Fantasy That Time the Demon Lord Killed our Party Leader: Ic

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Watching from the skies, Chrome circulated his mana within him to refill it quicker as Nergal tried to recover from him and his allies assault, which worked momentarily but it seems like everyone was locked in now as Eleanor unleashed a strange new ability manifesting as a fierce pink flame radiating off of her sword. Paimon quickly taking charge after her, and starting a coordinated assault to push Nergal back into The Well. He thought of it as a solid idea but way too safe as Nergal will most likely not be confined for long, and he is a omen of destruction wherever he goes. Chrome felt the need to crush Nergal not out of any hatred but merely because Nergal was strong. Nergal was so strong that Chrome felt the need to crush him and prove his strength as Nergal was too much of a threat to the party for him to be left alive. He takes a deep breath as he watches the backline support the injured mages, before deciding to zip over to some trapped survivors under the rubble and destruction. He saves a few injured and heavily traumatized students at the academy as well, using his blood magic to quickly stop their wounds from bleeding and bandage them with the little medical items he keeps on him. He's hulking stature and somewhat cold demeanor making most of the people saved flinch when first seeing him but seem to realize his intentions after saving them. Chrome actually didn't speak while saving anyone as anybody who can see what's going on knows where NOT to be right now, the only thing he responded to was when some academy students asked his name which he casually replied with "...Just a hero." After making sure all the survivors that he could detect nearby was saved he had happened to turn around to the sight of Azaera transforming into her draconic form and charging into the fray having her god Inanna summon and swing her legendary axe at the plague god. He smirked as he notice the blade's trajectory heading for the cage and he thought "Is she trying to free Phoenix? Hah lucky if she doesn't cut her in two." Chrome jokes to himself forgetting the intense battle that's supposed to be taking place before taking a deep breath releasing a strong wave of mana as his body overflows with it and saying "Alright....that was a good break, lets get back to it." His mana breathing refilling most of his mana as he side tracked himself with saving the civilians, he then immediately takes flight in a blur as his wings suddenly spawn from his back and launch him upwards.

Chrome focuses in on all his allies and thinks of a way to add to his allies attacks. The only solution he could come to was to bind Nergal in some way to guarantee his allies attacks hit. He thinks of a good way and a memory pops into his mind. Parzival's memory popped into his mind reminding him of a spell one of the vampire heroes used to bind the Crimson King. He flies high above Nergal and his allies as he hold his hand out and his palm facing down before muttering "Form...what'd he say? Ah...Blood Iron Stakes. " Blood leaks from his palm out into the air around him and forming into a overwhelming volley of blood stakes. Though as more form the ones fully formed start to turn into solid iron eventually making a volley of 30 iron stakes which he then points at Nergal and the stakes all take aim simultaneously. A simple flick of his wrist was all it took before they stakes disappear from where they once stood and close in on Nergal at the speed of a bullet. Immediately wrapping around the god's figure like a snake and piercing into his joints, feet, and neck trying to restrict the plague's god movement as much and long as possible. Using his control over the stakes to continue digging into Nergal's flesh the more he tries to resist, planning to make the stakes burst into flames as soon as his allies attacks land.


Mentions: Zariel Nessi

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

“Block out everything. The only thing that matters is defeating Nergal.” Eleanor thought. Ever since she had manifested the pink flames that coated her blade, she felt like she was completely in the zone. Despite the current situation she was in, fighting against a god, she felt as if everything was under control.
When Enthy blinded Nergal, Eleanor rushed forward, and slammed her fist into Nergal’s head. The attack caused the plague god to stagger backwards.
By the time Nergal recovered, Rohen and Aaxir’s combo attack slammed into him, instantly sending him under the water. Before he could process the fact that he was now underwater, he was dragged back to the surface by none other than Eleanor, who had constructed a lasso via light mimicry. She slammed Nergal into the temple that surrounded the well.

Azaera came in quickly with Inanna, and with the realm destroying axe, struck the birdcage that trapped the goddess of rebirth, and after a few, almost painstakingly long moments, the cage crumbled, and phoenix immediately grew to a regular size, and fell limp into the water.
“No!” Nergal cried, scrambling towards Phoenix to try and trap her once more.
Paimon would intercept the plague god, and once more pulled him into a furious combo, only now he did not heal after every punch. Aided by the strong winds produced by Fel, each strike pushed Nergal closer and closer to the swirling vortex that was the well of wishes.
“I don’t know how you got out, but I’ll be sure to make sure you never return!” Paimon roared. With a final, powerful punch, Paimon launched Nergal into the well, and the sounds of the plague god’s screams slowly faded out of existence.

Eleanor, with the fight finally over, fell to her knees, all of the exhaustion and pain from the prior fight crashing into her like a mighty wave. “We…survived…” she said in between breaths. Slowly but surely, she stood up, and faced her comrades, a sense of pride washing over her. They did it, they had won the fight, and now they could actually do what they came here for, and then go back to the Academy.

Or at least, that’s what Eleanor had hoped.

Eleanor suddenly, and very violently started getting dragged towards the Well of wishes. She whipped around, and to her horror found the head of Nergal’s mace biting down on her boot, pulling her towards the well of wishes.
“Paimon!” she cried out, trying desperately to resist the pull of Nergal’s mace.
“I’m coming!” Paimon cried out, successfully grabbing Eleanor’s hand, while digging his fingers into one of the temple pillars. “Azaera, come help!” Paimon yelled, as he could feel his champion slipping from his grip with each passing moment.

Eleanor tried to grab onto Paimon with both of her hands, but no matter how hard she gripped, the constant splashing of water made it impossible for her to properly hold on. “Paimon, please don’t let me go!” she begged. She could feel his grip tighten, but it didn’t stop anything, and eventually, Paimon’s grip was broken, and Eleanor screamed as she was dragged into the well of wishes.

Being in the well was a surreal experience. The path downward twisted and turned, immediately disorienting Eleanor. She couldn’t tell which way was up, and which way was down, all she knew was that wherever she was going, she was moving fast, faster than what would possibly be safe. While the center of the vortex was free of water, Eleanor constantly found herself crashing into the almost blindingly bright water, barely getting chances to breath some much needed air.

After what felt like an eternity, Eleanor suddenly shot out of the water, and found herself free falling.
“Shit!” she cried out, trying to think of a solution that didn’t include turning into a stain on the floor. But she was falling too fast, there wouldn’t be anything that she could do with the time that she had. With nothing that could be done, Eleanor closed her eyes, and braced for impact, only to suddenly feel herself slowing down. She quickly opened her eyes, to find that her descent had been slowed by some unseen force. Landing on her feet, Eleanor immediately reached to her side for her blade, but could only sigh when she realized that the weapon wasn’t on her.

“Oh sweet Eleanor, looks like you’ve misplaced your sword, how clumsy.” Nergal cackled from a distance.
Eleanor looked up, and found the plague god standing in one of the exits to the dome that they were currently in, a smile on his face. Besides him, hooded figures surrounded the other available exits, to which Eleanor had counted 7.
“Was this yer plan all along? Drag me down here, try and separate me from the others?” Eleanor asked, her fists clenched and ready to defend herself if need be.
“Yes of course! All of your friends played their role perfectly!” Nergal laughed, spinning in pure ecstasy. “You shouldn’t be so glum, Eleanor! After all this is a family reunion, you haven’t seen these guys in so long!” Nergal laughed. With a snap of his fingers, the hooded figures guarding the exits all took their hoods off.

The moment Eleanor saw the faces of the hooded figures, her stomach dropped to the ground, and her heart began to beat out of its chest. It was her friends…no, her family from Breuci, their corpses standing before her in their mangled, undead glory. “Leo…Lottie…Toby…all of you…how did you even-”
“Get them? Oh it was so easy for Eleanor, because I’ve been watching you, for a long, long time. I knew where you had buried their bodies, and I just knew how much you’d love to see them back!” Nergal cackle with glee.
Eleanor furrowed her brows in anger, and began to step towards Nergal with the intent of beating him down with her bare fists.
“Ah! If you want to get to me, You’ll have to get through them!” Nergal laughed.
Eleanor’s friends immediately began to rush forward to defend Nergal, causing her to hesitate. “No…they’re just corpses. They’ve long since passed, and right now, I’ve got to get to Nergal!” Eleanor told herself, before rushing in, and caving one of the corpses chest in with a single punch.

Eleanor had expected to be met with decayed flesh, dirt, maybe a few maggots and what not. What she did not expect was the feeling of fresh blood covering her golden fist. She looked up at the man she had attacked, and saw that his face was contorted with pain, staggering backwards as he clutched his wound.
“They're…alive?” Eleanor uttered in disbelief. Before she could process this realization, Lottie would grab Eleanor, and shove her back, followed by everyone else surrounding her , and holding her in place. “You guys! It’s me, Eleanor! Stop it!” She cried out, trying to get through to her family.
This message did nothing to stop her friends, as Lottie wrapped her hands around Eleanor’s neck, and began to squeeze.
“I..I can’t die here…I don’t want to die here!” Eleanor screamed to herself. She threw her head back, and delivered a mighty headbutt to Lottie and forced her back. She then threw the rest of her friends off of her, and immediately began her own counterattack. One by one, Eleanor killed her friends with her bare hands, and when the dust settled, she was once more, the last one standing.

Only this time, it was Eleanor who was the monster.

Surrounded by the corpses of her friends, and covered in their blood, panic began to set in as Eleanor processed the severity of what she had just done. Her eyesight went blurry, and her legs wobbled as she fell to her knees, panting as if she had just been running for days.
“They were all still alive…I killed them, they know I killed them!” Eleanor cried, staring at the blood on her hands.

Eleanor had been through a lot during her time spent fighting in this war. She’s killed thousands of Olrodian soldiers, and has lost plenty of friends along the way. However nothing she had ever experienced could compare to the pain she felt right now, the searing pain of guilt that made her heart feel like it was about to explode.
“You’ve been through a lot, child.” A mysterious voice said. It was the same voice she had heard back in Hofn, the same voice that spoke to her while she was unconscious. “You’re in a lot of pain so much pain that it’s almost crushing. You’ve had to kill the first people to have ever called you family.” The voice comforted. “It doesn't stop there does it, your friends don’t quite like you much either, do they? They see you as weak, foolish, just a human who’s out of her league, right?” The voice asked.
Eleanor didn’t respond, but her silence was more than enough for an answer to the mysterious force speaking to her.
“I can take all that pain away, relieve you of the duty that is simply too much for a mortal to bear…All you have to say is that you no longer wish to exist.” the voice explained.

Eleanor sat on the floor, contemplating what she had just been told. “No matter what I do…I’ll just be a human, worse than a human, a monster who can’t even protect the few things she swears too…” Eleanor murmured. She remembers the promise that she had made to Paimon, the promise to live on for her friends, the same friends she had just murdered.

“I no longer wish to live.”

 

[Nessi]

???

A dark aura surrounded Eleanor, one that exuded loathing, hatred, and most importantly, power. Eleanor’s entire body began to shift into something much more masculine, her chest shrank, shoulders grew more broad, and shot up in height by a considerable amount. Her round ears sharpened to that of an elf, and parts of her hair went from its regular dark brown, to white.

When the transformation ended, Eleanor(?) opened her now red eyes, and took in the surroundings.
“My king, I welcome your return.” Nergal said, kneeling to the being that stood before him.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to be the reason I was partly freed.” The being said. The voice that came sounded like 2 people were speaking at once, with the second voice being much deeper and masculine.
“Of course, I longed for your return after my…failure to bring you back all those years ago, King Paimon.” Nergal admitted.
“The name…can’t have 2 Paimon’s running around…call me Hajun.” Hajun stated, stretching his limbs out. “Ah, here comes the calvary.” he chuckled, as Paimon, alongside the other heroes descended from the vortex.

“This is tricky. It’s gonna take some time for me to fully transform this body…and the brat has the rest of my power. We’ll have to work together for the time being, you keep Paimon busy, he’s at full power and will be problematic. I’ll have a little tango with the little shits!” Hajun explained to Nergal, who nodded in agreement.
“Hey, you bunch of useless mortals! I’ve stolen your friend's body, and if you want your friend, you'll have to fight me for it!” Hajun shouted, before taking on a fighting stance next to Nergal.

 

[CasualTea]

Demon's Bane

Rohen Xiong, "The Mad Orca"

Interactions: Nergal + Hajun Nessi

Mentions: All Heroes, Nel Dawnsx , Chrome DSLIX

As the attacks piled on, it became clear that the battle had been one sided from the start. Despite Nergal's rapid healing from the trapped phoenix, nothing can stop him from being affected by the heroes' continuous onslaught. Sure he can't die, but the bastard can still feel pain. Out numbered, he was the town punching bag taking every instance of impact and force. He can heal and not die but that doesn't he can't be passed around and beaten senseless by every able bodied patron in the bar. It was just downright disgusting and brutal. But damn, watching him squeal and desperately trying to get that bird back was a sight of pleasure. She could watch this sight all day, the feeling of making a God their bitch was quite a new and refreshing feeling since the fight at Tiryan's doorstep. She couldn't even care that somehow Aaxir's attack was conjoined with hers. She hated his guts, but it did feel like she carried that instance. It made her feel good. And now, with Paimon finally sending the fucker off and out of their way, his screams fading out was just the cherry on top. The chef's kiss. She wasn't even tired or drained. Finally, having won a battle without suffering too badly felt like a redemption. Time to go to the well, check how Eleanor's doing and...

"...Eleanor, what's that on your-"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was already being pulled by that thing. "Shit! Get her!" She began sprinting towards the well, the speed of the pull being way faster than she expected. Even with Paimon taking a hold of her, it only bought time if no one else got to her. It was a mad dash against time and just as she got there, Eleanor's and Paimon's grip had broken. She dove towards her to try and catch her hand. As she hooked her left arm around the temple pillar nearby, she swiped her hand towards Eleanor's but only grazed it and she watched helplessly as Eleanor fell deeper into the well and eventually out of sight in mere seconds. "Eleanor!!" She cried out. Nothing. If only she was faster, if only she had reacted sooner! If only... if only...!

"Urgh..! Come on!!" She exclaimed as she unbuttoned and took off her shoal along with her beanie and threw it over and out of the well, revealing her defined body frame coated by her combat jacket. She raised herself up only to put her feet against the pillar, took a deep breath and with a majestic backflip, shot herself down the well after Eleanor. There was no time for caution, no time for hesitation. Nergal was down there and she wasn't going to let Nel's title decree of Champion be wasted on her after having somehow lifted Eleanor's spirits up that one time! Was Rohen full of ego? Sure. Was it impulsive? Probably. Did she think any of this through? Not so much. But none of it mattered to her. She was not going to let Eleanor go this time to redeem herself for what happened prior. As she dove deeper into the eye of the vortex, she began to notice the sudden changes in direction and its strength. Assuming Eleanor was just getting thrashed around in a panic, she would only end up at the finish line of this twisted path. The blinding lights making Rohen's eyes squint in an effort to counter its visuals but still disorienting nonetheless. What she could only do is just ride the current, flow with it and take her where she had to go. There was no use fighting it. Just stay calm and focus.

After a very long long time, finally shot out of the water where she took a refreshing and full breath of air... Only to realize she was in the air once more. Another damn free fall and no Knight with Wings: Chrome was gonna pluck her from the sky. At least, not here yet. And at least this time, she wasn't blown out of the sky by Golroth. She had a plan. Albeit that plan... Might not even work, but worth a shot. Perhaps she can slow her velocity if she summoned the Narwhal again and rode it. It would at least provide some cushion of water. "Here goes nothing..!" She exclaimed. She closed her eyes in order to concentrate her mana and begin her incantation. "From the moment of origin, all will return to... huh?" She opened her eyes as she felt like she was being pulled and pushed at the same time, her velocity slowing down as she caught sight of Eleanor who was sitting down. Was she waiting here the whole time? Did she really take that long? "Eleanor? You good?" ...No response. "C'mon, I've been falling for thirty minutes and still am. What are..."

It was only then did she take a look at the elephant in the room. Bodies, blood and... Nergal. Something was very wrong. "I no longer wish to live." Then, an aura formed around her as she went some sort of transformation. She watched as Eleanor's figure warped and shifted soon taking on the frame of a man who looked like... Paimon? “My king, I welcome your return.” Nergal said, kneeling to the being that stood before him. “I didn’t expect you of all people to be the reason I was partly freed.” The being said. Rohen watched in confusion as she was still descending, questions raising itself in her head. “Of course, I longed for your return after my…failure to bring you back all those years ago, King Paimon.” “The name…can’t have 2 Paimon’s running around…call me Hajun.” Hajun stated, stretching his limbs out. It was then where Rohen could finally touch down and gain her footing. “Ah, here comes the calvary.”

“This is tricky. It’s gonna take some time for me to fully transform this body…and the brat has the rest of my power. We’ll have to work together for the time being, you keep Paimon busy, he’s at full power and will be problematic. I’ll have a little tango with the little shits!” Hajun explained to Nergal, who nodded in agreement. Rohen looked at Paimon and began noticing some similarities. But just what the hell is going on here? Before she could draw up any conclusions, her distractedness was broken by this... Hajun's call. “Hey, you bunch of useless mortals! I’ve stolen your friend's body, and if you want your friend, you'll have to fight me for it!” Hajun shouted, before taking on a fighting stance next to Nergal.

Possession. That was the only word that came up in her head. Why can't they just have one fucking victory and it feels like one. Followed by a period of respite and rest. No, there just had to be more enemies and the enemy is one they just defeated and another who had Eleanor's body. Contradicting... But once more, resolute. Only one solution came to her and she didn't like it. Not. One. Bit. "...Release restraint: burst. Level one." She growled as dragonic scales began to coat her skin and harden. Rohen was entering her partial synchronization, armoring herself while also summoning several water swords that formed and floated around her, pointed at Nergal and Hajun. After her transformation was complete, she flicked her left arm and once more released large axe blades on either side of her arm using the Water's Edge. "I'm sorry, El. I'm gonna have to beat the shit out of you." She said as she began walking towards their opposition, unsheathing her dao and a flurry of water projectile swords flew through the air, launching themselves towards Nergal and Hajun.

 

[Nano]

act29side

Enthyskana Rhoda

A modest patch of flowers waved gently in the wind, carrying its saccharine caress from the delicate white petals reminiscent of a certain dragon’s feathers. Dirt-stained hands clasped together in prayer, hoping that the little spot of life would one day spread and reproduce, creating a marvel of beauty nourished by the ashes of a man who’d fallen down the wrong path. All was at peace, yet the young woman’s mismatched eyes remained dull and devoid of the life she so fervently prayed for.

“Are you watching, Adaline?”

she murmured as she dropped her hands and gazed numbly upon the sparsely decorated ground,

“Everyone has finally been laid to rest.”

Each time she closed her eyes, the rusted sword that stole away her brother’s final breath danced vividly behind her eyelids. With her own two hands, she finished what she should have done decades ago, burying the last of her kin and a part of herself in the process. As she stood before the grave that held her brother’s ashes, her longing for the earth’s cold embrace grew stronger.

“And once I’m gone, this cycle of hatred between our families will reach its end.”

That day was burned within her memories, and she could still recall the firm yet gentle manner in which the God of Justice pulled her away from the figurative precipice she’d been teetering upon. The hand that reached out to her had been spotless and ethereal, a juxtaposition to her own which was muddied by the blood and dirt of mortal ordeals. Selfishly, she clung to that lifeline, thirsting for some manner of validation that she was still needed. Because someone had told her that her worth was still greater than her sins, she continued to walk forward in hopes that she'd one day come to know why fate had spared her and not them.

The sight of Eleanor's form twisted by Hajun's power, however, reminded her that she'd unknowingly set herself down a path accompanied by a lifetime's worth of misery. Rohen and the heroes quickly rushed forth to cleanse the blonde’s body of the entity possessing her, yet the dragon remained still with the head of her axe planted firmly within the ground.

“Four years ago, you told me to live—that even someone like me still had a purpose to fulfill,”

Enthy spoke silently in her mind to the god by her side,

“but it feels as if I’ve only succeeded in falling down over and over without being able to reach the beginning of this journey. We’ve tasted defeat, and now how many times must I turn my blade against the people I’ve broken bread and shared laughter with?”

Veritas remained unmoving from his spot before the dragon, his cold expression as unwavering as the day she’d first set her gaze upon his face.

“They were nothing more than empty shells reanimated through the emperor’s dark magic,"

he said as if stating fact, and Enthy had received the courage to lay them to rest back when he’d first uttered those words. Now, his instruction only increased the weight of the yoke upon her shoulders.

“You forget that I am but a mere mortal, My Lord,”

she replied,

“A divine being such as yourself may possess an immovable heart of stone, but I am weak. My hands tremble each time I must fight, but I’ve nonetheless faithfully followed your doctrines in hopes that your words will one day deliver me to my final destination. You saved me, and in turn I’ve listened to the voice telling me to slay those whose sins merely amount to following the wrong king, while I must stay my hand in the face of a so-called hero who steals the breaths of innocents still fighting to live on in spite of their pain. Is the justice that I must follow this fickle? What do these vague lessons of yours preach?”

“Whenever I remember the faces of those who once accompanied me in battle as I floundered about foolishly, I always think: why was it not me? They were good people. I am not. And now, selfishly I can’t help but think, if they take Mei from me too, I will never forgive the gods who watch as we dance upon this cursed stage while they sit upon their thrones built upon empty promises and broken ideals.”

Whether he was stewing in anger or stunned at the audacity of his chosen hero’s words, Veritas chose not to answer, leaving the young dragon to her thoughts alone. Grunts of pain and the sounds of battle pulled their fragmented attention back to the ordeal at hand, and the God of Justice turned away to do his part.

“Now isn’t the time for this, Enthyskana.”

Enthy’s grip upon the handle of her axe tightened before once again turning slack. Light once again coalesced at her fingertips as she prepared the beginnings of a spell, but her eyes remained downcast.

“Bind this sinner so they shall trespass no more.”

The young dragon locked her sights upon the figure of the unfamiliar version of Eleanor who stood by Nergal’s side. Neither sadness nor hesitation wet her eyes, leaving behind only apathetic acceptance and a gaze that looked upon the white-haired demon as if they were an enemy.

Golden chains burst out from below Hajun, this time aiming to entangle and burrow into flesh, delivering a painful bite rather than simply wrapping around the target’s body like usual.

“As you wish, Veritas,”

she whispered under her breath.

Her hands no longer shook.

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Interactions:

Mentions:

“I can’t believe you’re coworkers with that guy.”


Standing amongst her fellow heroes, Nel put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure what was going on anymore. One second, everyone was making kung pao chicken out of Nergal with a flurry of coordinated attacks. Next second, Eleanor got yoinked down the well! By the time Nel caught up with everyone, Eleanor was a man and Nergal was a smug bastard and Enthy was having an angsty moment!


Nel dropped her arms back to her sides and pouted. She was feeling some angst coming on herself. ”So we gotta beat up Eleanor real good? Or… off her?”


Beside her, Shiva huffed disdainfully. “Have I taught you nothing, you little dunce?”


Nel looked around at the gods battling alongside their heroes, then squinted up at Shiva. “You haven’t done much in this fight, have you?”


“I can pop your head like a balloon,” Shiva threatened, glaring back down at Nel. Without another word, he stepped a few paces away from Nel, then took on a familiar position across from her.


”Inviting me for a dance?” Nel giggled. She didn’t miss a beat when Shiva commenced the Tandava. It’d been a long, long time since they danced together. The last time was when Nel was still learning the steps, and Shiva danced across from her while she tried to copy him like a mirror. Now, they were partners in a shared mission to deliver blissful salvation.


The duo’s steps brought the well alight with flames. Nel’s movements were brisk and bright, and her heart and mind equally so. After all, how could one expel darkness without the most radiant light?


Shiva had none of the good humor that his champion did. Centuries of scorn and antagonism were now brought to physical form by the ferocious flourish of his toned body.


Twin pillars of inferno assailed their foes, one seeking to liberate, and the other to vanquish.

 

[Kibaa]

Bastet
Mother of Cats

Khatiy grimaced, landing with a thud and a splash-- having dove forward in an attempt to grab on to Eleanor's hand, only to hand face-first into the wet floor. Her features frowned deeply with feline wrinkles of frustration, clawing the ground. As a very brief moment of silence is shared between Paimon, herself, and Azaera, the sound of Eleanor's scream vaguely echoing from deep below the surface. It was clear that despite the party's combined efforts, despite having succesfully separated Nergal from Pheonix.. the enemy was still alive. Something had taken Eleanor. The time had come, to venture forth. To breach the Well.
...

Bastet grimaced as her beast senses alerted her of what was going on. Nergal was gone, but not defeated. Only missing. Glancing around at those within her barrier, she could not help but feel out of place, her duty to protect the injured heroes from Nergal's evil already complete. The Plague God's projectiles would have collided with her barrier only to fall meekly to the ground like duds, disarmed bombs, their evil properties nullified by Bastet's magic. The Goddess thumped her staff into the ground, dispelling the barrier as well as the lion-sized sphinxes that upheld the barrier. She felt out of place here. Confessions of love, injured human mages that had no business being here. Though she had completed her duty to protect humanity from evil forces, both natural and unnatural, Bastet knew that her guidance was immediately needed elsewhere. "Lord Wanga, I trust you have everything under control here."

...

Khatiy stared at her own reflection in the water after Paimon had already leapt in. Rohen, Nel, the heroes showed no hesitation in diving through the well to reach their comrade. Bastet stood there too, next to the Usaaman, staring down solemnly at the water. No words were spoken between each other, only silence. And then, as Bastet's eyes squinted furiously at the water, detecting the evil that was manifesting deep below, where Eleanor was taken, her hand gripped angrily around the handle of her staff. At once, the Goddess thumped her staff into the water, and without further contemplation, the rippling water consumed both Khatiy and Bastet.

...

????

A thunderous echo bursts through the inner chamber of the Well, where Nergal had taken Eleanor. Something powerful was coming through the vortex. Right then, the vortex above exploded violently for a moment, as a powerful force suddenly breaks through. Releasing a fearsome, blood-chilling roar that swept through the Chamber with divine magic, suppressing any evil energies inside, this force would reveal itself to be a great lionin entity, perhaps once a living thing, now a fossilized titan of stone and crystal, powered by the magic of the heavens. Its massive head punched through the bottom layer of the Vortex, protruding out into the chamber with abundant intention to crush whatever evil had manifested itself inside the Well. A menace so majestic and large that its body did not fit through the opening of the vortex, only able to push its head through, remaining there, the rest of its body suspended within the vortex above the room.


The entity's eyes had immediately lit up with vibrant, red celestial energy, drowning the room with a sickening ringing sound before unleashing. Bursting with anger and power, the massive feline's eyes bursted, firing a superheated solar beam of destruction right at Hajun and Nergal, intending to scorch them at once. Its very entrance into the vortex had also pushed out swathes of water onto the new battlefield, the waves of water now rapidly evaporated by Nelumba and Shiva's godly flames which cause layers of dangerous steam to momentarily surround Nergal and Hajun before quickly evaporating. The feline roared once more, this time, revealing the mastermind behind its appearance. Bastet, Mother of Cats-- who stood there in stark posture upon the stone tongue of the suspended champion, a furious expression upon her features. Beside her stood her Hero, Khatiy of Usaama, accompanied by the noble Ter Fuzen at her own side. The voice of the celestial matriarch of cats rang through the chamber with a divine echo as she stomped the end of her staff loudly upon the sphinx's tongue in a clear declaration of war. "Eleanor? Heavens.. We are honorbound to avenge her." Khatiy lamented, frowning angrily.

"Demon King Hajun! What foul necromancy has commanded your return?! By the Will of the Heavens, you were banished long ago. Your evil is not welcome in this realm-- What have you done, Nergal?!" Bastet's voice rang with uncharacteristic fury. The Goddess of Cats had not shown herself for battle for many centuries until now. Not against Tiryan, not against Golroth. It was apparent that Bastet may possess certain knowledge about Hajun that has provoked her to get involved now of all times, when she has not done so in the past. Or, worse yet, it may even be possible that Bastet had interacted with Hajun in the past. Whatever the case, Bastet's concerns were loud and clear, this was a situation that she would not leave in the hands of mere mortals. Evidently, Bastet felt that her involvement was necessary, for reasons the Heroes would likely find out sooner rather than later.

"We will not repeat King Paimon's mistakes of the past. Your name will meet its end by my hands, Hajun! Consider this chamber to be your final grave!" Bastet roared, spreading out her hands, staff in hand."

The sphinx itself bellowed with another guttural roar. Its name was Heka-Maat, the First Sphinx. Firstborn of Bastet, the legends tell of how Heka-Maat led Bastet's army against the evils of Veita in ancient times, when humans were still struggling to settle the continent peacefully. Had Heka-Maat met in battle with Hajun in the past? The beast, although now a fossil of stone and magic, seemed angered and restless to put Hajun to rest, perhaps powered by a memory of the past.

"I will not allow you to leave this Well! My angels will make sure of it!" The goddess proclaimed, as from the jaw of Heka-Maat, Bastet's guardian sphinxes would now manifest, spreading their large wings as they leapt out from Heka-Maat's mouth and took flight. Larger and more armored than they had appeared before, albeit much smaller than Heka-Maat himselfthese were the Sphinxes in their true form. Nyalon and Ter Cit, who bombard Hajun with the same solar beam that Heka-Maat had casted as they each fly to the entrances of the Well, standing guard there.

"You have been a fool if you expected your return to be met only by mortals, Demon King. And you will die a fool once more. Die!"

Bastet thrusted her staff in the direction of Hajun, channeling her heavenly energy, the power and mass that she wielded able to be felt across the entire chamber, like the pulling force of a Black Hole. This energy manifests itself in the very maw of Heka-Maat, with crackling bolts of orange energy beginning to form a visible conduit.
"... Shindwa, pepo. KOMBORA KUBWA - KUAA JOKA! (Be vanquished, Demon-- Great Dragonbane Missile!")

The room was drowned by a deafening silence, before a thunderous sonic boom bursted from Heka-Maat's maw. As Bastet fired her divine missile, a heavenly projectile of energy guided by an echanted harpoon that fired away from Heka-Maat's mechanized stone interior, zooming towards Hajun with dangerous velocity. This was when Khatiy clapped her hands together, lowering herself and planting them on Heka-Maat's tongue, channeling her own mana.

"We will decide this battle before the enemy has a chance to power up! Fusion Art: Silver Armory! [Metal]" Channeling her mana through Heka-Maat's body, Khatiy proceeds to echant the flying harpoon with a powerful silver coating, enhancing its capability to inflict damage upon evil targets. "Grand Metal Fusion: Golden-Flame Alloy!" A superheated boom emanates from the heroes position as Bastet's projectile would suddenly ignite with great Golden Flames, powered by Bastet's own celestial elements, but also by Khatiy's rare Golden Flame mana, intent on delivering a powerful blow to Hajun to set the tone of battle early.
As the Dragonkiller Harpoon finished its trajectory, it would produce a grand explosion, with the hopes that Enthyskana's chains would ensure a direct hit, and hopefully provide an opportunity for Nel and Shiva to consume the enemy once and for all with their flames, perhaps saving Eleanor in the process -- Although Bastet and Khatiy seemed to be under the impression that Eleanor was gone, or that destroying Hajun was more important than potentially saving Eleanor.

Khatiy's eyes tilt to glance at Bastet for a moment as they endure the smoke of the harpoon's impact. "Mama Bastet.. Wewe na Bwana Heka-Maat mlikuwa wapi wakati wa vita dhidi ya Golroth? Labda ungeweza kumuua kwa uwezo huu. (Mother Bastet.. Where were you and Lord Heka-Maat during the battle against Golroth? Perhaps you would have been able to slay him with this power.") Bastet glanced back, lowering her staff. "Mimi na wewe tutamshughulikia Golroth muda ukifika, Bibi Khatiy. Tafadhali, mzingatie Hajun. Ni lazima tuhakikishe anakomeshwa hapa na sasa. (You and I will deal with Golroth when the time comes, Lady Khatiy. Please, concentrate on Hajun. We must ensure he is stopped here and now.")

"Basi mimi nakuachia Mfalme Pepo wewe Mama, nitakabiliana na Nergal sambamba na Mfalme Paimon, na tukibahatika labda Arrian, Suzuki, Azaera na hao wengine wakaungana nasi. Je, Tiberius aliuawa? (Then I leave the Demon King to you, Mother. I will face Nergal alongside King Paimon, and if we are fortunate, perhaps Arrian, Suzuki, Azaera and the rest of them will join us. Was Tiberius killed?")

"Kijana Nakayama aliweza kumponya. Lenga akili yako sasa, Malkia mdogo. Bwana Shiva na Bwana Veritas na mimi tutamfukuza Hajun mara moja na kwa wote. (Young Nakayama was able to heal him. Focus your mind now, young Sultan. Lord Shiva and Lord Veritas and I will banish Hajun once and for all.")

Khatiy continued the conversation no further as the smoke began to settle, reaveling the chain of the harpoon which was connecting the Harpoon itself, wherever it landed, to the mechanism inside of Heka-Maat. Khatiy bursted with energy at once, channeling her inner power, feline ears sprouting out of her cranium, dangling with long, royal earrings, as lionin fangs now decorated her mouth's features. Reaching for her sistrum, she rang it loudly, settling her eyes upon Nergal like a predator homing in on her prey. Ter Fuzen was the first to pounce forward, beginning to sprint down the chain towards Hajun and Nergal with hunger and fury. Right behind him, a group of old friends now make their appearance, as eight mighty lions spring forth from Heka-Maat's jaw as well. These were Khatiy's monsters-- The Azuzema Clan. Like their prince, Ter Fuzen, they were dressed in long, brown Usaaman cloaks, each one adorned in many bits of bronze jewelry denoting their heritage as one of the Noble Lion Clans of Usaama. Equipped with sharpened bronze attachments at their fangs and claws, it was almost cruel, the way the Usaamans had transformed these noble beasts into weapons of war. At the very least, these eight lions were what was left of the Azuzema Clan, because, as the party may remember, most of the Azuzema Clan was slain in battle by Tiryan's forces on that fateful day when Arlux was killed too. They were what remained of Ter Fuzen's sons, but it only meant their hunger for vengeance was even greater. For the moment, they were all chained with a leash, all 9 of which Khatiy held in both hands.

"Obey me, Azuzema!" Savage, chill-inducing roars filled the chambers as the clan descended upon Nergal with blind wrath, Khatiy clasping her hands once more to amass more mana, pressing the edges of the 9 leashes together. "Sage Art: Beast Armory..." The Sultan chanted, channeling her mana through the harpoon's chain to reach her lions, armoring them with a thick layer of Mana Armor styled in the fashion of ancient Alkebu-lan armor. Her black Sage tattoos rippled through the features of her face now, spiraling down through her back and shoulders. "Tear the enemy asunder! Savannah Art: Sacred Beast Charge!" Releasing the leashed, Khatiy fueled her companions with her magic, enabling them to suddenly lunge and launch themselves at Nergal like rockets through the air, their mana armor igniting with Golden Flame. "Fuse!" She poured her mana into them, controlling this orchestra of flaming lions, all of them diving head-first for Nergal, bombarding him as they would explode with Golden Flame upon impact. Seeking to claw and bite him apart right afterwards, but the true objective of this technique was to attempt to wrap down Nergal in Golden Flame chains, their leashes, taking inspiration from Enthyskana and Veritas. These chains were not embued with any kind of suppression magic like Enthyskana's, rather it was Khatiy's attempt at locking down the enemy through brute force and offensive magic of her own.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions:
Mentions: Nessi

One after another the heroes chained together their valiant efforts like the constellations under the canvas of twilight. It was a testament to the strength and cunning of Nergal that he was able to stand before such power and unity alone, even with the Phoenix in his possession. However, it was also a testament to their growth that together, they could even push back a god. Then finally, like a comet, Eleanor streaked across that same canvas as she always had. It was strange, for a moment Aaxir thought he saw Arlux in her place, but thr thought did not bring the aroma of sweet nostalgia. Aaxir's heart sank a bit, she was always running ahead of him; truly fearless in all areas of life and he couldn't help but feel as if he was falling behind. It was as if so many were racing to take her place. He had to catch up...he couldn't let her become the next Arlux.

The Phoenix was finally set free and Nergal was no longer a threat, but something was wrong. Like honey falling from a hive, time came to a dripping halt, a dream too sweet, a victory too good to be true.
"Eleanor," Aaxir shouted before taking off after her immediately. Why was it always like this? Why was he always chasing her shadow? Why did he even care? Aaxir's imagination was his own worst enemy, for with each ticking second Aaxir could only imagine the fate of Eleanor and Nergal. She wouldn't lose...not now, or at least that is what he told himself. Nevertheless, the infinite power of one's own imagination could not hold a candle to the finite power of reality. Aaxir lost his breath, his eyes widened in disbelief though his heart knew that the monster before him was Eleanor. Everything about her appearance was a grotesque characture of who she was even down to her expression. The sinister aura that exuded from her signaled that this was no longer a mortal entity, but a demonic replacement with the smell of death all around him. Aaxir could only remain frozen as time left him behind. To his surprise his comrades immediately launched attack after attack against the monster that was now Eleanor. Perhaps they sensed the danger the mysterious entity represented, but this was still Eleanor. What if they killed her? Why couldn't he lift his sword?

"That is Hajun. Even though I am the most beautiful, bountiful, and wisest goddess of the entire pantheon, I have limited knowledge of the god killer known as Hajun. One thing is certain, you are no longer dealing with that stain known as Nergal. If you are to battle, you will have to go all out...luckily, he appears to not be at full strength. If he was, you would be dead."

"But...Eleanor what if I-"

"I won't sugarcoat it. You will have to prepared to kill her if need be. We cannot allow Hajun to grow to full strength."

"..........No"

"Arhghgk, oh my chest! Breathe Pele, breathe. Um...E-excuse me? Aaxir, darling, I just so eloquently explained that this isn't an ene-"

"No"

"Wh-what are you five? You can't just "nah" reality!"

"Eleanor is in there. I can tell. She wouldn't let some obscure god take over her body. The very thought is comical."

"WELL I beg to differ because she quite obviously did!"

"I'll win on my terms........Eleanor! There's no way you're losing to this has been! I won't accept it!"

"Oh for Pele's sake...FINE. I mean if anyone could pull it off, it would certainly be MY chosen hero! Oh that will really stick it to my sist- ahem...Aaxir, You have my blessing, go save the reckless woman."

"Consider it done."

That was still Eleanor. Despite what he said, fear crept into the fissures of his heart. Nevertheless, the only thing worse than having to kill Eleanor with his own hand was the thought of this sick God piloting Eleanor's body like some puppet. He couldn't help but recall the Eleanor who was lying helplessly on the cool stones of the prison. Perhaps she was in that state now. Alone, lost in darkness consumed by her own despair...At that time what she needed the most was someone to offer their hand and help her. Instead, Aaxir chose venomous words to snuff out whatever light she had left, something he still regrets. This time will be different. He won't let her deal with this alone and when she wakes up, he would be the one offering his hand so she could stand once again.

Aaxir let out his battle cry before flying toward Hajun. Emerald sparks grew into a swell to consume the Obsidian blade he wielded proudly while his scales blackened signaling his divine synchronization. He weaved through and around the various attacks launched toward Hajun, before circling to a blind spot to land a heavy strike that would also consume the enemy in his dragon flames.

"Eleanor, wake up! "

 

[Midrick]

Lower Empire (Instrumental)

Arrian Dreagher

Arrian's form was battered back by Nergal's counterattack, remaining upright but sliding backwards several meters. Gritting the teeth of his iron form, Arrian charged back into the fray as he threw himself at Nergal in an attempt to keep the plague god occupied. His efforts however were in vain as Nergal bypassed the front line of the heroes and attacked the the spell casters, both heroes and academy students who accompanied them. A combination of attacks and diversions by Han Xiangzi, Freyr, Mei, a newly risen Tiberius, and all else who were engaged sent Nergal reeling. Arrian began to rise, but a his limbs refused to obey his command as the fires in and around his body dimmed and sputtered, his from returned to that of his normal self. immediately he fell to one knee, Nergal's rot had been halted by the divine fires of Cu Chulainn's power that was poured into Arrian, but the damage was done. Taking a few moments to gather his strength, Arrian suddenly realized that the ride side of his vision was occluded.

"What's wrong?" Cu Chulainn's voice, usually boisterous and dripping with sarcasm had turned to one of abject concern as he quickly returned to Arrian's side, placing his hand on his kneeling champion's shoulder and lowering himself to Arrian's level.

"Cu... I can't see..." Arrian muttered sluggishly, removing his right hand from the side of his face that had been sliced by one of nergal's missile. Cu Chulainn's features drew up into a cringe at the sight of the damage. the decay had spread to encompass the upper part of his jaw and the rot had attacked his eye. the organ had turned a milky white with blotches of blackend, coagulated, blood speckled throughout the sclera. The iris was faded and sagged, the muscles that controled it having died sometime while they were synchronized, the ocular organ utterly decimated.

Cu Chulainn cursed, Arrian had burned a significant amount of mana while utilizing the second of their divine forms, the rot had been halted significantly in other areas, but the eye was too far gone and seemed to be host for Nergal's malady to continue spreading. In that moment Cu Chulainn realized what would need to happen to keep his champion in the fight.

As Paimon and Eleanor battered Nergal together, Cu Chulainn lead Arrian away from the immediate battle towards where Rohen had emerged from the waters below them.

"We both know it would be pointless to waste mana stymieing the damage, its already to far gone..." Cu said in a grave tone as he reached towards Arrian's boot, where a dagger was stored. Drawing the small blade, Cu began heating the blade with divine magic.

"Just get it out..." the feverish nausea prevented him from saying much more, but Arrian began to clench his jaw and hold himself steady as Cu Chulainn placed his hand on the top of his head and peeled his decayed eyelid open.

"Odin sacrificed his eye for knowledge once upon a time, But im not certain any of the lessons I've taught will get through that thick skull of yours." Cu Chulainn admonished, hardness replacing the concern in his voice as his grip tightened around the dagger, preparing to excise the source of the disease. "Offer yours for strength instead, for the will and resolve to end this battle and all to come for the promise of a better tomorrow... Remember what you've learned today so we don't have to repeat this procedure again, I'd rather not make a habit of this."

Arrian's vision went white in his remaining eye, the pain itself exquisite in its intensity even though most of the cells and nerves were gripped by necrosis. A strangled scream tore its way through his throat as Cu Chulainn flicked his wrist with divine persicion and severed the ocular muscles and nerve, allowing the putrescent orb to fall free from the socket. Any grogginess was banished as Arrian tried to focus on breathing to distract himself from the aggressive burn in where his right eye used to be, Cu Chulainn meanwhile tore part of Arrian's sleeve to fashion a makeshift bandage to cover the vacant hole. As this took place, Azaera's realm destroying axe shattered the cage containing Phoenix, and Nergal was forced back. Despite the dazzling display of power and might, it seemed even without Phoenix empowering, Nergal was one persistent bastard. Attempting to respond to Paimon's call for aid Arrian stood, but his weakened body betrayed him once more, only managing a few uncoordinated stumbles before Eleanor was dragged under the water into the well of wishes.

"Fuck!" Arrian's cry echoed in the cavern, consternation setting in. What had been supposed to be a simple task had been a headache at every turn. And now even after fighting a god there was still more to do. the pain in his eye faded now from a vibrant burn to a dull throb, ever present and aching but still enough to agitate. Arrian silently cursed Nohea and resolved to take the man's other arm as recompense for the utter shit storm he had thrown them into, the imagined violence soothing his growing intemperance with the promise of reprisal. With the partial return of his strength, and deciding that he wouldn't be outdone by his compatriots, Arrian lowered himself into the crystalline waters and with a deep inhalation and descended to the Well.

Arrian emerged drenched and landed on his feet, greeting him was the sight of Rohen, Enthyskana, Nel, Shiva, and Aaxir all attacking someone who looked eerily similar to Eleanor. Seeing the raw power displayed in their attacks, it didn't take a genius to decipher that whoever this mystery addition was, they were a bigger threat than Nergal at the moment. As he took stock of the situation, his eye lingered on Enthy, something was wrong with her. Her eyes seemed dead, laced with apathetic dispassion, the light that once was had gone, replaced by a yawning nothingness that could threaten to swallow someone whole if they became used to giving in to the darker corners of their mind. Arrian would know, as he had become quite adept at it during the time when the heroes were separated. To see your enemy not as a living being, but as simply obstacle to be destroyed whatever way you saw fit was the first step on a descent into a place that would see you warped into shadow of what made you who you were, a place where you killed the parts of yourself that sought resolution in ways other than the extreme to better sharpen the killer instincts within into the keenest edge they could be.

As much as he wanted to say something to her, now wasn't the time to wax philosophical, Arrian was injured and nearly spent, and he would be more hindrance than help with whatever Aaxir and the rest of the more able bodied were engaging at this moment, but that didn't mean he was out of the fight just yet. Arrian coalesced his remaining mana into bringing forth his ace of spades, a wound was rent into the fabric of space and time adjacent to Arrian, just large enough to plunge an arm into. He planted his sword into the stone tip first, embedding it for later reclamation as a he inserted his right arm into the aether, his fingers brushing against finding purchase upon his prize. Arrian withdrew a crimson spear crackling with eldritch energy, the tear in between the material and immaterial world closing as he did. He walked slowly until he stood beside Khatiy as he held the Gae Bolg, spear tip pointed downwards, and prepared himself for the coming fight.

"I'll follow your lead on this one, Usaaman, but when the time comes, He's mine..." Arrian said as he leveled and pointed the spear at Nergal, A baleful red pulsed intermittently through the divine weapon like a malign heart beat, the same energy began to light the iris of Arrian's eye and the empty socket covered by the bandage.

Mentions: Pretty much everyone
Interactions: Kibaa

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

His arm wreathed in hard shadows, Tiberius breathed deep. The cold, night wind shrieked as it passed over him, knifing across his exposed chest and snatching at the ivory locks of his head. Their valiant efforts, vindicated, resulted in the Phoenix's tremendous and overdue liberation. The combination of their attacks dealt a blow to a God, it was almost difficult for Tiberius to resist that urge. A surge of satisfaction was stemmed, the pride of a blazing heart momentarily snuffed out, for the gladiator knew, entwined with his Goddess in spirit, that this perilous battle was not concluded. Attuned as they were, Goddess and Gladiator sensed the fickle, shifting tide. His dim azures now riven with divinity, gazed across the verdant lands of the Well. Like a falling star streaking down from a starless night sky, Eleanor's spirit sundered beyond repair. They heard Aaxir's cry, his shout reverberating. Disturbing. Revolting. His electric blue gaze fixed Eleanor, watching his friend's body be mangled; from the creaking of bones, the skin on her battle-hardened face sag and tighten, the musculature in her chest contorting into an unnatural shape, to the way her fingers snap, lengthen into someone else's. Despite Tiberius' stoicism, he felt the keenest sense of revulsion since his recruitment of their holy covenant. In fact, the sight alone reminded him of the defiled heroes whose cold bodies became the hosts for a parasitic corruption, their bloody corpses a testament to the perverseness they defied.

The brutal, merciless scene before him provided a strange assurance. It gave him focus.

The shadows trailed from his arm, wafting up and down strangely, Tiberius lifted his hand. He clenched his fist, closing his eyes tight. His fist shook. For a moment, his muscles become suffused with the potency of the celestial mind. For a moment, the confines of his mind are expanded as he merges one with the Manifestation of the Cosmos. But, the union did not last. "Still enfeebled. Nergal's assault." The gladiator spoke aloud, voice possessed of a glacial coldness, a hardness like ice. "Mmmmm, indeed, my dear Gladiator. However, fret not, it shan't be forever." Her illustrious voice rang out inside — deep, alluring, gracing his soul with the liberating warmth of a summer's breeze on his back. "It is heartening to see you stand tall once again." Tiberius paused before replying, letting the howling wind be his voice for a moment. "It was sobering." "Oh, yes, yes. Especially with how drunk you've been, my prized Gladiator." Qin trailed off, a phantom of a smile parted Tiberius' scarred lips. "We'll discuss that later. For now, who is this?" The gladiator gestured towards this new malefactor.

"It must be seen to be believed." Qin spoke, her voice coloured ominously. Tiberius felt a raking motion at the back of his head as Qin once again subsumed a position within the folds of his mind. Her svelte fingers pierce, puncturing deep. His eyes saw not the battlefield before him, but things long since forgotten. When it stopped, his breath caught and his hand swam up, messaging his temple. He almost reeled from the psychic transference. Eventually Tiberius nodded. It had been a foe unlike any other, even Nergal's diabolical deviance did not equal his master's monstrous nature. He emanated a black, aching presence since his manifestation, growing thicker with the tick of each second.

Regardless, the path forward had been clear in order to free Eleanor, they must fight her captor here and now. Not simply for her sake. Not simply for theirs, but the trembling balance of an unstable World hinged on their success.

There was a metallic thump and a heavy thud of a maul being shouldered behind the gladiator. He didn't turn, innately knowing who it was behind him. For a few long seconds, the Gladiator and the Night's Warden locked eyes, saying nothing. Without a word, Tiberius placed a gloved hand on Polux's pauldron. And the dread giant returned in kind, wrapping a gauntlet around the man's shoulder. Shadows, as thick as black smoke, poured forth from the pair, enwrapping them in its obfuscating darkness. They moved.

Tiberius' grip on his spatha tightened with a subconscious fervor, his mind steeled by his discipline, his Goddess brook no assistance this time. He had not required it. In this hallowed place, the morass of shadows shifted about, striding through the rank-filled air. On one side, Tiberius emerged. Spatha blade hurtled, trailing streams of etheric darkness in its wake, towards Hajun in tandem Aaxir, whose obsidian weapon suffused wholly, a conductor, jade energies that snapped like fire.

Polux, ever impervious and revenge-hungry, assisted Khatiy and Arrian's efforts against the wretched plague God. There would be no greater satisfaction than to stamp out this virulent vermin vainly delighting in misery dolled out by hands, the titan shall savour it.



Interactions: LazyDaze (Aaxir), Kibaa (Khatiy), Midrick (Arrian);
Mentions: Nessi (Nergal/Eleanor - Hajun);

 

[Zariel]

Azaera and Inanna reaped the reward for their combined efforts, Phoenix's freedom, the sweet fruit of their labour. But their moment of victory was fleeting.

A chilling wind swept through the Well of Origin, carrying with it a sense of impending dread. The water rippled anxiously, and the ground seemed to tremble underfoot. Inanna's eyes narrowed as she sensed a dark, familiar presence approaching.

Demon King Paimon, The God Slayer.

While he now referred to himself as Hajun, he was still as sick and twisted as ever. Except, something was off. He felt... weaker.

Azaera’s reptilian eyes fixed on Hajun. The vessel he inhabited was a twisted, grotesque imitation of Eleanor. The resemblance was a mockery, a cruel joke.

"That form... It's holding him back. He isn't at his full strength," Inanna remarked with a sense of urgency. "We must strike him at once before he completely assimilates into Eleanor's body." The Wayward Blade now had soulless eyes, and she was shrouded in a dark aura that pulsed with malevolent energy.

The sight of her dear friend being controlled by a fiend ripped open old wounds. It dragged Azaera back into the depths of her own haunted memories, a time when she herself had been a puppet under the thrall of the Banished Ones. They had used the cursed crown to bend her formidable power to their vile will, forcing her to commit unspeakable atrocities.

Echoes of those dark days thundered in her mind. She could still hear the desperate cries of the innocent as her flames consumed their homes, the crackling of burning wood, and the screams of lives abruptly snuffed out. She remembered the sensation of helplessness, of her own teeth being used against her will to bring about death and destruction. The images of ravaged towns and charred bodies seared into her conscience, reminding her of the brutality of her past sins.

But amid the torment of these memories, she found sanctuary in one particular encounter—the memory of her liberation. She recalled that fateful day in the Monastery. It was Aliza who had shattered the crown that shackled Azaera, breaking the hold of the Banished Ones. In that moment, Azaera felt the chains of control fall away, and for the first time in ages, she was free.

I will find you again, one day, my dear friend... the she-dragon reminisced, as she remembered the reason she first set out on this journey, which led her to reunite with her former companions.

And at last, the final memory she relived was of her revenge.

With a roar that echoed through the rubble and broken hall, Azaera launched herself at the prophet. Her massive body coiled around him with lightning speed, trapping him in her crushing embrace. The prophet's sneer turned to a look of panic as he struggled against her powerful coils.

"You thought you could control me!" Azaera hissed, tightening her grip. "Your fate was sealed the moment you adorned my head with that crown."

The prophet tried to summon his dark magic, but Azaera's fury was unstoppable. She relished the sound of his squeals and pleas for mercy. His voice trembled with fear as she constricted him, her amethyst eyes blazing with a thirst for retribution. She glared into his fear-filled eyes, savouring his terror, before devouring him whole.

The dragoness snapped back.

She spotted Aaxir, the first to hurl himself at the new enemy. There was an unusual determination in his eyes, though, he appeared troubled, an inner turmoil that he fought to keep at bay. And in a streak of darkness, Tiberius followed closely after the red dragon.

Wary of their new foe, Azaera turned to her goddess. "Inanna, can you assist the gladiator and Aaxir face off against Hajun? I will help the others deal with Nergal. My flames are a potent weapon against that rodent's attacks."

"Understood. I'll see what I can do," Inanna answered resolutely. She reached above her head, her fingers curling around the air as she summoned her Unbreakable Scimitar. The weapon appeared in her grasp, its golden hilt gleaming with divine power. As soon as her hand closed around it, a whirling sandstorm engulfed the surrounding area, the winds howling with a ferocity that matched the goddess’s own warrior spirit.

"Inanna..."

"Yes?"

Azaera looked over, worried, at the crazed Aaxir, and then back at the Goddess of War. Always so reckless, she sighed.

"Please... protect him."

Inanna simply nodded.

With a burst of superhuman speed, Inanna raced across the battlefield in a blur as she sprinted toward Aaxir and Tiberius. She launched herself high into the air, her figure vanishing into the sun's blinding light. Using the sun as her cover, Inanna dived down at Hajun, her body twisting violently through the air like a spinning blade. Her descent was swift and silent, the element of surprise her greatest weapon. She cut through the air with lethal grace, her scimitar aimed directly at the God Slayer.

Meanwhile, Azaera focused her attention on the looming threat of the Plague God. Her serpentine form shifted with a predatory grace, her piercing eyes fixed on the malevolent figure spreading decay and corruption in his wake.

"You dared to defile the sacred Phoenix! And now you revive a Demon King! ... For that, we will make you sssuffer, vermin!" Azaera hissed, her scales rippling with anger.

Summoning Inanna's Fury, the black dragon unleashed an empowered roar, her voice blending with the divine power of the goddess of war. The ground shook and the air trembled as the sound waves rippled towards Nergal, intent on blasting him away.

Inhaling deeply, she then exhaled a torrent of black fire, scorching the earth beneath her. She slithered through the flames, her dark scales absorbing and reflecting the heat. The fire clung to her, wrapping her in a burning shield that danced with an ethereal yet terrifying beauty.

Several of her allies rallied at her side: Arrian, The Berserker; Khatiy, The Sultan of Usaama; and Pollux, The Warden Of The Outer Night.

Azaera looked back at the rest behind the frontline, each one in turn, and in the end, her eyes settled on Enthyskana. Her gaze lingered on the younger dragon for a moment, before she faced back toward her opponent.

Wreathed in her own deadly flames, she roared fiercely again, challenging the Plague God.

AZAERA​

 

[Dovinique]

Dong Mei

"We... we did it?" Mei stood among the others, her eyes wide with disbelief as Nergal was pushed back and the cage of Phoenix finally shattered. The triumphant expression on Eleanor's face as she emerged confirmed their victory. A bright smile spread across Mei's face as the realization sank in… they had finally won.

"We did it!!!" Mei's smile widened into a beaming grin, revealing her white teeth that her friends often praised. She spun around in a joyful dance, her heart filled with exhilaration. In her elation, she reached out and grasped the forearm of the person beside her, trying to pull him into her celebratory leap. "Let’s jump with me... Let’s—" Mei's excitement froze as she turned and saw who she was holding. Out of everyone… it just had to be… Fel…

Mei gulped, feeling her strength drained away. Despite her sudden nervousness, her grip on Fel's forearm tightened involuntarily. Her heart raced as she stood there, unable to release her grip.

Glasses askew on his face, Fel froze, caught in an odd, ungainly pose with Mei’s grip on his arm nearly dragging him off his feet. Stupefied, he stared between the girl’s rigid expression and her hand clutching at his forearm. He hadn’t expected to be ambushed by a member of his own party, much less one as unassuming as Mei.

For a moment, the two waited out a tense stalemate, broken only as Fel hesitantly brought his other foot down, pulling slowly away. His attempt at a retreat came to a jerking halt as Mei’s petrified grasp arrested his movement. The awkward pause stretched out even longer, wearing painfully at his sanity. Finally, Fel cut in with a pointed cough, reaching with his other hand to free his entrapped arm.

“Er, yes,” he began haltingly. He paused, choosing his next words with as much delicacy and tact as he could bring to bear – which, needless to say, was very little. “I suppose we did. But, ah, let’s… not, shall we?” He made an attempt at a polite smile and gave up halfway, leaving it as a piddling grimace. He was not fond of sudden contact.

When Fel’s fingers touched her, of course with the intention to release her grip, an almost electric sensation jolted through Mei, making her mind go blank. As soon as Fel had fully removed himself from her grasp, Mei instinctively pulled her hands away, holding them up as if warding off an accusation.

“Let’s not, of course!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound composed. She immediately avoided Fel’s gaze so she could curse herself, mouthing the words “kill me” as she believed her image in front of Fel had been damaged. He definitely looked pissed, she thought. Another silence fell between the two, the awkwardness though stealing all Mei’s attention to the point that she was not aware of what happened to Eleanor.

Like a life savior, Han approached from behind while riding Escha, stopping beside Mei, “Now is not the time to be flustered. We need to follow Eleanor,” Han said, extending his hand towards her with a playful smile.

Panic flickered in Mei’s eyes as she quickly crossed her arms and immediately shot a glare at Han, “What??? Wow, who’s flustered, Mr. Flute???” she retorted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. Despite her words, she took his hand and swiftly leaped up to sit behind him on Escha, she secretly thanked Han in her mind for saving her from the embarrassing moment. Mei glanced at Fel, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of tomato red, “Please, sometimes my God can be delusional. Don’t mind his words.” Han could only roll his eyes and sigh, but before they left, he gave Fel a quick, stern look, mouthing, “I’m watching you.”

Stunned into silence for the second time in as many minutes, Fel could only stand and watch as the three took off.

“...What?”

————​

Instead of following the other heroes to the well, Han steered Escha slightly to the left, heading towards Phoenix, "Let's pick her up. We can't leave her here alone," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Mei.

Jumping off Escha, Mei quickly crouched and scooped Phoenix into her arms. Despite Phoenix being quite heavier than she anticipated, Mei managed to carry her back to Escha and climbed back up. Once both Mei and Phoenix were settled, Han brought his flute to his lips, “Hold on tight,” he instructed. As he played a quick tune, Escha responded instantly, launching forward with incredible speed. The wind whipped past them as they soared through the air, descending towards the Well of Wishes at a breakneck pace.

Once they arrived, the scene was pretty chaotic. Several Gods and heroes were already ready to engage in battle with Nergal and Ele”Hajun"Nor. The situation was precarious, with the enemies holding an upper hand. The heroes had to be extra cautious, for they needed to bring Eleanor back alive from the clutches of Hajun.

"Is... that... Eleanor? What happened?" Mei asked, her voice trembling with confusion and concern. She dismounted from Escha, still cradling Phoenix in her arms. Mei hadn’t witnessed the entire transformation, only catching a glimpse of Eleanor becoming Hajun. Despite the terrifying change, there were faint traces of Eleanor's essence that Mei could still recognize.

Han nodded grimly, "Yes, that is Eleanor. It appears Hajun has already taken over her body." He dismissed Escha with a gentle pat, the gryphon vanishing in a swirl of shimmering light. Han then turned his attention back to Mei, "You’ve done well, sweet pie. Now, I need you to stay here and guard Phoenix. Don’t let any of the foul gods get close to her. I will join the others in the battle."

Mei's eyes widened, "But—"

"No buts," Han interrupted, clearly leaving no room for argument, "Phoenix's safety is also crucial."

Mei nodded reluctantly, "Take care, Han!" she shouted as Han dashed forward, merging into the fray of Gods and heroes. Turning her attention to Phoenix, Mei gently laid her on the ground, then straightened up, steeling herself for the task ahead. She clasped her hands near her chest, closing her eyes to focus her mind. The air around her seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her command, "Spirits of the air, hear my call. From the corners of the earth, come and heed my will…" she began…

A gentle breeze stirred, circling around Mei and Phoenix, its luminescent glow shifting between green and blue, "Breath of life, breath of death. Dance with fury, dance with grace. From whispers to roars, from calm to storm…" she continued, the wind responding to her incantation. The breeze grew stronger, swirling faster and faster as it lifted dust and debris into the air, forming a vortex around them.

Mei's voice grew in intensity, matching the rising wind, "Become the gale, become the tempest. By the ancient pact, by the wind's embrace… Let’s rise and roll, Raging Tornado!" Her eyes snapped open, now glowing with the power of the spell. She raised her arms, and the swirling winds obeyed, expanding into a full-blown tornado.

The roar of the wind was deafening, a symphony of raw, untamed power. The vortex's walls solidified, creating an impenetrable barrier of wind and energy around Mei and Phoenix. Within the eye of the storm, they stood protected, the tornado was a formidable shield against any who would dare approach. However, the intensity of the spell created an isolating effect. Mei, fully immersed in maintaining the tornado, was cut off from the outside world. She couldn't see or hear what was happening beyond the raging winds. Trusting in her magic to keep them safe, she focused entirely on sustaining the spell.

Meanwhile, Han searched for the perfect vantage point to provide his support. He stood several steps away from the Gods and heroes who were already entrenched in the front line. With a swift motion, Han twirled his flute between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. He took a deep breath, then began to play.

The first notes were solitary, a haunting melody that pierced through the din of battle. Gradually, a rhythmic drumbeat joined the flute's melody. One by one, other instruments layered into the tune, creating a powerful symphony that mimicked the urgency of war drums. The tempo increased, each beat syncing with the heartbeat of every warrior on the battlefield. With each pulse of the music, the heroes felt a surge of strength coursing through their veins. Their muscles tightened, their grips on their weapons steadied, and their senses sharpened. The music amplified their power, each note enhancing their abilities and bolstering their resolve. Their next attacks would strike with a force far greater than before with each blow infused with the magic of Han’s melody.

Interactions: OldTurtle (Fel)
Mentions: Eleanor, Gods and Heroes

 

[Steve Jobs]

Freyr Stormsurge

Mentions: The Heroes, Hajun

Seeing Nergal's pummeled by King Paimon's strikes allowed Freyr some relief, but before he could rush to the Phoenix's side he saw Eleanor getting dragged away. Fresh vines launched from his gauntlets, attempting to wrap themselves around the blonde's arm.

"Eleanor don't let go!"

he shouted.

But the vines found no purchase and snapped as she plunged into the Well of Wishes.

Fucking hell.

Freyr wanted to kick himself as he watched the other heroes descend.

Not quite a healer, not quite a fighter. He told himself he functioned best as auxiliary support--someone meant for supply rather than battle. He created weapons, evacuated civilians, and rescued hostages. That was the legacy he thought he promised Kagutsuchi. He despised the midpoint he slotted himself in.

All of this time he wanted a plan, a good plan that wouldn't result in one of their own being taken. It wasn't enough that they had the numbers advantage, Freyr wanted to wait for that perfect moment to strike.

"That's your problem. You've spent so long working on those little toys, that you've forgotten what it's like to be a soldier."

They're not toys! They're weapons!

He whipped his head around, finding nothing more than Fel and Mei tending to Lady Phoenix.

---​

"Why didn't you just listen to your captain when he told you to wait for backup?"

Freyr shouted as he wrapped his wife's arm.

"Those people were going to die!" Sumire protested, grabbing the gauze from his hand. "It's not like following those little drawings in your shop."

"They are plans! And they ensure that even the most idiotic child can build these up to standard."

"Part of our job is improvising when a 'plan' goes to shit," she said retorted, cutting the bandages with her teeth, "I can't sit around 'hoping' that everyone will show up and save the day."

"What if you'd gotten yourself killed?"

"I'd rather die fighting than live to regret my actions."

"You're such a martyr,"

Freyr huffed, trying to suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

---​

But that was the fate of a hero wasn't it? Just as Arlux died fighting Tyrian, Sumire saved him from those mercenaries. There was a difference between patience and inaction--one that he thought he learned during his stint in the army. In those days he had little regard for his life. What was another battle if he had nobody to come home to?

Freyr's hands closed into a fist as he gazed at his reflection.

"No half measures,"

he whispered to himself before leaping into the vortex.

Where he expected Eleanor stood another figure entirely. Broad shoulders, round ears, and hair that spoke to their malformed presence, Freyr could only snort at whatever cursed magic caused this transformation. Hajun, Eleanor, both, neither. They were another midpoint he needed to bury for the sake of their team. He had the luxury of emotional distance (something not afforded to the other heroes); however, he could empathize. Though he'd made peace with Sumire's death many months ago, his love still burned strong; were she alive again he might have laid down his weapons for her.

"Partial Synchronization!"

The Fae-Giant's body erupted in flame, burning away whatever doubt remained in his heart. Instead, he emerged with an ashen body, molten fists, and Kagutsuchi's hammer. Though had neither the bludgeoning power of Wukong's staff nor the heat of Shiva's flames, its divinity would be more than enough for Freyr's purposes.

He ran in tandem with Bastet's warriors, only diverting once the other attacks collided with Hajun. With him distracted by the heroes' onslaught, Freyr weaved behind Hajun and slammed the hammer against the back of his head.

Regardless of the legacy he wanted for himself, he would carry on Sumire's Will and rescue those in need.

 

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA

With the other heroes going to town on Nergal, Kai and Wanga were making quick work with tending to all the wounded and diseased. Though, that didn't make the healing itself any less taxing. Just a tiny bit less stressful. Wanga's cheering and nursing were encourging and helpful in its own way despite not directly helping. Wanga always had a way with that. "Alright...I think that's the last of them." He looked over the various scholars and mages he's been tending. Bringing them all to a stable enough condition for them to retreat safely and get fully treated.

His eyes looked over the battlefield in a quick scan. Assessing the currently situation and everyone's general state. The others seemed to have broken the cage and let Phoenix and were now piling onto Nergal. That was a good sign. But soon something else caught his attention. The faint mist was starting to circle and become thicker around someone. He only caught the last half of the brutal removal of Arrian's eye but it was enough for him to almost send him into a panicked fit.

Luckily for Arrian, before he could screech his name across the field, the screams of others filled his ears. Watching as Eleanor got pulled into the Well of Wishes. Things were getting really bad really quickly again. There wasn't much time to think as the other heroes rushed into the well after Eleanor.

Kai hesideated at first. It really seemed like they were walking right into a trap by jumping into the well. But they couldn't just leave her to fend for herself! But then what about all the injured people here? Would they be fine if they all vanished into the well? Well the actual threat also went down there so what's even up here? Gahhhh! Kai was about to pull his hair out!

"We're jumping down there too, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are!" Kai huffed with an exasperated sigh as he did one last check over the injured.

"That's not what I wanted to hear." The god gave a sigh of his own. Already holding out his hand as he knew he was about to get dragged along.

"It's not what I wanted to hear either!" Kai was very not happy about this course of action, but there wasn't any other choice. Grabbing his deity's hand and dragging him with him. Following the rest of his party as they jumped into the depths of the well. Riding the twisted waterslide before eventually coming out the other side. Facing the chaos that was currently happening. With that twisted version of Eleanor being the first thing he notices.

"Kai, it stinks in here. Something's stinky." Wanga already knew what was causing this putrid smell. It was bearable on the surface but right now he couldn't barely hold himself back from gagging.

"Wanga I don't smell anything." Kai had no idea what Wanga was going on about. Was it the smell of blood and corpses? Yeah it's gross, but haven't they been around it enough to basically be nose blind to it?

"You don't get it, Kai." The god spoke with a dramatic sigh. "Nergal always had a unique way of leaving his impresson...on my nose. And now he's brought the anti-paimon with him. They're amplifiying each others stenches! And they put their smell on Ellie too!"

"What?" And Kai was done listening to whatever rant Wanga was currently on. His focus zeroed onto Arrian as he prepared to fight. After freshly losing an eye of all things the pain must be unbareable. It would be impossible for Kai to heal him in a timely manner during this battle but he needed to at least ease the pain.

"Antei saseru" He clicked his fan closed and held it to his side. The weapon glowed a faint hue as a ball of water began growing at the tip of the fan. before swinging the fan and sending the orb of water barreling towards Arrian. With a colourful veil of wind trialing behind him. The ball seeimgly pierced the man, feeling like a small shove, as the colourful veil entered his body. The most notable change he'd feel was a lack of pain or discomfort and the sudden refressness in the body. Kind of like a mix of an anesthetic and a stimulant. And after a few moments that same veil would shoot back out of Arrians body and spread to those around him. Giving those around Arrian the same feeling.

Kai liked to refer to this spell as 'false healing' it's simply making someone feel better rather than actually healing them. It wasn't his favorite method, but unlike actual healing, the effects of this spell were almost instantaous. Though not a permament fix. He glanced around for someone else who was releatively still and easy to snipe with his mock healing spell without disturbing them. The best canidate being Enthy after she casted her spell. So she got a nice smack of water against her back as well. Hopefully, having Arrian and Enthy being the host and hostess of his spell will allow for the spell to spread to the majority of the heroes he wasn't able to hit.

"Is your nose better already? You know, the more you help the faster you won't have to see either of their faces again...or smell their smells in this case." His words hung in the air like bait for the lazy god as he glanced over his shoulder at him.

Wanga narrowed his eyes before giving a pitiful sigh. He's been sighing a lot since he's been here. "I know I know. Don't worry. I may not be reliable most of the time, but I'm still quite reliable~ I'm always watching your back after all." Everything was decent enough for now. But should things start getting worse for ware he'll be trying his best to help his hero and his fellow gods defeat these nasty nasty guys.

---

Interactions: Midrick (Arrian) || Nano (Enthy)

Mentions: Probably everyone else

 

[Fluff]

Kannaka

Had I not seen the sun.

Hajun easily swiped away Rohen’s water projectiles with his bare hand, and yawned a bit. “Come now, don’t bore me with splashes of water.” Hajun complained. He shifted his stance, preparing to charge Rohen, but before he could move, golden chains dug into his arms and legs.
“Oh man, it’s been awhile since I’ve felt pain…” Hajun murmured to himself. He couldn’t linger on the thought much, because shortly after being ensnared by Enthy, powerful beams of energy were fired at him by Bastet and her minions. “Oh, I’m happy to see you too! You damn wretch!” Hajun cried. In one swift move, he tore the chains from his skin, and evaded the attacks launched at him.

When Hajun saw the great dragonbane missile, he couldn’t help but cackle out with glee. “Let the end of the world be now, Apocalypse spear!” He cried out. Black Mana coalesced into Hajun’s hand, forming into a javelin, unstable, and ready to burst at any moment. Without a second thought, Hajun hurled the spear at the missile, causing a massive explosion that was a mix of golden smoke, and black smog.

-x-

The battlefield had grown dark and chaotic within the span of moments, but this was not something Khatiy was new to. As she descended down onto the battlefield, to remain knelt with her hands clasped together, channelling her energy into the chains of her lions. Khatiy’s eyes scoured every inch of the battlefield with speed and precision, ever alert and ever observant, considering every last detail, counting the number of allies present, considering their every strength and ability, considering outcomes and courses of actions.
‘Rohen… Aaxir. Nelumba.. Tiberius? Freyr.’ The Sultan mumbled under her breath, carefully thinking as her lions descended upon Nergal. Her eyes, nevertheless, remained focused in the general direction of Hajun.

Only to glance over to her side as a new arrival had made himself known, taking to her side. “Arrian… Nzuri (Good) .. I was counting on your arrival. As you can see, this situation has become quite complicated…” Khatiy spoke to the hero of Cu Chulainn, before nodding in approval with Azaera’s analysis, and glancing back to the legendary weapon now manifesting in Arrian’s hand. ‘the Gae Bolg? He has lost an eye, will it affect his aim? No, that weapon has a special property… it is perhaps even more special than my own blade.’ She thought to herself. “Hajun presents a very real problem, but we are yet unaware of his true capabilities. Even so, as Lady Azaera has mentioned, this may be our very best window to take him out. To do so… We must not allow any interruptions from Nergal.” Khatiy explained, her bangs momentarily flickering in the air from the breakneck speed at which Aaxir, Tiberius, Freyr and Innana now descend upon Hajun in a combined four-pronged attack.

By initiating this first attack, it was only inevitable that the party came to find out the capabilities of Hajun now. First, a gloomy explosion resonated in mid air as the Demon King had dispatched Lady Bastet’s missile with ease, contaminating the battlefield with smog of darkness.

“Black Mana?!” Bastet had yelled out in worry as she had spotten Hajun begin to cast his Apocalypse spear. “ Jamani! (Not good!) Wait, Tutu Pele! Aaxir!!” The Goddess of Cats tried her best to get the party into a pause before the projectiles could connect, but Aaxir’s determination to save Eleanor was unstoppable, and Freyr and Tiberious would valiantly leap into battle with him, aided by Innana as well. The Apocalypse Spear crashed the Dragonbane missile away with an explosion of black smog, causing Bastet to be tossed backwards from the impact, back into Heka-Maat, whose ancient stone body now begins to crumble and collapse under the weight of the vortex, causing massive stones to rain down hazardously upon the battlefield.

“Subiri! (Impossible!)” Khatiy yelled, her eyes widening with astonishment. “To think that the enemy could so easily break free from Enthyskana’s chains.. What chaotic mana is this?” The Usaaman spoke her thoughts aloud. She had never witnessed someone, or something, be able to dispatch Enthyskana’s spells in such a manner, nor had she ever witnessed Bastet be forced back in such a way either.

“Now, Arrian! You and Azaera must stop Nergal before he can utilise this smog to initiate a counter-attack on our frontline attackers.” Khatiy clicked her tongue angrily. Something was missing, something she had been counting on. “You will have to do so without van der Linde– but rest assured, Dong Mei and I will support you from long range. Lord Pollux and the Azuzema Clan are engaged with Nergal at this very moment, utilise this window to wipe him out and turn the odds in our favour!”

“Enthyskana! Nakayama! What can be done about this accursed smog? It is too dangerous to conduct any further attacks while blinded!”

‘Jamani.. My hands are tied until Nergal has been dispatched. If we can buy enough time for Suzuki and van der Linde, however.. Their unique magicks may be the key to ending this battle swiftly, before Hajun is able to amass more power. Buying time is counter-intuitive, nonetheless.. Grrgh! Where are they?!’ Khatiy ruminates in her own thoughts, continuing to pour her devastating Golden-Flame magic into the chain leashes of her lions.

-x-

Kannaka’s entry into the fight in the Well wasn’t the explosive hero reveal she would have liked, but a quiet, tip-toed, velvet winged descent, cradled by night and shadowed by the moon. The girl quietly slipped into file when asked, spoke not a word and stuck to the shadows, as instructed throughout the stealth mission. And even now, twisted lips sealed shut, she launched herself quietly into battle, silent, efficient. Things had been different ever since Carmen had given her the premium mana-unsealing treatment, hug included; despite the shadows accepting her as always, there existed a quiet burning light within, a fire in her veins that smouldered willingly, eagerly. It was as though Hou Yi poured his spirit into her in earnest, and Kannaka’s clawed fingers twitched in anticipation, in an odd itch for action.

But there was a time for a blaze and there was a time for tenebrity, and where there would usually be a dull buzz of questions, there was only ruminant silence and a quite determination as Kannaka stuck fast by her friend’s side, watching Khatiy’s every move as they descended deep into the Well.

It was not a place that she entered willingly, nor were the confines of the primaeval structure welcoming to her, so it was with desperation that Kannaka skirted the edges, trying to fall in line while seeking out whichever corner the wind would continue to speak to her. She had always felt its gentle caress as lucidly as a somatic grasp upon her, but now there was a second voice whispering within her, a quiet lull in her psyche that she had thought lost when she’d watched Arlux fall. The rustles of hope, the whispers of the zephyr - they kept her company as she expertly navigated the air currents surrounding the well, but the closer they approached, the more tumultuous they seemed, as life was wont to when creeping towards a crest.

-x-

Even with the visibility being poor, Hajun was still able to grab both Aaxir and Tiberius's blades, before sucking in a large amount of air, and blasting Innana back with a powerful screech.

Despite the power Hajun held, even he was not immune to the effects of a swarm, for there was nothing he could do about Freyr's hammer hitting him in the back of the head. There was silence, but soon came the sound of loud, joyful laughter coming straight from Hajun. In a single swift action, he used Aaxir's body to knock Freyr back. "I haven't felt pain in a long time, how thrilling!" Hajun roared, turning his attention to Tiberius.
Taking out the night goddess’s hero would have helped Hajun out, but something more interesting was taking place, through the black smog, Bastets hero was issuing commands, trying to get a hold of the situation.

This would not do at all.

Hajun swiftly knocked away Tiberius, and clapped his hands together. He then began to chant, but the words that came out of his mouth were distorted, so unholy that the very colour of the surrounding area was drained. It was reminiscent of the same kind of changing Tiryan used for his abominable spells, and it was clear Hajun planned to do something on the same level, or even beyond that. Hajun pulled his hands apart, revealing a chaotic mass of energy that formed itself into a sword. One swing from this spell, would be more than enough to collapse the building the heroes were currently in.

-x-

The winds were always right; death never came grandly, loudly, victoriously, but one scream at a time. And it was her teammates’ screams that rend the winds apart, scattering them in pallid terror at how quickly it was all going wrong. Tiberius, Eleanor, Arrian. It seemed that wherever she- they all tread, seas of fire and stretches of vast wasteland was all that they left behind. The night came alive with the conflagration below, washing the Well in a light so bright as to chase away all shadows for a single, fleeting moment before the clutches of darkness descended again, and Kannaka felt Chang’e’s comforting graze upon her shoulder.

“Kannaka, be wary, you heard Paimon, Nergal is a king, a God, he cannot be vanquished by-” “By us? Not so easily? I heard him,” She heard him, and she saw him, she saw everything. And she felt, more than saw, the despair flood Eleanor’s body from the exteriors she skirted, a familiar scene that kept repeating over and over. The dark tides that threatened to swallow the party whole at every turn of the journey, the encroaching Stygian claws that twisted in their guts like a knife; the gloom that hung over the party ever since Arlux had died was a burden borne, a burden shared by all of them. Some of them blazed bright enough in return to rout the approaching tides, but others still… Kannaka felt a strange mix of pity and resentment as she grimaced at Eleanor. Some of them threatened to be drowned within. A familiar scene, a familiar ache that kept repeating over and over, encaptured within a cruel, relentless world that turned over and over, too fast, too fast for anybody to process their grief.

But hurdles were nothing new to the party, and even the Demon King who stood before them was a well-known mythological hurdle in Bharata, Devaputra-māra, the mara-struck who hindered the Buddha from achieving enlightenment. Quite ironic, really, where Hajun represented the sensuous realm that tried to waylay the enlightened one, he now took a more physical form to hinder the way of the good and the righteous once again. For they, the heroes, were the good and righteous, were they not? What else could all of this suffering lead up to then? What would it all mean at the end if they discovered the extent of their own villainy? But over and over turned the cruel, relentless world, and over and over, Kannaka had to choose to fight. The winds waited for none.

“We’re only mortal, maybe it’s true, maybe we can’t take down a God after all,” Without warning, but moving as one, Kannaka flung her Tiger Bone Bow into the air, flapping backward with a powerful sweep that scattered the putrid smog hanging heavy in the air. The bow fell - into the hands of the one it belonged to, as Hou Yi effortlessly materialised in place of the raven girl, locking eyes with her as she grinned. “But a God King can,”

But the winds clearing the area would only uncover magic so dark that it robbed the very lustre of the Well, a morose and starless night expanding outwards with Hajun as the epicentre. The girl’s ears rang, shunning the words the Demon King uttered, and she felt Hou Yi’s alarm as he nocked the bow with the resolve of a man who knew he had to slay one to save many. Death, death always surrounded the hero party, their hands marred by the blood of the guilty and innocent alike, and in this lightless, lawless land, the blood of their enemies stained the floor the exact shade as the blood of their companions. Hou Yi prided himself to be a fair man, a just man, a man who gave the worst of the demons a chance at redemption before they irredeemably sealed their fate. But things had changed now, and he did not think twice as he drew his arrow, shining bright amidst the darkness that enveloped them, for he had his apprentice behind him, his stupid pupil, his bright disciple, his escapist apprentice, his hopelessly loquacious, pugnacious daughter behind him and he would not let a finger fall upon her—!

Time stilled as the blade formed between Hajun’s hands, as though not even the Earth dared rotate in the presence of magick thus foul, halting all in its tracks to behold with bated breath what destruction it would herald, what pieces would crumble and who would be left behind to pick them up. The air crackled with power, power that was overwhelmingly against the heroes, forcing the Kinnari to one knee as she gasped for breath, finding herself inexplicably slick with sweat. The intent of the spell was not meant for her, which was perhaps the only reason she survived its presence at all, and– her thoughts halted dead in their tracks as she saw it, the shift of his eyes, the tell in his muscles, the twitch in his fingers as Hajun began, so slowly, so excruciatingly, angling himself-- towards-- Khatiy.

Please. Not her. Not again. The light drained of the area, for once, Kannaka could not see clearly. In the watery dullness, Khatiy’s long bronze hair; now grey in this lightless world, fluttered in the tepid, still air; flashing gold in the embers of a war that was not there. Strange, why couldn’t she see? Her sight blurred, rippling like the muscles in her throat - was she screaming? Was that her voice, calling out to her friend? She couldn’t tell, goddamit, why couldn’t she see? She scrunched her eyes, trying to clear the cloud that had descended upon them, and tasted the salt upon her lips.

Not like this. Not again. He couldn’t have her. She willed her body to move, but it truly felt as though she were reduced to a snail’s pace - nay, worse, a pace as slow as death, for in this breathless, ceaseless world, not even the winds whispered to her in the driving presence of the demonic creature. Arrows were quick, the quickest thing she knew, but just as she knew, in her bones, that in this relentless world, turning and repeating over and over, the divine comedy that took and took and would not stop taking from her, and hurt and hurt and would not stop hurting her, that arrows would not be quick enough.

The crack of a bowstring rang in the air, but before Hou Yi’s arrow had even released itself from his bow, Kannaka was there, claws outstretched, fists bundled in his- in Eleanor’s hair, tears streaming down her face and mouth moving in a whisper that could not catch up to her. A blink, a flash of light and a boom of sound was the only witness that the girl had moved at all as she collided into Hajun at breakneck speeds, body hissing and steaming at the brunt of her mad dash, burning within as without with a searing luminous glow. But if her body burned with the friction of the winds who could not part for her, her actions were just as cold and calculated, flickering at the same speed, fists and claws scintillating, striking at his- her neck, her sternum, her chin, aiming to do the most damage in the least amount of time. Her body screamed within, a long forgotten instinct of the Wild, clawing and begging to be away, to be free from the grasp of what was certainly death personified, but louder still was the voice that spoke softly. He can’t have her. They tumbled backwards, their descent unrestrained, unchecked, madly falling out and beyond into the depths of the Well, dizzying sights of endless corridors and twisted wonderlands flashing past faster than the eye could perceive, and the wind burned in her ears, but louder still was the voice that spoke calmly. He can’t have her. Eleanor? Hajun? It was impossible to tell who was under there, and whether Eleanor would ever return safely to them, but louder still was the voice that spoke firmly. He can’t have her. Was she willing to turn and strike at her own comrade if they were at crossroads? How far did a hero go before they became what they vowed to destroy? But louder still was the voice that bellowed. He can’t have her.

-x-

So preoccupied with Nergal and Eleanor’s disappearance was Khatiy that she had not even been able to notice the presence of the party’s prized archer descending by her side into the well. The kinnari’s flight was seamless, as if she was the very wind herself, piercing into the depth of the Well with determination unbound. Her presence was almost extrasensory, intangible, immune to even Khatiy’s nose and eyes.

It was only fitting that when Khatiy first caught glimpse of Kannaka making her unexpected yet much needed entrance, the Usaaman’s eyes shot wide with astonishment. The kind of adrenaline one would feel in knowing that something dangerous was about to happen, something one would do everything in their power to avoid if they could. But Khatiy had said it herself, her hands were bound and tied by the battle at hand.

“Kannaka!? Why have you shown yourself here?!” The Usaaman barked, feline eyes tracking the raven girl’s every movement and every flight, momentarily even losing her focus on the battle. “I told you to stay with Ilamatl (Old Lady Yi Nuo)!” The Sultan raved on, gritting her teeth and fangs angrily, grittily, her bronze features furrowing with uncertainty and unwellness. Like a battlefield general, her voice and commands rang arrogantly through the well, but such concerns were certainly of no matter to Kannaka, whose current determination to save her dearest companions was invincible.

“Do not–! – “ The boom of the kinnari’s wings swept through the Well with certainty and power, swiping away the black smogs that had just threatened the party a moment ago. Khatiy remained steadfast upon her feet, hands clasped together, as her long hair blew backwards from such gusts, her teeth only gritting harder. “Tch..” .. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed?’ The Sultan ruminated, watching, observing disapprovingly as the situation unfolded, feeling the divine presence of Hou Yi manifesting. ‘King Hou Yi? Do they mean to use the Tiger Bone Bow? Perhaps.. With that power.. We may slay Hajun before he can act…’ Again Khatiy thought to herself, continuing to manipulate the battle with Nergal from afar.

But it was at that very moment that her body felt it, the darkness beginning to emanate from Hajun, the malicious intent to kill. Her Beast Sense tingled and radiated like never before, and Khatiy at once was privy to the danger, hairs rising upon her skin like those of a cat who felt threatened. ‘Tsk.. I’m being targeted. Is that Hajun’s plan?’ The Usaaman pondered quietly yet quickly,, lowering her center of gravity and bending down into a crouch, preparing herself to leap away from any imminent danger. ‘This dark mana… What ominous power is this? It reminds me of… No.. It is so much worse… Does he mean to destroy this Sacred Well?’

A flash and a boom took the environment by storm. In the blink of an eye, everything had changed, the battle had transformed faster than even Khatiy’s eyes could keep up with. ‘Who?! What speed!’ — ‘K..Kannaka?’

For a moment, Khatiy felt frozen in time, unsure of how to even react– frozen by living memories. Flashes of mistakes of the past, calamities that she wished never to relive. “Kannaka!?” Her voice lacked the strength and arrogance it once resonated with, instead teeming with more personal emotion. To see the Kinnarri so bravely stand up for everything that she loved, facing this nightmare with such determination and unwavering bravery– Khatiy knew not how to react. Emotion was all she felt, but what kind? Thoughts and feelings that she hadn’t felt before, perhaps emotions of the past that she wished not to relive. Anger. It made her angry.

The earth beneath her crumbled, splintering into stoney chunks, crushed under the weight of Khatiy’s growing power and anger as she lowered herself further. The chains that she once held tightly between two hands now fell loudly upon the floor, unleashing the full clan of Azuzema upon Nergal as Khatiy’s own priority had changed solely to Hajun. She was not herself anymore. Ugly, beastly features now manifested over her once silky facial expression. Monstrous fangs, feline wrinkles; her aura coursed with power, leaking with unstable emotion. Once, she was there, and the next moment, she was gone, having pounced forward with brute speed and strength, leaving behind an earthly crater in her wake as she barreled through the sky of the Sanctum in pursuit of the Demon King and the brave raven. As she soared, she gazed down upon the grouping of Aaxir, Freyr, and Innana, giving them a disapproving gaze, as if disappointed.

Her lionin roar echoed rampantly throughout the chamber as she ripped forth through the sky, diving deeper into the well, chasing the pair by their scent alone, consumed by the darkness of the depths. At her sides, the great sphinxes, Nyalon and Ter Cit, dove down with her, accompanying her on this emotional free fall; as layers of Fire Mana radiate and leak from Khatiy, gritting her fangs together loudly.
‘No more… I will not let them weaken us any more! Tatag.. Eleanor.. Byali.. Why wasn’t I there to help them? I should have been there. I let them die. No more. I will stop them. For.. my friend. I won’t let them kill my friend. I won’t let them kill Kannaka!!’

And to think, that so long ago, Lady Bastet had scolded Khatiy she considered none of the party members to be her friends.. Now, only a violent roar was all that was heard as Khatiy descended deeper, in pursuit of the first one to ever truly make her realize what friendship really is.

-x-

Hajun didn’t expect for his attack to truly work. In his current state, it would take too long to form the energy needed for it to work properly. Logically, it would make more sense to use the spear of apocalypse, and do away with the champion of Bastet. But he didn’t, and the only reason why, was simply because he didn’t want the fun to end just yet. He wanted to see what the mortals were capable of, how they’d react in face of power so sinister, the very world around them shook in terror. He expected them to cower in fear, to try and hide and avoid the certain death that stood before them, he even expected some to try and counter with spells of their own.

What the third demon king didn’t expect was to have someone crash into him, and send him flying outside. It was a foolish move, so reckless that it took Hajun a few moments to realise what exactly was happening, but once he came back to his senses, the look in his face was pure joy, rather than apathy, even as Kannaka dug her claws into his body.
“You’re either suicidal, or brave to pull something like that off, either way, you’ve gained my respect, mortal!” Hajun laughed.

The demon king grabbed Kannaka, and threw her into one of the infinite pathways that surrounded the entrance of the well. He then followed Kannaka, seemingly jumping off the very air itself.
“Let's see if you can keep the pressure up, hero!” Hajun cried.
As soon as he landed, Hajun immediately punched Kannaka, and followed it up with a kick to the stomach. He was unrelenting, refusing to give Kannaka even a moment to catch her breath. If she threw an attack, he countered, dodged, or sometimes even let the desperate hero strike him, just to feel the pain.

“Tell me something, mortal, what happens, when a bird has their wings clipped?” Hajun asked. In that same moment, he slid around Kannaka, and grabbed two of her wings. In a smooth, almost effortless motion, he tore the wings out of her back, and kicked her to the floor.
“They become useless! Destined to die!” he cackled, ripping out her remaining wings.
Hajun crouched down, and smacked Kannaka’s head repeatedly. “There there, I’ll be back to finish you off, just hang tight for me!” Hajun giggled.

-x-

Kannaka braved the attack, trading blow for blow, matching him on the uneven footing he forced her upon; fighting tooth and claw for life, limb and love. She bought with a bravery and courage she wished she’d shown in that fateful war many months ago, she fought with the desperation of one who had everything to lose, one who so desperately wanted to cling to life. For every dodged attack, she threw two more, ears bleeding from the ruptured ear drums, fighting through the broken ribs and the smashed teeth from every hit taken, the feathers that littered the floor as he tore them free of her unwilling skeleton, ignoring every sign of a body failing to withstand the magick too powerful for her physical body from both within as well as out; fought back valiantly and pushed against him despite the crippling loss to life and limb. She stepped over the fallen wings - her fallen wings - upon the floor and fought him until she couldn’t feel her fists anymore.

That’s what she wished she could say.

In truth, she was rendered helpless; deafened by the burst of speed, the only thing she heard was the roar of her own blood and the mocking laughter of Hajun as she took blow after blow, rocking her body and knocking the air clean out of her cracked and bruised torso. She tried to resist, to blink out of his range with the same magical art that brought her within his grasp, but her body still reeled from the aftermath of using a technique so new and unpracticed, and her circuits burned with effort… and simply fizzled out. An attempt was made, to block his powered-up punch with her own open palm, but then-

“̵̭̟͕̊̔̉̾̾̃̏̕L̴͖̖̟͙̝̟̘̺͔̫̙͈̳̀̀̍̄̋̒̊͜͝e̶̡̧̛̩̰̠̥̦̺̤͍͖͛̍̑̃̓̏̀̌͗̈̚ͅt̷̢̲̯͎̳͈͙̜̗͖̼̙̠̓̓̄̄̿͛͂'̴̧̗͉͎̟̩̙̹̦̗̻̯̤̈́̌̏͂̃̎̉̓̚̚s̶̛͚̹̯̗̜̈́̈́̔͑̉̏̀͛͒͛́̎̕ ̸̛̬͚̮̣̼͖̗̃̀̿͛̓̓͋̃̈͆̈́͒͜ͅŝ̷̟̭͉̝̹͖̱̳̎̆ͅͅè̶̮̻̼̞̩̹͖̘̦̠̟̯͕͕e̴̛̻̺̲͕̭͈̗̭̣͒̔͆͆̇̒̐ͅ ̶̛̛̩͙̻̖͉̣͙͛̐̾̆͗͆̊̇͠i̶̻̓͗̒̔͠f̸̨̨̧̛͈͖̒̽̇̊͆̓̾̎̕͝ ̴̦͔̩̤͕̺̪͚̠̏̓̈́̔͆̒́̇́̒͘͝͝y̷̼̝̥̘̬̦͉͍̗̙̲̒o̴͍͝ư̸̺͙̘͇̙̙̱̻̜̍̾̃́̽̋̄̾̍͋̅͝ ̴͉̥͈̻̐̒̿͑͝c̵̰͎͎̠͚̀̀́̎ạ̷̡̢̲͎̭͙̤̠̰͔̳͗̓́̎͂͝͝ͅn̶̢̧̻̱̰̣͚͎͇̾̏̓̽̍͜͝ ̵̗̩͙̻͛̈́̈́̿̽̚k̴̖̩͓͛̿̈͑͌͠e̸̢̨͈͇̫̠̟͕͕̼̟̐̐̒̽̃͌͌̈́e̸̜̮̦̐̽̽̈́͐͋͛̏̕͘̚͝p̵̮̜̺̻̜̗͓̘͕̩̒̆̑̉͐̎͋́̉̃̎̅̓ ̴̨̗̖̽̋́̈́͑̉̃̓̎͛͘t̵̨̧̨̧̨̯̯̜͍̂̆̋́̐͒̾͂̇̎͌̌̇ḩ̶̘̞̙̱̿̎̄̌́͆ͅe̴̡̧̨̢͖͔̯̗̺̩̽ ̷̛̻̯̊̊̄̄͂̋̿̒͜p̸̢̛̜̦͓̟̼̬͖̫̹͐̀̒͆͊̒̆͋̃̀̊͝ͅr̶̡̨̧͕̲͓̥̐̈́̄͝ę̸̺̭̼͔̉̊̾̒̿̒̍̾͝s̴̛̠͖̭̈́̈̉̽͆̇͠s̴̡̟͖̪͈̜͙͑́̈́̆͒̐̅̕͝͝͝ư̴̧̨͉̠̯̼̝͇̦̲̹̤̙̔͗̒̈̓͌̎̐̅̆̓̕ͅr̶̢̡͚̩͙̼͕͎̗͍̜̝̻̥̊̌̑̀͐̇ȩ̵̝͎͙̫̲̭̗͓̯͕͂̀̀́͆̊͂͛͠͝ ̶̧͐u̶̢̅̽̉̓͗̀̋͒͂p̸̠̤̻̼̓̿͊̽͂͠,̴̯͋̎̎̀̓̑̂̆͆͆ ̸̢̨̢̹̫̣̘͖̪͕̙̟̽̊̀̇̋̃̍̉̕͘ͅh̴̛͎̭͒̈́̐̌̀́͂̏͑̂̚̚e̶̢̧̩̮̹̖͈̟̹̞̾̃͆̏͌͐̓̈́̈́̈́r̶̖̹̿̐̆̏̏̈́͌̈́̚o̷̩͈͙̊́̊̓́̏̚͠!̶̨̺͉̼͎̬͛̏̉̚”̶̜͖̫̠̹̝̩̏̉͑̃́̉̕̕͘

The pain searing up her arm told her she’d never pick up a bow again.

She saw, rather than felt, the bones in her arm shatter, splinter and scatter, projectile weapons in their own right, and she watched her arm snap unnaturally in a direction so askew it felt absurd to acknowledge the mangled limb as being even remotely attached to her body, let alone be a functioning extension of her living, breathing self. It looked ludicrous, dangling feebly, unresponsive to any signals her brain may be sending, and radio silent in sending any back. Time slowed, as she watched Hajun’s grasp descend upon her for the who-knows-how-many’th time upon her. There was only a dull ache radiating all over her body, and the blood welling in her mouth, and the wind roaring in her deadened ears that was any indication at all of life beating within her chest.

"̴̲̲̞̩̘͈̮̔́͒̽́͘-̵̧̧̛̻͖͎͙̻̭̩̖̱͕̃͊͛̎͗̒͘͘͜͝ͅw̴̨̢̘͔͇͚͎̎̅̈̀̈̈́̏̑̽͒̿̂̄͑̿̑̐̓͋̇͆̉́̈́̇̆̚͘̕͜͝ͅͅh̶͚̜̞͓̗̮̱̗͚͖͈̯͎̞̲̟̱͓̲̗̹̜̠͓̤̥̹̲͓͕̄̂̽̎̐̈́̆̂̿͐̈̀͂̊́̒͊̎̌̄̀̔̔̽̋̃̿͝a̴̧̜̠͙̝̹̥͉̞̥̘̩͚̝̼͉͖̻̬̠̤͑̉́̇̔̓̇̋́́̓̉͗̔̎͊̉̐̽͋̾̀̍͒͘͝t̵̙͊̅̈̀ ̴̢̨̨̨̨̜̞̘̜͈̞͍̹̺̟̠͙̖̗̰̰͚͓͕̦͖̤͎͖̬͙̱̼̠̖̱̞̭̓̈́̀̽̈́͜ͅh̸̨̨̨͉̼̖͓̲̗̖̱͈͙͙̗͈̪̲̺̰̫̟̩̩̲̊̈̃͂̽̀͜ā̷̧̡̜̜͔̪͍̼̭͓͔̖̝̦͈̲͚̙̗͎̙̰̺̟̱̘͉̭̱̭̩̭̘̗̰͕͆̒̆̄̎̓̈́͊͒̈́̇̽͑͐́̈́̆̒̽́̿͒̽͌̿̅̍͒͛̊͘̕͝͠͝͝͝p̶̢̛̛̪͇̜̦̗̖̹̦̞̘̼̬̥̳̗̍͒̈́̔̐̿̾̀̌̈̌͆̐̈́̿͗̑̽̾͗̉̚͝p̵̢̢̢̛̙͙̭̪̪͖͕̜̯̤̺̘̘͇͙͖̩͍̹̮͍͈͌̔̓̔̿͂͆̓̒̿̌̉͐́̍͋̂͒̾̔̓̽̉̂̐͒͋̑̂̈́̊͘͠͠ȩ̵̛̤͍͔̝̪͔̥̩͈̹̜̯̋̑̓̓̌͑͆̈́̓̽̎̉͌̒͋̃̾̓̆͝n̸̨̪̘͓̞̭͍̹̝̣̦̜͉̬̦̰̱̠͈͉̝̹̟̟̥͔̓̀̈́́͊͗͊̑͌͆͑̈́́̉̇̋̈́̔̋̇́͐̀̍̽̆͛́́̽̕͝͝ͅs̶̘̗͍̝̣̗̝̦̎̋̔̿͝ͅ,̵̨̨̨͖͈͈͚͍̮̤͎̠̮̣͙̜̲̯̖̤͉̬̠̙̇̐̃̋͌̈́͂̑͊͜͜ ̸̧̞̥͉͉͓̤̯͔͛́ẅ̵̨̨̛͕͉͇͍͓̙̣̥̭̩̗̤̱̩̟̭̬͎̞̖̦̟̻̙́͆͋͐̒͋̏͆̽̾͊͋͆͗̀̚̕͝͝ͅͅh̵̩͇̯͈͎̠̼͋͑̇͆̄̂͑̾̐̓̌͗͊̆̕͜͝͠ͅẽ̸̢̧̡̢̢̳̻̲̺͙̖̗̭͓̺͔̻̮̖̜̦̮͙̥̪̙͍̣̝̣̘͈̺͖̮̰͈͇̐͌́̋̔̕͜͝ͅn̷̨̨̨̡̧̡̢̨͉͙͇̰͓̬̘̩̝̟̜̦̣͕̰̼̤̝̰͔̭̪̺̙̜̩̻̗̟̜̑̎̀̍̿́͗̃̃͋̇͘͘͜ͅ ̴̡͇̳̠̥͔͎͎̥̮͈̣͓̼͉͖͙̰̦̬̌̽͛̀͛͌̂̇̌̄̎̇̽̓̇̑̇̚̚ͅą̴̡̧̢̦̺͔̥̦̹̪͈͕͍̘̬͎̝͈̰͔̜̹̠̫̩̦̙̟̜͉̘̦̫͇̾̅̋͐̒̔͛̋̈́̀̋̽̚̚͠ͅͅ ̴̛̭̦̭̣̈́͊͗́̓̀̑̓͛̏̇̈́̈̒̀̌̓͛̄̆̆̑͛̀̿̓̂̓͗̎͐̕͝b̵͍̳̣͉̳̍͛̐̇̈́̃̄̊͛̍̽̍̈͊̒͂͆̇̆̅͒̎̐̇̌͗̈̐̈́̕͘͝͠i̷̢̧̡̢̧̛̹̳̼̫͍͕͇͓̯͍̺̻̳̮̜͙̼̼̱̟͚͕̩̣̦͔̫͖̅̀͒̄͌̿̇̅̆̄̈́͛̉͌̋̂̇́͊͆̏̐̄̓͆͋̎̎̈̆̏̿̈́͗̚͘͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅŕ̷̨̧̨̛̼͇̮͍̰͈̩̣͙̫̰̰̞̩̬̭͕̜̖̙͚̞͋̿̑̏̈̔͒̚͘͜͝͠d̷̨̨̡̢̧̞̮̬̙͖͉̘̝̖̫̘̖̦̜͓͎̹̖̦̪͎̜̰̹̘͙̩̩̤̮̾̏̓͊͜͜͜͝͝ ̷̨̧͕̟͕̲͈͎̦̲͇͎̪̟̫̰̝̦̤̿̑̈̾̋̽̌͛̄́̄̏͂͛̾͂͋̈́̕͝͝͝h̶̨͙̰̰̱̼͓͍̖̞̭̫̟̰̮̤̫̻̳̪͓̮̰̣͚̉͑̔̆̋̆̄̇͒̿̓́̓͋̃́̅͋͛͌͘̚͜͝͝͝͠a̵̛͍̖̝̪̅͛̓̑͂͗͋̋̆̽̅͑͂̃͐̆̔̒͗̋͒̈́̄͌̓̀̄̉̎̅̍̕̚̕͘̕͠͝͝s̴̢̨̧̠̜̬̮̝̪̺̻̥̬͙̦̳̘͚̪̦̤͚͉̣͔̭̝̤̫͕̓̃̓̅̔̅̍̈́͊̃͑̍͑̅̓̆̈̆̓̽͋͒̓͑̈̽̆͌̄͘͘͜͝ ̷̡͓͕̫̜̼͕̘̱͈̹͕̹͚͖͔̯̀̎̈́̄̂̅́͐̃̊̈̂͘t̶̡̧̢̢̰̣̺̬̯̦̟̠͙͍̺̗̳͉̝͔̤̫̼̬̦̞̼͉̋̂̆̂͋̌̓̂̀͗́͋͋̇̌͛͛̾̓͋̀̕͜͝͝ͅh̸̢̧̜͙̲̯̝͈͙͓̲̣͇̗̠̘͕̍̊͌̈́̓̐̀̒̅̄̌͜͠ͅê̵̡̡̨̢̨̡̝̟͎͔̮̫͖̤̜͇͔̮̰̭̱̳͖̠͎̰̯͙̦͎͉̭̥̬̜̬͖̹̠͌̋̌͒́͊̓̄̎̏̔̄͆̒͆̀́̍͗ͅͅì̶̧̡̛͍̤̳̩̘̜͈̫̙͙̩̼͖̣̩͈̣̟͙̬́̈̒́̅̓̓̾̔̀̐̿͌̆̔́̆̍̈͐̓̔̍̓̒̒̌̈́̒̆̎̀̀̕̚̚͜͝͝ŗ̷̎͐̈́̿͋̆̌̀̋̾͌́̾̚̕͝ ̷̢̢̢̠͍̩͔̯͍̫̣̻͈̭̯̰̟̪͍̥̝͎̣͉̯̦̰̞̞̞͉͎̮̩̼͇̘̟̳͛̂̎̄̇́̀̚w̸̡̡̛̖̟̼͇̬̭̬̱̮̣͖̩̺̦̟͓͈͖̜̖̤̌̋̏̔̆̄͂͐̈̾̾̆́̃̓̒́͐͝į̵̮̝͚̩̗̥̝̟̱̮̠̜̝͕̣̭̦͔̮̟̙̭̳̻̪̲̝̙̻̠͚̝̥͎̤̺̤̏́͛̍͋͛͆̓̃̍͌n̴̡̢̡̡̧̘̮̞̯̰͓͎̗͖̩̜̱̦̭̻͙̱͔̪̝̗̮̖͌̏̄̉͋̇̒̅̊͒͑̓͒̃̔͐̓̾̉͠ͅĝ̴̨̛̙̺͎̻̬͕̗̟̞̝͒̆̉͑͐͋̍̈́̎͌̔̀̅̈̐̒͑̓́͘ş̴̡̢̨̛͓̼͓̳̙̝̠̟͔͔̱̞̜͉̙̻͎͙̱̫̝͎̣̮̫͎̝̬̖̰̣̞̞̱͆̓͂̀̒̆̇͑̅̈̅͋̏̌̅͐̀̀́́̐̒̓̽͒͒́̔̔̓̐̚̕͜ͅ ̵̧̛̛̗̩͛̐̇͊̄́̊̋͌͐̈́̄̓̏͒̓͌̐̌̉̽̂̉̊̆̾͒̄̈̕̚̕̕͝͝͝͝ĉ̸̢̡̛̝̺͚̖͔̠̟̪̲̦̻͈͓̤̟̮̮͈̮̻̱͙̞̫̘̺̦̖͓͎̠̜̯̈́̓͐͂̓͗͂͗̋̋́̇͒̊͌̽̓̋͋́̀͊̋̈͛͂̌͑̾̏̍̒̊̚͘̕͜͠͝͝ļ̶̢̧͙̹̱͚̺̩͙̗̭̙̼͔̟̖̞͇̙̫̳͙̥̮́͛̉̉̿̅͋͆̊̀̀́̋̓̃̈́͗̕̚͘͘̕͝ͅi̸̧̢̨̢̬̰̙͚͎̮̼̲̹̪̜̱̤̜̙̥̞̘̱͙̥̙̥̜͍͍̤̱͍̟͙̫̲͎͗̇̆͋͒͛͑͐͋̾͌̓́͛̈́͊̐͌̌̒̽̑͘ͅͅp̵̰̗͕͉̠͔̫̬͍̬̼̤̩̘̝͙̲̘͕̰̥͔̱̥͓̺̺̲̬̓̊̈́͂͐͛ͅp̶̢̡̨͙̖͉͓͍͕̝͈̪̱͈̻̯̫̘͓͍̮͉̰̺̝͎͕̥̺̗͔̣̲̭̱̽͊̅͋̅̌͑̎̈̄̈́̽̔̎͜͜͝ę̶̡̨̢̖̬̪̠̣̞̭̲̠͚̖̖͕̫͉̤̼̪͓̣̤͍̦͚̄̃͊̿͋̀͒͊͋̑̓̽̈̕̚d̷̢̳̝͙͚̲̦͕̩̫̤̗̱̬̫͇͖̼̩̽̆̾̽͆̾͑̍̈́̊͛͋̈́̚͝͠ͅ?̵̧̢͔̳̤͍̦̬̩̯̦̲̫̔͑͆̐̌̃̌̒̐̉̌̎̀̌̅̂͂̀̈́͊̚͘͜͜͝͠”̴̨̨̡̧̢̧̡̭̪̻͚͇͉̞̳̰͍̲͚̭͖͇̞̲͉̞͉̄̈́͛̉͗̈́̾̄͑̚͜͜͜͜ͅ


And then it was silent.

She fell forward as Hajun kicked her from behind, landing heavily on her stomach as her useless arms crumpled under her, folding like a paper bird as feathers rained down upon her. The horror, the dim realisation in the back of her mind as she watched, only watched, the wings, her wings, HER WINGS, held aloft in the God’s hand like a prize he had snatched, and she hoped her scream was ringing out in the air, joining all of her teammates’, but she had no way to know for sure, she had no way to hear anything over the utter and deafening silence that had descended upon her. I’m sorry, Khatiy… For the first time in her life, since she could ever remember, think or dream, the winds… the winds could not speak to her. Mei… She couldn’t sense their passage squalling down and around The Well, couldn’t feel their touch grazing over her senses, couldn’t carry her high into the sky, up and away from all the pain and all the regret and all the fighting and all the blood. There was so much blood. There was so much silence. Hou Yi…

"̴̨̨͕̭̤̘̘͚̗͈̣̥͇̥̯̠̻͎̳̰͍̲̗̼̤͔̫̞̫̬̺̰͕͉͈̈́̂͐̉̑̾͋̌̔̕͝ͅͅD̵̡̨̡̨̨̡̢̢̢̨̨͇̞͈̘̙̼͈̻̠͉̺̗̤̥̞̦͎̘̲̬̣̟̺͙͎͚͙̭͎̺̝͚̲̩̙̝̙̩̳̣͙͎͎͉͎̺̬̯͈̫̖̲͓̠̞̟̯͎̪̗͈̪̜̞̬̰̝͓̝̻̱͍̺͚̺̮͙̖̟̔̓̊͛͒͗̊͑̎̀̒̏̽̃͗͑̓͌͘̕͜͜͠͠ͅę̸̡̨̛̛̫̞̮̳͖̮͔̙̦̝̲̤̱̖͇̼͇͑͌͊͑̈́͊͌̅̾̽̈́̔̋̀͋͂̈́̆̓̀̓̑̔̽̄̇̓̆͗͐͂̊͌̉͐͐͒̒̆͆͒̿͌̀̊̇̂̀͑͑̏̅̈́̔̊͐̚͘͝͠ş̴̨̨̡̢̧̡̛̛̛̛̳̟͚͎̫͇̤̭̻͉̥̬̬̺͈̝̙̳̼̗͇̟͉̯̠̻̥͚͓̗͕̹̗̫̬̬͍̱͔̥̩̗̜͇̯̠͈̼̼̺̳̜̠̭̫̘̗͍̞̠̥̯̹͙̗̫̩̣̪̱̂̈́̄̂͐͆̾̎̍͌͋͋͂̈̄̄͗͗̓̓̆͒̅͌̓̋̅̀͌̋͑̈̏̏̋̇̔͊̉͛̒̿̒̊̃̄̒͋͊̋̈́̔̊̓̂̀͗͒͒͆̈́̃̊͆͋͆̋̆̉̈́͆̋̋̃̕̕͘̚͘̚͜͜͠͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͠ͅţ̸̡̡̨̡̧̢̛̜͎̙̜̦͓̲̯̤̠͉̦̦̫̬̻͓̻̗̝̳͔̖̤͙̲̦̻͇͇̦͓̈͌̔̄͆̀̑͆̋̎̽̈̎̂͌͂̽͘̚͜͠͠͝͝ͅī̸̧̡̧̹̜̬̦͍̦̯̖̱̩͍̪̦̜̙̝̟̤͎̣̖̙̮̝̳̙͓̹̗͖͕͖̣̙̣̺͎͈͔͌͑̓̈̈́͗̐̾̀̂̀̒̀̈́̄͒̄͒͋́̄̍̓̂͗͂̒͌͆̽͂̎̌̈́̌̌̎̾́̈́͑̀͋̽̽̀͆̉̊̀̊̀̀͗̎̈̇̒͛́̾̀́̽̊̒͐͆͘̚͘̕͘͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝n̵̨̨̡̡̧̛̛̛̛̤̱̰̘̙̼̝̤͔͍͕̝̟̖͚̜̲̩͈̻͖̮̞̯̜̭̤͈͓̯̖̯͓̮̝̭̙̩̥͇̱̳̳̔̀̏̈́̄̑̔̒͗͊̈́̔̃̃̍͑̽́̈́̔͋͐͆̇̇̀͋̿̿͆͒̽̾̀͒̉̇́̉̔͂͆̊͑̍̒̾̂̑̉̀̒̐̈̅̐̄̓͋̄̇͊͐̍͗̃͒̄͗̿̄̕̕͘̕̚͝͠͠͝ĕ̸̡̢̧̡̨̧̢̪͙̪̯̮͇̝͎͎͚̮̪̙̺̼̘̹̞͎͚͖̫̪̞̞̫͈̮̩̖͖̺̫̮̬͉̹̦͉̱̭̮̺̻̙̱̙̺̫̣̘͍͔͑̎̑̾̆́́̐͛̒̈́̌̀̋͋͋̆̉̓̽̉̑͊̾͆̔͋̍́́͂̊͆̇̕̕͘̕͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝d̸̮͓̲̲͓͖͈̜̍͛̊́̽́̃͆̍͊͝ ̴̗̯̩̯͖̼̭̘̭̣̄̂̓̄̎́̏̿̈̎́͛́̋͂̿͘͝͠͝ͅͅt̵͈͇̭̮̲͕͎͉͒̂̈́̿͆̈́̋̿͊̀̓͋̓̑̈̐̀́̄̅̃̈́́͋͛̐̽͐̔̑̈́͂̅̑̔̐̈́̉̋̄̇̓̊̄́̓̊͌͋̈̀͆̽̉̊́͑̽̌̑̄̓̏́́̇̋̿͒̆͛͂̕̕̚͘̚͘͘͘͘͝͠͠͠͝͝͠ợ̵̖̪͖̥͚̯̱̽̃̇̏̓̎̑́̇̑̽̈́̀͋͑̍̎̓́̂̒̅̏̌̒̉̀̐͆͗̐̋͛̍́́̏̿̽̋̆̿͋̈́̊̇͛̓̈́̋͋̉̈́̇͛͋́̋̌́͂̍͒̐̄̀̅͒̑͗͋̌͌̀̄̚̚̚̕̕̕͘̕̚͝͝͝͝͠ ̶̧̢̧̢̢̨̢̡̡̛̛̙͍̳̱̻̱̭̣̟̻̻̣̣̩̲̮̻͕̩̞͈͎͕̱̼̭͖̗̭͖͍̦̬̺̪̭̼̯͖͇͖̪̳̈́̍͒̍́̑͂̎̍͆̆̔́́̂͑̑̑̒̀̓̎̔͗̀̑͗͛͌̀̉̔͑̑̾̊͋̉̏͌̈́́͛̏̉̊͋͊̇͑̇̆̊̉́̌́͊͐̔͋͆̑͂̿̽͂̈́͋̆̎̈́̒̔̇̒̂̔͐̕̚͘̕̚̚͠͠ͅd̷̨̨̨̡̨̡̡̧̡̛̛̛̰̮̥̥͕͔͕̙̝̻̼͎͚͙̫͈̘̫̼̩̦̫̻̹̬͉͈̹͙̱̬̥͍̜̹̤̩̺̖̀̾̇̓͆̍̂̓̎̽̾͆̾̓̑͌̑͒̂͛̄̈́̑̓͗̊̊́̄́̂̌̍̄̌̋̔̿̃̈́̈̀̆̈́̽̈̈́̀̈́͑̃́̈́͐̀̓͌̌̇̇̾̾̆̋̿̒̏̆͂̍̆̐̈́̀̍̅̕͘̚̚̕͝͝͠͝͠ͅỉ̸̢̨̡̨̧̡̢͕̖̱͈͙̗̯͎̖̰̣͎̬̠̪̠̺̟̫̯̙̜̭̪̬̻̺̯̝̻̬͕̙̘̟̙͙͖̝͈̜̤̼̘̰̩̣̟̭͔͍͔̜͉̭͈̲͎̞̙͓͉͙͍̱͓͍͖̬̬̮̲͕̖̝̯͖̗͚̥͎̆̆͆͂̍̆̎̂̈́͑̌͊́͒̆͂̋͊͂̄̋́̈́̓́̌̋͑̇̿̍̉͑̇̑̓̓̇̽̓͌̌̾͊̑̒̅͗̿͆̿͘̚̕͜͜͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅę̵̧̢̨̡̡̨̧̛̛̫̗̼͎̬̝̦͈͕͇͇͈͉͉̗͓̭͔̩̟̭͖̙̣̞͉̲͍̞͎͕̟̗͇̞̮͚̱̼̭̠̼̥̞͖̻̜̪̘͙̞̺̹̘̜̰̝̝̘̗̣͓̘͚̜͚͚̤̾̿̈́̐̔͆̓̉̃̂̊͑̐̾͑͗͌̐̃̾̐̈̿̽̈́̈́͒́͛̾̓͑̽͛̂̇̌̑̇́̓͑̏͌̓͊̂́̔̌̔́̆̆̀̏̔̽́͒͆̇͐͛̔̋̊̍͆͂̀̽̇̇̂̾͑̓̕̕̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅ!̵̜͕̥̮̦̯͈̲̠̼̖̺̭̰̪̣͔͎͇͉̳̯̰̘̙̋̓́̒̀͗̀́͛̀̌͋́̈́̄̓̆̐͌͑̑́́́̌̿͊̎̏̑͒̒̌̄̾͑́̿͐̓̋͘͝ͅͅͅͅ”̴̡̨̼̬̘̦̣͇̳͍͕̟͖̯͍̙̰̙̫͌̈́̃̎͐͑̅̀̓͑̊̒̋̈́̑̒͗̒́́̐̿̃́̈́̓̆̾͂͑͑̔̍̇̑͂͆͆̀̆͒͒̃̐̿͋͑̂̆̾́͊̐͐͂̾̃͌̎̕̕̕͘͜͝͝͝

…
..
.​

I failed.

And Kannaka silently closed her eyes and died.

-x-

.
..
…​

“Kannaka!”

Her eyes snapped open, jolting awake to a familiar scene, and her heart ached.

Her sister stood over her, grinning ear to ear as she poked her awake, and as Kannaka groggily sat up, she turned and flitted away on her speckled black and white wings, still laughing from the humor of it all. Her stomach felt sick to the pits as she got up, dusting herself off and took to the skies after her, joining the rest of her adult siblings on the roof they always frequented back home, greeting her eldest brother with a slap to the back. They ate mangoes and laughed and joked all day until night fell, and the youngest ones began trickling away back home, one by one by one, until only she and her eldest sister remained. In the idle conversation that ensued over them collecting the discarded peels and pits of the fruits they devoured, Kannaka found it in herself to ask, “Di, do you… uh, know what jamais vu means?” And her sister laughed, running a fond hand over her hair and down her jet black wings, gave her tail feather the usual affectionate tug and asked, “Where did you hear that word, Kanni?” And she had no answer.

Daylight greeted her with one of the most beautiful mornings she had ever seen. The winds lifted her gently into the sky, alongside the birds who sang as though it were the only day of summer in all their lives, and the sky lightened to a mellow glow, dimly amber in the blossoming dawn. She ran through the familiar streets, flew to the orchards she knew and loved. The food was good as always for the eating, the sun was warm as always on her skin, and the wind whispered sweet nothings in her ear, as always. Her friends were many, and her enemies, none. Her sister announced her recent acceptance into her dream college. Her brother brought home a wonderful gift of an instrument, and played for the family while her younger sister sang. It was as it always had been.

She flew home to her mother’s welcoming arms, she knelt once again to touch her guru’s feet, she met a familiar face with a head full of familiar golden hair again in the streets, and they sat in the trees and laughed and cried over a basket of apples again. I missed you. Saying this only made her miss her more. How many days, how many struggles passed before she could meet her again? How many flakes of her longing fell like snow before the days of spring returned?

And she wanted to say, please stay. Until the flowers bloom again, until the spring day comes again, please stay a little longer.

Is it you who changed? ⸮bɘϱnɒʜɔ oʜw υoγ Ɉi ƨI​

There was no war. Kannaka landed another clean punch on her opponent, knocking him down and out for the win, and for the millionth time, in the most familiar way, and yet something was horribly wrong, her hand was raised to the cheer of the crowd, who chanted her name over and over. “Kannaka! Kannaka! Kannaka!”
The cries blended with the sound of her mother calling her home for dinner, “Kannaka!” the angry yell of her brother when she combed his hair too hard, “Ow, Kannaka!” the sound of Arlux calling from down the street, “Kannaka!”

Or is it me? ⸮ɘm Ɉi ƨi ɿO​

“You left me,” Kannaka whined once to Arlux, as they sat watching the starry night together, peeling apples to make rabbits, and Arlux laughed. “Do you hate me for it?” A familiar smile, a tilt of her head, and Kannaka couldn’t meet that gaze, staring instead at Arlux’s rabbit on the plate. Yes, I hate you. I hate even this moment that is passing by. You left me, but I never stopped thinking about you, not even for a day. How long do I have to wait? How many nights do I have to pass, how many apples do I have to peel to see you again?

But this pitiful destiny- with a halt in my heart and a halt in my step- all I wanted to do was make you smile.

“What should I do now? Please, tell me, give me a remedy.”

“ɘɔnɒʜɔ ɿɘʜɈonɒ ɘm ɘviϱ ,ɘm ɘvɒƨ ,ɘƨɒɘlԳ”​

She exhaled a long, slow breath, putting down her apple on the empty plate. I try to take out my anger, but the only one in here with me is me. I miss you, but I will erase you, because it hurts less than to blame you…

-

“Jamais vu?”

She stood whispering with her guru as she watched the heroes pass by town, unfamiliar faces, unfamiliar voices, and frowned at the cat-like hero who looked at her just a little too long. She hated cats. Dour elves, round faced women, small and unassuming silhouettes in plain garbs, was this the ensemble the people revered? Brushing aside her niggling doubts, she turned back to her guru, “Yes, do you know what it means?” But her guru wasn’t listening, he was busy looking at a nearby hero up and down, nudging Kannaka. “He is looking at you. Do you know him?” Making a face, she turned to glance at the man, a tall, well-built warrior in simple clothes and long hair, with a bow slung over his shoulder and a quiver adorning his back. She shook her head even as their eyes locked, “No, I don't know him. Focus, guruji, I’m asking you a question…” And the heroes turned and left.

Everyone is leaving, why am I the only one here?

Where did that thought come from? Why did she feel anxious as time passed? Wasn’t this how it was meant to be? Why did she feel like she was all by herself? Like she was breaking a promise? Why did she feel like she was falling?

In the whispering wind so light,
Lay your head down tonight,
Underneath the starry sky,
Close your eyes and softly sigh.

She wished these feelings disappeared when she was alone. Like a mirage, like a snowflake drifting in the wind, she wished they disappeared, she hoped they disappeared, this impatience, this feeling of being on her own. She wished she didn’t feel like she was abandoned like this in the world, as though she were drifting further and further away from the sky. She wished she could disappear. She wished she didn’t feel like this.

Like she was falling.

-x-

“Ugh…” Mei’s hands trembled with exhaustion, her strength waning as she sustained the tornado. Five minutes… ten minutes… perhaps even longer had passed.

“Maybe I can rest for a bit…” she murmured, lowering her hands and breaking her focus. The tornado, once fiercely obedient to her will, gradually lost its strength until it finally dissipated, vanishing as its master’s control slipped away. As her vision cleared, Mei took in the intense yet mesmerizing scene of the battle before her. The clash of weapons, the roar and scream, and the disgusting taunts of the villains, all interweaving with Han’s battle hymn. In just a second, Mei was able to summon all the hatred with her, directing it towards Hajun and Nergal with burning intensity.

Mei then cast a quick glance at Phoenix, who lay weakly behind her, appearing as if in a deep, much-needed slumber. Phoenix had endured hell and deserved this moment of heavenly rest. With Hajun and Nergal preoccupied with the Gods and heroes, they wouldn’t have the time or opportunity to reclaim Phoenix, they likely didn’t even realize she was there. But Mei didn’t dare to leave her side. She had been entrusted with one task.. to protect Phoenix, to stay with her, and she would hold to that responsibility fiercely.

Walking back to sit beside Phoenix, Mei remained alert while slowly regenerating her mana from the swirling wind around her. She was confident she could fulfill her duty, but her resolve wavered when something caught her chocolate eyes. Amidst the heart-wrenching chaos of battle, a shadowy figure darted towards Hajun at full speed with a loud boom. It was someone with guts stronger than steel, someone who likely no longer cared about the call of death, someone who Mei lovingly called Kanni. Mei’s heart seemed to pause for a second as she recognized Kannaka rushing towards Hajun, pushing both of them out of sight, obscuring the next sequence of attacks. She instinctively leaned forwards, lifting her body as if to stand and run towards them, her protective instincts and concern for Kannaka overriding all else.

“Kannaka…” her heart whispered the name of her dear friend. Mei glanced again at Phoenix, then at the shattered window, her gaze shifting back and forth as she grappled with the choice of staying or going. Frustration gnawed at her, her mind urged her to stay, to trust in Kannaka and their companions to handle the situation. Her heart, however, tugged her towards Kannaka. What if something happened to Kannaka? Could she forgive herself? Could she live with the guilt?

Biting her lips hard, Mei stood up. Her feet trembled with fear, but her heart quivered with determination. The first step was the hardest, but with each successive step, her body grew lighter… and lighter… and lighter… until her hesitant steps turned into a determined run. They could blame her all they wanted for leaving Phoenix. They could strip her of her hero badge, take her powers away, do whatever they wished, but they couldn’t stop her from saving Kannaka.

Mei leaped and ducked, dodging attacks from the battle with Nergal. She didn’t stop to see what was happening, all she knew was that they were all fighting Nergal together, but Kannaka… Kannaka… she was alone, she was all by herself. Mei might not be the best help Kannaka needed, but she just wanted to be there. Han’s voice called her name as she ran past him, but she didn’t slow down. Desperation and frustration fueled her need to reach Kannaka quickly. Her surroundings blurred as she sprinted, her focus solely on Kannaka. Each breath was her prayer and each stride was her symbol to her unwavering will. She would not lose Kannaka. Not today… not in her lifetime…

Then she was finally there…

“Kanni…?” her voice trembled as the body of Kannaka filled her vision, barely recognizable with her figure marred by wounds and blood. The beautiful jade-black wings that once adorned her were gone, the proud mark of the mighty Kinari vanished.

“Kanni…” she whispered again, her voice catching in her throat, barely audible. Slowly, she walked closer.

“...Kanni…” each step closer to Kannaka caused a crack in the dam of her tears. When she was just an inch away from her best friend, Mei crouched down, letting herself get closer to Kannaka. The sharp smell of iron from the blood didn’t bother her as she gently took Kannaka’s broken body and carefully turned her over to see her better.

“No… no… no…” The sight of Kannaka, her body battered and broken, was almost too much to bear. Mei’s heart ached as she cradled her friend and put her on her lap. Her tears finally spilled over, mingling with the blood on Kannaka’s face. She felt a surge of anger, grief, and helplessness.

Mei caressed Kannaka’s face, her fingers tracing the familiar lines of her friend’s features, “Kanni… wake up… please…” she pleaded. Her fingers stopped at Kannaka’s nose as she tried to feel her breath… but there was none.

Why isn’t it there?
Mei’s mind raced in disbelief.

Why isn’t Kannaka breathing? She has to breathe, right? Right?

“Kanni… open your eyes… come back… please…” Mei called out to the friend once more, but nothing came from Kannaka. She remained still, unmoving, unbreathing. The drop of her tears began to cleanse the blood and dirt from Kannaka’s face, revealing the familiar features of the Kinari. It was the face that lit up every time Mei saw her, the same face that would also easily turn sour. The face that laughed and cried with Mei, the face that shared the joy and sorrow with Mei. The face Mei wished to see every time they came back from the battlefield.

Mei thought she would fly into a rage, causing havoc, or perhaps rushing to Hajun with demonic fury. But no… she didn’t… she remained where she was, savoring the silence that seemed to drown out the sounds of the war around her, letting herself get lost in the ticking seconds.

It was too late…

With gentle motion, she carefully brushed back the strands of Kannaka’s hair, trying to memorize every detail, every expression. Her sorrow felt endless and in her grief, she began to sing… a lullaby her father had always sung to her, a lullaby her mother had sung when she was still in the womb, cradled in warmth and love. Mei hoped the song might somehow reach Kannaka, bringing her a semblance of peace… and if it could… bringing her back to Mei.

In the whispering wind so light,
Lay your head down tonight,
Underneath the starry sky,
Close your eyes and softly sigh.

A fading green hue began to form around Mei and Kannaka, encircling them in a radiant embrace. The hue gradually transformed into ancient alphabets, as old as the sky and sea, glowing vibrantly in shades of green before shifting to a soft, shiny white then back to the calm green. The alphabets stretched inward, creating intricate lines from the outer circle to the center, where they settled. The luminous symbols pulsed gently, casting a serene light over the two friends.

Let the wind carry you away,
To a place where dreams gently sway,
Where love’s embrace is warm and deep,
And the night sings you softly to sleep.

As the ancient alphabets continued to form lines connecting the outer circle to the center, a warm, soothing energy enveloped Kannaka’s body. The wind began to flow around Mei and Kannaka, gentle and harmonious. It swept in a comforting breeze that was both cold and warm, like a tender embrace from a mother’s love. The ancient alphabets beneath them then started to stir to life. Each character floated and carried by the currents, dancing in the air like delicate leaves.

Sleep now, sweet child, in the gentle breeze,
Dream of places where hearts find peace,
Wrapped in the arms of the stars above,
Sleep now, my love, in the wings of love…

Suddenly the alphabets started to converge around Kannaka, weaving themselves into a cocoon of vibrant green energy. The green energy pulsed with life, glowing brighter and brighter until it flashed into a blind light. Mei instinctively shielded her eyes with her hand. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light subsided. Mei cautiously opened her eyes, the wind had already stopped and the cocoon was gone. Hesitantly, she called again, “Kanni…?”

-x-


In the whispering wind so light,
Run, run again, stumble and fly,
Underneath the starry sky,
Fall away and softly sigh.

This familiar pain that seized her again. It wasn’t easy this time, either. The curtain fell, and she was out of breath, wondering if she made any mistakes today, wondering how the audience felt about it all. The press of money into her hands, and slowly the lights began clicking off, one by one, as she remained in the empty ring, holding on to an aftertaste that would not linger for long. This wasn’t the first time, she better get used to it. The thundering applause, she couldn’t own it forever. But todays her, she wanted it for eternity. She wished this could last forever. She wished she could be young and free forever.

“You made a promise.”

She whipped around, startled by the sudden appearance of the hero she’d seen days ago, the man with the bow and arrows. Her face twisted in a sour snarl, and turning her back on him, she began collecting her belongings. “You chain yourself in a sandcastle,” She took a swig of water and unfurled her wings, getting ready to fly home. “And you wonder why you don’t dream at night.”

With a frustrated growl, Kannaka paused, and then whirled on her heel, stomping closer to him. “Who even are you? Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?” The man raised his eyebrows, but there was no amusement in his words. “I am no stranger. I am someone you made a promise to. I know you.” Snorting, the girl shrugged a shoulder, “Alright, buddy, what do you know about me?”

He waited for a long moment to speak. “I know you wish these feelings disappeared when you sit alone. This impatience, this feeling of being on your own. I know you feel abandoned, I know you don’t hear the sky anymore. I know you wish you could disappear. I know you feel like you’re falling. I know you’re lost.”

She stared at him, mouth open, caught off-guard. “What the hell? Who are you?” The man stepped closer. “I am someone you made a promise to. I gave you a dream.”

Her ears rang deafeningly and her stomach lurched. She felt so far away. She felt intoxicated. Her head swam, but it felt like a luxury; she felt as though she couldn’t stand it sober. She felt as though something had been taken from her. She felt as though she knew this man.

She wanted this to end.

“Dream, Kannaka.”

“Dream, and we’ll be there to see what you create out of life, all the way until the end of the line,” She stumbled back, staring at a sharp faced elf, a man with his arms crossed and voice stony, but soft eyes and gentle words as he gazed at her.

Sleep now, sweet child, in the gentle breeze,

“Dream, and wherever you are, we will welcome you,” And now it was a soft-featured girl, a woman with a sweet voice and a gentle, familiar touch. She did not know this woman, but her heart settled at the sound of her voice, and her hands reached out on her own. She did not draw away, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. Was the room getting brighter?

Dream of places where hearts find peace,

“Dream, and your trials will end in full bloom,” Kannaka started, staring at the face of an imposing woman, adorned with cat ears and weighed down by ornaments of gold. She hated cats- but she knew this woman. The name eluded her, but she could have sworn she had met her before, once, in a sea of blood. “Wasn’t… strong enough…” She murmured, taking a step away from her.

Wrapped in the arms of the stars above,

“Dream, though your beginnings are humble, your end will be prosperous,” Arlux smiled at her, and Kannaka felt her throat close up. “Run, and fly again, and stumble again. Your remedy is my remedy,” feel your heart beat again and don’t give up, and with a quivering voice, Kannaka replied, “I promised you…” The light continued to grow, forcing her to flinch away from the intensity of it.

Sleep now, my love, in the wings of love…

“Dream, for so prosperous will your future be that your beginnings will seem humble,” Hou Yi stepped forward, warm hand on her shoulder. “Do you know what jamais vu is?” And Kannaka shook her head, “No, I’ve never heard of it.”

She heard Hou Yi laugh, and she felt the dazzling luminance sear her eyes as she felt him clutch at both her shoulders. “But it’s time to wake up. You made a promise!” And she felt it, this familiar pain that seized her again. It wasn’t easy this time, either. The curtain fell, and she was out of breath, and she could feel that the tears on her cheek were not her own.

Feel your heart beat again, and don’t give up!

-

“Kanni…?” God, she was in so much pain. Her vision was hazy, her hearing was clouded and it was so, so silent. All she could see was a familiar, round face, sweet like a bun and–!

“YOU!” Kannaka roared, propelling herself forward and pulling forward her good arm (so close, so close!) to squarely strike Hajun in the chin, inches away from the two heroes on the floor (he’d been sneaking up, that rat!). She felt a satisfying crack of bone against bone, and her knuckles split from the blow, a blow that should have felled a being of mortal descent, but this was no mortal (Not again, not Mei). But even Gods could be made to bleed, and she could see him gurgle up a mouthful of foam and phlegm as he was sent skyrocketing away, chin and fist still sizzling from the impact of the blow. She let out a low, hissing exhale of her own, feeling her body billow in steam in the cold Isles night; and in the deafening silence she heard only the thunderous roar of her own heartbeat.

“You broke the wrong parts of me, motherfucker,” She spat out a mouthful of blood and staggered backward, feeling the adrenaline drain from her body. “You took my wings and forgot I had claws,” But though her words were laced with venom and fighting spirit, the body was unwilling, and she collapsed back on to her knees, leaning heavily on Mei, who had already begun tearing up. “Mei…?” She weakly managed, feeling a grin creep onto her face, a joyful, toothy grin to find her friends’ face above hers, her gentle presence tempering the flames within.

Her trembling hands released her friends' shoulders and moved to slowly, carefully wipe away the tears streaming down her round face, leaving smudged streaks of red across the delicate, doll-like girls cheeks. Her heart settled; though she could not hear her voice, she knew, she knew; and clearly so did her body, as it eased into a comfortable rhythm, a slow gentle beat, whispering to itself as Mei reached out too towards Kannaka. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, little Mei, little Mei, little Mei.

Like a spring flower of hope, she felt her touch wash over her face and she leaned into the soft palm, holding it close in her own bloodied, mangled hand. She felt tears run down her own face, though she knew not for what, and crumpled backwards again as Mei enveloped her in a huge, bawling hug; she held her friend tight, feeling her body rock with every sob. “Hi. I’m back,” And she wished this could last forever. She wished she could be young and free forever.

-x-

When Han saw Mei sprint past him, he was momentarily stunned, particularly because of the direction she was heading. He saw Kannaka bring Hajun outside and Mei was on a direct path to follow them. Han called out her name, but Mei seemed lost in her own world, oblivious to his call. His hand reached out, but it was a heartbeat too late to stop Mei.

Without hesitation, Han dropped whatever he was doing and followed Mei outside. Mei was too fast… even faster than she should be, that Han barely caught up with her. One moment later, he found her suddenly stopped. He wanted to run and reached out to her, but the sight that met his eyes made him pull back. It wasn’t clear, but he could understand what had happened. Words failed him and he stood there, unable to do anything to ease the pain. Poor children…

Instead of intruding on Mei’s moment with Kannaka, Han redirected his focus to Hajun, who had committed the evil deed. With a voice fueled by fury, he shouted, “HAJUUUUUNNNNNN!!!” Veins bulged on his skin as rage surged through him. He clutched his flute so tightly it nearly snapped. Determined to shield Mei and Kannaka from further harm, his fingers flew over the tone holes, each note resonating with his wrath. Behind him, a tempest began to form, a powerful one that rushed toward Hajun. Though Han wasn’t close enough to confront Hajun directly, the gust should be able to slow his advance towards Mei and Kannaka. He wished someone would come to help with the situation. A deafening roar soon split the air, announcing the arrival of Lady Bastet’s hero, Khatiy, accompanied by her majestic sphinxes. Intimidating and elegant as always. Then another figure appeared… a familiar face, a long-lost friend. Han paused his playing briefly to smile, “Been a while.”

With the two Gods and Khatiy, they had the numbers to overwhelm Hajun. Han nodded as a signal and dashed toward Hajun, flute still at his lips. As he ran, he witnessed an unfamiliar magical spell enveloping Mei and Kannaka. It was unlike anything he’d seen before, certainly not something Mei had learned. The wind sang and danced around them until a blinding light flashed, halting everyone in their tracks.

Han closed his eyes against the brilliance. When he reopened them, he saw Kannaka, the Kinari, standing once again and delivering a powerful punch to Hajun. Seeing an opening, Han looked at Hou Yi and nodded, “Let’s do it like old times, Yi.”

Hou Yi’s practiced fingers nocked an arrow to the string while Han readied himself with his flute. As the arrow was released, Han quickly played a guiding tune. A whirlwind began to form around the arrow, a spiraling vortex of wind and energy that tore through the sky with a fierce howl. The arrow itself glowed with a bright green energy, the vibrant hue pulsing and shifting as it traveled. It seemed to vibrate with power, leaving a shimmering silver trail in its wake. The powerful gust that followed added a relentless speed and force to its trajectory, while the air itself propelled the arrow forward with unstoppable momentum. The ground below quivered under the intensity of the combined energies hurtling toward its target with the fury of a storm.

-

Hou Yi felt as though he could breathe again. He didn’t know what Han Xiangzi’s hero had just done, or what Xiangzi himself had managed, but the tenuous link between himself and his hero wavered, then strengthened, slowly stabilizing until she moved, in a flash of green light and the resounding crack of landing a blow on Hajun. Despite being a God, he prayed a thanks to every deity he knew, feeling the relief wash over him in floods. It was certainly through the power of the little human girl that he had been able to get through to Kannaka, and he made certain to catch up with his old friend after all of this settled, and have a little chat with his hero.

There would be time enough for pleasantries. Now was the time to fight; they had two rogue Gods to deal with, and one of them had drawn his particular ire. Hou Yi drew his bow, smiling as he heard his friend’s words. “Just like old times, Xiang,” as he felt his companion’s familiar power wash over them in a tidal hurricane. The unabated power of the baying winds whipped up a strange, sonorous, haunting rhythm, a full, faraway roar of the gulf gales slowly rising to a crescendo. The air darkened to charcoal and Yi took a deep, steady breath, relishing the taste of ozone in the air as Xiangzi continued his divine melody. “Not bad, my friend. Still as spry as ever,” He whispered, knowing the winds bent to his will and would carry every word to him as he drew his arrow, eyes locked on target - the freefalling form of Hajun as he reeled from the blow of his hero.

The squall around him rose to wreath his weapon, encompassing him in a gentle breeze while the tempest raged outwards, and he focused on channeling his own strength, feeling his body blaze with power and a dull, vindictive hunger. There was no hesitation, no reconsideration; the God King simply drew back his bowstring, aimed, and fired.

The arrow roared as it streaked through the ether, whistling in the night with a crackling whisper. The air convulsed and fractured around it, a shockwave rippling outward with their combined power unleashed, and the ground beneath trembled as though it bore the brunt of the titan assault. Bolstered by his companion’s strength, it flashed past with unparalleled speed, seeking out their quarry like a hound at hunt. The winds whipped in a frenzied staccato all round the searing projectile, and the howling cyclone heightened to a supertornado as it approached Hajun with unfailing accuracy.

 

[Nessi]

The Night Parade of 100 Demons

Plague

The only people who had ever given Hajun trouble, were the very gods themselves, and even they struggled to contain this one deity. They fought tooth and nail with him, and many gods lost their lives in order to stop his rampage. Even with their combined power, the gods failed at putting a permanent end to him.
To have someone knock him unconscious, a MORTAL no less, to some it would be embarrassing, especially to a god.

But Hajun was no god, he was a demon.

Hou Yi’s arrow sailed through the air like lightning, and struck Hajun directly in the head, a fatal shot for even gods. For a few moments, Hajun was completely still, and a sense of false hope built up in the heroes.
But nothing was ever easy for them, and this would be no different.
Black mana radiated from Hajun as he rose from the ground, his body once more transforming even more. Whatever feminine features from Eleanor that was left faded, as his body became more masculine and demonic, than what it originally was.
“Yes…hate me, make me your mortal enemy. Let out cries of rage as you try to strike me down.” Hajun giggled, ripping the arrow out of his head. “Your hatred, will be my fuel, and will make my transformation of this vessel glorious.” he announced, holding his eyes wide as if he was a demonic messiah, revived to destroy humanity itself.
Hajun turned, and opened a portal, reaching his arm into it to retrieve something. What he got was a weapon that could only be comparable to the weapon Polux carried around. An iron mace forged from black metal, and oozing an unfamiliar, but almost fire like energy.
Now armed with a weapon, Hajun tore his shirt off, and lifted the large mace off the ground. “Get up, face me. Fight until your bones shatter, until all you can do is crawl. Show me what the resolve of a hero means!”

~~~​

“I hope you do not believe that just without phoenix, I will be easily felled.” Nergal stated. The Plague god quickly leapt up, and climbed up to avoid the sea of flames coming his way. Grabbing onto a ledge, he dangled, assessing the situation and the people fighting him.
Azaera, Arrian, Shiva, Kai, Wanga, Paimon; All a threat to Nergal in one way or another, but not one he couldn’t overcome. Despite knowing this, Nergal desperately wished to be at Hajun’s side once more, to protect him from the disgusting mortals who would dare lay a hand upon him, but he knew better than to let his wishes get the best of him. Hajun, even in his severely weakened state, could handle himself amongst a couple mortals.

Right now, Nergal had to deal with what was before him, thin the herd until the 3rd demon king was ready to fight.

Nergal opened his mouth, and with his free hand, shoved his fingers down his throat. Quickly, the plague god began to regurgitate, retching until a large, black blob fell from his mouth, and splattered onto the ground. Quickly, it began to shape itself, growing limbs, a head, and even a blade. In the blink of an eye, a beast stood before the heroes, armed with nothing but a sword, and razor sharp teeth.

Nergal landed on the ground next to his new beast, and raised both his weapons to the sky.
“Come, face me and meet your end."

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions:
Mentions: Nessi

"She can't hear me," Aaxir said in frustration as he spat out blood. How deep into the depths of darkness had she descended? Was she watching, simply unable to throw her voice beyond the sea of darkness engulfing her soul, or was she locked away from the outside world? Hajun was struck, but he only provided a glimmer of hope before snatching even that away. It was as if he was determined to leave the heroes with nothing but death and despair. Once again he transformed, further deteriorating any traces of Eleanor that were left while spouting an array of things that Aaxir summed up as drivel. He spat out some blood before getting up.

"I don't care what you do, just stay out my way dwarf," Aaxir said with a growl while ironically helping the dwarven warrior to his feet. In truth he was just frustrated by how easily he was thrown to the side while Hajun dealt with the others. Their opponents were growing stronger with each passing day, but he could not afford to lick his wounds. With eaqch passing second Eleanor was falling deeper into Hajun's control. Aaxir could feel his rage building up as Hajun did what he pleased with that which did not belong to him. Parading his newfound existence at Eleanor's expense.

"Aaxir"

"I know," Aaxir said with a growl, actually expelling green flames before gritting his teeth. If he didn't play his cards right then Eleanor would be lost forever. Hajun was going stronger each second. Aaxir took a brief moment to observe those still fighting with him before formulating a plan of attack. "Pele...let's do that....but don't do the-"

"AHEM, O' my brave hero blessed to be contracted to the most benevolent, beautiful, bountiful, goddess of the entire pantheon."

"....Speech."

"I, Tutu Pele, grant thee but a fraction of this terrifying power to vanquish all would dare oppose thine will. The power to destroy! The power to bring forth life upon scorched earth-"

"This is why I hate doing this....."

"LET them weep endlessly in hell and regret the trangressions inflicted upon me! Let there be witnesses of this grand erasure! Aaxir....burn everything...Divine-"

"Synchronization!(that was actually shorter than last time)"

At the end of Pele's speech a great wave of energy burst forth as an eruption seemingly consumed Aaxir. Pretty soon, Aaxir would step out of the flames revealing obsidian scaled armor, eyes that sparked crimson, and blood red hair that flowed from his helmet to his back. The ground beneath his feet seemingly succumbed to the heat starting to radiate from Aaxir though he tried to keep it under control. After all, he did not like utilizing this form very often. "Hajun, you talk a lot for someone whose already died once," Aaxir said, his voice a combination of his own and his patron god. Aaxir raised his hand and immedietly a cloud of ash encompassed an portion of the area around Hajun, swirling ominously before destructive bolts of lightning rained down throughout the area; however, Aaxir would not give Hajun the time to think of an escape. The sword did little to help him, so Aaxir would show Hajun what a true exchange looked like. Aaxir assumed the fighting stance of the Kapu Kuʻialua fighting style and bolted toward the enemy in a zigging pattern before attacking Hajun with a flurry of striked designed to brutalize and break bones though he was not arrogant enough to believe this would be enough to incapacitate him. Each thunder clap seemingly revealed another step in this dance as Aaxir wore his rage well to hide what was lurking beneath the shadows.

 

[Nano]

end of a life

Enthyskana Rhoda

A somber lullabye guided her through the dim lighting of the well and her mindscape. It was a familiar voice filled with desperation yet held steady by an unwavering hope. As Enthy drew closer to the gentle cocoon Mei cradled Kannaka’s broken body within, the countless thoughts once running through her head dampened into mumbled whispers until the buzzing in her ears grew silent. Cautiously but with enough haste to follow right at Aaxir’s heel, the young dragon passed the injured Kinnara without sparing the two a single glance. Mismatched eyes remained fixed upon the black mana crawling around Hajun’s body as the revolting substance further morphed Eleanor’s body until the demon’s vessel lost the last of its recognizable traits.

She wouldn’t grant him the pleasure of receiving her anger and hatred, but that didn’t mean she didn’t wish the most painful death and destruction upon him.

“That look in your eyes suits you better,”

an aged, gravelly voice speaking with an authority and volume that hadn’t diminished by a single decibel since his heyday spoke up from the sachet hanging from Enthy’s waist. Golroth sounded pleased, so much so that it was easy to tell that he was nodding his head in approval within his spiritual prison.

“I was thinking a soft-shell like you would’ve been better off served for breakfast as a boiled egg, but it looks like you aren’t a completely hopeless hatchling. Maybe you won’t be an embarrassment to our kind yet, haha!”

The ancient destroyer chortled heartily as if he’d said something funny, but the recipient of his questionable compliments reciprocated his words with silence.

As Aaxir attempted to lock down the Demon King’s movements with all the fierceness of a force of nature, a thin, iridescent film began to crawl up the walls of their enclosure. The last of Veritas’s incantation completed the spell he’d channeled while the others had kept the Demon King and God of Plagues engaged. Upon the passage of a few more seconds, the film crystallized into a large-scale barrier encompassing their arena. It pressed up against the ceilings and walls, creating a sturdy seal that would prevent the well from collapsing in on the party should Hajun continue to shake its foundations.

“Guide the humble with your golden light,”

Enthy chanted as soon as she felt the mystical thrum of Veritas’s spell,

“and sear those who’ve betrayed the virtuous.”

From the tip of the axe the young dragon slammed into the ground as its epicenter, a golden light bloomed and pulsed once throughout the cavern. Golden chains shot out from the barrier’s walls, creating a web of metal chains robust and held taut enough for the heroes to latch on to. Should any have crossed Hajun’s path during the moment of their formation, they’d instead attempt to tightly grasp him within their coils and sear his skin like a hot iron brand. Each chain had been spaced out mindfully, leaving enough room for the heroes to easily maneuver around them but close enough that a quick leap was all it took to take advantage of the altered terrain.

One voice, however, made his disapproval of the dragon’s decision to focus on supporting her allies loud and clear.

“What was that? What was that?! You’re all smoke and no fire!”

Golroth bellowed in disbelief, his vitriol and anger growing great enough to shake the sachet he’d been so carefully placed within.

“You’re noisy. This isn’t the time for a lecture,”

Enthy mumbled under her breath while doing her best to concentrate on replacing any chains that sustained damage or shattered.

“Oh, no. Nope, nope, nope. Don’t care if you inherited that attitude from that coward with his head up his arse, but you will show me some respect, you gods damned hatchling. Noisy? You say I’m noisy? What’s noisy is that foolish god of yours who keeps feeding you those accursed morals that’ll only lead you to laying yourself down onto someone’s dinner plate. That puny little brain of yours…”

Enthy’s eyes continued to dart around, tracking Hajun and Aaxir’s movements as Golroth continued to sling insults that went in one ear and out the other. After another half minute of the ancient dragon’s tirade, she sighed.

“Then, can you teach me? Mold me into your vision of a true dragon.”

It was a shot in the dark relying solely upon the destroyer’s whims. Regardless of her resolve, she knew her complacency had left her powerless. There was little she could do aside from harassing the enemy from the sidelines where she belonged. However, the words spoken to her on the back of the ship to The Isles had confirmed one thing. She was a bumbling mess of a hatchling who knew nothing of her lineage, but he was a first-hand witness to the Azure Star’s reign.

“Hmph. Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps for a price…”

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

The gladiator's attack had been arrested, deflected back with a single blow. He raised his shield in time to parry the strike, the strenuous endeavour set his muscles ablaze and the blunt-force sent a flood of pain through his limbs. Tiberius barrelled back, bouncing off the hard, smooth-cut marble floor. He grit his teeth, bunching the muscles in his chest and arms. His back connected with something unyielding, driving the wind from his lungs like a blade across rough stone. He scrabbled, gasping, dragging himself deeper into the sanctity of the shadows as they embraced him. He felt it sting beneath the surface of his skin, an ache burning as though it were a bonfire. A hand clutched to the small of his back, feeling his flesh bulge — lumpy, pulsing with heat beneath his fingertips.

He fought back an icy shudder in his throat, and slowly raise his head. The corners of his eyes went wide, dim azures gleaming like sapphire stars in the distant nocturne. His lumbering breath stilled, heart stifled before the horror made manifest — black-feathered wings that bore aloft the keen-eyed Kinnari were ripped away from the whirlwind of freedom, torn off by her pinions. Tiberius clenched his fist, a volcanic fury permeating through his limbs, his veins striations of molten wrath. He rose, spatha in hand, the hot ache and searing hate across his body was suddenly smothered by the chill that settled over him, like sheets of hoarfrost on his body, spreading from his chest. It was a familiar coldness, hard, wrought from the devouring emptiness he so fervently despised. It clung to him again. Long had the gladiator thought his mind inured to these wretched cruelties, that his discipline had made of himself the master of his emotions. Perhaps, that had been the case so many bleak moons ago, but now he found himself supping from the cup of that same void, that soulless, implacable devotion again.

Tiberius felt his every thought bend to breaking this deplorable, contemptible creature — God or not, he found no merit in its continued existence.

"Tiberius." Her voice cautioned, sonorous like lightless thunder amidst dark clouds.

He silenced her. For the first time since the elision of his fleeting mortality and her boundless divinity, Tiberius had shuttered their bond, leaving only the quiet in his obsidian mind. No words bandied, no apology given. The gladiator shut his eyes gently, his firm gripped loosened, hands beneath the cold, black waters that flooded the gleaming obsidian lands of his mind. His hands emerged with scrimshawed shackles of star and nebula, binding the wrath that threatened to overtake him. But he had not relinquished the fire to the uncaring, indifferent void.

The gladiator's eyes opened, faint azures suffused with an energy that snapped ferociously. The shadows that so warmly enveloped him before, had silhouetted his towering form. He looked to his blade, its length barely obscured by the pale darkness. It took supreme effort for Tiberius to snap the implement, metal dully shrieking in the frenetic mayhem of their battle. The spatha bent, its blade shortened and flattened to that of a spear. The butt of the spear tapped the ground. He understood his body had been ravaged, too enfeebled to fully enter harmony with his Goddess. However, this will be enough. It must be enough. "Ready?" Tiberius asked, voice stolid and firm. "Yes." Her tone was a little less brusque, dimly soothing once again. A jagged lump was caught in his throat as the Godly-carved grooves of his mind were once more occupied. His eyes juddered for a moment, before resolutely settling on Hajun.

He saw his allies move, Aaxir unleashing an unrelenting flurry of lightning-edged strikes, radiating divine warmth that could rival the fury he once felt, while Enthy and Veritas bathed the Well in shimmering gold and bound their foe in chains.

Tiberius charged, skin shedding hard shadows in his wake. The dark films that bristled the Well's interior, at first only gossamer things then deepening into trailing palls of black smoke. The incorporeal shadows coalesced into twin tendrils surging towards Hajun's back. Rushing towards him, one pillar of darkness an empty faint, while Tiberius travelled the length of the other, spear prepared to lunge at the God, while his shield provided security against a counter.

Interactions: Nessi (Hajun)
Mentions: Nano (Enthy), LazyDaze (Aaxir-Tutu Pele)

 

[Zariel]

​

The Plague God leapt into the air with an agility that belied his grotesque form, his ragged fingers catching the edge of the precipice. He dangled there for a moment, the tips of his fingers straining against the stone. In a disgusting display, he regurgitated a puddle of vile, black muck that splattered onto the ground, its putrid stench filling the air.

The gloopy mass began to shift and ripple as if stirred by an invisible hand, stretching, elongating. Slowly, the shapeless sludge started to mould itself into a humanoid form. Limbs sprouted, elongated fingers curling and unfurling, as horns emerged from the skull, twisting with grotesqueness that matched its maker. An unholy offspring was born, brimming with savagery.

Azaera growled at the creature.

The Plague God descended alongside his spawn, gloating with a twisted grin forged of perverse satisfaction.

"Sssilence! ... You blabber, loathsome vermin!" Azaera hissed in retort. "Both you and your vile spawn shall perish by my flames!"

The she-dragon raised her head, her long, sinuous body began to writhe, and her violet gaze locked onto the abomination and its creator. She paused with predatory patience, like a viper moments before it strikes.

With a sky-shaking roar, Azaera lunged at them. Her jaws unhinged with a horrifying crack, opening impossibly wide to reveal rows of deadly fangs that dripped with paralytic venom, aiming to ensnare both Nergal and his pet in her giant maw. Using Flash Step, she blitzed toward her opponents, closing the gap in an instant, hopefully catching them off guard.

AZAERA
​

---

The Goddess of War - Inanna​

The force of Hajun's screech struck Inanna like a physical blow, sending her spiralling through the air. But the Goddess of War was not so easily undone. With practised finesse, her body rotated mid-air, landing on her two feet, skidding slightly in the dust but holding firm.

Inanna smirked.

"Not bad," she commended. "I would've been disappointed if the Demon King had been felled so easily."

She straightened, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Her eyes locked onto Hajun, eyes that had witnessed countless battles, eyes that could pierce through the veil of time and see the true essence of her opponent. They narrowed slightly, focusing with an intensity that could make even the bravest souls tremble.

Inanna's heart began to race, not with fear, but with the thrilling excitement of facing such a formidable adversary. It had been too long since she had felt this alive, too long since she had encountered a challenge worthy of her skill. The warriors and monsters she had faced before were mere playthings compared to the fiend that stood before her now.

Who could have been a better opponent for the Goddess of War than the God Slayer himself?

She shielded the side of her face with one hand as an immense wave of energy washed over the battlefield, scattering debris and sending tremors through the ground. From the heart of the crimson flames, Aaxir emerged, having become one with his goddess. Armoured with scales of obsidian, he stood proudly, blazing with the merciless wrath of a thousand suns.

"Hmph! I can't let that skank Tutu Pele have all the fun, and rob me of my glory!" scoffed the war god.

Her unbreakable sword in hand, Inanna rushed forth once more, this time, prepared to parry incoming attacks.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the golden chains piercing the air from all directions, weaving a misshapen web around Hajun. Though, she quickly noted how the chains exuded a familiar, unsavoury mana, one that made her grit her teeth. Veritas. She knew his touch, his power, his unmistakable magic. Those chains belonged to him.

Still, she was well aware that now was not the time to indulge in her personal grudges. A greater threat stood before them, and it would take their combined efforts to ensure victory... even if it meant working together with her ex-lover.

As the Goddess of War, the veneration of Inanna takes place not within the confines of temples or shrines but upon the hallowed grounds of the blood-soaked battlefield itself. And while she is revered by the mightiest armies, she was capable of becoming one herself.

Raising her empty hand, mana crackled all around as she summoned her power. A horde of sand clones, appearing in her likeness, manifested alongside her. Each one moved with her swiftness, her strength, her lethal precision.

At once, they all leapt into the forest of golden chains that Veritas had summoned. The clones ran along the chains, swinging between them, sporadically leaping from one to another in a confusing blur that would disorient their target, making it difficult to keep track of the real Inanna. With a silent command, she and her clones surrounded Hajun and launched their coordinated attack, diving toward him from multiple angles.

INANNA​

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

Interactions:

Mentions:

Idly, Fel wondered if he could collapse the Well of Origin. Even in the depths of night, he was confident in being able to topple the massive structure. Eliminating only a few key supports would be sure to destabilize the entire dome. Besides likely provoking some sort of ancient divine curse locked within the marble walls, several hundred thousand tons of stone ought to crush even a god into a fine paste. It would also pulp every last one of the heroes, but, well...

Fel watched as the possessed Eleanor manhandled several heroes at once, tossing them about like leaves in a late-autumn storm. Yes, perhaps it would still be an improvement upon the current situation.

"I hope I don't need to remind you to not massacre your entire party while trying to eliminate one or two enemies. Twice was enough."

"I wasn't really considering it," he protesting, glaring hotly at his tall goddess. "Am I not permitted even a sense of humor anymore?"

Ayao snorted. "You've never displayed even the barest hint of one until now. Perhaps I should be concerned at this sudden development -- is this what you mortals call a 'mid-life crisis'?"

"Oh, and you'd know all about those, wouldn't you?" Fel locked eyes with her. "Remind me, how many digits has your age reached now? Why, you must've been going through your first one around the advent of the wheel."

"You'll pay for that slight once we've dealt with this and returned."

"If we return."

"You will."

"...Yes, I suppose I will."

"Good. Now hurry and move along. I want you running laps around the perimeter of the island until you sweat blood today."

Suddenly the mage felt much less obliged. Perhaps Nergal's rot would prove a kinder fate than the goddess.

•••​

Fel hung back, circling behind the other, much louder heroes as they swarmed Nergal like flies to rotten fruit. Much, much louder. Fel winced and plugged his ears as Azaera's screeching wails rattled the building. Was that really necessary? Somehow she managed to be louder than even Aaxir usually was.

"Do you think that will work?" He asked, scratching his chin as the massive serpent charged the plague god and his grotesque, toothy little creation. What a nasty little pair they made.

"Unlikely," Ayao replied tersely. "If Nergal could be vanquished by methods as simple as a dragon's bulk and fangs, he would have never allowed to become so troublesome. Still, it is an admirable attempt, if somewhat shortsighted."

"Ah, so you're saying rushing the god who inflicts fleshrot and plague with a touch and his new pet, of which we know nothing about, would be a stupid idea."

"I did not use those words in any such order."

"Completely, utterly, and magnificently stupid."

"Fel Petri, if you do not quit stalling-" Ayao scowled and raised a hand to swat the willful elf about the head.

"Oh, alright, alright," he groaned, fending off her warning with a hand. "I wasn't even stalling, just... preparing myself. Mentally. And physically."

"You wouldn't need to prepare yourself if you were more open to this on a regular basis. Really, what is there to be so afraid of in my strength. All of your companions are more than willing to synchronize with their patrons. Do you know how it makes me look to have the only hero who avoids it like the plague? Why, I might as well become a laughingstock at this rate."

Grumbling as she continued to chastise him, Fel reached out and connected to Ayao's divinity. Her power was... intoxicating, sharp as lightning in his blood. He gasped and rocked back on his feet as the color leached from his skin and hair, leaving him with bleached-bone locks and a grey, pallid complexion. In their place arrived the sensation of his mind being stretched inhumanely, reaching for new, intimate facets he was deeply uncomfortable with. Fel raised one hand and a dozen invisible ones followed, picking apart the stone flooring to obey the silent command. Formed from wind, they twisted and turned freely but bucked at his reigns like wild stallions. The mage shivered at his partial synchronization, exerting himself to bring his new appendages to bear. Though this was his power, granted to him by his goddess, it still felt so foreign, like each limb was a living, breathing creature -- and they hated being restrained.

Fel took to the air, staff held aloft as he gathered his mana together. Already, his reserves were dipping sharply, the drain of his transformation burdening them heavily. Below, on the ground, Ayao raced forward, swifter than any mortal could ever hope to be. She reached out and plucked a pair of long, fragmented blades from the air. As she swung an arm out, they burst into a dozen pieces and followed the motion, like sharp, swift missiles cutting through the air.

He followed sharply after, crashing down to the earth with magic on his tongue. "Derecho." His extra limbs dug into the ground, securing Fel in place and he swung his staff and slammed its heavy head against the stone tiles. A razor-sharp gale burst outward, splitting the marble in half and forming a solid wall of howling wind in its wake. The force buffeted him back but his anchor held firm. He doubted either Nergal or his pet were slow enough to be caught by its edge, but if Fel used Azaera as a suitable distraction, perhaps it would be enough to separate the two. Surely they would be easier handled alone than together.

...Maybe.

 

[CasualTea]

Knife to the Throat

Rohen Xiong, "The Mad Orca"

Interactions: Nergal + Hajun Nessi

Mentions: All Heroes, Aaxir LazyDaze , Enthy Nano

A soft scoff was emitted from Rohen as she observed the first volley of attacks against the demon. Her water swords she just launched at him in which were lethal enough to take down a bear and even aimed at vital areas of the demon's body landed, his wretched life persisted. Even a fatal shot from Hou Yi into Hajun's skull wasn't enough to kill him. It almost seemed like the bastard was immortal. "Son of a bitch is unkillable. Should be down lifeless right now..." Just as she was about to send more water swords his way, he had fully made Eleanor's body his own, with all her features fully morphed into his image which allowed him to feel free to expose skin by ripping off the shirt that covered that body.

Something ticked in Rohen. She gets that since all feminine features of Eleanor had been stripped from what was once her body and is now fully transformed into that of a man, a demon no less. Still, the thought is what irked her and all she felt was pure disgust. She sheathed her dao and slung it behind her. Her arm blade having been deactivated leaving Rohen with just her fist and her claws gifted by the partial synchronization. "As water brings forth life and nourishment, life begets death." She incanted. "And thus, as per divine law, grant this one the ability to crush such taboo. God's Fist." As she completed the incantation, water swirled around her and coalesced around both her arms, hardening and darkening into additional scales increasing in armor plating and reinforcing durability but also creating more jagged edges in the areas of her fists. Her left arm though, sported more layers and attributes that would promote bludgeoning type damage. As her right hand had more sharper edges, her left arm was more armored and thicker.

As she knew what she was going to do next, she decided to armor up a bit further. She used what remaining water she had from the incantation to harden the scales of her skin to be more durable so that she may mitigate whatever impact she will receive. Especially with Hajun obtaining a weapon, armor's gonna be a must. She cracked her knuckles as she began making her approach. Looks as if Aaxir had already started on the fun and she was the one running a little late this time. What everyone was doing wasn't going to kill him. Even so, it did not matter much to her.

"...You're joking, right?" Tiamat inquired in Rohen's head. She was a little dumbfounded at her hero's resolve.

"Is this the best plan you can come up with?" She continued.

"The only plan I know thus far on such short notice." She said aloud even though her words were meant for Tiamat.

"You said so yourself. Killing him does not seem like a possibility at the very moment."

"Have some faith in me, I know this won't kill him." Rohen said, staring down her target. "I just need him to hurt. Suffer. So much that he'll regret even thinking about coming back to life." She smirked a little as she watched the angry red dragon pummel away at the demon. "Pffeh, look at this limp-tail having all the fun already." She then bolted forth in a straight line before she joined Aaxir in pummeling Hajun. Her attacks were vicious, ferocious. Teeming with a controlled yet enormous rage as she worked with Aaxir and coordinated following up his attacks. "You give that body back to her just the way you found it!" She roared with every ounce of rage in her being. "The only good demon is a dead demon, SO LET'S MAKE THIS DEMON GOOD!!"

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Interactions:

Mentions:

Nel stamped her foot on the ground, rare frustration welling up when Hajun took over more of Eleanor's body. She whirled toward Shiva and pointed at Hajun like a child pointing out a bully to her caretaker. ”He's not dead yet! No fair!”

Shiva clicked his tongue in distaste. Faced with two fellow gods whose actions and methods directly clashed with his own values, he briefly entertained the idea of– no. No, that wouldn't do. He was frankly a little horrified that such an impulsive thought even ran through his mind in the first place.

“You are a terrible influence,” he snapped at Nel.

The little fae gawped at the sudden insult. Chaos resumed around them as the other heroes gathered their wits and attacked in a renewed effort to take Hajun and Nergal down. Shiva observed the battlefield critically. Both opponents already had a gaggle of heroes and gods on them, though the onslaught was thinner on Nergal’s end. He could join the assault on Nergal, but with Inanna and Ayao’s heroes’ already in the midst of their attacks, he was more likely to be caught in the dragon’s maws or be swept off his feet by the gale if he charged in without coordination.

Shiva snatched his Trishula back from Nel’s lax hands – grimacing when the pink little trinkets adorned on it clinked against the metal pole arm – and took on a ready position. Depending on the result of the two heroes’s attack, he could defend against a retaliation or leap in if Nergal was weakened.

”Focus your efforts on Hajun,” he barked, spatting out the Demon King’s name hatefully.

Nel pouted but didn't argue. After a moment of thought, she summoned a dense circle of water to envelop the ground around her. The water rose up and extended into eight tendrils resembling an octopus’s limbs. The tips were frozen into thin, sharp blades of ice.

She lifted the tendrils, then hesitated when she saw the throng of heroes charging at Hajun.

“Aw, I might hit my friends,” she lamented, wiggling her new limbs.

”They can take it,” Shiva said dismissively, then immediately palmed his face. Nel truly was a terrible influence.

Nel blinked, then nodded resolutely. “You're right. They can take it.”

Shiva eyed the blades. With a wave of his hands, purifying flames coated the ice. He didn't know what trickery Hajun used to ensnare Paimon’s hero, but the fire hadn't done anything to free her of the possession. With any luck, Nel’s blades could hit Hajun and perhaps allow the flames to work from within.

Nel stared. “The ice’ll melt.”

”Then hit Hajun before they do.”

“It might burn my buddies!”

”It won't.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Deciding that taking Shiva's words at face value was easier than mulling over possibly hurting her friends, Nel waved her four arms in a much less graceful manner than when she danced the Tandeva. The water tendrils whipped down from above the group.

“Friendly fire and water incoming!” Nel hollered. If she accidentally took out a chunk of flesh from her allies… Well, Kai and Wanga could deal with that!

 

[Steve Jobs]

Freyr Stormsurge

Mentions: The Heroes, Hajun

Freyr skidded across the area, his back cracking amidst the heavy blow from Hajun.

He was getting too old to fight gods.

No, god was too kind and to weak of a word for Hajun. This otherworldly demon managed to absorb every attack that came his way.

Far from fear, the pain that the heroes inflicted only excited him into ecstasy. Black mana surrounded Hajun, consuming the browns of her hair, the softness of her features, and the little bit of self left. Where they were once fighting a corpse, Hajun transformed her into something else entirely. Very quickly the question changed from "how" they would rescue their leader to "if?" Even if they beat Hajun within an inch of his life, would there be anyone to salvage?

To that end, the Fae-Giant could sympathize with Aaxir's frustration.

"I don't care what you do, just stay out my way dwarf."

His sympathy quickly faded.

"Conceit is how we ended up here,"

he grunted, taking the dragon's hand. His hammer hadn't fallen too far away so there was no need to scramble. Instead, his eyes moved to the cage Enthy wove around the narrow pathway. She'd done well to give them space and judging by its tautness, could bear a bit of weight.

Rather than following the other dragon's lead, Freyr observed Tiberius and Inanna's movements. As quick as Hajun's reflexes were, his perception still had its limits. In the same way that Freyr landed a hit earlier, so too did Hou Yi's arrow strike true. Their folly had been in a lack of synchronization, one that would quickly be remedied now that Inanna provided them a window of opportunity. A man of such bravado would not back down from the goddess' provocation, much less the opportunity to crush Eleanor's allies.

With Aaxir and Rohen fighting Hajun, Freyr grabbed onto one of the chains and hoisted himself upward. Higher and higher until Inanna's clones rushed passed him. Either Hajun would turn his attention upward or he'd focus on the other heroes striking him.

The Fae-Giant leaped from above, arms covered in fire as he reached for Hajun's neck. Even if Freyr could only restrain the other man for a few seconds, it ought to be enough to knock the mace out of his hand.

“Friendly fire and water incoming!”

Freyr's grip tightened around Hajun as fiery tendrils descended upon the group. With any luck the Godslayer would perish before his flame resistance gave out; alas luck did not come so easily to heroes.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Polux, Warden Of The Outer Night

The star-riven visor, shifting and burning with potent fury, glared down as the Plague God reached deep within to expunge a monstrosity from his gullet. The twitching mass of inky blackness squirmed, quivering as it bent, snapped, and grew into its form. Polux's helm shifted, a soft grating as he fixed the newly-spawned creature. Its sallow skin was grey, taut like paper stretched thin, shot through with veins as black as coal. The summoned beast was almost as tall as Polux, but svelte and smooth where the Warden was large and jagged. Its vicious maw, of razor-wicked teeth, yawned wide, gleaming in the Wells' dim light. A sword was drawn, a sharp blade as grey as the encroaching dusk. Polux grunted, shouldering his maul, the craggy head spewing gouts of flames bejewelled with the glistening beauty of the night sky.

He'll allow the champions of the Divine to deal with the wayward, haughty God of Ill, while he shall dispose of this wretched, gods-forsaken cur. The grip on his maul tightened. His eyes smouldered, burning crimson, with the cruel gleam of wrath about them. He snapped forward as Inanna's champion roared, charging as the very air shivered around him, his metallic thumps resounded like thunder, cracking the marble underfoot with each step. The dreadnought was vaguely aware of the sun elf above him, weaving his conjurations. It seemed as though they were like-minded: Division, Domination.

Polux barely outpaced the rushing edge of the wind wall. He met the beast head-on, the force of his shoulder-barge carried the dark creature off its cloven feet. It was not meant to wound, merely to move the nefarious spawn. A ferocious onslaught began as two towering titans exchanged blow after blow. Their weapons screamed, slicing through the air with relentless fury, juddering fat sparks with each clash, deflect, or parry. Polux's maul roared, snarling like star-wrought animal as it loosened cosmic flame from its heavy, craggy head. And his opponent's blade smoked, streaming thin rivulets of slate smog.

They lashed out again. The maul struck the sword, the sword struck the maul, their metals met, their mettles challenged. A crash rang out around the Well, forcing Polux to back step away from the sword-wielding creature. However, it pushed its advantage. It went forwards, delivering an underhand blow. Polux tried to parry, but the heavier weapon had been too slow — the smoking blade sent the smouldering maul skidding from Polux's gauntleted fingers. Twisting, seeping star-sick ferocity as it traveled through the air. Then it stopped.

The maul shuddered, frozen in place, unburdened by the heavy shackles of this mudball. It spun downwards, pointing its flaming cudgel to the beast. Polux's fist clenched and swung it high to low. The weapon woven from a starless night, as fast as lightning, barreled towards the beast like a meteorite wreathed in the fires of atmospheric entry.

Interactions: Nessi (Beast of Nergal)
Mentions: OldTurtle (Fel), Zariel (Azaera)