Asgard Station, Null Zone

Bob Null is not easily impressed by his daughter’s inventions: he’s obviously proud of her work, but it’s hard to find anything particularly unbelievable after all she’s done over the years.

But as he faces the glass wall that separates the inhabitable part of the station from the rest of the Null Zone, he can see that the cramped hallways just pale in comparison to what is being built outside.

The construction site is basically a huge assembly of Nullbots and F.E.N.R.I.S. units working in unison to weld together several hundred feet of metal, as yet another  crowd of robots is installing all sorts of machinery.

<Well, what do you think?> Noriko asks her father.

<That I shouldn’t have let you play with Legos as a kid. How big is it going to be?>

<Right now I’m focusing on the main hub; the outer shell is going to have a 500 meter diameter. But it’s a modular design, so even I don’t know how big the final version is going to be.>

<How did you get all the material!?>

<I scrapped my plans to expand the Surtur fleet and used every spare part I could find, even recycling stuff from the debris of some of the ships I blew up over the years.>

<Couldn’t you build this back on Earth? I thought you wanted a space station.>

<The Null Zone has one advantage that just can’t be beaten. Come have a look, this is the coolest thing I’ve ever made.> Noriko excitedly tells him, handing him a pair of welding glasses as they walk towards a different part of the station.

<Don’t take them off even for a second, okay? We can’t stay for long, even with the shielding it’s best to limit the exposure.> she recommends.

<I can’t see anything with these things.> Bob laments.

<The lens are covered with a special material that blocks light better than anything else. Even like this, it’s going to be a little bright.> she warns him, pressing a button that opens the shutters of a window. When she does so, the room is absolutely flooded by the light of the small star that occupies almost their entire field of vision.

<You built the station next to a star!?> he exclaims, shielding his eyes: the glasses prevent his retinas from being annihilated, but it’s still an uncomfortable sight.

<No. I built Asgard Station in the middle of nowhere, and then I built a star next to it.>

<You… you built a star!?>

<Yep.>

<Since when can you do that!?>

<Since the Portal Generator provided a reliable access to the Null Zone. I just bought the extraction rights to a nebula in the Middle Galaxy, used the Key of Heaven to open a wormhole to siphon the gas here, then I cranked the Star Forge to maximum power to collapse it into…>

<The star what?>

<Right. I forgot to tell you about the Star Forge, my bad. It’s an array of Gravity Generators powered by 27 next gen Plasma Reactors and a Black Hole Cannon. The side of the station facing the star absorbs its light to power all systems; I should be able to transfer most of it to Earth’s planetary shield pretty soon.> she explains.

<This… this is something else.> Bob admits.

<So, going back to my original question: what do you think?> Noriko asks, closing down the window and crossing her arms.

<The station, the star, the planetary shield… you’ve done nothing but build stuff over the last what, three months now? Four? I never see you at home.> Bob says.

<I keep myself busy.> Noriko shrugs.

<You know what this reminds of? The first time you got your period.>

Despite her best efforts, Noriko can’t hide her utter confusion at his complete non-sequitur.

<Remember how you tried to avoid me for two entire weeks because you were too embarrassed to talk about it?>

<Embarrassing me is second nature to you.> she replies, rolling her eyes.

<My point is that I can always tell when something’s wrong with you. I was trying to give you some space, especially since you broke up with your boyfriend… but come on, Noriko, you’re too smart to believe I wouldn’t notice that you’re sick.>

<What are you talking about?>

<Catherine didn’t tell me anything, but something’s off with the way she mentions your medical check-ups. You’re constantly avoiding your friends, there’s that weird twitch in your hand, and you haven’t made a public appearance in months. I know my daughter, and you haven’t been yourself for quite some time. So, do you want to talk about it?>

<No… not really.> she replies, dumbfounded by her father’s observational skills.

<Well, too bad: whatever it is, you shouldn’t go through it alone.>

<My personal problems are nothing compared to what Hell went through, dad. Every second that I spend worrying about my health is time that I can’t spend to prevent the next catastrophe.> she points out. Almost as if to confirm her father’s worries, her right hand starts twitching.

Fortunately for her, that’s when her N-Phone starts ringing.

<I have to take this.> she tells her father, abruptly leaving the room; when she answers the phone, it projects a hologram of Dmitry Voron.

<Is this a secure line?> he asks.

<I’m in a different dimension, it’ll be fine. Glad to see the modifications to the tachyon relay are working. Do you have something for me?>

<It’s a big one. Athena is having a secret meeting with Apollo, right now.>

<That’s odd. These two hate each other.>

<That’s not all: she just put the Athenian fleet on high alert. It’s like your American DEFCON 2.>

<Any clue about what the meeting’s about?>

<She expects a war. You better gather the Vanguard, Null. This is really, really bad news.>

<Thanks for the info, Dmitry. Any chance you can get out of the Federation?>

<I’m headed towards Earth right now. See you soon.> the Russian scientist answers, closing the communication.

Noriko looks at her phone. Her hand is still shaking, but she can’t focus on it right now.

<O.D.I.N. I need an emergency meeting of the Vanguard… send out the call.>

 

Io, moon of Jupiter

543 million miles from Earth

During her 2700 year long exile from Olympus, Vesta has visited pretty much every planet and moon on Earth’s solar system; Io has never been her favorite.

Jupiter lurks above her, dominating a third of the sky even if it’s over 260,000 miles away. It’s by far the most geologically active celestial object in its system: its volcanoes dwarf those of Earth. Powered by the immense tidal forces generated by Jupiter’s gravitational pull, its plumes of sulfur can spew far beyond the atmosphere; accelerated by Jupiter’s extreme magnetic field, they contribute to make the planetary system lethally radioactive for most mortals.

It’s a land of fire and ice, where the snowfields of sulfur dioxide are next to volcanoes that are hot enough to melt iron.

<Any reason why we’re here?> she asks while cautiously stepping into the lava with her bare feet.

She’s communicating through her Soul Relay: there is an atmosphere, but it’s too faint to be useful.

<It reminds me of Hell.> Torn replies. He’s sitting cross-legged on a couple of Blood swords that are floating above the lava; his body is covered in an aura of red energy, shielding him from the lethal aspects of Io’s environment. The sheer stubbornness of Demon physiology does the rest.

<Earth has volcanoes too. Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable training there?>

<I would. That’s why we’re here.>

<But doesn’t it take most of your concentration just to stay alive in this place? You could die if you push yourself too hard.> she warns him.

<One cannot grow if there is no challenge. That’s what doomed Hell.>

<What do you mean?>

<Demons were once a force to be reckoned with. But we retreated to Hell where we felt safe; safety lead to complacency, which lead to weakness, which lead to defeat. We stopped growing.>

<Torn, I understand how you feel, but…>

<Do you? You have been exiled from Olympus, yes, but you can never lose your home planet.>

<I’m not pretending it’s the same thing. But I have lost everything I had once; I have lost loved ones because I was too naïve and too complacent. And believe me, I know what it’s like to want to punish Ares more than anyone else in the universe.>

<I understand he’s responsible for your exile.>

<It was my fault for trusting my family and putting them above the wellbeing of mortals, but yes, he’s part of it. But I still hate him for it, and I think that you can sense it.>

<The Blood wants revenge, Vesta. It feels hatred and can turn it into power. Null is on my side, but… humans don’t value hatred the same way Demons do. Or the ways gods do… even peaceful gods like you can unleash their wrath if they are pushed enough.>

<Where are you going with this, Torn? Why did you want to meet here?>

<Null’s Soul Relay can link our souls. I believe that I have reached the limit of what I can accomplish with the Blood and you have reached yours with your divine powers. Linking our souls could be the way to push ourselves past our limits.>

<Sounds kind of dangerous. The Blood doesn’t mix well with gods.> she notes.

<That’s what I’m counting on.>

Before Vesta can answer, the Soul Relay implanted in her head sends a familiar warning.

<We’re needed on Earth. Mind creating a portal? It would take me hours to fly there.>

<There is enough time to attempt a Soul Link. If you are serious about fighting Ares.>

<I am, but… this is probably a bad idea.> Vesta sighs, floating towards Torn and levitating whole assuming the lotus position.

<Close your eyes. Find your center. Focus your energies.> Torn instructs her. It’s much easier to teach this to a god rather than a human, since controlling her own energies comes natural to Vesta.

<Soul Link.> they both say.

Their bodies are engulfed in auras of Blood and flames. While Torn’s face has his usual blank expression, Vesta is  showing clear signs of pain.

<I don’t think the Blood likes me. It’s resisting me.> she says.

<Its power must be earned. You have to fight it to get its respect.> Torn replies.

The lava flow below them starts to boil: Vesta’s body is emitting more and more heat in the battle against the Blood that is raging within her veins. But at the same time she can feel the Blood is deliberately shielding Torn from her.

<Now I get why we didn’t do this on Earth!> Vesta realizes.

 

Delos, 78.000 light-years from Earth

Athena never really cared much about her worshippers. Now that she’s in the throne room of Apollo, the constant chanting of his Oracles is getting annoying: they are continuously singing praise to the One True Sun God.

<I thought this was supposed to be a secret meeting.> she says, sitting on the golden chair floating in front of Apollo’s throne. It’s the holiest of holiest sites in his sector: until a few days ago, the very idea of another god setting foot here would’ve been blasphemous.

<There’s only space for me in their minds, Athena. They won’t even register your presence.>

<If you say so. Let’s go straight to the point, shall we? We both despise each other, but we both want to get rid of Ares. His attack on Hell is the perfect pretext to attack him together.>

<Rather convenient for you. I wonder if you somehow engineered that attack. If this was only about Ares, I would agree: if we attack together, we can defeat him. But Hera is with him. And if we attack Hera, you know Poseidon would side with her no matter how many treaties you trick him into signing.>

<You are forgetting one player, Apollo. The Slayer of Gods can join us.>

<I don’t trust you to sway her to join forces with us, Athena. You’ve exploited her too many times; she’s now too independent to be controlled.>

<On that we can agree. But here’s the reason why I insisted to meet in person.> Athena replies, taking a scroll of paper out of her breastplate and telekinetically handing it over to Apollo.

When he opens it, it projects a hologram of the Olympian Galaxy highlighting a particular star.

<That is the location of her home planet. I’m sure she would appreciate a personal visit from the Sun God.>



Ø
End of issue. Click below to navigate chapters.