Zahhak's eyes widened.
"You were too specific earlier. Not a great way to keep people guessing."
Zahhak leered at him. "…That doesn't matter anymore."
Arthur offered the cube.
Zahhak reached out for it.
"Actually…" Arthur pulled it back. "It kind of does."
Zahhak's grip tightened on Ascalon. "Arthur…"
"Why bother bringing up Camelot? My Court? Winchester?"
Zahhak's gaze sharpened.
"Yes, I was in Avalon for a long time, but I doubt you cared about the history of every prisoner. Someone like you? No."
He offered the Cube again.
"You were in my Court, and you knew me, didn't you?"
Zahhak's gaze shifted from Arthur's to the Cube.
"I was, but that was too long ago to mean anything." His left hand twitched.
"Like demanding an ancient birthright?"
Zahhak reached out and grasped the Cube.
"Only Amr would say such a thing."
Zahhak looked up at him, their eyes locked.
Zahhak's gaze…softened. "He was never a son worthy of you."
Arthur's brow rose. Suddenly, his hand snapped onto Ascalon's shaft and the cube.
"NOW!" He yelled.
A pillar of heat and light shot straight down towards the pair.
Zahhak crouched and charged at Arthur, pushing them to the ground as the blast pierced where they stood and the rift closed behind them.
Metatron gasped as he scanned the sky above, eyeing a pair of metallic wings engulfed in fire, their owner aiming an ornate sniper rifle down below.
"G…Gabriel?" He whispered.
Nearby, the pair rolled to a stop, with Arthur on top. Zahhak tried to pull the tools from him, but could not wrench them free.
He was not this strong before! What happened?! He thought. Wait. "You'd have us both burnt to ash to stop me?!" Zahhak roared.
"Nope! Just you!"
"You…madman!" Zahhak slipped his leg in between their bellies and kicked him off.
Arthur felt his grip slip on the Cube and Ascalon.
Another blast shot down.
Zahhak kipped to his feet and slashed another rift in the air, the blast barely grazing his back, revealing two metal contraptions embedded in his shoulder blades. Black ooze shot out, forming a pair of black cobras.
"That trick worked on Amr, Arthur, but not me! That should've been the biggest clue!"
A third blast flew down.
He jumped through the rift to avoid the blast.
"But I'm fair! I got the Cube thanks to you! Enjoy what time you have left with your half-dead, half-baked Round Table!"
The rift sealed and vanished as another blast passed through where the rift had been.
They shook as his heart accelerated in his chest.
I…I had it…I had the answer to EVERYTHING! Metatron hyperventilated. Epimetheus! Skeggöld! I could finally—
"Aaaah…Damn it all!" Arthur yelled.
"ARTHUR!" Metatron yelled. "Do you know—
Close by, Gabriel landed with a heavy thud.
Metatron paused, staring at his metallic wings as they folded neatly onto Gabriel's back.
He then saw what he wore: a long white coat with orange trim over a metallic vest and matching white shirt. He wore the same dark brown leather pants, golden knee pads, gloves missing the index and middle fingers, and ornate leather boots from his younger days.
His old battle garb.
You are wearing it again?
"I'm sorry, Gabe," Arthur said. "I got your message that he may try something, but I couldn't hold him still long enough."
"It's not your fault," Gabriel answered, looking past him. "These things don't…always go according to plan…"
Metatron instinctively fixed his maroon coat and black button-up shirt.
"Not the time to try and look professional."
Metatron's hand froze by his collar, then dropped.
"But it seems we were successful. Arthur, status update?"
"Wait, hold on," Metatron said.
"Odin's been defeated, but Siegfried, Vidarr, and Michael are too injured to continue. Hades made it here before us, and those three supported him before I finished healing your father."
"You healed him? How?"
"…The Dodecahedron's Realm of Ether can heal even Primordials," Metatron added. "Arthur has been stuck with it since Winchester…and apparently gained an aptitude. But we need to-"
"Keep going, Arthur," Gabriel said.
A vein popped up on Metatron's brow.
Arthur looked warily over him. "…Moving on, he and Sieg went back out and killed Odin. Both Sieg and Vidarr nearly died finishing the job and saving everyone. Your father and I got them stable, and Set departed with them through the Bifrost for Jörð Arena. After they left, Ariel appeared. He threatened the survivors with Ascalon, and we conceded the Cube. He is God-knows-where now."
Gabriel's eyes darted around. "So…Ariel has both the Cube…and Ascalon? Damn it, that may have been why he went to Damavand…"
"Would you quit ignoring me, Gabe?! There is-" Metatron asked.
"No time. We've got to catch Ariel—"
"EXCUSE ME?!"
A titanic wave of force smashed down, flattening the forest around them as splinters and leaves flew in all directions. Gabriel fell to one knee as Arthur fought back and remained standing.
"Do…not…interrupt me…again…Gabriel," Metatron said, his voice deafening the pair.
Gabriel tried to raise the rifle, but he slowly sank down.
Then, the force vanished.
"Get up…and mind your bearing," Metatron said. "I did not teach you to be callous."
Arthur offered Gabriel a hand. He took it and rose, leering at his father.
"Metatron," Arthur said. "Do that again, and see what happens." That's one for Metatron. I cannot believe I have to do this here… He turned to Gabriel as Metatron stared daggers in his back. "He's volatile right now," He whispered. "Let's play this…a
little…easier for now. If he does that again, we will take action. Together."
Gabriel exhaled and nodded.
"Continuing. On the positive side, I was sure we'd lose someone from the rescue party," Arthur
said.
Metatron felt a small sting in his heart.
Gabriel eyed his father, his gaze hardening. "Thank you…for helping them."
He felt his son's eyes boring into his face. "…You are welcome. Any idea where Ariel's going?"
"No…Father…do you?"
Arthur sighed. They really are as bad as Lanslot and Gwalchafed…
"Likely…to the Cradle. He cannot get there via the Bifrost. It can only reach locations within
Space, and it exists outside it."
The rifle flashed and vanished from Gabriel's hands. "He'll figure that out eventually. Only
problem is the Cradle can't be reached without the Cube and Ascalon."
"So…can't you beat him there? Prevent him from reaching the Cradle, or wherever that is,"
Arthur asked.
"The Cradle is the epicenter of Creation, from where the Big Bang started," Metatron said. "Legend has it the One Before All pushed everything outward, causing the burst, then created
us to keep it going."
"There's someone above you?" Arthur asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Questions for later. Gabriel." Metatron extended his hand. "With both tools, Ariel is stronger
than any being in Creation right now, save for me."
"Oh no, you're not going," Gabriel said. "You've done enough damage trying to fix things."
Losing composure, Gabe. Cannot have your father lose control here. One. Arthur thought.
Metatron looked back, then at Arthur, who gave him a knowing look.
"I…I cannot go. I know that."
Gabriel's eyes widened.
"You heard Arthur earlier: Siegfried killed Odin. He did so through a Völund I formed with him.
I have come to believe…I cannot fix this. I could not stop or persuade Odin. Even with the truth of his identity as one of Gollnir's people."
"He…" Gabriel paused. "Who?"
"Velk."'
Gabriel walked over to his father and gripped his shoulder.
"Father…you definitely cannot go. Not after that."
"It…" He felt the words catch briefly in his throat. "It has to be you. If anyone can do it, it is
you. Could I? Yes, but my earlier reaction means I am emotionally compromised. I will make things worse."
"I know, and we will fix your mess."
Two. Arthur counted in his mind. "We?" Arthur asked.
Oy, genius! Geirölul yelled, appearing next to her brother. You think we're dumb enough to go unprepared? She saw her father and froze.
It's a simple tactic, but one we're used to now. Vlad added, appearing next to her. I admit being the one IN the Völund instead of using one takes getting used to.
"A three-part Völund?" Arthur asked. "That's a bit excessive, isn't it?"
Metatron walked over to Gabriel. "It is not," he said. "But more is needed. You and Geir are not as strong as you were before."
Gabriel felt his temper grow. "And whose fault is that?"
Arthur sighed. That's three…
Metatron glowered. "I am aware of my mistake. I do not need another clump of salt in the wound."
Arthur stepped in between them, placed a hand on their shoulders, and gripped tightly. "Gabe, that's three. Change of Command." His fierce gaze dressed them down. "I understand bad blood is present—"
Understatement. Geirölul said under her breath.
"Geir," Arthur said, eyeing her. "Unless you have something to contribute, please refrain."
She looked away and bit her lip.
Gabriel looked away, ashamed, but nodded.
Metatron looked incredulous.
Is…he dressing down MY son? He thought. And Gabriel's not fighting back?
"Metatron, do you mean the restraining bolt?"
"…Yes," He answered, pushing his temper back. "If I remove the bolt, Gabriel and Geirölul will return to their original power and have a fighting chance."
Arthur tightened his grip on Metatron's shoulder. "Remove it immediately."
Gabriel raised his hand. "Hold on. One thing we may need."
Arthur loosened his grip slightly but kept hold.
"Is there any way you can help Vlad ascend higher? His powers may be useful."
Metatron's eyes darted around. "Yes. Based on his current level and the Völund, I can make it happen."
"Then let's get started," Arthur said, stepping back. "Time is of the essence."
Gabriel focused on his father. "You heard him."
"I am not deaf," Metatron retorted. He stepped forward. "But I am a fool, and I need to speak with you and Geir."
"Really? Now?"
"I will be brief, and your sister deserves her moment to speak. She has been…mostly patient."
Gabriel, do it. Vlad spoke. You two need this.
Vlad. Geirölul added. What's the damn point?! He's just going to spout some horse crap.
…I disagree. His light…is growing brighter. It is dim, but warm. Give him a chance.
Ugh…Gabe…just undo it.
Gabriel closed his eyes as light enveloped him and vanished, revealing Vlad and Geirölul standing next to him.
Vlad stepped up beside Arthur, the pair exchanging a nod and a smile.
Metatron, Gabriel, and Geirölul walked a few meters away and stopped, the former turning to face his children.
Here we go. Metatron thought. "Gabe, Geir—"
"Gabe, now?" Geirölul asked.
"I won't stop you."
Geirölul grit her teeth, reared back, and slapped her father across the face.
He froze, shocked by what had just happened. Barely a tinge of pain registered, but the sheer boldness knocked him off-guard.
Gabriel's brow shot up. "Geir! What're you doing?! You said you wanted to talk to him!" He yelled.
Arthur stepped forward. Vlad stepped into his path, blocking him.
He shook his head, and Arthur stepped back.
Metatron's head turned slowly, his attention locking on his daughter.
She reared back and slapped him on the other side.
He barely felt it, but knew her strength when she meant it.
Tears rolled down her face.
"You didn't feel a damn thing from that, did you?! I know you didn't, but that's what you did to all of us!" She yelled. "There's not a thing that excuses what you did!"
Metatron shook his head.
"Do you know what Reginleif did after you left?! She shut away in her room for decades! It took Mist everything she could to get her out of there! Thrud's bullies now had another reason to mock her! And…" Camael, larger than and stronger than the biggest bovine, appeared in her mind, lifting an adolescent Geirölul off the ground. He tossed her up and caught her as she fell. "…Our family…fucking broke because of you…"
Metatron nodded.
She gritted her teeth. "The fuck's with the silent treatment?! You think letting me hit and yell at you fixes things?! Yell at me like Gabe, you coward!"
Metatron stared her down. "No. I know better. You are not your brothers or sisters. You are prepared to fight an unwinnable battle to make a point. I could explain things to you, Gier, until I am blue in the face. But none of it is enough. I can only prepare you both for what is next."
Geirölul's scowl started fading. "Stop…stop acting like that."
Metatron blinked rapidly. "Like what?"
"Like you're okay with this! If you're still you, you should be begging to come home!"
"I lost that privilege the moment I left."
"Says who?! Hilde?! Hrist?! Do they even know you're alive?!"
Well, this will not go well. He thought. "I met with everyone, save Alvitr, earlier at the chapel. Romulus, Georgios, and Siegfried were there, too."
A vein popped up on her brow below her red hair. G…you better explain yourself. She thought.
"After I leave here, I will go to Jörð Arena and meet with your sister. How I will find Cam, Uri, and Raph…I am not sure."
"Those two nuts are with the others, and Raph's at Aetna," Gabriel added.
Metatron exhaled. "That saves me the trouble..."
"And then what? Leave again?" Geirölul said.
"…"
"The hell you're not." She poked his chest. "I don't give a damn what Gabe or Hilde says. You're not leaving again."
"…We can discuss that after this is over."
"We can discusshow you're going to stay home after this is over."
Please do not give me hope, Geir. Metatron thought. "I…I accept your terms. Now, we need to prepare you three for what is ahead."
"We're ready," Gabriel said, stepping next to his sister.
Metatron clapped his hands and closed his eyes. Cyan light emanated from his palms.
"This will sting…" His eyes opened, now pure white and glowing. The world before him vanished into an ocean of shapes of all sizes and colors.
You two…were you to see this, I can only imagine how hard it would be for you two make out anything.
Geirölul and Gabriel stood before him as two figures of tightly bound shapes, the latter with two chunks missing near his shoulders. At the center of their forms, a small black cluster sat frozen and disconnected from the others.
But no matter how long it has been, I could never forget…
Slowly, gently, he reached his glowing hands towards them.
What you two…what everyone…looked like in my hands from your first breaths…
His hands passed through his children's chests. Both struggled to stand from the pain as his hands undid the damage he wrought so long ago.
Geirölul pursed as her hand clamped down on Gabriel's arm. Gabriel shook, but stood firm.
Back in that shape-filled ocean, Metatron moved the cluster, molding it back into something coherent.
"What…what is he doing?" Vlad whispered.
"He is looking at them like the Primordials saw Creation at the start: Shapes of all forms and colors. They placed them in arrays using the Cube as a guide."
"Then…he's doing this blind?"
"No. He's their father. I dare say he could do this blind."
Slowly, light shone from the shapes.
They moved, and finally, came to life as a small black shape dropped into each of Metatron's
palms.
The cluster fell, broke apart, and meshed back with the rest.
Metatron breathed slowly, focusing on his son. He twisted his fist, holding the blackened shape tight. His fist stopped, and more shapes flowed from his arm into his son, filling the two gaps in his body.
He pulled his hands back as the pair dropped. He closed his eyes, then opened them, with
their original color.
He pocketed the shapes. Gently, he reached down and lifted them back to their feet.
"I removed the bolts. You two are back to full form. To find the Cradle, you need to go back to
where I trained you."
The pair breathed deeply, exchanged a glance, and nodded.
"Here." Metatron pulled the two shapes back out. "I do not know what they can be used for,
but I believe they may be useful. Somehow."
Gabriel took them and pocketed them.
"Son."
"What?"
"You...frustrate me beyond reason."
"Where did I learn that from?"
Metatron grumbled. "But…" He breathed deeply. "It…was always because my ego blinded me. Your brothers saw something worthwhile in you. Trusted you. I should have followed their example, and remembered you were chosen as my successor for a reason."
Gabriel's expression softened.
"I should have listened to you then. I will defer to you now and trust your judgment."
"So, you didn't recruit me for Ragnarök to die?"
Metatron paused. You…thought that? Is that the conclusion you came to? "No. I trusted your strength and conviction. I knew you would win in a way you deemed proper."
"If that's what you want me to think…"
"I do. None of the boys frustrated me like you did and still do, but I know it means I have faith in you. You can win this."
Gabriel exhaled sharply and turned back to Arthur and Vlad.
"I designed the Völund to expedite his ascension! The longer you three stay in it, the faster he will reach godhood!"
His son waved back and kept walking.
"Geir."
She scowled at him.
"I will be waiting for your return. I will answer for my crimes and—"
She charged in and wrapped her arms around him.
"Would you please…please…" She teared. "Just shut up already…"
Metatron's arms rose, paused for a second, then returned the hug.
"Hephaestus is gone, Dad…Pan can't do this…I don't…I don't…"
Metatron recalled a small redheaded child that barely reached his hip. How she followed him everywhere, dragging her favorite stuffed Pegasus. How she tried to climb a living one before he put the saddle on, and suffered the indignity of it biting her hair and knocking her back to the ground. How she used to sit in his arms and hug his neck.
They do grow up. Sometimes too fast.
"I feel the same, whether I deserve it or not. Please come back."
She stepped away and walked over to the others. Metatron watched as light enveloped the three, reforming the metallic wings.
Gabriel turned back and nodded. He crouched down and blasted off towards the sky.
Metatron started reaching up, but pulled his hand back.
Arthur walked over to him and gently grabbed his shoulder.
"It's hard watching them go," Arthur said.
"You…" Metatron lowered his head. "You are right. You would think I would be used to it…"
"You're out of practice at the simple things." He patted Metatron's back. "Come on. We need to get back. It's a bit of a trek back to Jörð Arena!"
"Wait. You do not have a shard?"
"Me? Heaven's no. You can't trust me with something so important. The Cube? Maybe. But that? Nooooo."
"But—"
"You also need some time. And space. Too much has happened, and as you are right now, rushing anything further will make things worse."
Metatron ran his hand over his mustache and beard. "You…have a point." The pair turned West and started walking. "Though, to be fair, you are the last person I want to walk with."
"Ha! Maybe. Come on."
"Wait," Metatron said.
"Why?"
Metatron turned back to the distant decimated mountain. He raised his hand and whispered something Arthur could not make out.
He stood there only a few minutes when something flew into the forest, its wings rustling the branches as it came. It entered the clearing and dropped into his palm. He examined what lay in his palm, checking for scratches.
"He may have forgotten it." Metatron turned and showed Arthur the pendant Gungnir. "But I will not."
He draped it over his neck, and the pair departed.
Jörð Arena
Outside the Western Entrance Hall
Thirty Minutes Prior to Metatron and Arthur's Journey
"Sir, are you certain you don't wish for us to join you?" Summanus asked, his storm cloud camo matching his unkempt mustache.
"I'm certain," Romulus answered, standing before the double door, in full camo. He held his blue Scutum Via in his left hand, and a Gladius at his left hip.
He turned around, facing the few dozen Gods and Goddesses in matching uniforms.
"Atten…tion!"
They all scrambled into formation and stood tall.
"My fellow Romans! Today is the day we have waited for!"
Their backs straightened.
"Our brothers and sisters in arms fought these past eleven fights to the bitter end. We have the lead now, and it is time we put an end to this."
"Sir!" They roared in unison.
"You have all followed me this far. From your many homes all over the world to this one spot. I…could not ask for better people to live this life with. Except one."
About to say… Skalmöld said coyly.
"Until my return, Summanus is in charge. Any and all orders he gives have my approval."
He paused.
Then stomped.
"WHO ARE WE?!" He roared.
"WE ARE THEY WHO BUILD THE WALLS WHERE NONE STAND!" One Goddess roared from the back.
"WHERE DO WE GO?!"
"THE UNTRODDEN PATH SO OTHERS MAY FOLLOW UNHINDERED!" One God near the front continued.
"WHO DO WE STAND AGAINST?!"
"THOSE THAT SEEK TO HARM OUR OWN!" Another Goddess yelled.
"WHO…DO WE DO THIS FOR?!"
All the Gods inhaled deeply.
"FOR THOSE WE LOVE!"
"Absolutely," Romulus whispered. "Roman Pantheon! Fall out!"
"Romans!" Summanus roared. "Send him off!"
"SIR!" They roared. They let out a tremendous battle cry that echoed through the hall.
Romulus smiled, turned, and opened the double doors.
Here I come, Lugh.
He passed through the entrance and closed the doors behind him.