The Final Saga part 113: Between the Gray
By d_Galloway
Weiila’s angelic doppleganger was the first to speak. “Hello…Weiila.”
Weiila took a few steps back, eyeing the suspicious stranger every inch of the way. Her lips were quivering, every inch of her body shaking uncontrollably. Before, she was scared; now, she was filled with nothing but terror. “You…stay away…”
Anja stood in place, her cold, impersonal gaze seemingly piercing into Weiila’s soul, and at the same time reflecting what it saw. “You knew this day would come. We have been two souls, sharing the same body. This can no longer continue. For the sake of-”
“Fuck the speeches!” shouted Weiila. “I’m not letting you take over! This is my body!”
Anja raised a single hand, pointing her index finger right between Weiila’s eyes. “No…it is <i>our</i> body. I wanted to experience the mortal world. Ilmatar had me sent back, to when you were conceived. You were created specifically to suit their purposes, to keep me alive until I was needed. That time is now…”
“No, no, no!” shouted Weiila. “I’m not buying that bullshit! I may have been you once, but that was a LONG time ago! I’m-”
Anja suddenly flew forward, grabbing Weiila from the shoulders. The angel made a move to pull loose, but suddenly stopped, feeling a strange comfort from the touch. “RPGC is not the only place in danger today. Your world is not the only world in danger. Only you can end this conflict. But you cannot do this unless you face the grim reality. You must embrace what you…”
Weiila shook her head. “Just save it, okay.” She looked away from the figure, contemplating her severe situation. On the one hand, she knew this was the only way to save everyone, to stop the war, to bring Naar down. Besides, it wouldn’t be technically like dying; after all, this <i>was</i> who she really is, on the inside. But, if she indulged in this power, used it beyond the parameters of even gifted white magic usage, would she be…
“Just…promise me something,” she muttered. “Don’t let this hurt.”
Finally, after several minutes of bloodshed and carnage, the last member of RPGC fell, cleaved right between the eyes by a man-sized battle-axe. A roar of triumph erupted from the victorious Norse Gods; at last, they had achieved a total victory over the very forces that threatened their existence.
Meanwhile, from the rafters, Mox watched the spectacle, his expression a mixture of surprise, regret, and a sick sense of joy. Then he saw that two…particular members were not amongst the heaping piles of dead. “Fuck, there goes my revenge,” he whispered. Pulling himself against the wall, he slid back into the shadows to wait for his cue. “Oh, well. Business before pleasure, and all that junk.”
A mere second after Weiila had picked up the orb, there was an enormous flash of light, engulfing nearly every inch of the Heavens. Nelimar and Alternate Poke were quickly pushed away from the explosion’s source, barely managing to keep from being blown miles into the distance. When the light finally dissipated, there was total silence for several seconds. Finally, Nel broke the tension with one word:
“Wha-?”
Where Weiila had once been a pitiful child, now stood a far more menacing, more authoratative, more <i>powerful</i> angelic being. Weiila’s old brown dress returned, but was far more low-cut than before, revealing a significant amount of previously unseen skin. Her body was covered with trails of glowing markings, forming a perfect loop down every inch of her form. Her wings were seemingly larger and more fully developed, creating significant gusts with every flap.
The greatest change, however, was with her face. She still <i>looked</i> like Weiila, to be sure, but there was something considerably off. Her eyes, once full of life, were now distant and emotionless, regarding the two before her with a strange sense of inferiority and contempt. Her lips were curled into a permanent scowl, her hands gripped as if holding an invisible weapon. Even her mere presence seemed to exude untold strength; Nel and Alternate Poke were barely able to keep standing in front of her.
Weiila glanced down at her new form, stretching her limbs as if she had just woken from a long sleep. “…Okay, the markings are going first thing.”
Alternate Poke stammered. “Weiila…My god, what happened to you?”
Weiila didn’t even look at him when she responded, her voice as cold as her gaze. “I am Anja. I am Weiila. We are one again.” Finally prying herself away from the new look, she saw Wilfredo Martinez’s motionless body. “Martinez…get up. You have a lot of work ahead of you.”
Suddenly, Wil shot to his feet, no evidence of his mortal wounds remaining. “Wh-What the…Weiila! When did THAT happen?!”
Weiila didn’t give any cue that she was even listening; she simply pushed Wil to the side and flew towards Valhalla’s entrance. “It is almost done,” she whispered, apparently to no one in particular. “Now, I have some payback to dispense…”
Odin strode confidently into the blood-soaked hall, his eye glimmering with pride at the gory sight before him. The additional gods and goddesses quickly knelt before him, their bodies covered in severed flesh, entrails, and sinew, their weapons drenched from tip to end with the crimson fluids of their victims. There was nary a scratch on any of his fellows, further hightening his nearly-engulfing pride.
“AT LAST!” he shouted, the halls of Valhalla bellowing under the force of his voice. “The threat is gone! Their deaths will serve as a warning to the other mortals. The old gods are back, and-”
The massive gates of Valhalla, which had been previously sealed to keep anyone from escaping, were suddenly blown clean off their hinges, sending pieces of wood and metal flying in every direction. Even Mox, from his elevated position, had to cover his body to keep from being impaled. The explosion was followed by a sea of light that blinded everyone that could still physically see. Within the field of brightness strode Weiila, her cold gaze melted into a seething rage.
“Wh-Who…” stammered Odin. For the first time in an eternity, he had faced something he <i>didn’t</i> forsee; for the first time, he felt real fear. “What are you, wench?!”
Weiila’s left hand shot up at once, pure energy crackling from her fingertips. A ball of power flew from her palm, crashing into Odin, sending him smashing into the far wall. The force of the blow shook the hall’s foundations, causing pieces of wood, brick, and debris to shake loose and fall from the ceiling and pillars. The other Norse gods and goddesses gathered around their stunned leader, ready to fight this new opponent to the death.
To their surprise, however, she was more focused on the pile of carnage lying at her angelic feet. Her hands and arms were suddenly covered with a bluish light, coupled with what seemed like a disembodied choir singing a Finnish chant. Another wave of light erupted from her very being, and when it dissipated, to the gods’ sheer horror, the RPGCers were alive once more, completely unharmed and ready for battle.
A cruel smirk spread across the angel’s face. “Your move, Odin.”
The king of the norse gods pushed aside his protectors and charged at Weiila. The RPGCers, although alive again, were still too disoriented to intercede, leaving the goddess at her rival’s mercy. To everyone’s surprise, however, it was <i>Weiila</i> that struck the first, and ironically last blow, slamming Odin to the ground with a shoryuken-style uppercut to the chin.
The scene was completely silent, nobody daring to move a muscle for fear of angering the two immortals. “Look at you, Odin. Did you really think the future was yours to see, to command?”
“I never presumed to control the future, whore,” grumbled Odin, slowly pulling himself to his feet. “Fate is fate; it can never be changed or avoided. Or at least, so I thought…”
“Okay…I’m lost,” muttered Yar.
“The visions changed, didn’t they?” said Weiila. “You became aware of changes in the timeline, and exploited them. And you didn’t do it alone…”
All eyes were suddenly cast on Odin, filled with a mixture of confusion, inquiry, judgement, or resentmnet. “It…It is true,” stammared the god. “I knew our death would come not from Ragnarok, but from being forgotten, consigned to a footnote in the history of Midgard. Naar offered a means around this, a way to avoid fate, to slip us outside of the time stream and ensure our continued existence.”
“And…you joined that fiend?” said Lenneth.
“It was a temporary alliance, nothing more!” said Odin. “But it did not work. We escaped our initial destruction, joining the other gods here. Still, the visions did not cease, and I knew I had to MAKE the mortals remember, to instill fear of us-”
Weiila slapped Odin across the face, electing a collective gasp from the entire audience. “That’s why you tricked Robyn? Why you used her as your little chess piece? In Ukko’s name, do you have ANY IDEA OF THE TORTURE YOU HAVE UNLEASHED?!”
“It doesn’t matter,” snapped Odin. “Somehow, you have won. You’ve beaten me at my own game, little angel. Imagine, two immortal souls, finding a way to escape their own deaths.” A small smile crept across the god’s face. “Imagine what we can do together.”
Weiila was about to return the favor, when she suddenly caught something Odin had said. “Two immortal souls, finding a way to escape their own deaths…”
Odin suddenly screamed in pain, as a red blade struck clear through his body and impaled itself on the stone floor. The blade suddenly rose back up, spun about, and raced back towards the rafters, cleaving Odin’s head in half along the way. An all-too-familiar figure grabbed the gore-soaked blade upon its return: Mox. The demon examined the bloodied blade with mock inquisitiveness, before turning his attention back to Weiila. “I hope I wasn’t acting out of step, my dear! And look, there’s enough room left for YOUR blood, honey!”
THE END OF PART 113
Next time: Wilfredo and Percival face Mox. Meanwhile, Galloway and Lone Wolf babysit two adults. (And no, that last one is NOT something deranged, you sick bastards!)
I boggle when I consider how long you’ve been working on this series, Gallo, and if you feel burned out that’s fully understandable. Still, I really hope that you’ll manage to finish it.