Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods (42 page)

              The human and the malak circle each other in the darkness. 

             
Metatron taunts his opponent.  “How do you expect to win?  I don’t need the stronger army.  I can destroy your entire planet.” 

             
“You’re insane.”

             
“Sanity is a human condition.  This is my purpose.  This is why I exist.”

             
“You were human once.”

             
“Chains I broke long ago,” sneered the angel. 

             
“You’ll never win.” 

             
“I already have.” 

             
“I’ll take you down myself,” Zeke says confidently. 

             
Metatron drops his swords.  Instead of hitting the invisible ground, they fall away into the void.  “Go ahead.” 

             
Zeke attacks, running.  The angel dodges the attack easily.  He grabs the sword by the blade and holds tight.  The angel spins quickly, hoping to throw his opponent off balance. 

             
But Zeke holds fast. 

             
Metatron kicks.  Both man and sword go flying.  They land a short distance away.  The angel’s hands bleed light. 

             
“You’re hurt,” Zeke observes. 

             
He raises a ghostly eyebrow.  “Am I?”  He clenches his fists tight, then opens them.  He reveals his palms.  The wounds are healed. 

             
The swordsman doesn’t stop to marvel.  He jumps to his feet and attacks again.  Metatron leaps out of the way with skillful speed.  He retaliates with a punch.  Zeke ducks.  He spins, bringing his sword up fast.  The malak claps his hands over the blade.  It stops, held fast.  Zeke’s side is exposed.  Metatron kicks him hard.  His body bends painfully.  He falls.  His sword tumbles beside him. 

             
“Frostbane was wrong,” Metatron laughs.  “You never would have been strong enough.  You can’t even defeat me now.” 

             
Zeke hides his pain.  “You haven’t killed
me
, either.” 

             
“I don’t need to.  You are powerless here.  I am invincible.  Go ahead.  I’ll give you a free shot.”  Metatron opens his arms wide and waits. 

             
Zeke gets to his feet, picking up his sword.  He takes the shot.  Metatron stands still.  The blade pierces the angel’s heart.  The starry void bursts with light.

             
Immediately, he hears Metatron’s deep voice laughing.  Behind him. 

             
He turns.  The demon stands, arms crossed.  He stabs again.  Another explosion.  “Above you.”  Zeke looks up.  Metatron falls toward him fast.  He jumps to meet him, swinging his sword.  The void bursts with light again. 

             
The angel’s voice comes through the darkness.  “This is the world of the dead.  You can’t kill me here.  Now look.  I have one more act for this two-bit vaudeville show.  Do you want to see the power of the seraphim?” 

             
An image appears in front of him. 

              A huge beam from Samael hits the earth.  It leaves a gaping hole.  In the distance, lava shoots from another hole.  The battlefield has a distinct red tint.  In the heat, thin clouds form. 

             
The gate cracks, although in the din, no one notices.  Small points of white light fly out.  One point seeks out a dragon.  The beast evades pursuing fighter jets, but the light is too fast for it.  It hits the dragon, burrowing deep into its chest. 

             
The monster glows white, like a malak. 

             
The dragon loses its balance and falls into another dragon.  The two beasts merge.  Their masses combine.  They both glow white.  Their form tumbles into another dragon.  Then another.  And another.  The white mass explodes into being.  It takes the form of a massive serpent, with a long body and six wings.  The monster stretches out in the sky, dwarfing everything around it. 

             
Jormungandr, The Malak of Dragons, hovers over the battlefield, looking for prey. 

             
Another point of light speeds for the sea.  It evades a beam from Samael.  The shot hits the ocean, cracking the ice.  Lava shoots up.  Steam hisses.  The point of light slams down into the depths.  A moment later, water, ice, and steam explode up from the sea.  Huge tentacles pull a massive sea monster above the surface. 

             
Leviathan, Malak of the Ocean, climbs onto shore. 

              Gunshots echo off the mountain slopes.  Draugr tumble into the chasm.  Their bodies carpet the mountainside.  Malak explode like fireworks. 

             
The assault lightens for a moment.  Daniel lowers his gun.  “You will not see the other side of this mountain.”

             
“Like hell we won’t!” bellows Lucifer.  “We are seraph warriors!  No human can . . .” 

             
Crack!

             
Daniel’s gun thunders.  A hole appears in Lucifer’s head.  He goes weak, limp.  Then he explodes in an exceptionally bright flash. 

             
The gunner speaks to Loki.  “You have lost half your ranks and one of your generals.  You haven’t even scratched me.  Give up.” 

             
The giant malak growls.  “You will have to lower your guard eventually.”  He raises his fist high into the air.  “Attack!” 

             
Monsters rush at Daniel.  He fires rapidly.

              Dumah’s platoon grows thin.  The Muselheim’s guns continue to fight off the dragons and their malak riders, but many still land on the ship.  Reinforcements have been called, but most of their forces are on the ground.

             
The ones atop the ship can’t hold out forever. 

             
The general however, is tireless.  His soldiers fire into a dragon’s wings.  The monster bellows fire at them.  They scatter.  Dumah rushes the beast.  It swings its claws, but he ducks and they pass over his head.  Standing up, he hacks at the dragon’s neck.  The powerful sword cuts easily through the beast. 

             
A strong gust of wind sweeps across the ship.  Dumah struggles to keep his footing.  Fallen soldiers and pieces of dragons slide off the deck.  A voice wells up from inside his head. 
Turn and face me.

             
He turns.  Standing on the far edge of the ship is a giant hawk, easily as big as three men.  Its wings are spread out.  Its talons claw into the steel hull.  The entire creature is a pale white. 

             
A malak. 

             
I am Thunderbird, the Falcon Malak,
came the voice. 
Face me, human.

             
Dumah raises Excalibur, holding tight with both hands.  Thunderbird flaps its wings, rising into the air. 

             
It dives. 

              Jormungandr writhes through the sky.  Blue flame spews from its mouth.  It rages against the fighter jets.  Planes melt.  Pilots incinerate.  The seraph roars.  It looks down.  Below him, soldiers scatter.  Draugr run in fear.  But one man stands his ground.  He faces the giant malak, wielding a heavy war hammer. 

             
Amused with the miniscule challenger, the serpent dives. 

             
Gabriel attacks.  Mjollnir comes down hard, but the attack is too small.  It crushes a talon and the seraph continues unhindered.  It lands, snatching its tiny challenger off the ground. 

             
The warrior struggles.  The seraph lifts him close to its face, curiously examining the dragon scale armor.  Gabriel brings the hammer down between the malak’s eyes.  Jormungandr screams and drops him. 

             
An arrow flies.  It grazes the serpent’s ear.  The beast swings its head around, searching for the archer.  As the huge neck passes by, Gabriel leaps.  He grabs hold of the beast’s mane and climbs up toward the head. 

             
Mjollnir strikes. 

             
The massive seraph stumbles.  It takes a few awkward steps.  Gabriel strikes again.  Jormungandr jerks its head, throwing the man to the ground.  With a massive foot, it crushes him into the ground, impaling him on its claws. 

             
Nearby, Muriel watches in horror.  The serpent tosses her father into the air and catches him in its jaws.  Before she can fire her next shot, the monster swallows and leaps into the sky. 

             
She watches it fly away, then follows it on foot.

              A band of pirates fight an oncoming hoard of monsters.  The draugr fall easily enough, but the malak are plentiful.  Joel can’t fight them all at once. 

             
They lose ground.  The malak push them back.  To their left, a stream of lava impedes their escape.  To their right, a blast from the Destroyer plants a new hole in the earth.  Their only option is to flee toward the ice. 

             
A gurgling roar resounds. 

             
Joel turns to see Leviathan crawling out of the sea.  Tentacles flail.  Lava bursts up from the new hole.  Ash and steam fill the air.  Lightning shoots from the unnatural cloud.  The thunder follows instantly. 

             
Carried by countless tentacles, Leviathan rushes toward the battle.  The pirates flee.  Joel leaps into the mess of appendages, hacking wildly.  The seraph screams.  Its roar is strained and wet. 

             
A tentacle coils around Joel’s waist.  It begins to lift, but Durandal severs it clean.  The pirate falls back to the ground. 

The monster lowers a squid-like head to inspect its opponent.  Joel stabs it in the eye.  The slimy head snaps back in pain.  The sword sticks fast.  The motion throws him and his sword into the air. 

His trajectory is broken when a tentacle shoots up and grabs him. 

Ariel fights off the malak.  Gungnir spins like a helicopter blade.  Lava flows in rivers nearby.  Thunder cracks.  Wind blows.  Malak after malak rush at her.  Each one explodes as she hits them.  Draugr attempt to fight closer, but a band of soldiers fend them off. 

One of the soldiers looks up. 
“Look out!” he screams.

Ariel looks up.  A large bolt of energy is careening toward their heads.  She grips the spear.  She feels it in her hands, telling her what to do.  She transfers the javelin to her right hand, pulls it back over her shoulder, and hurls it high into the sky. 

It flies. 

The bolt and the weapon connect.  The magical energy disperses.  Smaller beams shoot off at angles, burying themselves in a small circle, safely outside the range of the soldiers.  The trenches are shallow, but the flowing lava soon fills them.  Gungnir lands nearby, its head buried in the dirt.  Ariel plucks it out of the ground. 

Draugr leap. 

Ariel thrusts the spear. 

High on the mountain slopes, a wild dog sits on its haunches.  This land is strange to him.  There is very little food nearby, but so much seems to be happening in this one spot.  He sits and watches curiously.  Storms rage.  Lava explodes.  Gunshots ring. 

But the dog sits safely on the mountain. 

Something approaches.  It
’s small, but bright.  It is very interesting, and the dog watches it closely.  It dances back and forth on the breeze.  Then it settles a short distance from his face. 

The animal barks cheerfully. 

Suddenly, the light slams into its chest.  The force pushes the dog back.  It rolls across the rocks.  It yelps and whines.  It can feel his body stretch.  Its muscles tighten.  Its fangs grow.  It begins to glow a soft white.

The dog fights the pain.

It rolls back and forth, trying to shake the painful light.  Instead, it falls behind a large boulder. 

The whining stops. 

A moment later, a huge beast, Fenrir, the Wolf Malak, hops up onto the rock.  It instantly spies the battle.  It thirsts for blood.  For war. 

It howls, then rushes down the mountain. 

Thunderbird dives.  Dumah raises his sword in defense.  The seraph hits the blade.  It cuts the malak, and the weight knocks him off his feet.  They roll across the observation deck. 

The hawk leaps into the air.  Dumah stands, wiping blood from his face.  The malak dives again.  It catches him from behind, sinking talons into his shoulder.  He cries out and swings Excalibur.