Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods (43 page)

A clawed hand falls to the deck.  The falcon shrieks.  It takes to the sky and dives again.  Dumah stabs upward.  The sword hits the bird.  Wounded, it falls to the deck of the ship.  It tries to stand on its one good hand, but fails.

The fighter calmly walks to the malak.  He stabs down with one hand, finishing the malak in an explosion of light. 

Something behind him bellows.  Something large. 

He turns.  Jormungandr, seeking out the only thing in the sky as large as itself, stares down the Muselheim. 

On the ground below Muriel
’s hunt concludes.  “I have you now,” she hisses.  “You overgrown snake.”  She nocks an arrow and raises her bow.

             
The serpent snarls at the ship.  Dumah turns to face it.  “Well,” he says to himself.  “This is no time to be shy.”  He runs to the edge of the ship and leaps off, sailing over Jormungandr’s head.  As he falls, he plants Excalibur in the dragon’s back.  Holding tight, he uses the blade to slow his fall. 

             
The monster bleeds a thin trail of light. 

             
Muriel’s arrow pierces one of Jormungandr’s six wings.  It shakes in the sky.  Dumah nearly loses his grip on the sword, which starts to slide free of the seraph’s body. 

             
Another arrow flies, hitting another wing.  The monster falls to the ground, Dumah with it.  The large body hits the earth, shaking the entire battlefield.  The man rolls off the monster. Lying weak on the ground, he looks up.  A huge beam from Samael hits the Muselheim. 

             
The ship explodes in the sky. 

              On the frosted bridge, Daniel fires rapidly, but precisely.  Draugr continue to fall and malak continue to vanish. 

             
Then the onslaught stops. 

             
Loki looks around.  He is alone.

             
“It seems you’ve lost your army,” the boy taunts calmly.  “This is your last chance.  Give up.” 

             
The seraph seethes.  “I will kill you,” he says slowly. 

             
The giant rushes the bridge.  He is fast.  Appearing above Daniel, he swings his fist down hard.  The gunner uses his weapon to stop the blow.  The fist hits the metal.  His hands sting.

             
He jumps back and fires.  The shot hits Loki’s left shoulder.  Another shot hits Loki’s right shoulder.  The giant seraph is unaffected.  He steps closer.  Daniel fires again.  A small trail of light bleeds from the malak’s chest, but it keeps coming. 

             
Loki punches, knocking Daniel to the ground.  He slides backwards across the slippery rock and flips a switch on his gun.  Loki raises a foot, ready to stomp. 

             
Daniel squeezes the trigger hard.

             
Bullets rain into the giant.  The malak stumbles backwards, slipping on the ice. 

             
The gunshots cease.  Daniel stands.  Loki falls to his knees, light bleeding across his entire body. 

             
The malak suddenly jerks up and resumes his attack. 

             
The gunner pulls the trigger again.  Bullets rain endlessly at the giant.  Loki falls again.  He breathes heavily.  Erratically. 

             
Daniel stands tall, lowering his weapon.  “You will not cross this bridge.”  The malak’s rage growls in his head.  He turns and walks back towards the frosted pass. 

             
His silhouette flashes against the trail in front of him, and the psychic noise from the malak stops dead.

              Thunder crashes.  Lava explodes.  The storm intensifies. 

             
Tentacles hold Joel fast in the air.  He struggles as Leviathan squeezes.  His right arm and Durandal are caught tight in the mess of appendages.

             
The seraph squeezes his head. 

             
Joel bites down on the tentacle.  It twitches, then withdraws.  He twists his neck and bites another.  The monster snapped it back quickly.  The pirate pulls his arm to his face and bites again.  Another tentacle snaps back, flailing wildly in the air.

             
He pulls his arm free and begins to slash.  Leviathan screams its drowning wail again.  It drops the pirate, who falls into a mass of tentacles below him.  He slashes furiously, trying to cut his way out. 

             
The seraph screams louder.  Joel bursts free and flees along a river of lava.  A massive tentacle crashes down in front of him, blocking his path.  He turns.  A huge, squid-like maw drops down on him.  Tentacles push him into the monsters throat. 

             
Leviathan swallows. 

             
Then it chokes.  A blade sticks out of its throat.  The malak convulses.  Joel cuts open a gash in the beast.  The malak convulses, then falls, collapsing into the lava.  The molten rock doesn’t harm it, but the pirate continues to slash from inside.  Water flows into the lava, hissing.  Clouds of steam rise up, burning his skin. 

             
He continues to cut. 

             
After what feels like an eternity, Joel is blinded by a bright flash.  He feels himself fall.  The air grows hot very quickly.  The lava rushes up to meet him. 

             
A beam from Samael slams into the ground, throwing rock and lava in every direction. 

              Ariel swings her spear.

             
Lava flows glow brightly.  It tints the malak a deep red.  The under-lighting casts shadows on their faces.  Lightning flashes.  The malak are white again, then red. 

             
One leaps over a lava stream and charges Ariel.  She swings Gungnir.  It connects with the demon’s head.  The malak stumbles.  She pulls back, then thrusts.  Her opponent twitches once, then explodes. 

             
Two malak leap over the circle of lava—one on each side.  Ariel looks left, then right.  She changes her footing, waiting for one to make a move. 

             
The demon on the right attacks first.  Using Gungnir as a vault, she leaps over its head.  The malak turns.  Both come running.  She braces the spear on the ground.  Both monsters hit, impaling themselves on the spear.  They disappear in a flash of light. 

             
              Electricity cracks, loud and violent.  It’s not the same as the lightning.  Ariel looks up.  More seraphim fly out of the gate. 

             
“My lady!” calls a voice.  She turns.  On the out side of the lava ring, a soldier faces her.  Behind him, a small platoon of wounded men fights back draugr. 

             
“My lady,” he calls again.  “We’ll fend off the draugr.  You take care of the malak.” 

             
“Thank you,” she says.

             
Something behind her snarls.  Something large. 

             
She turns.  A massive shape leaps over the lava, blocking her view of the gate. 

             
Fenrir lands a short distance from her.  Its fur stands on end.  It growls loudly, bearing its teeth. 

             
Thunder crashes.  Lava explodes. 

              The ground is hot and unpleasant.  Dumah gets up slowly.  Excalibur is nearby.  He puts his hand on it. 

             
A painful roar explodes in his ears.  He strugles to his feet.  Standing weakly, he faces Jormungandr.  The serpent stands on the ground, staring at him.  It roars again, bellowing a jet of blue flame into the sky.  It engulfs a passing plane, which speeds to the ground in a molten lump. 

             
Dumah raises his sword. 

             
The seraph thrusts its massive head forward, catching the man by his arm.  The limb slips harmlessly between the teeth, but is immobilized.  Jormungandr raises him into the air, toying with him. 

             
An arrow flies.  It buries itself in the malak’s neck.  The dragon cries out, dropping Dumah.  He hits the ground hard, and stays there.  The huge body pins him to the ground. 

             
The dragon spins around, looking for its attacker.  It sees Muriel, alone in a small field of corpses.  It reaches up and picks the arrow out of its neck, then bellows.  She looses another arrow, which pierces the seraph’s shoulder. 

             
Jaws snap.  Sharp teeth close around Muriel’s torso.  Venom courses through her body, burning her blood.  She instinctively fires another shot.  It hits the monster’s eye.  The beast drops her and rears its head back, howling.

Jormungandr gets ready to pounce. 

From underneath, with his final ounce of strength, Dumah shoves Excalibur into the belly of the dragon.  As it leaps forward, the sword tears a long gash in the malak.  When hits the ground, it immediately rears up on its hind legs, trying to get away from the sharp earth. 

Muriel fires one last arrow into the dragon
’s heart. 

Jormungandr roars loud.  A failing jet of flame rises to meet the lightning.  Thunder echoes across the battlefield. 

The seraph falls backwards, dead.  The battlefield bursts with light.  The storm clouds appear for one moment in perfect light, then disappear. . 

Dumah lays dying on the earth.  Muriel tries to make her way to the wounded general, but the dragon
’s venom is strong.  She doesn’t make it to her tenth step before she falls. 

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Eden

             
The malak’s voice taunts Zeke.  “Your friends are dying, you are wounded, my seraphim continue to flood the battlefield, and I get stronger with each moment.”

             
He turns slowly, hoping the angel will materialize somewhere.  “I’d like to see how strong you’d get if you came out and faced me!” 

             
“Fine,” echoed the voice.  “I’ve had my fun.  Your death is long overdue.”  Light flashes.  Metatron appears. 

             
But something is different. 

             
A strange light emanates from the angel.  His body seems to float upwards in the void.  He draws his limbs in tight.  A sphere of light spins around him.  Suddenly, the sphere explodes, knocking Zeke backwards. 

             
A new demon hovers in the darkness.  He gently flaps six feathery wings.  Four arms grow from his side, each holding a sword.  His eyes are hollow.  His hair is long and white, and he now has a long beard.  The hair flows around his head, as if he were suspended in water.  Horns protrude from beneath his mane.  His body is covered in silver plate mail. 

             
Zeke attacks first. 

             
Four swords cross effortlessly, blocking his slash.  Metatron counters.  Zeke matches his attacks, blow for blow.  He swings madly in retaliation. 

             
Neither fighter gains any ground. 

             
Zeke leaps high over the flying malak’s head.  He slices the tip of one wing on the way down.  In the airless ether, Metatron does not lose his balance. 

             
The angel’s wings let him turn with divine speed.  He raises one hand toward the human, shooting a blast of blue energy.  Zeke blocks with his sword.  The bolt hits him hard, but he resists and does not fall. 

             
Sharp teeth for a mouse.
The voice wells up psychically in his head.

             
He darts toward the angel, but Metatron slides quickly to one side.  Zeke turns and attacks, but the malak’s swords are ready to block.  The two warriors match blows evenly.  After several minutes, Zeke nicks another wing.  Metatron roars, balling his hand into a fist around one sword. He punches hard.  Zeke stumbles back. 

             
Demonic wings contract, pulling the divine being higher, where he floats in one place.  His swords vanish.  He places his four hands together in a square, and closes his hollow eyes.  A massive bolt fires down from the square.  It hits Zeke, knocking him down.  Metatron raises one hand above his head.  Floating centimeters above it, a ball of blue energy swirls into existence.  When it is several times the size of the angel’s head, he hurls it down. 

             
Zeke swings his sword, dispelling the ball back into the ether.  He leaps to his feet.  “Come down here and fight me!”  Jumping high into the air, he swings his sword, cutting one of Metatron’s wings clean off. 

             
The malak loses his balance and drops to the ground. 
That was a mistake, mouse
.  Metatron’s blades glow blue. 

             
He attacks. 

             
Zeke defends as best he can, but the malak’s soul is powerful.  Each attack saps his strength.  The onslaught gradually wears on him down. 

             
A massive sword strikes forcefully.  Zeke raises his own weapon, straining against the force of the blow.  Another strike.  He strains harder.  Another strike.  He drops the katana.  Another blade slashes Zeke across the chest. 

             
He screams and falls to his knees.

              The air is hot.  The soldiers are tired.  Hurt. 

             
Still, they fight. 

             
Running out of ammunition, they defend Ariel to their last shot.  Their last breath.  They take down as many draugr as their lives will allow. 

             
But the monsters keep coming. 

             
Suddenly, gunfire comes from another direction.  A long stream from an automatic weapon fells entire ranks of draugr.  Masses of beasts fall. 

             
Daniel breaks through and joins the other fighters.  “Where are the malak?”

             
A soldier with a wounded arm replies, “Behind us.  Lady Ariel is fighting them now.”  The man raises his rifle with one hand and fires unsteadily into the thinning ranks of monsters. 

             
“Ariel?”  Daniel is suddenly very worried. 

              The storm rages on.  The battlefield glows bright red.  The flowing lava casts moving shadows.  The wind blows hard.  Gunshots echo.  Monsters and humans run wildly in every direction. 

             
But Ariel and Fenrir remain still.  They eye each other up.  The demon wolf growls.  The battle goddess glares silently.  She digs the end of the spear into the ground and holds the tip out defensively. 

             
The battle grows louder.  Samael hits the earth with another blast.  Lava sprays in the aftermath.  Thunder crashes.  The gate cracks.  The dog barks louder. 

             
Ariel holds her ground. 

             
There is a bright flash.  The seraph jumps.  Ariel braces herself. 

             
Fenrir impales itself on Gungnir.  It continues to bark ferociously.  The spear digs deep.  The dog fights its way up the shaft.  To Ariel. 

             
Its jaws find her neck. 

             
The malak scratches and bites.  She resists the pain, thrusting the staff deeper into the wolf.  Fenrir jerks and convulses, but continues his attack, unrelenting. 

             
Blood runs down her body.  It drips down her arms.  Her grip on Gungnir loosens.  She readjusts her hands quickly, hoping to improve her grip.

             
Summoning one last burst of strength., she lifts the spear, wolf and all, off the ground.  Then she drives Gungnir’s tip hard into the ground, pinning Fenrir to the earth. 

             
The dog struggles.  Ariel kicks its head.  It yelps.  She pushes the spear deeper into the earth.  Fenrir whines. 

             
Then explodes. 

             
Ariel falls weakly. 

             
A voice calls out to her.  Daniel leaps over the lava and rushes to her body.  Soldiers follow, firing back at the pursuing draugr. 

              Zeke kneels in the void, breathing erratically. 

             
Metatron stands above him.  His deep voice speaks psychically. 
The death of a mouse.  Hardly worth mentioning.  I think I’ll show you one last image of your friends’ deaths before I grant you your own.

             
He turns smoothly away and begins to conjure another image.  Zeke struggles to get to his feet, pressing his arms to his chest.  Keeping his life from dripping away.

Then a voice speaks to him.  It wells up in his head, but this voice is not Metatron
’s. 

             
Zeke, remember!  You have his power, too! 

             
He sees no one but Metatron.  But the voice is unmistakable. 

             
Micah. 

             
Zeke,
he calls again
.  Remember your power.  He was supposed to bow to
you
!

             
Suddenly, he understands everything.  Micah’s purpose for him.  Why Metatron couldn’t absorb him so long ago.  The divine powers absorbed from the angel during their last battle. 

             
He knows what he must do.

             
Zeke raises a finger to the gash on his chest, remembering a wound healed long ago.  Ages ago.  An entire lifetime.  He draws a finger down the gash, remembering how Metatron did it in Pusan.  The flesh burns shut. 

             
He stands. 

             
The angel turns, his image taking shape behind him. 

             
Zeke holds out his sword.  He stabs the angel in the chest.  Metatron stumbles back, impaled on the blade. 
You can’t defeat me,
comes his fearless, but flat voice. 
You would have to slay all the parts of God at once.  I can’t be killed.

             
“I don’t need to kill you.” 

             
He holds out his hand.  A strong wind starts to blow through the void.

             
“What is this?”  The angel’s voice is no longer psychic.  No longer fearless.  His body becomes pale.  Thin.  Stretched.  He roars out in pain.  Then he explodes.

             
Not in a burst of light, but into a hazy mist. 

              Soldiers rally around Ariel’s body.  Monsters close in on all sides.  The fighters fend off draugr, hitting them with empty rifles.  Daniel fires ceaselessly at the oncoming malak. 

             
The monsters hiss and scream excitedly.  Soldiers fall.  Draugr leap on their bodies, poking, prodding, biting and licking, trying to devour every last drop of blood. 

             
Suddenly, it all stops. 

             
The malak and the draugr shake violently.  They howl in pain.  Their bodies stretch, then burst into mist.  The cloud rises in the air, mixing with the volcanic ash. 

              Samael inhales, readying another blast. 

             
Then his breath stops, shallow.  His solar-sized body contorts in pain.  He screams in the void of space. 

             
The Destroyer explodes, shattering into a massive cloud of mist.

             
The cloud streams toward Earth.

              The wind on the battlefield picks up.  Monsters everywhere explode.  Draugr lift off the ground.  Malak melt into nothing.  Dragons vanish from the sky.

             
Soldiers stand up, relieved, but cautious.  They look around.  The cloud begins to recede into the gate. 

              Ethereal wind blows violently.  Zeke stands firm, unaffected.  Mist materializes around him.  It enters his body from every direction.  He stands with his arms out, absorbing every bit of it. 

             
Taking the hosts of God into his own being.

             
After a long time, it stops.  Metatron and the mist are gone.  Zeke’s body goes stiff.

              Soldiers watch as the gate inhales the remains of the monsters until nothing is left.  The dark, stormy sphere collapses in on itself until it vanishes from sight. 

             
Then it explodes violently, sending a shockwave through the battlefield.  The handful of jets that are still airborne are thrown off balance.  Soldiers on the ground dive for cover.  Others don’t make it and fall. 

             
Everyone braces themselves against the blast for several minutes. 

             
Then the force stops. 

             
The storm continues, but less violently than before.  It slowly begins to die. 

             
Daniel stands at the center of a ring of soldiers and cooling lava.  He looks up.  The gate is gone.  “Zeke . . .” 

              Zeke sat up. 

             
He looked around.  He was still in the ethereal plane.  Stars surrounded him in every direction, and he sat on an invisible surface.  He held out his hand, feeling dazed.  The motion left a blur behind it.  His limb seemed to change form for several moments, then it settled back into its original shape. 

             
“You’re the caretaker now.  You’ve got quite a responsibility to face,” came a voice.  He couldn’t make out who was speaking.  He turned.  A figure stood behind him, staring off into the void. 

             
“Metatron?”  He took a few steps closer.  No.  It wasn’t even a malak.  It was a human. 

             
Micah.

             
He was dressed in a plain, grey pinstripe suit.  It seemed very much unlike him, but perhaps it was very much in character for the Karellan.