to get in here and see you, Tadakatsu!"
"Does it matter?" Brunhilde asked.
Ieyasu looked up at her, his glare never waning. "It matters a great deal. A daimyo under me and one of my Shitenno acts without my knowledge for a tournament he could die in."
Brunhilde stared back at Ieyasu, not even blinking. "Your reign ended centuries ago. The Tokugawa Shogunate ended just over 300 years ago. Other than their loyalty to you, you have no real authority here. Tadakatsu Honda is free to do as he wishes." She then smiled. "Besides, you think he'll lose?"
"Lady Brunhilde!" The fourth Samurai, wearing a white hakama and purple Haori, his black hair slicked back to show his shining forehead.
Yasumasa Sakakibara
One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Tokugawa
(Japan)
"Please refrain from speaking in such a manner to Lord Tokugawa!" Yasumasa said.
Brunhilde looked over to him. "I might, if he proves why his word and authority are enough to sway me to take Tadakatsu off the Roster. I am allowed substitutes, but Tadatsugu is right. No one can pull a win off in Heroes like Tadakatsu could, even against his expected opponent."
Ieyasu looked from Brunhilde over to his Shitenno, the four powerful Samurai who aided him in the Sengoku Era. Who helped bring peace to their homeland? He remembered the days of constant war and bloodshed. The days that it felt like his dreams were far too out of his reach to attain. It was due to these four and the alliances he made that such a world was possible. A world he hated, knowing that these four could not belong in it. "Tadakatsu," Ieyasu spoke. "It's not too late to rescind your offer. I do not doubt your strength, but…I do not want you putting your life on the line again. You fought hard, but just like everyone here, you lost so much of your time back then to war. Our lives were nothing but constant conflict, and you want to do it again here in the afterlife!? Why!?"
Tadakatsu held himself back. Ieyasu, more than anyone, understood the pain and loss of war. He suffered as a political prisoner in his youth, fought on the frontlines, and even fought unseen political battles against his allies Nobunaga Oda and Hideyoshi Toyotomi. How many times did he struggle and fight back against their grand ambitions to keep their war-torn nation alive? How many times did he ensure the four of them were fed, armed, and had faithful allies? How hard he fought to ensure there would be days the four of them could finally lay down their arms and rest? None of them would admit it. They could not. They knew Ieyasu's ambitions for peace and stability mattered far more than anything to the man they swore fealty to. That dream was beautiful…to Ieyasu. To the four, war was beautiful. Combat was beautiful. The sounds of charging soldiers, spears thrusting into the enemy, arrows whistling as they flew overhead, swords slashing, cannons firing, cheers of victory, and delicious food and drink afterwards. To those four, every day was a dream. Then peace came, and the dream ended. Their passion was gone. They lived as warriors, but died as old men. Valhalla was no different for them. In the afterlife, peace was commonplace due to the Valhalla Accords keeping the peace amongst the Gods. How badly they wished for combat. How badly they desired once more to put their lives on the line, Tadakatsu more than any of them. He turned back to face his Lord, his eyes full of vigor.
Tadakatsu Honda
One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Tokugawa
(Japan)
"Ieyasu," Tadakatsu said, smiling, his baritone voice oddly peaceful. "It's like she said; I'm afraid you don't have any real authority anymore, so I will do what I want." The other three samurai stared at him, dumbfounded. Ieyasu's face slowly turned red, veins began popping up under his skin. Tadakatsu laughed. "My Lord, I'm just messing with you!" The other three exhaled and deflated. Ieyasu remained red-faced. "Hmmm…the truth is…I miss it. I know you do not look fondly on those times. However, when the war ended, you blazed and shone like a beacon guiding the people. The four of us… Our inner fires were snuffed out alongside so many others. I want that feeling, one last time." Tadakatsu clenched his hands tightly. "I want to fight once more, and feel alive again."
Ieyasu exhaled, his face returning to its original color. "I know…and cannot deny it. I knew you four loved battle. I knew that and used your love and loyalty to achieve my selfish dream without regard to your futures. I placed our people over you, but now I am trying to change course." Ieyasu's gaze softened. "Are we just that different?"
Brunhilde watched on, staying silent as the moment continued. "No, my Lord. We'll sacrifice our desires to fulfill your dream one hundred times over."
"But you still wish to go."
"Yes. It's not just the conflict my soul yearns for. It's a cause. And this cause feels just like yours back then. That's why I joined without your consent. I knew you would ask the same of me. It's no longer our nation, but our race entirely. Who am I to deny such a task, and disgrace our names?"
Please, he looked at Randgriz for one second and immediately signed up. Brunhilde thought. This guy cannot say no to his passions.
Ieyasu scratched the clean-shaven part of his head. "I hate when you're like this." He inhaled and exhaled through his nose. "It's not like I can stop you anyway. However, you must return to us."
Tadakatsu beamed. The other three looked at the two and smiled. "I won't let you down!" Tadakatsu said, jumping up to his feet.
"Brunhilde," Ieyasu said without turning to face her. "I'm trusting you with him."
Brunhilde bowed deeply. "Of course." She straightened back up, her eyes full of confidence. "Now, I must take my leave. Got to continue setting things up for the upcoming rounds." The other four stood up alongside Tadakatsu and bowed to her. She bowed in response, turned back, and walked away from the table. She crossed the bridge, opened the door, and exited the room.
"Did not expect to see you here." She said. In front of her stood a familiar, purple-cloaked figure, though now the left sleeve billowed in the wind. "Then again, most would believe you dead, Myrddin."
"Things wrapped up quicker than I planned, Hilde." He said. "I'm sorry, but I failed to snag the win for us. Nuada was far more dangerous than I gave him credit for."
"To still survive against him is no easy feat. Give yourself some credit at least."
"Thank you." Myrddin smiled softly.
"Where's Göndul?"
Within a certain medical room, Samson and Johannes were resting in their beds. Both Reginleif and Hlökk were busy drinking tea. Someone knocked at the door, and all four looked up to see a familiar face, her soft smile still there. Both Hlökk and Reginleif flew to her, unable to hold back tears of joy while crashing into their sister.
"With your sisters, where she needs to be."
Brunhilde's lips trembled for a moment as she felt tears form. She fought them back and regained her stoic bearing. "I guess I should be thanking you instead, Myrddin."
"Nonsense. It's just my nature as a Cambion. As long as the soul I tethered my life to remains, I will never die…or at least stay dead."
"On that topic, did you get what you needed?"
Myrddin smiled. "That and more. Once I'm done here, I need to go and speak with a few contemporaries. Where I'm going…is perilous."
"It's that bad?"
Myrddin looked to his left and right. "The deepest pits of Tartarus, within the Circles."
Chills went down her spine. Within Tartarus, Valhalla's prison, there was a special subdivision within its bowels. Its name? The Circles, born from looking like a series of concentric circles when looked at from above. "Shit…he's down there with the Deviants?" Brunhilde felt herself go pale.
"The crime of killing a Chief God during Valhalla's enforced peace cannot go unpunished… regardless of the circumstances." The two mulled over the revelation for a moment. Their chance to get their thirteenth Fighter, the major player in case Ragnarök goes that long, continues to stay out of their grasp. "That being said, it's not impossible to get him out."
"It's the Circles. Even getting inside Tartarus without approval is damn near impossible, and the guards are freakin' strong. How will you pull that off?"
Myrddin smiled. "Hilde, I've spent a long time searching for any information that could lead me to Arthur. I scoured every corner of Helheim, Midgard, and Valhalla. In that time, I made some friends who care deeply about Humanity's survival. All I need to do is contact them, and they'll come."
The twinkle in Myrddin's eye gave Brunhilde a sliver of hope, but at the moment, that was all she needed. "Don't let me keep you, then! Good luck, Myrddin."
"Same to you, and please tell Göndul-" Brunhilde raised her hand to stop him.
"No. Tell her yourself when you return." Myrddin sighed and nodded. He turned away from her and walked down the corridor towards the Barrack's exit, vanishing into the shadows as he went.
Gabriel stood alone in the hallway leading out to the arena. Armaiti left him earlier per his request. He left his trench coat behind, replacing it with a leather harness over his chest, both sides armed with a single semi-automatic pistol. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He knew the situation he was in. He knew what was expected of him from the other Chief Gods. Nuada fought hard, and the same level of effort was expected from him. He also knew what Set had on him, and if he did not fight to the fullest, the consequences would be dire. He heard footsteps behind him, accompanied by the occasional clanking of metal striking the floor. He looked back, and his anxiety skyrocketed. A still-alive Myrddin. "So it wasn't a sick joke. You're still alive?" Gabriel asked, removing his glasses. He pulled a small cloth from his back pocket and began wiping his glasses with it.
"Believe me, pardon the joke, it is me," Myrddin said. "It does make one wonder how much anyone knows about Cambions."
"Very little, but not the point. Do you have it?"
"I do, and I already contacted the others. They're ready to go. The question is, are you coming?"
"What?"
"Come off it, Gabriel. We both know you're just as invested in this as I am. You helped me get to places normally out of my reach. You put me in the path of important people. You need to come with me. I cannot do the next step without you."
"Why do you need my help?"
"I need the access granted to you as a Chief God. We're going to Tartarus and the Circles."
Stunned, Gabriel stood in silence. The information hit him like a truck. "Arthur's there?" Gabriel whispered.
"He is. Now are you coming?"
"...If I go, do you know who Set will replace me with? I do...and it's the worst-case scenario."
"Let Vlad handle him. He was recommended to Brunhilde specifically because he was strong enough to kill you or your replacement. I dare say the irony will be worth the watch. Now I ask again, are you coming with us?"
Back at the East Entrance hallway, Nuada continued his walk to the medical ward. The doors closed behind him just a few seconds prior, but he refused to relent to his pain and crumble. Argetlam began to crackle and crackle. He looked at his shoulder; the knobs holding his arm in had melted away. He could hear the interior pieces starting to break. At least it held up outside. He thought to himself. Argetlam tore away and landed with a thud, the precious limb breaking into several pieces. The only things remaining in one piece were Fragarach's scabbard and the blade. He looked down at it and sighed. Damn, that asshole. Beat the stuffing out of me and still had the nerve to take what he wanted. At least he helped me save face. What Zeus and Odin would have done if they knew what I did… The room began spinning around him. Nuada tried to stay standing, but nothing responded to him. His body crumbled…but the ground never came. He was floating. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. The room took on a golden hue, and in front of him was a tall, chiseled red head in a black sleeveless shirt, grey pants, and brown boots. Nuada could tell who it was despite the room still spinning by that obnoxious smile. "Still, the worrywart aren't you, boy?" Nuada muttered. He could feel the pain vanishing from his body. The golden sphere wrapped around him cooled his burns and eased his muscles.
Lugh
(Celtic Pantheon)
"Look who's talking, Old Man?" Lugh said. "After all that, you think I'd let you walk to the infirmary on your own?"
"Ha…" Nuada muttered. His eyes closed, and his body went limp. "…that's my boy…"
Lugh laughed a little, but his expression stiffened immediately. Nuada's critical condition required him to act quickly, and the healing spell did only so much. Lugh waved his hand and ran; the orb followed behind him through the empty hall. "Huh, that's weird." He spoke. "Where's Gabriel?"
"Everyone! Please make your way back to your seats! The next battle of Storytelling is about to begin!" Heimdall roared from inside the dome through his modified Gjallarhorn. Throughout the years, many great epics and stories came into being under the chisel, pen, quill, or keyboard. Regardless of the era, the region, the culture, one of the few great truths of stories always rises from the creative minds of Man and God: that every good story needs…a good villain! From tyrants and evil sorcerers to vile monsters and heartless killers! All are forces of destruction and depravity that must be overcome! Now, here in Round 6, we shall see the true vileness of Humanity face the insidious treachery from Valhalla's fallen in an arena perfect for such a battle!" Within the dome, what was a pitch-white void in Round 5 was now a large, dimly lit, stone room. Nearly a dozen stone columns lined the room on each side, each aligned to the one on the opposite side and bore lit torches. Behind the columns were the East and West Entrances, now replaced with large wooden double doors lit up by the torches' dim glow. In the center of the vast room was a long, wide marble pathway that started from a central double-door entrance. On the other end was a large set of steps reminiscent of a pyramid connected to the path by a metal grate over a carved-out canal. On each side of the pyramid, pouring down from dragon-shaped vents was bright-orange and yellow magma. It pooled and flowed into the canal surrounding the steps and encircled the pyramid before draining away to start the process again. At the step's flat top sat a large, stone throne with a single red cushion for support. Its back was tall and designed with countless skeletons etched into it. All of them looked up to the ceiling with their hands stretched out and up as if clamoring away from what may sit below them. "We now gaze upon the very throne room of this epic's great villain. Who shall sit upon the throne at the end of this battle of evil versus evil? Let's find out!" Heimdall waved his free hand to the West Entrance.
"Introducing the Fighter for Humanity in Round Six!
Born the second son of Wallachia's Voivode Vlad II, that very same man gave him up as a prisoner of war!
Sacrificed by his fearful father, he refused to allow himself to suffer the same weakness!
In his imprisonment, he studied under his enemies! War! Combat! Horseback! He took everything his captors could teach him and threw it back at them!
Following his Father and eldest Brother's deaths, he returned to Wallachia and reclaimed his birthright by slaughter and torture!
When his enemies and allies alike gazed upon his depravity, they shuddered and quaked at his sheer disregard for lives in his path!
All feared him, yet he did not care! All despised him, yet it never mattered!
Even after his death, he continued to commit atrocities in Heaven and was imprisoned within Tartarus for his crimes!
He is fear in mortal flesh, and is here to continue his campaign of terror upon the Heavens!
Welcome, with me, the fiercest Voivode in Romania's history! The Son of the Dragon!
The Impaler! The Scourge of Heaven and Earth!
VLAD DRACUL TEPES!"
The West Gates slowly open, releasing a chilling air into the dome and out into the arena. Heimdall immediately froze in his seat, instinct kicking in. No one on the human side of the arena outside the dome could utter a word. The very same force gripping the announcer constricted them all. Many held their breath, others silently prayed in their minds, and none blinked. There were some in the crowd fighting against it, but cold sweat started to fall from their brows. There were those amongst the Gods who could feel the chill in the air. W….what the hell is going on? Heimdall thought. I…I can't move…no…I don't want to…I can't let him see me…if he sees me… The throne's carved skulls began to scream. No words, no cries for help. Just pure horror. I need to get out of here! I'm not getting paid for this! Calm, but powerful footsteps could be heard from the pitch-black hallway. The clanging of metal with each step grew louder and louder the closer the source came to the entrance. Soon, he appeared. Dressed in armor colored like dried blood and draped in a silver cape, Vlad was. He walked out the gate, his stoic gaze aimed at the East Entrance, his beard and moustache now neatly trimmed and cleaned. His cape dragged on the floor behind him, as if clinging to the ground and hoping it would peel away from its owner. He stopped just below Heimdall and waited. He's here! Heimdall screamed in his mind. Something vibrated in his pocket. Snapping out of his panic, he pulled out his tablet. A message from Set appeared on the screen.
Announce the other Fighter. We're waiting.
"Easy for you to say, you're not in here…" Heimdall muttered. He breathed deeply and exhaled. "I need to ask for a raise…"
Heimdall waved his free hand to the West Entrance.
"Introducing the Fighter for The Gods in Round Six!
Following Humanity's exile from Heaven, the Angels took on the mission to guide and protect them!
Among them was this Warrior! At times a healer, and at others a destroyer!
Wielding his mighty horn, he announced the arrival of miracle workers and sages who changed the course of history!
With his bow, he smote corrupted cities and nations, among them Sodom and Gomorrah!
Such was his dedication to Humanity, he turned his back on the Heavens and ripped off his wings in defiance of their treatment of their creations!
Now he comes to fight against the very beings he swore to protect, for the ones he once stood against!
Help me welcome, the Angel of Blazing Justice! Tyranny's Bane! The Warrior of God!
GABRIEL!"
The crowd on the God's side began to boo and hiss as the doors opened. Jeers and curses flew through the air towards the dome. Some called for Gabriel's head alongside his wings, others demanded his repentance. How could one single Angel gain such scorn and derision? Did one deserve so much of it? To Gabriel, it did not matter. It was always the mission, and no matter the cost, he would always see to it. Which is why he did not walk through the gate. Rather, he was not there at all. Heimdall stayed in his position, staring at the entrance. No one came through."…..Uh, Gabriel?" Heimdall said through Gjallarhorn. "It's your turn to come out."
(A Few Minutes Earlier)
Zeus sat in his chair, laughing hysterically. Hermes and Ares sat in silence at the scene, while Set seethed in his chair. His tablet in hand, it showed a single message.
Set, I hereby withdraw from Ragnarök. Sorry for the inconvenience. Had something come up. You understand.
"I understand?" Set asked incredulously. His pupils shrank.
I will butcher him when I find him! The shrill, manic voice in his head screamed.
SILENCE! He roared back. The other voice went quiet. He made his play. Now we make ours. Set inhaled slowly and exhaled.
"Looks like you were given the cold shoulder, Set!" Zeus said. The sheer joy he got out of seeing Set's ego and sense of control deflate could be felt by everyone in the box. "So now that he's out of the game," Zeus leaned in, his pitch-black eyes full of manic joy. "Can I go instead?" Set did not look his way. He turned to Yama.
"Do it," Set said.
"Do what?" Yama asked.
"Gabriel has pulled out as expected. Summon the substitute for Round Six." Set said, empty of emotion.
"Set, I know Zeus gave you free rein with whoever was approved, but to send him would incite a riot. Does Zeus know he was picked?" Zeus turned his attention to Yama, raising an eyebrow.
"No, and it doesn't matter. More importantly, did Gabriel know?"
"…Each Fighter knows who their substitute is."
"Then it is not my fault that Gabriel abandoned his duties. He knew who would replace him." Set glared at Yama. "Summon him." Yama sighed. He pulled out his tablet, typed a message, and sent it. He waited a few seconds, anxiety and frustration slamming into his stomach. Yama could not tell if Set anticipated this. For each of his chosen 13 Fighters, Set lined up a substitute to take their place should something happen. For Round Six, he wanted one and only one being. Both he and Set knew that amongst the Heavens, there were few, if any, that were as hated and reviled. Zeus himself could not stand him, and he was one of the few whom he did not like the idea of fighting. Zeus loves fighting, but the idea of trading blows with him filled Zeus with fury unlike anything else. The tablet buzzed. Yama pulled it out and opened the message.
He's free and on the way.
Yama showed the message to Set. Set's body relaxed, and he leaned back in his seat. "Sorry about that. The chosen substitute is on his way." Set typed up a message and sent it. Down in the dome, Heimdall received it. He shook his head.
"Such a shame…" Zeus looked down at Vlad. His gaze did not move from the West Entrance. "I wanted to fight him."
"Shall I prepare something for you?" Hermes asked.
"No…I will wait until this whole thing ends. Would be a shame to miss out."
Cannot believe this is happening! Heimdall thought. "Ladies and gentlemen! Due to some issues behind the scenes, the Gods will be sending in a new Fighter!"
The gods jeered and booed louder than before. More started calling for Gabriel's life, while calling him 'traitor,' 'coward,' or some variation of the two. Heimdall's tablet buzzed once more.
He's here. Call him out.
"Here we go…" Heimdall inhaled.
"Goodness…didn't expect this…" said a deep, soothing voice within the Western Hall. The source walked down the hall towards the entrance. Metal scraped softly against the stone floor as he walked. "Then again…Gabriel never did like how things were done here…maybe he expected this…" The figure smiled, his bright orange eyes flashing in the dark. "If he did…well then I can't disappoint him now, can I?" He flicked his arms into the air. Two chains scraped upon the ground and flew into the air. He whipped his arms back down, the chains cracking in the air and sending out sparks. "Here I come." He cracked them once more.
"Introducing the Fighter for The Gods in Round Six!
Eons ago, at the end of the Titanomachy Tournament, the heavens were nearly torn in twain from the war that followed! Many Titans and Gods fell, and it is said the war would have waged on for centuries were it not for this Titan!
In return for his life, he gave the Gods the knowledge to swiftly crush the Titans following Zeus' defeat of his mighty father, Kronos!
After gaining his safety, what does he do? Spit in their faces by giving Humanity two powerful history-changing forces;
Fire and the knowledge to wield it!
For his crime, he was to be eternally punished for his misdeeds by having his liver devoured by an eagle…every…single…day!
He was saved from this torture by the mighty Heracles, but sought vengeance against the Heavens! In his bid to claim the throne, he was defeated by Zeus and imprisoned in the Circles!
Now, he is here to fight against the ones he taught, using the very things he gave them!
Fire! Knowledge!
Scream for the Burning Titan!
The Conflagration of Wisdom!
PROMETHEUS!"
Two small flashes of light flickered within the dark hallway. Two more followed. Another pair, faster than the two before. Vlad's gaze hardened, and his brow furled. More and more sparks filled the dark hall. As the source got closer, the sparks illuminated his person. Tall, chiseled, and hair coiffed up and back. His frantic and excited frame got closer and closer. Vlad could see the glow of his orange eyes, joyful and wicked. The frenzy stopped. Vlad stayed still. Heimdall and the audience all focused their attention on the West Entrance. The crowd booed and jeered him just as loudly as they did Gabriel.
"What the hell is he doing?" Geirölul asked, whispering.
"Making a show of it. Like they always do…" Vlad answered, his voice tinged with irritation.
"Is he looking down on us!?" She whispered furiously.
"To his detriment. Let him. He'll see what happens." Two long chains shot out of the hall. Like coiling serpents, they wrapped around the two nearest columns to the door. They went taut. Suddenly, a figure shot out of the hall, pulling himself by the chains. He sailed through the air gracefully, his red-trimmed, white tunic billowing in the air over a pair of red slacks. His bright red hair and stubble complemented his eyes and square jaw. The chains went loose as he soared, and he yanked them into the air. He twisted his forearms into the chains, wrapping them around until his arms were barely visible under the metal. He landed on his feet, right in front of Vlad. He stood nearly a head taller than his human opponent.
Prometheus
(Greek Pantheon)
He cocked his head to the side and locked eyes with Vlad.
"So you're…my opponent. Must say I'm not that enthused…" Prometheus said.
A powerful force surged from behind him. He turned quickly to look and came face to face with Zeus, fully muscled. "I am enthused enough for both of us…Prometheus. I promised you if I saw your mug again," Zeus raised his right fist to his face and kissed it while winking. "I'd break it into pieces."
What was not known to those in the dome was that once Prometheus was announced, Zeus dashed out of the box and headed straight for the West Gate. As he sprinted there, manic joy and fury coalesced in his soul. His body responded to it, growing larger and larger until he was at full size. Once he reached the entrance hall, it only took him four steps to cover the entire hall and land in the arena.
Right behind Prometheus. "Really?" Prometheus asked, smiling. "You want to fight now?"
"Absolutely!" A powerful chill overwhelmed them. Massive hordes of skeletons, both man and beast, enveloped them and clamored at their bodies. Their screams flooded Prometheus and Zeus' ears, and chills ran down both their spines. Vlad walked over to the two and stepped between them. He stared up at Zeus, his expression unchanged. "Is this your doing, human?" Zeus asked, raising an eyebrow. Vlad said nothing, matching his gaze. "Are you trying to get in my way?" Vlad said nothing. He raised his hand. Zeus clenched his fist. He had no problem screwing up the round for a chance to pummel Prometheus again. Vlad did not flinch at the Godfather of the Cosmos' potential attack. Rather, he pointed at the gate behind him.
"Fight him later if he wins. This is my match. Get out." Vlad said. The chill intensified. Zeus saw a massive skull appear before him. Two large skeletal hands wrapped around him as the skull bent down, opening its jaws. Its teeth encircled him, but they never pierced his flesh.
Zeus flinched. Then he shook. Then…he laughed. He laughed more. More and more. His laughter became so loud it filled the dome. Prometheus shifted his gaze from Vlad to Zeus and back again, uncertain of what was unfolding before him. "You know…I think I'll let you have this one. As much as I want this…I'm curious as to what you'll do." Zeus deflated back to his old, decrepit form. "Do me a favor, will you?" Zeus asked as he patted Vlad on the shoulder. Vlad stared at him; his expression softened. The chill vanished along with the skeletons.
"Name it."
"Vlad!?" Geirölul shouted. She looked at him and saw something that unnerved her. He was smiling. Softly.
"Tear him apart. As brutally as you possibly can. If you do, we'll fight after."
Vlad nodded. "Of course."
"Good, now I need to go before those party-poopers upstairs cause a ruckus. See you soon. And Prometheus?" Prometheus looked at him. "Goodbye."
Zeus turned around and walked away. Set ran out of the gate, trying to get to Zeus as quickly as he could. Vlad ignored Set and Zeus' words, something about ruining the plan or something, and turned around. He walked past Prometheus and returned to his position. "You're insane, Vlad," Geirölul said.
"One arrogant God at a time. That one respected my wishes. This one, however…" His gaze was set on Prometheus. Prometheus responded in kind with a sly smile and calm gaze. "It is looking down on us." Another, smaller murderous aura erupted from behind Vlad.
"What!?" Geirölul hissed.
"Shall we?"
"Oh…. Definitely. Fuck this guy." Veins popped up on the forehead.
Prometheus looked up at Heimdall, his smile never fading. "Hey! Things look like they're under control here! Should we get started?"
"Oh, right… ahem." Heimdall jumped up into his seat. "Ladies and Gentlemen! After another delay, it's time for the rules of Round Six. Storytelling: Villains!
1) The arena you're standing in will be the only location you will fight in. No changes whatsoever!
2) Each of you is empowered by the emotions you instill in the arena. For Villains, it's how much negative emotion and how much is felt this way towards you! The greater the feelings, the stronger you become!
3) The last one alive is the Winner!"
"Well, this seems just unfair. What have I done to deserve such scorn?" Prometheus asked. "All I ever did was help humanity."
"Irrelevant," Vlad answered. "I understand the rules. Do you?"
"I do, but it's just that you have such an advantage over me, with everything you've done."
Vlad said nothing.
"Alrighty then, everyone! Let's get this started!"
"Sis, I hope you're okay," Göll said as she watched on. "Things are getting bad out here."
"It's always darkest before dawn, Göll." A familiar voice said behind her. She turned to look; Brunhilde was walking towards her, still carrying her stoic expression.
"Sis!" Göll ran to her and jumped into her arms. "It's getting crazy down there! First, Gabriel quit, then Prometheus showed up, then Zeus arrived and left, and the fight's just now starting!"
"It's been a pretty crazy series of events, but two things haven't changed."
"What?"
"Vlad and Geirölul are still down there, and Prometheus is still the same dirtbag he was before."
"Wait, dirtbag? But he helped Humanity all those years ago. Why's he a dirtbag?" Brunhilde gently lowered Göll back to the ground.
"Because he did something no one could forgive. What he was trying to do. And that was…" Brunhilde's face scrunched in anger. "Try and turn the humans into his army." Göll's eyes widened.
"Fighters ready!?" Heimdall shouted.
Prometheus stepped back and unrolled his chains. Vlad stayed still.
"FIGHT!"
Prometheus whipped out the left-hand chain, flinging it towards Vlad. Vlad stepped to his left and leaned. Prometheus reached his right hand under the chain mid-flight, cupped it, and pulled it to the right. The chain snapped to the right and sailed towards Vlad's head. Vlad ducked under it; his expression unchanging. Prometheus brought it back to the left. Vlad ducked under it once more. Prometheus continued his assault.
"It's a wild assault, everyone! Prometheus is trying to strike at Vlad from a distance, but Vlad's completely unfazed! He almost looks bored!" Heimdall roared.
"I don't understand why you're doing this, Human," Prometheus said. "I know your history. Nothing humanity's done to you or for you should be enough to convince you to fight for them. I doubt you care for them at all, to be honest." Vlad continued dodging the chain. The gap between the two started to shrink. "Unlike you, I am here to fight for Humanity. The Gods grew lazy and decadent, just like the Titans before them. They cannot be allowed to condemn Humanity. That's why!" Prometheus whipped out the other chain towards Vlad. "I will fight! I will not allow this to happen!" Prometheus raised his right arm in the air, sending the chain skywards. The tip of the chain began to glow a bright orange.
"Here it comes, folks! The move that laid waste to the armies of the Gods and Titans!" Heimdall shouted.
"Flogerí Stagóna!" Prometheus pulled the chain down, the tip flying straight down to Vlad. He stepped to the right, and the tip hit the ground. A quick flash erupted from the contact. Vlad's eyes widened as the ground began to glow and heat up. Prometheus smiled. The ground exploded. The blast and shrapnel enveloped Vlad, and a large cloud of dust erupted from the spot. "That was quick. Guess our resolve was just that different." Prometheus said as he scanned the dust cloud.
"Did that move already to Vlad in!?" Heimdall said, sounding far more hopeful than necessary.
"Sis, he's not done, is he?" Göll said, watching. She felt oddly calm despite the exchange.
"Not at all. He's the greatest evil of Humanity. There's no way someone like Prometheus right now could beat him." The dust cloud began to settle, but the darkness made it difficult to discern if anything remained of Vlad. Prometheus kept his distance, swinging his right chain behind him. His eyes widened. Something flew out of the cloud at him. He tilted his head to the right, barely avoiding it. Two more flew out. Prometheus whipped his chain at them, knocking them out of the air. Three more. Prometheus knocked them away. He whipped his left chain into the cloud towards the source of the attacks. The chain sailed through the cloud, hitting nothing but pulling the dust with it.
Vlad, completely unharmed, was low to the ground, covering his left side with his heavy silver cape. In his right hand, held between his fingers, were three short blades."You damn fool. That's not enough!" Prometheus shouted. He whipped the left chain towards Vlad, the tip igniting like the other. Vlad stayed in place, the chain getting closer. Before it touched him, he ducked down. It flew over his head; Vlad took one blade in his left hand and stabbed upwards. The blade caught one of the links in the chain. He turned his hand over and pulled it back. Prometheus lurched forward, but got his feet under him. Just in time for two more blades to fly towards his face. He ducked down just in time for both blades to graze his left cheek and the left side of his neck. Vlad grabbed the chain with his now free right hand. His back muscles flexed, and he pulled. Prometheus lost his balance from the earlier attack and flew towards Vlad. Vlad pulled his blade out of the chain, twisted it in his hand, and lunged at Prometheus.