Ekron, the Dark Galaxy, 10 billion light-years from Earth
Throne Room of the Palace of Darkness
The air is filled with Ichor, making it difficult to breathe. The heat generated by Vesta’s fire doesn’t make things easier, and despite the Survival Field keeping her alive Noriko Null is visibly struggling to stay conscious.
<Should we take a break?> Vesta asks, noticing her friend’s discomfort and lowering the heat of the fire engulfing the Emerald Throne.
<No such luck, we’re in hostile territory. Are you sure you can melt this thing?>
<Yes, but whatever this emerald substance is, it’s almost as tough as Neutral Matter.>
<Then go hotter, we don’t have time to spare.>
<I can’t rush through this, Noriko. Not unless you want me to vaporize half the continent together with the throne.>
<I’m not overly fond of this planet, but we didn’t survive Baal’s torture to blow ourselves up… just do it as fast as you can. Prometheus, are we safe from the palace’s guards?> she asks the blind god.
<I cannot sense any Ichor users in our proximity. They all left.> he answers.
<Hmm. That sounds like our distraction worked.> Noriko realizes, stroking her chin.
Outside the palace
Millions of Ekronian Demons live in the City of Darkness, and thanks to their innate connection to Ichor they felt the battle as soon as it started.
Adding the fact that one of the most basic uses of Ichor is creating portals, and very soon an enormous crowd has joined a battle against the invaders.
What few of them realize is that the thousands of women they are fighting are all copies of a single Myridian, each of them glowing in a purple aura.
<At some point you’re going to give up, right?> Kari Zel asks one of the Ekronians, before punching him hard enough to create a shockwave that ragdolls dozens of his peers through a building.
<At least they’re great training for this new technique.> another Kari points out, using the brute strength granted by the Shadow Breaker power-up to throw into the air a second duplicate: that one creates twenty more duplicates, all of which manage to fall on top of just as many Ekronians to knock them out.
<At least not all of them are good at fighting.> a Kari comments.
<With this power, I don’t think I’d have trouble winning against the whole planet without even duplicating! I’m just sharing just a fraction of what the Shadow Breaker can do!> another boasts.
<There’s a whole lot of me around here. Did we beat up everyone already?> another wonders.
<Kari, would you be a dear and help me with those things?> Aphrodite calls her.
The goddess is floating atop a veritable mountain of Ekronians, all of which are completely unable to fight… but not because of any injury, considering the expressions of full bliss on their faces.
Much to Kari’s confusion, something else is floating above Aphrodite: it’s a crowd of very angry children, trying their best to escape despite being kept in a telekinetic zero gravity trap.
<Aphrodite, what the Hades are you doing!?> Kari asks, dropping back to her regular form and re-absorbing her duplicates.
<These little goblins keep trying to attack me, and I don’t know what to do with them. You’re a mother, right? You babysit them while I look for some more fun.>
<Wait, you mean we defeated the whole city already!?>
<No, you defeated half of it, I f##ked the other half. That was our arrangement, silly, or did you forget?> Aphrodite giggles.
<I didn’t mean it literally!>
<Of course not! I wouldn’t touch the pre-pubescent ones, I’m not that kind of goddess.> Aphrodite points out, dropping thousands of Ekronian children onto the streets.
For a moment Kari shudders at the thought of Aphrodite handling human children with such callousness; luckily for her, Ekronians are much tougher.
Unluckily, the children are not any less bloodthirsty than their parents, as she finds herself having to deal with another angry mob while Aphrodite floats away looking for more partners.
On a different continent
This city has no name, since Ekronians don’t believe giving labels to anything that has not earned a name. And this has been a wholly unremarkable city since its foundation, until today when something unusual shakes its monotony: a spaceship crashing.
Gilgamesh is enough of a pilot to ensure the HDS Polymetis doesn’t crash into the city itself; despite the heavy damage it sustained, the ship violently hits the ground on the shore of a nameless river just outside of the city.
The emergency hatch opens up to let three Ur set foot on the planet.
Gilgamesh, still affected by the curse that removed his muscles, is the first to leave, followed by the immortal elder Utnapishtim and his equally timeless wife Nintukzi.
<I see why your legend makes no mention of space battles.> Utnapishtim quips.
<I managed to take out at least ten Ekronian warriors, did you not see, old man?> Gilgamesh replies angrily, examining the damage. Ichor weapons managed to carve large gashes into the hull, and the engines have been completely mangled.
<Is it really wise to leave? Out here, you are not protected by the soil of our garden.> Utnapishtim’s wife reminds him.
<Your magic soil protects us, but not the ship. Are you injured, Siduri?> Gilgamesh asks the ship; it’s weird to talk to it as a person, but he knows this is just the latest form of this Celestial being.
<My people cannot feel pain, yes? Is it time to abandon this form?>
<Not yet. Noriko will need it to get back home. Can’t you… repair yourself?>
<I can alter my form in the material space as I wish, but that would remove all the modifications made, yes?>
<And Noriko needs those. She needs me, and I can’t do anything in this useless body.> Gilgamesh realizes. His self-pity gives way to desperation when Ekronians from the city appear out of hexagram portals; most of them are armed with Ichor weapons, eager for an excuse to fight.
Utnapishtim and his wife will be fine… the blessing of the Sumerian gods prevents anything from injuring them… but he would be in trouble even if he had his old body.
That line of thought sparks a plan in his mind, and as soon as the Ekronians attack the Sumerian hero rushes back into the ship as fast as he can.
<Poor boy.> Utnapishtim sighs, hugging his wife and watching the army rush towards the ship: sensing they can’t harm the elderly couple, they went for the easy target.
Expecting a quick victory, they’re shocked to see the ship twist itself into a new shape; the surprise gives it enough time to transform into a humanoid form, which stands proudly in front of the Ekronians and raises its fists in preparation for battle.
<If I can’t use my body, I will use hers.> Gilgamesh’s voice booms through the ship’s loudspeaker, as the Sumerian hero goes back to what he does best: punch his way through a battle.
Beneath Darkness Valley, elsewhere on the planet
Quantum wishes he couldn’t see in the dark when in energy form. Then he wouldn’t pay attention to the underground river of magma infused with Ichor, or to the endless armies of Ekronians rushing in, or to the dizzying speed at which Hermes is knocking out one after the other.
<I have to say, these guys are real bores. No banter, no declarations of lofty morals, no boasts of superiority to the gods, just a bunch of angry tryhards warriors. As far as battles to decide the fate of a galaxy, this is a weak 4 out of 10.> Hermes has the time to complain.
<Could you take this a bit more seriously? This is a serious moment, you can’t rate those!> Quantum responds, pickup up the slack to bounce as a laser between Ichor fighters.
<Trust me, mortal, if you live long enough, these life-or-death things get boring.>
<Out of curiosity… you fought the Vanguard more than once. How did we rate?>
<Meh. A solid 7 out of 10.> Hermes shrugs.
Something moves beneath the river of magma, shaking the entire underground complex before a stream of Ichor emerges from it.
<I’ll give you guys one thing, though… things never get boring around you.> Hermes concedes.
The stream continues to get more and more massive, somewhat resembling a gigantic snake of Ichor that rises out of the ground and towards the atmosphere… while absorbing within it all the weapons that the Ekronians used to wield.
Ekron’s north pole
Nobody lives on this part of the planet, but even Ekronians would have had a difficult time tracking the movements of the two Demons fighting over the ice caps.
Torn and his father Reaper have blocked each other’s attack blow for blow, alternating getting in and out of portals with running faster than Demon eyes can track.
Torn’s new Aether weapons disintegrate Ichor as soon as they touch it, which Reaper has been using to his advantage to use the weapons as bait almost as much as he’s been trying to use them to decapitate his own son.
This has taken much out of their bodies, and they both take a moment to catch their breath while still keeping a careful watch on the soul of the opponent.
<You won’t keep up with me forever, Father. You may have more experience, but I have more stamina than you and infinitely superior weapons.>
<Your control of the blasphemous Aether won’t outlast the Ichor that sustains me, son. All these years and you still have not learned a thing. The flesh does not matter, the weapons do not matter. All we need in life are our convictions and what powers them. >
<I agree, Father. I may be unable to challenge your convictions, but I knew there was something I could do to take away your power.> Torn replies, making his weapon disappear.
Reaper is initially confused by this move, but he doesn’t have time to reflect on it since the Ichor scythe that replaced his arm leaves his body to fly into the air… where it joins a gigantic net of Ichor streams that is now encompassing the planet.
<The humans call this technique “stalling”. Welcome to Null’s plan, Father.>
All across Ekron, all Ichor is rapidly flowing towards a single target now.
Throne Room of the Palace of Darkness
Even after all these years, Vesta still can’t believe the things Noriko Null can do as a mortal.
It’s been only a minute since she handed her the sword forged by fusing the Emerald Throne into a new form… and now that Noriko is holding it, she can feel the world tremble as Ichor obeys her.
<I still don’t get it.> she admits.
<We went through this before we landed.> Prometheus reminds her.
<Abyss once took control of all the Blood in Hell; I’m doing the same with Ichor. You can thank Hades for teaching me the basics. I was planning to use the parts I recovered from the Ragnarok for this… but this is so much better.> Noriko says, visibly struggling to keep her composure while the entire palace is now at the center of a maelstrom of Ichor visible from space.
<The material from the Emerald Throne seems to resonate with the Ichor inside it. You seemed strangely familiar with this property as soon as you analyzed it.> Prometheus notes.
<I’ve used something like this before. I was just going to use this to sever the Ekronians from Ichor, but this gives me a better idea.>
<I’m not going to like where this is going, right?> Vesta asks, knowing the answer.
<You better stand back. I don’t have the advantage of a time dilation field this time around.>
<What is she talking about?> Prometheus asks Vesta.
<You’re not seriously going to…> the goddess realizes.
<Use the same attack that killed Tiamat? You bet!> Noriko replies, raising the emerald sword into the sky, pouring her soul and channeling the power of the Nexus through it.
<HEAVEN SLAYER!!!> she shouts.
The world itself reverberates as all of its Ichor is supercharged and pushed beyond the mortal realm.
On a higher plane of existence
Zeus hasn’t really paid much attention to the passage of time. He’s been deadlocked in a fight against Baal for what he feels like could be days or millennia, with the Primordial god perfectly matching every ounce of power he’s been pushing through multiple dimensional layers.
He’s been too focused to really notice what was going on in the Dark Galaxy, but even he can’t ignore the surge of energy that comes out of it to hit Baal out of nowhere.
The Primordial Lord of Domination is staggered for a moment, but that’s all Zeus needs: channeling all his divine power, he discharges enough raw energy into his opponent to break the tie.
Baal is now open wide, and Zeus takes the opportunity to deliver a decisive blow.
He doesn’t literally try to punch him, since they’re both currently way above any concept of physical form, but Zeus does deliver the equivalent of a knockout punch… which Baal stops.
<SHE.> Baal says, with anger seething through his voice.
<HURT.> he adds, healing the wound caused by the Ichor surge.
<ME.> Baal concludes, hitting back Zeus as hard as he can.
Throne Room of the Palace of Darkness
As soon as the attack dissipates, Noriko Null doesn’t have enough strength to stand up.
She lets go of the sword and would fall into the ground if Vesta didn’t immediately catch her.
<That was reckless! Do you want to die a second time!?> the goddess chastises her.
<Don’t all mortals by definition need to die at least once?> Prometheus comments to himself.
<I’ve survived worse. Besides, it worked right?> Noriko asks.
It’s a good thing that Vesta is holding her, otherwise she probably wouldn’t survive once something smashes through the walls of the palace, flying towards the former position of the throne at nearly the speed of sound.
Once she has made sure that Noriko is safe from the debris launched by the impact, Vesta checks what just crashed through the building… and her shocked gasp is loud enough for Noriko to hear despite her ears still ringing from the wall exploding.
The dust cloud around the impact point fades, revealing an unconscious Zeus.
And Noriko becomes pale as a ghost once she realizes:
<Oh we are f##ked.>
<NULL.>
The sound of Baal’s voice sends chills down her spine; the roof of the throne room and all floors above are instantly disintegrated, revealing a figure large enough to encompass the entire sky.
A hooded skeleton held together by trillions of flies, with raging fires filling its empty eye sockets.
<You have summoned the unyielding fury of a Primordial God. You will not be glad you did.>
Discussion ¬