Beyond The Impossible

Deshret, Naqada Galaxy

Hermes never really liked the Egyptian gods. They can be useful sometimes, but they’re too formal and slow for his tastes. He’s in the private chambers of Serket, goddess of poisons and scorpions, and by the time he manages to talk about anything concrete they’re at the seventh cup of wine.

<But enough about good things have been for your pantheon lately. How about we organize my audience with Nephthys?> he asks, pausing to empty his cup directly on the floor.

<That’s the seventh cup you waste. Don’t you want to taste my poison? It’s really something special, believe me.> she says, drinking her equally poisoned wine.

Hermes almost admires how much she simply doesn’t care about his reaction. She’s a good-looking goddess, and he would enjoy the challenge of seducing her if the bottom half of her body wasn’t just a scorpion’s tail.

<I’ll drink once you introduce me to Nephthys. If you actually intend to keep your word? Because if this is just a trap, Serket, let me remind you that I’m the god of tricksters.>

<We had a trickster god, once. His name was Set, husband of Nephthys and ruler of this galaxy.>

<I know.>

<Your grandfather Kronos killed him, millions of years ago, and conquered our whole pantheon.>

<Ancient history. You’re not holding this against me, right?> Hermes asks, nervously smiling.

<After Zeus deposed Kronos, Nephthys wanted to reduce your galaxy to ashes as punishment. Isis and Ra convinced her it would be suicide: Zeus and his brothers, Poseidon and Hades, are all Class-1 gods. Nephthys was merely a Class-3 goddess, like you and I.>

<You’re telling me that one of the Nine Gods Who Rule The Universe is just a Class-3!?>

<She was a Class-3. Her sister Isis taught her a trick that elevated her to a Class-1.>

<Now this is interesting. What kind of trick? Just out of professional curiosity, of course.>

<If I knew that, do you think that I would rule a mere sector instead of this whole galaxy?>

<Touché. And I suppose there’s a reason why you’re telling me this?>

<Because I’ve heard rumors about the Olympian Galaxy. About Zeus disappearing and a mortal with the power to kill gods. Even a Class-1 like Tiamat. If they are true, it’s only a matter of time before Nephthys attacks. That will be a war that tears the stars asunder.>

<And let me guess, you want to be on the winning side of the war. Even if it’s the Olympus side.>

<Exactly. If Ilithyia can change her allegiance, why not me?>

<Wait a second… Ilithyia did what!?> Hermes exclaims: it’s not easy to take him by surprise, but he didn’t anticipate this development. Or the sound of someone fighting in the next room.

<What in Atum’s holy name is going on!?> Serket asks, once one of her servants crashes through the marble wall and lands at her feet.

<Guys, I think I found the throne room!> Kari tells her teammates.

<You mortals have the worst timing.> Hermes sighs, casually stepping aside to avoid being hit by one of Quantum’s laser beams.

<Easy there, hotshot. We’re on the same side this time, remember?>

<You were going to let her turn us into mummies!!!>

<An unorthodox approach, I’ll grant you that, but I was getting results, wasn’t I?>

<Enough about him, we have other problems!> Kari shouts, pointing at the locals approaching the throne room. Priests, pilgrims and simple merchants, all with the same vacant expression. All with the same golden eyes, refusing to blink even when Torn uses his energy swords to cut off the heads of the first ones: they all just continue to walk. Even those without a head.

<It’s useless. Once converted, there’s no stopping them.> the Demon says.

<Perhaps for a mortal.> Serket comments dismissively, gesturing towards her worshippers. They slow down, with their limbs shaking and their skin rapidly developing disgusting blisters. It’s all over by the time they’ve taken two steps: every symptom simply vanishes.

<How can you survive my most powerful poison? What is this sacrilege?>

<You are the true sacrilege against our perfection. We are Eden. Death does not concern us.> the Egyptians says, perfectly in unison.

<Now that’s creepy. Anyone has some idea how to deal with them?> Quantum asks.

<You can all just die!> Serket answers, raising her arms: the sand that covers this entire continent obeys her command, engulfing the whole building in a colossal sandstorm.

 

Cape Town, South Africa

Noriko Null wakes up, her silver eyes shining brightly. She’s very disoriented: she doesn’t know where she is, how she got there, or who took off her leather jacket and her boots. All she knows is that she has a headache and that the first person she sees is Daren Bekker.

<Why am I… how did I get on your couch?>

<You teleported into my house. Then you said something about suffering brain damage, asked me to be your boyfriend, and then you fainted.>

<No, that can’t be true. I never faint. I must’ve passed out.>

<What’s the difference?>

<Fainting is for damsels in distress. I am Null. I have no memories of coming here; I didn’t say anything… embarrassing, right?>

<Only that you think I’m really hot. And you insisted you weren’t on drugs. Which, honestly, would be a lot less weird.>

<Yeah, welcome to my life. “It would be less weird if she was on drugs” would make an excellent epitaph. Where are my boots?> she asks, looking around the couch.

<You’re seriously glossing over asking me to be your boyfriend?> Daren asks.

<Look, Daren, I like you, but we went on one date. I’m not the kind of girl who jumps into a relationship that easily, you know? Besides, you probably don’t want anything to do with the crazy girl who sneaks into your house to pass out on your couch.> Noriko explains, reaching for her boots on the floor. Daren is doing the same, and when their hands touch there’s an awkward silence.

<Some guys like the crazy ones.> he says.

<I, uhm, I should probably, you know…> Noriko mumbles, stepping away holding her boots in her arms. Daren takes the leather jacket and hands it over to her, but she shakes her head.

<I’ll come back for it. Say, Friday night, six PM?>

<It’s a date.> he agrees.

<Great! That’s… great. Just don’t touch the pockets, okay? It’ll electrocute you if you try.>

<That’s a joke, right?> Daren asks, watching Noriko being teleported away before she can answer.

He’s left staring at the green leather jacket, which he tosses away like it was poisonous.

<Daren, what did you just get yourself into?> he wonders out loud.

 

Deshret, Naqada Galaxy

Serket is quite pleased with herself. Her palace is completely destroyed, first ravaged by a sandstorm and then literally swallowed by the desert, but she did gain a moment of peace.

<You oversold these mortals, Hermes. They die just as easily as all others.>

<I wouldn’t be so sure. Watch your left.> Hermes warns her, disappearing to avoid being hit by a red energy scythe. Serket not only catches it with one hand, but she uses the other to grab the bolt of lightning that was about to stuck her.

<Interesting. I can see how this would be a threat to lesser gods.> Serket boasts, increasing her size to become a giant. The hand holding the scythe grows big enough to keep Torn inside her fist, and the other hand is not letting Quantum go, no matter how many times he changes form.

<Was this also part of your plan!?> Kari asks Hermes, repeatedly trying to hit him, with no success.

<I like to improvise.> he shrugs.

<Is this why you didn’t want Noriko to come with us? You didn’t want her to kill Serket?>

<Actually, I wanted to have a look at the relic before me.>

<What relic?> Kari asks, watching something emerge from the ground: a man with golden skin, floating towards Serket’s face.

<That relic.> Hermes clarifies, taking a step back.

<You have attacked Eden, immortal heathen. Pray for our mercy.> the golden man says.

<More pests? Naqada will NOT become infested like the Olympian Galaxy!> Serket yells, throwing Quantum and Torn: the former’s energy and the latter’s body pass through the intangible Eden, and even when Serket smashes him between her giant hands he’s completely unaffected.

<No, this galaxy will become our foothold in this universe. DIVINE RETRIBUTION!> the Eden shouts, clasping his hands in prayer. The golden light this emits is so bright that even Hermes has to look away; the others have to do the same also because of the amount of sand thrown in the air. Once they can see again, they can’t believe their eyes: the goddess collapsed.

<Χολγ φουcκηνγ σχητ! Did he just kill her!?> Kari wonders.

<We have not reached that level of perfection yet, but she won’t bother Eden for a while. And since your Demon is not able to fight us, you will understand very soon.> the alien says, floating towards the Vanguard. Kari just noticed that both Torn and Quantum are still unconscious.

<How about some improvisation now?> she asks Hermes.

<No problem. Kiss sunshine for me, won’t you?> the god says, and Kari feels like she’s hit by the strongest wind imaginable. The Eden watches, with the usual blank expression on his face, even when Hermes and the Vanguard completely disappear under his eyes. Together with Serket.

 

Null Tower, New York City

It’s not a gentle landing. Kari hits the wall of the Operations Center with enough force to knock her out of her 10K Rise state; Torn and Quantum seem to be fine, but they’re still out cold.

<I hate to say it, but nice job Hermes. Though I feel like I’ve left my stomach in the other galaxy.> she complains, just in time to see someone else appear: Noriko Null just teleported in, without her leather jacket and holding her boots in her arms.

<Now that’s timing. Looks like you had your fun while we were on a mission!>

Noriko ignores her friend’s joke to focus on the guys: they’re alive, but they’ve seen better days. And a quick glance around the room is all it takes to get her really, really worried:

<Where’s Hermes?> she asks.

 

Naqada Galaxy, 17 million light-years from Earth

Ilihtyia doesn’t like this place. She knows there are beautiful worlds in this galaxy, paradise planets carefully curated for millions of years, but Nephthys lives in a place that makes the Underworld look like Olympus. Ilithyia sits on a golden chair floating above a sea of decaying corpses, holding a silk handkerchief over her nose to block the disgusting smell.

Nephthys is standing on the head of a gigantic snake emerging from the ocean of dead people, with Eris floating next to her.

<That’s… that’s a lot of dead people.> Eris notes, watching the portals scattered across the sky supplying an almost continuous stream of cadavers.

<Every death in this galaxy is a tribute to me. I take care of the bodies, and in return, I am worshipped as the supreme being that I am.> Nephthys explains.

<Every death? Really? This isn’t a small galaxy. How do all the dead people fit on one planet?>

<I have ways to make room.> Nephthys answers, watching another giant snake emerge to the surface only to devour thousands of bodies and submerging again beneath the putrid mass grave.

<Once I conquer the Olympian Galaxy, I will demand all of its corpses. I shall create another planetary grave. Any suggestions on which planet shall host it?> Nephthys asks.

Ilithyia is about to suggest Earth when something gets her attention: something passes through one of the portals, and it’s not a dead body. It’s a living god, holding in his arms an unconscious goddess with the tail of a scorpion.

<Sorry to show up uninvited, but you have an Eden infestation.> Hermes says.