Prometheus flew towards Vlad's attack. The point of the blade aimed right at his left eye. Prometheus flung his right chain back. It found a target and wrapped around one of the columns behind him. He felt the chain go taut and pulled. His body stopped, suspended in mid-air between the wall and Vlad. He smiled, his gaze going wild. The chain links wrapped around his left arm began to glow, and steam began to rise from the burning metal. The glow travelled down the chain and flew from Prometheus towards Vlad. He could feel the heat well before it got near him and released the chain. The spot he just let go of ignited. Heat and concussive force expelled from the metal and slammed into Vlad. Prometheus pulled away just as the blast released and sailed back towards the column. Vlad skidded to a halt and threw the blade. Prometheus flicked his free chain and knocked it away. Vlad reached behind his back with both hands and pulled out several blades held between his fingers. He tossed them all. "Vlad's not letting up! Even after Prometheus broke away from his attack, he refuses to give him any space to breathe!" Heimdall shouted.
Prometheus' eyes dilated. He took his left chain in hand and twirled it. Faster, faster, faster… the chain spun until it turned bright orange. Each time it swung near the ground, it scraped out rock, and sparks flew. "Flegómeni Díni!" Flames burst from the chain. The swirling blaze intercepted each blade, knocking each one out of the air as they tried to fly by. Vlad continued to throw more at the vortex, but each one failed to pass through. "Want to see what else this trick can do, Human!?" Prometheus brought the chain to his side, continuing to spin it. "Enjoy it!" Prometheus threw the chain towards Vlad, the vortex flattening out into a single long white-hot stream of metal and heat. It whistled through the air as it soared. Vlad let his knees buckle and dropped. The chain flew overhead. The heat scorched the top and back of his head as he dropped into a crouch. He glared at the Titan and dashed. He pulled more blades out from behind his back and tossed them from under the chain. Prometheus leaned and lurched to avoid them; a few of them flew past him. Some found home. One stabbed into his left quadricep and another into his left side. He felt the pain erupt from his wounds. He quickly reached for them and pulled them out as Vlad rushed towards him. Prometheus pulled his left chain back, the metal having cooled. His right chain went slack around the column, and he pulled it back to him. Vlad reached behind his back and pulled out a straight-edged, silver, guardless sword as he closed in, the chain flying back overhead. He kept low to the ground; straightening back up would put him right in the path of the heavy chain and potentially take his head off. Prometheus wrapped the chains around his arms. Vlad swung the sword from the right. The blow collided with Prometheus' chain-covered arms. The force of the strike tilted him to the right. How is this human so damn strong!?
Vlad swiped back to the right. Prometheus ducked under the slash. Using that momentary blind spot, Vlad reached his left hand behind his back and pulled out another blade, and slashed. Prometheus rolled back, barely avoiding the second slash. He rolled onto his feet and lunged forward. Twisting his upper body right, he pulled his right arm back. His left foot slammed into the ground just in front of Vlad, and his body twisted back to the left. His right fist struck just under Vlad's left arm as he tried to swing his sword back. The slack chain wrapped around his arm slid forward, pushing his fist deeper into Vlad's chest. It began to glow. Vlad could only stare down at the blow as his chest began to burn. "Émvolo Pou Kaíei!" An explosion erupted from his chain-covered fist, and Vlad flew back. He landed with a hard, metallic thud. Prometheus fell to the ground.
"W-what happened!?" Heimdall shouted. "Prometheus smashed and blasted Vlad away, but both collapsed!?" He pulled out his tablet to go over the replay. The screen lit up and began the replay. Heimdall pinched it and expanded the screen. He then saw it. The moment that made what looked like a one-sided clash into a near-death trade-off. At the moment Prometheus' punch made contact with Vlad, several blades jutted out from the cloak straight towards Prometheus. They stabbed him as Vlad flew away from the blow. "It was a dual exchange!" Heimdall displayed his tablet's screen on the floating monitors outside the dome. "Vlad tried to skewer Prometheus as he took the hit! What a madman!"
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Prometheus snarled. His right quadricep and his right shoulder both had spotted puncture wounds. His right arm had two long cuts along the inside and outside of his upper arm. Another large cut now showed on his right cheek, and a large gash now appeared on his right ear. "Is that hard for you to just roll over and die?" Vlad groaned as he lifted himself. The spot where Prometheus was hit started to smoke before it cooled down. He got back to his feet, rolling his left shoulder to ensure he had full movement. No issues there. "Look, I get what you're trying to do. Nothing is more admirable than true redemption. Admitting you're evil is the first step to that. Which you did! Good for you! But I…" Prometheus flared out his arms to his sides. "I am seeking the redemption and salvation of the entire Human race. Not my own. If all you're here to do is save yourself, then you're no better than the Gods." Vlad stared lazily at him. He did not know why, or if he did, it was irrelevant to him. He felt the compulsion and decided not to fight it. He yawned. Slow, loud, and expressive. Just…a yawn. He did not bother to even cover his mouth. He smacked his lips, blinked slowly, and continued his lazy stare. "What, think you're too good to say anything, Human?" Prometheus asked. Vlad looked to his left, then to his right.
"Vlad, this guy's posturing is nauseating. Can we kill him yet?" Geirölul asked. "That last attack almost got him."
"We can, but doing it now is pointless. Such things must serve a purpose," Vlad answered.
"Are you ignoring me, Human!?" Prometheus yelled.
"Death is not something to take lightly, Geirölul. Every life serves a purpose. Whether a good one…or a vile one. His…will solidify the foundation established by the Fighters before us."
"I'm not really getting what you're saying, but if that means we're tearing this guy apart," Geirölul grinned maniacally. "I'm in." Vlad smiled.
"I knew you'd be."
Prometheus stared at his opponent. "Guess there's no reasoning with you." The chains on his arms began to glow. "You're playing with fire, Human. Prepare to burn."
"Hilde, something's bothering me," Göll said.
"What's that?" Brunhilde asked.
"After the match started, Vlad's been quiet the entire time, except when talking to Big Sis Geir. For all of Prometheus' talking, Vlad isn't fighting back against the insults. Everyone else threw it right back at their opponents, but he's just…"
"Bored? Like he's not even paying attention?"
"I mean…yeah, it seems like it. He's taking this seriously, right?"
"Don't worry, Göll. He is. He's taking Prometheus seriously as a Fighter, but not as a philosophical opponent."
"Why?"
"Vlad's a weird guy." Brunhilde pulled out her tablet, tapped on the screen a few times, and passed it to Göll. "This is an interview that the Valhalla Media Department got in their efforts to learn about the Fighters."
"…This place has a Media Department?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
Göll sighed at the notion. She stared at the screen and pushed the play button.
"So why am I here exactly?" Asked the old man sitting in the middle of the empty stone room, his soft brown eyes staring ahead. In front of him was a single camera, a microphone, and a few angels in black suits handling the equipment. He wore a red double-breasted shirt, white pants, and black boots; his dark hair and thick beard were combed neatly. On his left hip was a curved sword, the guard and handle a dull bronze.
Vlad Dracul II
(Wallachia)
"We wanted to ask you about your son, who's currently scheduled to fight in Ragnarök. We tried interviewing others about him, mainly those who knew him when he was ruling over Wallachia. They all…politely declined." The angel behind the camera said.
"You mean Vlad III?" He asked while stroking his beard. He stared up and to the right. "What do you want to know about him?"
"Whatever you can share."
Vlad looked down; his expression hardened. It was not often he talked about any of his sons, let alone the black sheep that was Vlad III, better known as the Impaler.
"I need to say this before I go any further; while I may denounce him…he is still my son. I still love all my sons. He…just did not seem to be on a level on a…level of awareness that most people live on."
"What do you mean?" The angel asked.
"Vlad…ever since he was young, he did not see people as people. When I saw him looking at someone or even talking to them, it was like he wasn't there. More like he just talked at them, rather than to them. I could tell he listened because he could carry on conversations. He just looked…bored. He always looked bored. Even when he and Radu were sent to the Ottomans…"
"As hostages."
Vlad II sighed. "…yes. As hostages. I had to ensure stability at my realm's borders. I had constant disputes between nobles in Wallachia to deal with, and if the Ottomans invaded, Wallachia would be crushed. The Ottomans would then campaign through the rest of the lands…the very idea of that robbed me of sleep and peace. What else could I do?" Vlad II rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "Radu was horrified. He thought I hated him. Vlad, on the other hand, was bored as always. I thought he would hate me for it, too. I almost would have preferred it." He stared up at the ceiling. "Were we no different to him than anyone else? Did we matter so little to him that being separated from us didn't mean a thing to him?"
"His father?" Göll said incredulously.
"Yep. His mother and brothers were also interviewed. Most of them said the same thing; he always looked bored, he was smart, and most important of all?" Brunhilde looked menacingly at her sister. "Wicked. Vlad, for some odd reason, holds very few people in high regard. Everyone else is just an unimportant nameless face that he can kill or trample on without hesitation. No pleasure, no hatred, no satisfaction, no catharsis. His entire being is pure brutality with zero emotion behind it. That's why he's the best Fighter for Villains. He's the perfect template for a remorseless killing machine, and the best karmic slap in the face for that asshole, Prometheus."
"You called him a dirtbag and now an asshole. Why do you hate him so much?"
"Assholes like him are a dime a dozen. They give out things claiming altruism. The truth is, he's an opportunist who jumps ship at the first sign of trouble. He ditched the Titans when Zeus beat Kronos in the Titanomachy Tournament, and he tried it again with Humanity. Zeus wasn't having any of it and beat Prometheus within an inch of his life and chained him to the rock. Too good for him if you ask me." Göll stared at her sister. The level of resentment in her voice was foreign to her and seemed far more personal than she wanted to admit.
Prometheus dashed towards Vlad, his chains continuing to glow. Vlad, swords in hand, ran to meet him. The two barreled towards each other, ready to claim the next blow and pull momentum their way. I can't get close to him. Those weird blades popped out from under his cloak, and he's fighting dirty. Prometheus thought. Range isn't good either. He's far more agile than he looks in that armor and heavy cloak. Plus, his skill with throwing knives is annoying. What can I do… The two closed in. Prometheus' long reach meant he would reach his range first. However, he did not need to wait for him to get close. He quickly shifted his weight and turned his upper body to the right. He snapped back, firing a powerful, burning cross. "Piánontas Flóga!" The blow flew forward, and upon reaching its full extension, the glowing chain rolled up onto his closed fist and flung off in front of him. The ball of hot metal flew right towards Vlad. Vlad let his knees go slack, and he fell to the ground in a slide. The attack flew over him, and as he slid towards Prometheus, he aimed a cross-slash towards Prometheus' lead leg with both swords. He saw the attack and jumped back, barely avoiding the attack and losing his left leg. He jerked his right chain, still glowing, back and down towards his opponent. Vlad rolled to the right, the chain barely missing him. Mid-roll, Vlad returned his swords to the interior of his cloak and pulled out four throwing blades. He flicked his wrist, sending them flying towards the Titan. Prometheus blocked and swatted them away with his chain-wrapped left hand. Vlad got back to his feet, pulling his swords back out from within his cloak. Prometheus squinted at him. I get it now.
"Turning a close-range attack into a long-range strike! Prometheus is keeping Vlad on his toes!" Heimdall yelled. "Both Fighters are continuing to change and gauge their opponents' abilities at all ranges! Who will fall first? The Chains…or the Blades!?
"Well, Human. Got to give it to you. Must be nice carrying an entire arsenal with you wherever you go in that cloak of yours. Almost makes a guy jealous."
Vlad said nothing. "Vlad, he's figured it out," Geirölul said.
"Not entirely, but he's close. Doesn't matter." Vlad said.
Geirölul smiled. "…Because it doesn't mean he knows what we can do."
"Couldn't put it better. Let's leave him in the dark…for now."
"If he lives that long!" She roared.
Vlad smiled again. Vlad reached with his right hand and tapped the points where his cloak connected to his armor with his index and middle fingers. The cloak fell off in a heavy, metallic thump. Prometheus stepped his right foot back, showing only his left side to Vlad as he swung his right chain.
"What are you doing?" Prometheus asked, mildly irritated.
"Doing what I've been doing since the start; pitying you."
"So the first words you aim my way are nothing but insults. Typical."
"Can't help pitying an empty soul like you. However, I am being asked to kill you. Killing something I pity…is conflicting."
"Keep your pity…" The right chain flew towards Vlad. "To yourself!"
Heimdall, what're the results right now? The message read on his tablet. Set was getting antsy and needed to know how it was going.
"Oh, wait. I forgot to check." Heimdall pulled up the application needed for the match, 'Crowd Morale', to see who had more negative sentiment towards them.
Prometheus 50%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 50%
They're still tied. Nothing's moved. Heimdall typed and sent back the results. "This guy's been nothing but a pain since this round started…why is he so damn persistent about this?" Heimdall asked himself quietly.
The chain flew towards a stalwart Vlad, gaining ground at incredible speed. Vlad sighed and swung the chain to his left with his sword hard. The force of the blow sent the chain flying away, the force pulling Prometheus' arm with it. His body leaned to the right, lifting his left leg off the ground. What the hell is going on!? Prometheus thought. How does a Human have this much raw power? He's almost as strong as I am! Vlad dashed towards Prometheus. As he got close, he thrust his left sword towards the off-kilter Prometheus' chest. He managed to get his left arm in front of the blow, but it never came. Vlad paused his strike and stepped forward with his right leg, his right arm stretched back over his shoulder. Vlad swung forward, unleashing a massive overhead slash towards Prometheus' unprotected left ribs. Prometheus pulled his left arm back just in time to absorb the blow. The blow did not cease; the force of the strike slammed Prometheus into the ground, caving the floor in below him. Cracks spread through the floor from the point of impact, and kicked-up dust flew away. Prometheus' lungs were emptied of air from the attack. Vlad saw his chance. He quickly stepped over his opponent and firmly stepped down on Prometheus' right chain. Prometheus caught a quick glimpse of his opponent; both arms raised, both swords in a reverse grip. Vlad stabbed down with his right hand first. Prometheus tried to pull his right chain out from under his opponent's foot. It did not budge. This shouldn't be happening! Prometheus screamed internally. He parried the first stab with his left arm. Vlad stabbed again. Prometheus parried it away to his left, the blade piercing the ground. Vlad did not let up. He continued to stab away at his impaired opponent. Prometheus continued to parry each blow away, his left chain beginning to glow. Despite his massive frame, it became apparent that his speed and skill could not be ignored. Vlad could feel it each time he swatted away the chains. Each chain had to weigh several hundred kilos. The fact that he could not only use them as a weapon but also as makeshift armor required Vlad to start taking more pragmatic actions alongside the game's rules, including ensnarement. Prometheus took his chance; he parried a right stab to his left. Just as Vlad started to pull back his attack, Vlad twisted to his right and threw a left hook. Vlad could hear the chain sizzle as it came near him. Vlad twisted his torso to the right to get his body out of the way of the blow.
Just as Prometheus hoped for. The chain's dingy gray flooded back. The heat vanished. Vlad was grazed by cold, heavy metal. The chain under his foot erupted with light and heat. He could not remove his foot in time. An explosion erupted right under his foot, sending him up and back into the air. The force of the blast pushed Prometheus into a roll, enabling him to take the momentum and get back to his feet and whip his right arm out. He swung it down and up, sending the chain careening towards an airborne Vlad. Vlad knocked the chain down before it could connect. Suddenly, a heavy blow struck Vlad square and sent him down to the ground. The ground caved in where he landed, and he lay there, lifeless. "What a blow! Prometheus, despite falling on the back foot, regained his momentum and dealt a powerful blow to Vlad!"
Prometheus took a quick second to survey the arena. Something felt off. Despite putting more power into that last blow, it felt weaker than the others. He checked the floor, the columns, the throne, and the magma river. He would check back in on Vlad in between each spot to ensure he had yet moved. It was when he looked up at the ceiling that he realized what was going on. Above them, glowing dimly against the dark stone, were letters and numbers;
Prometheus 40%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 60%
"You've got to be kidding me…that's what's going on?" Prometheus asked himself. "How is he higher than me?"
It did not occur to Set or Prometheus at the time that Storytelling was chosen. While Set decided it was necessary to have it happen earlier, one of the few reasons he moved it earlier was because of the situation. Humanity had already begun to show its mettle by nearly killing all of their opponents, with two succeeding. The psychological damage was already done not only amongst the Fighters, but the audience as well. The subconscious fear of Humanity surpassing the Gods and continuing to kill Heaven's chosen experts began to grow with each round. Baldr and Futsunushi's deaths further proved this. Myrddin entered into the realm of the Gods and used their power against them, nearly incinerating Nuada. What else could they do? How strong was Vlad in comparison? Was he as dangerous as the others? These questions ate and gnawed at the Gods sitting in the audience, and it was all going according to Brunhilde's plan. "Vlad!" Geirölul said. "Are you okay!?"
Vlad's eyes opened. He lifted his head and looked over to Prometheus, their eyes meeting. Vlad quickly looked up to the ceiling and back down. He got back up to his feet and stabbed his swords into the ground. He proceeded to dust off his armor and rolled his neck, making a few popping noises. He rolled his shoulders next and did something so heinous it made even Zeus laugh.
He yawned again. He yawned just as loudly and blatantly as before. "I'm fine, Geirölul. Just bored. He's the one that God from earlier was so hellbent on fighting? Why?"
"Again!?" Prometheus hissed. "Do you know who I am!? I gave Humanity the one thing that saved them from the cold of night, and on which they built the foundations of civilization! What did you give them? Why stand in the way of the one person who can save them!?" Vlad was not paying him any attention. Most of what Prometheus said went in one ear and out the other.
"I also forgot to ask. If what he's saying is true, why isn't he fighting for Humanity?"
"What?" Geirölul asked, dumbstruck. Vlad began to circle Prometheus, keeping his eyes on the Titan as he walked.
"Why isn't he fighting for Humanity? If he's supposed to be some champion for your cause, your sister would have done everything she could to get him on her side. Judging by how that God from earlier acted, he would have been a far better candidate than I."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because the reason plays a part in how the next exchange goes… I need motivation." Geirölul sighed. She knew Vlad's personality was off-center, but that his motivation was this fickle as well did not get mentioned by Hilde.
"The guy's a shitty manipulator. He likes to act like everyone's savior or friend but he's just a damn user. He leeches onto whoever he thinks will get him the better deal without a shred of remorse. I heard he even sold out one of the last few Titans and got him killed by Zagreus. No loyalty, no love. Just a –"
"Damn user."
"Exactly." The words bumped around in Vlad's mind, awakening old memories. The halls of his father's castle, the banquets, and the fields and hills of his old home. He remembered everyone: his family, the nobles who circled them, the ones who took him and Radu away from his father. He recalled their talks of trust and camaraderie, loyalty to their banner, and most importantly, their people. How hollow they all were. His father's loyalty and dedication caused his imprisonment. Their loyalty to their own lives compelled them to kill their father and older brothers. Their banners, nothing more than tablecloths to be covered in food plates, wine cups, and stains. He recalled his return and how quickly their posturing fell away as they were held down and impaled. How easily the facades all faded as they were displayed for all the world to see. How empty they were, and how empty Prometheus is.
"Vlad," Prometheus said as he began to walk, circling the area from the opposite end. "I seek to save your people, yet you cannot bring yourself to step out of the way. Why? They don't owe you anything. You're here as the 'Villain' of Humanity. Not for betraying them to a better group of people like me. You're here because they hate you. They hate the idea of you, and the fact that you're fighting for them makes their skin crawl. Look at the numbers above us; the fact that yours is higher proves that. Why even bother fighting for them?"
Vlad pondered for a second on his words. Would now be the best time to say it? Maybe, maybe not. However, the fact that he held the advantage meant Prometheus was right, and he needed to prove it to maintain it. "I don't fight for Humanity. Nothing Humanity gave me is worth fighting for and dying again, except this." He pointed to his chest.
"Yourself?"
Vlad laughed. "No. If you can't understand the answer, then you're wasting your time asking."
Vlad smiled smugly. Prometheus leered at him. "Pointless talking to you as always."
"Oh, I forgot. I got some real good motivation for you, Vlad." Geirölul said.
"What is it?" Vlad asked.
"What did he mean, Hilde?" Göll asked.
"I'm not sure, but it might have something to do with his ability to see a soul's essence."
"Wait, what?"
"It sounds odd, but Vlad is an anomaly among Humans because he was born able to see the soul. To him, people are the makings of their souls rather than anything they present on the surface." She scratched her head and sighed. "Honestly, it makes him hard to deal with, because you can't hide anything from him. That's why Geirölul is the best Valkyrie to pair him with; forthright, candid, and proud as her name's meaning "One who Advances with a Spear." Amongst us, I doubt there's anyone who shines as bright as she does in his eyes."
"Wonder what souls look like to him. Maybe like their owners?"
"Not sure. All I know is he has a standard for souls. The brighter they are, the more he sees them as people. The darker…then they're nothing different from bugs to be crushed under a heel. The soul in front of him is the darkest one I can think of."
"Hilde, you keep saying stuff like that about Prometheus. Why do you hate him so much?" Brunhilde went quiet for a moment, the memories of the incident with Prometheus all those millennia ago.
"What the hell are you doing!?" Brunhilde shouted. She stood in a long, ornate hallway opposite Prometheus, his wardrobe of a clean, white robe, sandals, and his clean-shaven face contrasted heavily with his present-day appearance.
"What do you mean, Brunhilde?" Prometheus asked, seemingly confused.
"Don't act ignorant with me! I know what you're trying to pull with Humanity!"
"Frankly, Brunhilde, I don't know what you're talking about. You're also holding me up from meeting with him as scheduled. You know he hates that." Brunhilde crossed her arms and snarled.
"Like he gives a crap about meetings. You and I both know he can't stand bureaucracy." She pointed at him with her right hand, veins popping up on her brow. "You're just trying to hide from me." Prometheus smiled warmly, his expression softening.
"Hilde, I –"
"You do not call me that." Prometheus stopped and held his hands up to admit defeat. Brunhilde dropped her hand to her side, both hands now clenched into fists.
"Fair… after all, that's what Siegfried and your sisters call you. How is he, by the way?"
"Not your damn concern."
"Oh, but it is. You see, Brunhilde, I think you understand why I'm going to talk with Zeus. I'll be blunt; I don't think you and your sisters are competent enough to handle the souls of the departed. Why Zeus trusted you all after the Siegfried fiasco is beyond me, but hey, like you said…" He appeared in front of her, towering over her. "Zeus hates bureaucracy. He needs people like me to help him manage things." His eyes began to glow orange. "You understand?" Brunhilde stared back at him defiantly.
"I understand what you're trying to do. Unlike us, who bring all souls to the afterlife if they were deemed worthy, you want to bring ones you have a vested interest in."
"'Vested interest' in? What do you mean?"
"Simple, you want to sick Humanity on the Gods." Prometheus' eyes widened.
"What?"
"You act like it's some well-kept secret. Guess what? It's not." Prometheus' fists tightened. "Make your move, Prometheus. Zeus won't take our mission from us, and he definitely would never give it to you." Prometheus leaned back and inhaled.
"We shall see. Take care." Prometheus turned around and walked down the hall. Brunhilde stood alone, her fists clenched so tightly they drew blood.
"Did you get anything from that?" Brunhilde asked. She continued to stare down the hall towards Prometheus as a lone figure stepped out from behind a column. Despite the years gone by, Hermes still looked and dressed the same.
"Only a few things. Lord Zeus will be pleased with your efforts." Hermes said.
"Sure, he will. He's just looking for an excuse to fight Prometheus since Poseidon killed Adamas before he could lead his rebellion. Your old man still thinks with his fists."
"True, but things run better that way. Someone like Prometheus…is dangerous for everyone if left in charge of the Humans."
"No doubt about that."
"He tried to take our mission from us, Göll, and use it to build an army of Humans loyal to him and arm them with the Divine Weapons cache the Gods collected from defeating the Titans."
"Oh no…"
"Exactly. He's a power-hungry opportunist, and to him, Humanity is nothing more than a weapon to aim at the Gods…just like he aimed the Gods at the Titans."
Ares felt a vibration from within his cape. He reached into one of the sewn-in pockets, pulling out a tablet. He saw a message notification and opened it. Fear crept in, and he jolted straight up. "Father, I have to go!" He said. Zeus and the others turned to him. The panic in his voice was not unfamiliar, but his worried expression caught them off guard. "I got a message from Apollo. He's with Dio, and he was watching the fights. When Prometheus appeared, Dio began panicking! He's been trying to keep himself calm, and Apollo's helping, but he's starting to lose it!"
Zeus sighed and turned back to the arena. "Go. Keep me updated with his progress." Ares bowed and departed. Hermes turned to his father. "Did you already inform them?"
"I did, Sir. They'll both be here shortly." Hermes said nonchalantly.
"Good. I know they both have a bone to pick with Prometheus as much as I do. Wouldn't be right to leave them out of the fun…unlike somebody I know." Zeus said, stroking his beard. Set tried not to pay attention to the comment, but he worried the comment was a slight jab at him. "Poseidon robbed me of a good time once. He's lucky I forgave him for that!" He said, chuckling.
Set felt the tension leave his body. Why am I doing this to myself? He thought.
"Hermes."
"Yes, Lord Zeus?" Hermes had just picked up a large chocolate bar and began unwrapping it.
"Ares left his snacks. Take his with you when you go." Hermes would never admit it to anyone, not even Zeus or Ares, but he was grateful his fight-loving father had a heart as big as his fist. Compared to his elder brother, Hermes felt obligated to keep his feelings and priorities in check to perform his duties for Zeus. However, family was a different matter entirely, especially when it came to Dionysus. The reaction he had to Prometheus' presence in Ragnarök brought up several questions. Many of them scared Hermes, but a few of them stirred another sentiment. Pure, silent, monster-hiding-beneath-the-tranquil-surface fury. If Prometheus had something to do with Dionysus' condition…"Hermes." Hermes came back to the box, leaving his thoughts behind. "The snacks will go stale."
"…Of course, Lord Zeus." Hermes whipped out a large platter from behind his back, collected the treats, and walked gracefully out of the box. Yama turned to look at the door for a brief moment, then turned his attention back to the arena.
"Zeus, if you wanted Prometheus, I could've let you have your way with him," Yama said.
"I know…but the damned accords prevented it. Can't be going around killing people just because they irritate me."
You said you can't, but that doesn't mean you don't want to. Yama thought.
"He tried to do what?" Vlad asked incredulously.
"Yep. He tried to take our jobs. Guy's always been like that, and Hilde gets nauseated thinking about him. Thinks we're incompetent or some crap like that." Vlad stood in silence as the thought crossed his mind. A familiar emotion began to settle within him. One that rarely appeared, but one that motivated him in his living days to commit all kinds of atrocities.
"Geirölul, I owe you an apology. It seems I failed to take into consideration your feelings on this matter."
"Huh?"
"I'm aware this being in front of us is the source of immense…poor sentiment. However, I failed to understand how much he's slighted you and your sisters. Had I known that…"
"Why does it matter?" Geirölul said. "Guy's a prick to everyone. Not just us."
"True…" Vlad's grip on his swords tightened, his brow furled. His eyes began to dilate as his blood pumped faster and faster through his body, in concert with the burning emotion filling his soul. "…any darkness that seeks to devour light must die, especially ones that I watch over."
The air grew cold as Vlad's aura began to emanate from his raging form. Another darkness sought to eat away at the light that illuminated the bleak world. The glow that enveloped Geirölul, the dim but strong one of Brunhilde, and the bright myriad of stars that existed in the barracks behind him. All were threatened not just by the machinations of the Gods, but by the selfish desires of this Titan. How many of them would have been denied Heaven if he had his way? What would happen to Geirölul and her sisters? What about the few bright, burning lights within the audience? That god earlier glowed brighter than many he met. Would he be threatened by the opportunistic and predatory pitch-black featureless void that stood in front of Vlad? Vlad could not stand it. He could not tolerate it. The same kind of void that devoured his father, mother, and brothers, some of the few lights of his old life, stood in front of him once more. It... Must...Die.
The murderous chill saturated the air. Prometheus felt the hair on his neck stand up. His instincts warned him that the creature in front of him now viewed him as a threat. It was time to fight for real.
Vlad vanished. Prometheus lost sight of him.
What happened!? Prometheus thought. His instincts screamed in his mind. It can't be... He jumped forward, clearing several meters as he heard a large crash behind him. He looked back and saw Vlad staring back at him while his sword impaled the ground. Prometheus blinked, and he was gone again. The screaming returned. Prometheus felt something grasping him from behind. He ducked as a blade flew overhead. He swung around, unfurling his right chain and swinging it. Vlad stood there and swung out his left sword at the chain, swatting it away. He vanished again. "What the hell is going on!?" The feeling returned… in front of him. Vlad stabbed right at Prometheus' chest. Prometheus got his chain-wrapped left arm in front of him just in time to take the blow. He felt the force slam into his chest and knock the wind out of his lungs. His feet lifted off the ground, and he went flying. He sailed and collided into one of the columns, smashing through it like wet bread and bouncing off the wall behind it. Prometheus quickly got to his feet; his instincts compelled him to maintain awareness and ignore pain. He saw Vlad again and immediately ran along the wall away from him. The lava flow was ahead of him, and he did everything he could to avoid looking back. He could not understand what Vlad was doing, but whatever it was, it meant near-certain death. He had to figure out what was going on. Was he teleporting? Stopping time? Nothing like that existed in the realm of human capability…yet. There was a way to potentially figure it out, but it was risky. Is this bastard like Zeus!? As he ran, Prometheus scraped his hand along the columns to his left and dug out some rock. He tossed it into the lava flow and ran into the open, catching Vlad running his way. Prometheus began spinning both his chains, waving the twin twisters around him. He locked eyes with Vlad, and Vlad vanished. Prometheus felt it. The momentum of the chains skipped. Vlad tried to stab him from the side, but one of the chains blocked his attack. Prometheus felt the blow and took a look at the rock in the lava. It was already melting. It may not mean exactly what he thought, but it began to click in his head. "Well, what do you know? I thought Brunhilde was shifty for recruiting a Cambion into her Roster, but I never expected her to enlist someone like you. Who would've thought a monster like you would be a natural Enlightened?" Vlad raised an eyebrow, but regained his focus. He vanished once more.
Enlightened Humans. Within the realm of man exist few but great men and women who, through life's trials and tribulations, attained a level of spiritual awareness and sensitivity that would one day lead them to inner peace and even potentially godhood. Some, like the Buddha, gained their enlightenment through detachment from the world. However, among these Enlightened souls exist a small few who did not gain it during life. Rather, they gained it at the start. These few souls come into the world already exposed to the makings of the soul. All the good… and the bad. As such, without proper guidance, they are almost always twisted and distorted by the world's unvarnished truth. Vlad was one of these souls. His twisted power gave him a view of the souls of all living things. His years of observation and experimenting with it gave him a power few could ever replicate; the power to compel fear. Fear so great and terrible it could cause madness, panic, or even tonic immobility; i.e., fear paralysis. Only darkened souls can be afflicted with it, and the darker the soul, the greater the effect. Prometheus continued his defense, taking in the situation. An unfamiliar foe stood before him. He was used to fighting fire with fire, but fire was not enough now. "Let me show you, Enlightened Beast…a chill that can even freeze crazed monsters like you…" The chains continued to swing and started to glow. However, the air around them neither sizzled nor steamed. Instead, the light they emanated flowed into Prometheus. They glow, then feed. Glow, then feed. The lava behind him began to harden and cool. The floor slowly started to be covered in a thin layer of ice. Vlad continued his efforts to attack Prometheus, but the radius around him was too wild and dangerous to enter. The air continued to cool. Vlad could see his breath now. Prometheus' hair, eyebrows, and stubble began to glow.
"Pagoméni Flóga; The Radiant Sun Rising Over The Frozen Wasteland." Vlad's eyes widened. "By fire or frost, I shall condemn you. Die, wretch."