"Three on three. I like those odds," Dino crowed. "How do you want to do this? Take whoever we want? If you don't mind, the big guy's mine."
"Fine by me," Yareli said, knowing her limitations. Dino seemed their best chance at defeating Surtur.
"I'll take Simensen," ID-01 said without preamble. "I'll put him down."
"Just don't kill him," Yareli replied. "Reine's mine. We have unfinished business."
Surtur crossed his arms. "Excellent choice. Let's settle this."
Jörmungandr cackled, reveling in the prospect for more bloodshed. He circled ID-01 like a savage predator, ready to devour its prey. While she'd never liked the man, Yareli pitied Simensen. Despite his questionable decisions, he'd only wanted to improve the world.
Yareli flinched back as Hel suddenly opened fire on her, Reine showing no intention for chatter. The bulk of Yareli's sword intercepted the incoming shots, protecting her from their stinging bites. Her opponent summoned her zombie minions to cordon Yareli away from her allies. Eying the Uhyre-created monsters and zombies, Yareli noticed some familiar faces missing. Hadn't Johan said Hel had resurrected Selim and his two Jötnar friends? Yet, they were nowhere to be found. While worrying, she concentrated on the battle ahead.
"Nowhere to run, little pup!" Reine said, her tone mocking.
But it only bolstered Yareli's resolve. "You're right. With those injuries, you aren't escaping alive."
"Kill her," Hel said, her hatred undisguised. Together, her zombie horde attacked her as one.
"No time to play around." Yareli pulled out her Uhyre key and inserted it into her sword. Its blade crackled with energy as she prepared her next attack. "Fang Cleaver!"
Hel's minions screamed, some desperately scrambling to safety as the burst of energy consumed them. Yareli swung her blade around in a circle, the torrent of water from her attack scouring the monsters into bloody chunks. So little remained of them, Yareli doubted you could make a single creature from what remained.
The remaining zombies stared in horrified shock, scattering like frightened mice. It left a clear path to Yareli's goal.
"No." Reine's voice trembled in terror. She knew justice had finally arrived for her, and it'd dog her relentlessly until she collapsed dead from exhaustion.
///
Dino beamed in delight as Yareli devastated Reine's little zombie horde with a single attack, pleased his rival could still put up a good fight. While he eagerly wanted to fight her again, that matter could wait. A steely gaze watched his opponent, knowing the slightest mistake would likely cost him the battle.
Each combatant stood stock-still, waiting for the other to make the opening move. Dino wondered if his opponent was having as much fun as he was. While everyone claimed Surtur didn't possess emotions, something told Dino Surtur enjoyed a sporting match as much as he did. Surtur wasn't a mere cheap copy of President Wilson.
"Let's begin!" He hurled his spear toward his opponent. To protect his vitals, Surtur covered his heart with his thick arms. It proved only partially effective, the blow leaving a deep gash across the side of his armored gauntlets. Sparks spluttered from the wound as his spear pierced Surtur's chest.
His opponent dashed to the side, Dino ducking a blow to his head. He caught his spear as it dropped to the ruined street. As Dino engaged his opponent, a smile grew on his lips. Sparks showered as he scored some lucky hits, but Surtur proved too agile for Gungnir to strike his weak point.
While Surtur's chest armor had repaired itself, the body beneath hadn't. His opponent fought with quick, reserved movements, preserving as much energy as possible. Robogirl was right about Surtur's energy systems being impaired. If he could draw out the fight, victory would be his.
A sudden punch rattled Dino's skull, throwing him almost clear across the street. He hissed as flames consumed his body, but they sputtered out as he landed. "That's if I survive that long!" His skin tingled, like it had suffered a serious sunburn. It'd be smart not to let Surtur touch him again.
Dino entered a fighting stance, readying himself as Surtur charged like a bull. A sudden scream made the false Wilson's steps falter, turning toward the sound. Dino joined him, watching as Fenrir beat the hell out of Reine with her fists. Only an amateur martial artist, the former idol was helpless against such an assault.
Was the fake Wilson worried about Reine? Dino remembered how fatherly his boss had been toward her, loving the orphan like a daughter. Was Surtur actually Wilson?
Yareli screamed in shock and surprise as Surtur's sword suddenly struck her chest, thrown from an impossible distance. He stomped to his ally's assistance, basically forgetting about Gungnir.
Surtur had a weakness. Despite all logic, he cared for Reine and would do anything to protect her. While somewhat shameful, Dino would use that fault to defeat him.
"Sorry, boss, but it's necessary," Dino thought. Not that he felt much guilt hurting the former idol. Hatred burned within him for her crimes. Reine had killed her father figure and benefactor without shame or pity. For the world's sake, he'd kill her without hesitation.
///
Steel clashed as ID-01 impassively blocked a wild swing from Jörmungandr's blade. Even without her prediction algorithms, it had been an easy attack to intuit. She hadn't expected, however, how Jörmungandr's weapon would corrode her sword with its mere touch.
Wings spread wide, she flew away before another wild swing struck her armor. ID-01 changed strategies, keeping her distance. She tossed aside her useless sword as its blade crumbled. In response to her supposed helplessness, Jörmungandr laughed, charging with maniac glee.
While not afraid—that was a human experience—Valkyrie grew concerned she might have taken on more than she could handle. ID-01 didn't dare allow her opponent to even touch her. Her wing blade tore into him, but it barely bothered Jörmungandr. The pain only spurred him further, continuing his bestial attacks with increasing ferocity.
With a flourish, ID-01 flew to the remains of a broken roof. She plucked a metal feather from a wing and reformed its structure. In moments, she had a sword again.
That was Valkyrie's most useful ability—her model shifted the armor's metal to suit her purposes. She flattened to the ground as a sudden wave of purple flew over her, her mood darkening as the shockwave collapsed a nearby apartment complex, melting its brick surface like wax. Jörmungandr didn't care how much he destroyed if it meant victory. How inelegant.
She would make him pay for such needless destruction. Jörmungandr faltered as ID-01's wing blade slashed his left leg. There had to be a point where his pain threshold would hit its breaking point and force a detransformation. But her opponent surprised her, catching both wing blades with his hands. With incredible strength, he shattered them to pieces.
Jörmungandr hadn't emerged unscathed, however. Exposed circuitry showed where he'd caught her blades. Before he could snatch up his fallen sword, Valkyrie created distance between them.
She studied him from her perch, her armor separating from her body to reform her wings. It'd cost valuable protection, but losing mobility would be more dangerous. Before they fully formed, her half-constructed left wing intercepted a quick jab from Jörmungandr's sword. A flicker of irritation crossed her as his poison corroded on contact, forcing her to abandon the appendage entirely. Without enough metal to form another wing, she was left with a rather lopsided right one. It added further unwanted complications to her battle calculations.
Her opponent kept coming, seeking to overwhelm her already dwindling defenses. She had to sacrifice another sword to keep her head, their blades clashing. But blood welled from Jörmungandr's right palm as she jabbed the broken half of her blade into his exposed circuitry.
Jörmungandr howled in pain, edging away in primal fear. With this injury, he'd have a rough time wielding his sword against her. Not wasting a moment, she constituted another sword from her dwindling supplies. Pieces of her exposed skin were visible along her ribs.
Instead of attacking, Jörmungandr continued to nurse his wounded hand. The mad berserker rage had diminished, replaced by a fearful, wounded animal. She wondered if the pain helped restore the broken remains of Simensen's mind.
"Are you there, Simensen?" ID-01 said. "Can you understand me?"
Something registered in Simensen's body language, calming somewhat. He clenched his head, racked by pain. For several brief seconds, ID-01 had been confident she'd broken through. This hope proved short-lived—the madness soon returned with a vengeance. He cackled and grabbed his fallen weapon with his wounded hand. With the other, he pulled out his Uhyre key and reinserted it into his sword.
At this distance, dodging the incoming wave of devastation was impossible. But her computerized mind calculated thousands of possible escape scenarios in mere milliseconds.
In a blur, her sword flew toward Jörmungandr's sword arm. It struck true, redirecting the blade at a slight five-degree angle. While not much, it provided ID-01 the space she needed.
The wave clipped her, blowing her off her feet. Her chest armor hissed and bubbled as the energy wave seared her armor, exposing the vulnerable, unprotected parts of her body to the deadly corrosive energy. Her back landed with a thud against a broken bench—alive, if just barely.
In a brief second, she examined her armor, dropping like stones any piece corroded beyond repair to avoid damaging her other systems. Her right wing had survived intact, but otherwise, her armor barely covered 10 percent of her body.
Jörmungandr howled in frustration at his opponent's unexpected survival, raising his sword for an easy kill. But his weapon clattered to the cracked street below as ID-01 slashed across his already wounded hand with her remaining wing blade.
"In your right mind, I doubt I would have stood a chance against your full power. But your rampage has already exhausted most of your energy. Farewell."
Jörmungandr screamed in outrage, charging with fists raised. But ID-01 was ready, pulling out her key before reinserting it.
Valkyrie leaped high into the air, shining like a radiant bird. Her remaining armor gathered around her right leg, her last wing guiding her upward. Flaring to life, it blasted her toward her target.
"Celestial Kick!" Her aim proved true, her armored foot connecting with Jörmungandr's chest. A burst of energy exploded from the impact point, blasting her opponent back. The collision caused Jörmungandr's transformation to fail, Simensen rolling against the cracked pavement. His Rangadriver collapsed to the ground, slightly smoking, removing him from the fight.
While bruised and scraped raw from hitting the street, Simensen would live. Though, ID-01 doubted his mental state would be stable when he regained consciousness. Either damaged by his faulty Rangadriver, or wracked by guilt over his possessed actions, he'd be driven into despair. Regrettable, but it wasn't her problem. Instead, she focused on her next action.
"Should I return to the lab? Or help against Surtur?" With her suit so damaged, she'd only get in their way. A column of smoke billowing from a familiar location stole the decision from her—the puffs of gray coming from Halvorsen's lab.
"Father."
Still wearing her half-functioning armor, ID-01 trekked in that direction with hurried steps. If only both her wings were functional.
"Father. I'm coming." Her steps quickened as the smoke worsened.
///
Boots clicked against the polished floor as Johan paced, frantic and worried. Yareli was fighting for her life, and he couldn't do squat to help her. He watched from the corner of his eye as Halvorsen worked on what they hoped would be their salvation.
People were terrified of leaving their homes, while others looted, driven mad by Surtur's senseless destruction. The worldwide news expounded every gory detail. It squawked from a small flat screen the scientist refused to turn off. He insisted on keeping up to date on current events, regardless of how disheartening they might be.
Like Bifrost, cities across the globe were in utter turmoil. Many businesses were closed, their parent companies bankrupt, and lost on how to respond. Others were empty as people hoarded valuable supplies, fearing the worst. The global economy was in total ruin. People were only now learning the devastating potential of Surtur's equation. Would life ever return to normal again?
With Samuel, Rebecca, and Friedel out in Bifrost, Johan feared for their safety. His friend had insisted on using his handgun to help the other Valkyries keep order. Rebecca and his stepfather, however, had gone to a secret Ymir safe house to retrieve vital supplies. Halvorsen needed more specialized parts for his project.
"Calm yourself, Johan," Anderson said. "Fretting will only add to your nervousness."
"Yes, you're causing a racket!" Halvorsen said over his shoulder.
"I can't help it. I can't just stand here and do nothing," Johan said.
"And you will, son. But I need time. This can't be rushed."
Johan didn't reply, turning toward a window to peer out. His heart broke when he saw the devastation. It was like a natural disaster had struck his city. Buildings that had seemed a permanent fixture of Bifrost were just gone. A thirty-story hotel famous for its celebrity visitors had become a smoldering ruin. He'd only lived in Bifrost for three years, but it had become his home. At least Yareli's intervention had stopped Jörmungandr from causing more trouble.
"Huh?" He frowned, convinced he'd caught a fast-moving shadow in the corner of his eye. It vanished before he could track it, making Johan wonder if he'd imagined it.
"Uh, guys. I fear we might have visitors." A bell rung in Johan's head that something was wrong.
"Really?" The detective uttered a string of curses, pulling his issued laser pistol from its holster. Halvorsen didn't reply, only giving a grim nod.
As Johan grabbed for his trusty sword, a window exploded in a shower of glass shards. Thankfully, he'd turned away in time, and his thick coat protected him from the worst of the damage. Still hurt like hell, though. His heart jumped into his throat as he spotted the intruder hanging on the windowsill.
"Hiding like a rat, Johan? You were always a coward," Randel said, his voice a growl in his wolf form. "But you can't escape. I'll sniff you out wherever you hide."
Another window exploded, and a cat-like monster entered the building. "You aren't escaping this time," the Boss said.
His panic entered a fever pitch as spiderwebs shot toward each window, blocking their escape. Selim had sealed every exit, making escape impossible—like a cockroach trapped in a roach motel. Only Halvorsen remained calm, watching the intruders with an indifferent air.
"Brave, aren't you? Figured it out, have you? Like a hero of legend, you're going to cut down the big, bad, terrible monster." His late friend gave an ugly laugh. "Shame reality doesn't work that way."