THE RAILWAYS END—CHAPTER 12
In which a lost dream is found
Asuka punches the dead
A Messenger arrives
And a god comes to rest
It's a world that can easily be mistaken for a corner of Hell.
When you go there—and you will go there sometime in your life, though you probably wouldn't recognize it—the mist curls around your legs, and unseen rats crawl over and under your feet.
If they like you, perhaps they will chew on your flesh.
There are many mirrors in this place, or perhaps they are windows?
Could they be both?
But you won't see your own reflection when you look into these panes of glass (or perhaps you will); you'll see a mother in Ethiopia, her child sucking desperately at a bosom devoid of any nourishment.
Here, in a slide-by that has a webbed series of cracks emerging from a small hole, a man who once held the American Dream in his grasp stumbles down an alleyway that reeks of human piss and garbage. He has spent his last few coins to pay for a bottle of whiskey. The effects of cocaine have vanished from his system long ago.
The police will arrive soon, to drag him to a jail so that he may be punished for slitting the throat of the little girl he had stolen the coins from.
There, in that octagonal portal with the frosted rose in the middle; a one-armed veteran has discovered that his grandson is homosexual. But that is not his concern: he has walked across his cornfield to find the boy lying in a ditch by the road, his head caved in by a baseball-bat. In three weeks, he will spit in the faces of two young men who were once his neighbors, damning them to hell for their crime.
The Realm of Despair; it will leave a scar on your heart.
A scar carved by her hook.
The white marble was cold against Asuka's feet as she uncertainly stepped up to the huge oak door and opened it to reveal a more brightly lit hallway.
The German redhead had seen many strange sights in her short life, but what lay beyond the door stopped her cold: a vast mirror made up the entire wall opposite her, showing her and…dozens of people of all races walking through the hall, dressed in all manner of clothing, and seemingly minding their own business.
But there was no one in the hallway but Asuka.
She looked from left to right, and then stepped closer to the mirror—to her reflection.
"Gott un himmel, what is this?" she murmured.
Somehow she was not surprised when the reflection answered, "We are the ghosts of abandoned dreams,"
"Abandoned dreams? I don't understand,"
The reflection shrugged, though Asuka did not.
"We are the dreams and ambitions that every Dreamer has when they are young. Some of us go on, and some of us fade into ghosts."
Asuka raised an eyebrow and peered at the bored-looking apparition.
"Oh? And just what are you a ghost of?"
The reflection glowed for a moment and then revealed itself as wearing a white lab-coat and glasses.
"What the hell…?"
The reflection almost seemed sad as she said, "You once dreamed of being a great scientist, like your mother. You admired her…until one day, she came home and saw only that doll…"
The head is torn off, stuffing spurting out onto the carpet…
Asuka's hair waved about as she shook her head.
"No…no, I don't want to hear this shit!"
She turned and ran down the hallway, leaving her reflection to stare after her.
"Goodbye, Asuka; it was nice to see you again…"
And she was gone.
The girl walked quietly down the grand hallway, past dozens of unremarkable doors. Each of them had a golden plate inscribed with what appeared to be names, though they were the oddest ones she had ever seen.
The Cricket-translator…the Duke of Ink…who the fuck are these people?
She heard a shrill whistle, one with a jolly and proletarian tune and the sound of some liquid sloshing about in a bucket. Around the corner came a scarecrow, contentedly swinging a bucket back and forth with a mop slung across his left soldier.
As he moved past the astonished Asuka he muttered, "How ya doin', toots?"
"What did you just call me?"
Mervyn Pumpkinhead turned around and raised a non-existent eyebrow as he replied innocently, "What? I just greeted ya—what's the problem?"
"You called me 'toots!' That's the problem, dummkopf!"
The scarecrow raked a green glove over the skin of his head as a thoughtful expression came over his "face".
"Huh, funny,"
"What?"
"You remind me of a gal one of the guys told me about. Red hair, blue eyes, nice rack…"
Asuka unleashed a string of curse words at Mervyn, including some that he had never heard before.
"Who the fuck told you that!?"
"The new guy…Shinji Ikari…"
Mervyn could almost see sparks flashing from her grinding teeth as she demanded the former pilot's location.
"He's on book patrol right now, but his rooms' down the hall, to the left if you wanna wait fer' him."
The amused scarecrow watched the vengeful girl dash down the hallway. He grinned as he lit a cigarette and continued his walk to the Shrine of San's Forest. On the way, he realized that Shinji hadn't said anything like that at all about Asuka. Oh well…
It was a copy of Fred Saberhagen's Ice in the Veins and Shinji had it cornered in the Nursery of Possibilities. The place was a massive chamber where women who wished to be mothers dreamed of potential children and their futures.
Carefully maneuvering beside the crib of a Chilean boy (who would be taking the oath as president of his country later that night), Shinji shifted his wriggling bag to the floor beside his right leg as he observed the book leaning innocently against the wall. His net was carefully kept out of visual range, ready to snap forward when Shinji calculated a plan of attack.
When he had first heard of this job, the former Third Child had little expectation that it would be as difficult as it was. As Lucien explained it, some "fool" had forgotten to close one of the library's doors and a few books had managed to get out before he discovered the opening. And the books were more aggressive than they looked: two had jumped him in the Hall of Mannequins, adding to his already heightened jumpiness in that particular section of the castle.
As stealthily as he could manage, he crept past the cradles, staying out of view. Finally, he came to the last corner, took a deep breath, and lunged…
"Well, that explains the great caterwaul I heard a while ago," Lucien said nonchalantly.
Shinji looked at him helplessly while behind him a pirate stumbled past the open door murmuring, "Babies…arr…babies everywhere…arr…flying through the air…arrr…"
The Chief Librarian held up the bag and swatted it with the handle of the net.
"See what mischief you do? I think you need a week in the 'return' box," he smiled at the bedraggled and bruised boy, "Thank you, Shinji; you can go back to your apartment if you wish,"
The boy wordlessly bowed and left.
The door opened at a single turn; it apparently wasn't locked.
The girl stepped from a hallway of marble into an apartment that looked like the builders had secretly built an ordinary group of rooms in the magnificent palace and then run away giggling in the night. The floor was green carpet with elegant white designs traced across it. A doorway led into a small kitchen, where a recently opened box full of teabags lay open on the counter. Asuka picked one up and looked at the label.
What the hell's a snozberry?
She dropped the teabag back into the box and walked through another portal into the living room. A couch sat at one wall, with a coffee table sitting before it. A large television sat in the corner facing a dead fireplace. Between these two things was a large window.
A few books sat on the table, with one lying open beside a cup of tea.
He was interrupted she thought, finally feeling a small pang of guilt at intruding on a private place. Asuka turned the book toward her and read.
"I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better."
So…the baka likes Robert Frost?
She suddenly heard a slow, small crashing sound and looked up at a painting that hung over the couch. It was a painting of a long, white beach bordering on an expansive blue sea.
The apartment door opened, and Asuka heard a pair of footsteps at the entryway.
"Is someone here? Matthew? Mervyn?"
The footsteps padded towards the living room.
Here's the wind-up…
"Lord Dre—?"
…and the pitch…
From his newfound seat on the floor, Shinji rubbed his jaw in shock as he beheld a sight he hadn't seen for weeks: a pissed off Teutonic redhead smirking in triumph rubbing her fist.
"Gutentag, pervert; what's this I hear about having a great rack?"
"A-Asuka?! How…?"
"The scarecrow told me. He told me some interesting things," she cracked her knuckles, "Now, would you like to be kicked upstairs or pounded downstairs?"
"Mervyn told you?!" Shinji yelped, holding up his hands in defense, "I've never told him anything! Honest! I just said something about you being a redhead! I—I…"
"Really?" she growled, peering at him with suspicious eyes. The girl could tell that he was surprised—if not terrified—at seeing her in his apartment…perhaps he really was telling the truth.
Shinji, for that matter, was telling the truth—and was horrified, for the simple reason that Asuka was currently garbed in nothing more than her sleeping clothes, which consisted of a T-shirt from Germany and some…interesting red panties. Thus, Shinji desperately tried to keep his eyes from roaming so that Asuka would not notice her current state and promptly knock him through the next nine walls into the Knight of Clouds' apartment.
"Very well," she said slowly, "so if…wait…"
Shinji balled up into a defensive position, waiting for the blows to rain down upon his head. Nothing happened, and he dared a peek.
She was staring at him, leaning over from the waist as those light blue eyes examined him carefully, gently.
"You're dead…" she murmured, a hand came up and covered her mouth, "Mein Gott, you're dead and I just punched you…oh Gott, oh Gott…"
"It's okay, Asuka, really!" Shinji suddenly got up, trying to calm her, "It doesn't hurt as bad as it looked! See?" He tapped hard on his bruised cheek, wincing visibly while trying to keep a smile on his face.
"Wait…if you're here, I'm either dreaming or dead; which is it?"
"Uh, that would be the former," Shinji replied, scratching the back of his neck, "I guess Mervyn told you how to get here, huh?"
"Mervyn?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the name.
"Yeah," he said as he held up his hands around his head as if the pumpkin were there, "You know: the scarecrow. He's a nice guy, but he's…well, really weird."
Asuka huffed and closed an eye as she glanced around the room.
"Where are we anyway? Heaven? Hell? Limbo?"
Shinji coughed before speaking: "It's called the Dreaming, the place where Dreams are born and nurtured into reality,"
"God, that sounds dorky," the redhead sniggered, "Sounds like someone who's read too many comic books,"
Shinji bit his lip as she marched over to the window, flinging it open and surveying the landscape visible from his place in the castle. His room's view had shifted—as it often moved to the Dream King's whim—to a large garden where a massive spoon rested with a huge cherry perched on its end.
"Who made that?" she queried, gesturing toward the sculpture, "It looks familiar…"
"Lord Dream," Shinji replied, edging closer to her, "He's created everything here; he's…well, he's my new master…"
Asuka's fingers gripped the window sill as she made a quick glance back toward the former Third Child. Master; he had said the word so easily, so comfortably. This from a boy who became melancholy at the mention of the Commander, who remained "Father" to him even after so many years spent in exile from his immediate family.
"'Lord Dream'?"
"He's the king here. One of the Endless, this family that rules the universe,"
Dream. This had to be a dream. Shinji in a huge palace, talking about things that were right out of a total dork's imagination and calling people "Master" and her wearing nothing but her sleeping clothes; it didn't add up.
Asuka stopped. She put her university-educated brain to work and soon realized: she was almost naked in front of the boy she had habitually bounced against the sides of their apartment for being a pervert.
"Hey! What the hell?!"
Shinji would have wet his pants if he wasn't so terrified. The redhead's hair flared out as she lifted her divine fist…
"…—Raymond Boatman once again denied that the United States Air Force had anything to do with the explosion over Cuba that took the lives of over fifteen technicians associated with the Evangelion program. However, President Fowler…"
Blue eyes snapped open, then blinked a few times at the news program on the television in Misato's living room. Dressed in her tee shirt and shorts, leaning up against the seat of the couch, it took a moment to gather where she was and why she was there.
The fist was still clenched when Asuka awoke. She held up her hand and spread it, flexing it a few times as she stared at it.
"Only a dream…right?"
Kaji Ryouji was in a decidedly black mood as he slouched in his bar chair. Difficulties in his last assignment had kept him away longer than expected and when he did come back, he wasn't quite ready to start flipping off to the NERV and SEELE giants yet.
First, he wanted a drink. No, a few drinks.
Not enough courage had been produced to make a call to Katsuragi's residence yet. He didn't feel like trying to explain himself to his onetime lover.
"What; couldn't you tear yourself away from your fucking job for an hour? Couldn't you spare a fucking minute of one fucking day to say goodbye to one boy?"
"Being a bit hard on yourself, aren't you?"
Shit, must have said that last part aloud, he thought to himself as the red-haired gaijin set down a martini in front of the special operative.
"Sorry, uh…" he looked at the man's nametag, "…Luke. It's been one hell of a month."
Luke shrugged; maneuvering a bowl of pretzels over to his grateful customer's scooping hand.
"Not a problem, my friend; I've been there before,"
Kaji smirked, "Bad times?"
"No," Luke smiled slightly, "Hell,"
That earned a chuckle from the half-shaven man, who missed the brief bloom of flame that emerged from Luke's eyes.
"But enough about me; what has brought you down?"
The restaurant was mostly empty this early in the morning, but Luke had filled Kaji's order without comment. The spy shrugged and scratched his neck.
"If you really must know…a friend died recently,"
"Heard that one before," Luke replied.
"Yeah, but…this friend…he wasn't even what I'd call a friend…hell, I think this the first time I've called him that.
"He led a pretty shitty life; never had much fun as a kid, mom's dead, and dad's a deadbeat. Wouldn't be much of a surprise if you walk in one day and find him swinging by a rope.
"But he was a good guy, even though life kept kicking him in the balls; this world's the worse for losing him."
Luke nodded before pouring himself a beer, "There have been a few like that; you get the feeling they live only to remind the rest of humanity to actually live.
"Here now, a toast: to old and new friends, to Shinji Ikari, and the devil's dues…"
"Hear-hear," Kaji's martini rocked as he clinked it against Luke's glass. They then downed both their respective drinks, Kaji reaching the last of his before realizing…
"Hey, how do you know…?"
Luke's glass was behind the bar, and the door into the back was wide open.
Then the sirens wailed.
Shinji had met the Guardians on his first day in the Dreaming. Gryffin, the winged lion with the head of an eagle; Hippogriff—the magnificent winged horse that Shinji had at first called "Pegasus"; and the Wyvern, a dragon-like creature that seemed to be the leader of the group, if there was such a position. The three mostly spent their days talking; gossip, arguments, and philosophy all reigned over the gates into the Dream King's home.
For some reason, the boy took a liking to sitting out with the three massive beasts at lunch and talking with them; the guardians voiced no objections, and so the boy would climb up onto the Hippogriff's marble perch and watch the three talk, rarely speaking (although when he had once spoken up without being spoken to, and the creatures seemed pleased). His seat—a ledge halfway up to the Hippogriff allowed him both the ability to see who was speaking and a splendid view of the Dreaming.
"…Titania just issued another reward,"
"Really," snorted the Wyvern as he rubbed his neck against the wall behind him, "for anyone who can give her the best orgy, I surmise?"
Gryffin sniffed as best his beak could allow, "For anyone who finds her husband; enough gold to fill the receiver's home, apparently,"
"Titania is the Queen of Faerie," Hippogriff whispered to Shinji. The friendliest of the three guardians, the massive flying horse did his best to keep the boy up with what they were talking about.
"Huh?" Shinji asked, looking up from his lunch bag—that he had been staring at for three minutes, "Oh…thanks,"
The Hippogriff frowned—as much as a winged horse could, anyway—and leaned down closer, his left nostril snorting lowly in Shinji's direction.
"Is there something wrong, Shinji? You seem more…withdrawn today."
Shinji sighed and shook his head, "It's nothing. Really; I'm okay."
Meanwhile, the conversation between the Gryffin and the Wyvern continued.
"I wonder if anyone will bother to even try: she'd probably try to give them maple leafs or something enchanted to appear as gold."
"Alas, the lady may be honest this time around; it is my understanding that without the High King Auberon, her throne is in danger," Gryffin declared.
"May our lord forgive me if I fail to shed tears over the downfall of…" the Wyvern stopped and suddenly drew himself up to his great height, his eyes flashing green, "…someone approaches."
Major of Special Operations Forces Misato Katsuragi, Chief of Operations of the U.N. Organization NERV and holder of the Order of the Rising Sun, third class, smoothed out the last undignified creases on her jacket before stepping into the Command Center of NERV. The shaking had decreased, though it had taken every drop of willpower she had to stop herself from holding up a bar at gunpoint and shriek for all the booze within the district.
"Report," she barked, girding herself for the coming battle.
"We have a confirmed Angel heading this way; no visual sighting yet but the U.N. is sending up every recon aircraft they have," Maya Ibuki called out.
Misato heard the commander's platform rise behind her and turned to face them. She was surprised: Commander Ikari appeared disheveled; his beard seemed to have grown out slightly; the beginnings of a moustache were present beneath his nose, and—for once—his glasses were slid down his nose, allowing part of his eyes to be seen.
As always, Vice-Commander Fuyutsuki was beside his immediate superior, every now and then blinking his eyes in a worried glance toward the Commander in Chief, NERV-Japan. The Vice-Commander cleared his throat and ordered the major to report.
"We have a confirmed Blue-type coming at us, sir; we're trying to get more info on it but…"
"Major! We have a visual from the U.N. recon squadron, putting it through now,"
Lieutenant Aoba tapped a few keys and spoke, "Orion Flight, do you read?"
"This is Orion-one, sir, I copy,"
"This is NERV; can you give us a visual on the Angel,"
"Yessir, activating transmitter,"
A massive holo-screen appeared before the command platforms showing the colossal body of the 14th Angel moving toward Tokyo-3.
"There doesn't seem to be any visible weaponry," said Maya.
"Orion-lead, this is NERV Command, can you get us a closer look?"
"Copy that, Nerv Command, we're moving in; Orion-two, Orion-three take up flanking positions; Orion-four, take five and six, maneuver around."
"Roger; five, six, we'll go round by way of Tujikana District; use the Second Bank of Kyoto building as a hinge,"
The excellent maneuvering abilities of the Draculesti Aviation AHC-16 VTOL-craft showed as the flight split up to take their positions. To the Angel's right was Orion-one's group and to the left was Orion-four.
"Still no sign of weaponry," said Maya, "Maybe it has…"
"Orion-four, I think I saw something flash…"
The pilot did not get to finish his report. A long shining blade swept out of the left shoulder of the 14th Angel, curving in the air toward Orion-four. The craft was still in motion, and the blade slashed through the left wing of the AHC-16, sending the engine spinning into the trees below. The other craft in the group fled while Orion-four began lolling to its unsupported side.
"Mayday! Mayday! Ejecting now!"
The cockpit's window blasted off, flipping away and descending into shards as it impaled itself on a tree. The pilot and the weapons systems operator rocketed off into the air, thankfully away from the Angel's direction.
"Status of the Children?" Misato asked, shaking off the shock of the incident.
"They just arrived, heading toward the lockers,"
"ETA of the Angel?"
"MAGI calculates it to be twenty minutes,"
Shinji's bite of ham, mustard, and another unidentifiable but wonderful substance immediately gulped down his throat as he turned his eyes toward the approaching figure.
Were he on Earth, Shinji would have mistaken the man as a hobo. He wore a tattered black cloak and a beat up old hat with a large brim. In his right hand he carried—and leaned on—a tall wooden staff.
"Hola," he called up to the guardians.
"Hail to you, sir," the Hippogriff stretched its neck down to look at the stranger closely, "What brings you here?"
"I would speak with the Dreamweaver," responded the grim looking fellow, "there is something I wish to…discuss with him.
"You know who I am: I am the Gallows God, ruler of Asgard, father of Thor; I am Odin One-eye, and I come as your monarch's friend,"
The Wyvern snaked his head closer to the now introduced god, who did not even flinch when the massive beast sniffed him.
"When you came here last, you declared our lord your enemy,"
A thin hand came up and waved dismissively, "In truth, I did; but I had no animosity toward him. He had been tricked, and that trick cost him his life and my house a good friend.
"He is not my enemy; my mead is his to drink and my meat is his to eat. I have only come to talk."
The Wyvern drew up his head, reptilian eyes still on Odin.
"Our lord is not currently in residence, Lord Odin. May I recommend…"
"No. I would speak with him. I must speak with him."
"Yet, he is not here," said the Hippogriff, standing up on his perch and spreading his wings majestically, "I am sorry, lord, but Lord Dream of the Endless is simply unavailable,"
Odin turned to look at the winged horse and…
"Who are you?" he demanded, pointing at Shinji.
The boy, horrified at being recognized in something that obviously didn't involve him, tried to back away.
"This is Shinji Ikari, Lord Odin; he is the newest member of the palace staff,"
"Shinji Ikari?" Odin's single eye widened slightly, then became blank again, "Very well; I will speak with him then."
"What?" the boy cried.
"Urm…Lord Odin, could you not wait for our lord to return? We could send a messenger to him and he would not keep you waiting,"
Odin shook his head gravely at the Hippogriff's words, "No; I won't trouble him. I will be satisfied to talk with the boy,"
The Hippogriff uneasily turned his head to Shinji and seemed to shrug in helplessness.
Shinji sighed, and began to climb laboriously down from the ledge.
Five minutes before the Angel arrived, and the pilots were suited up and listening to the Major's plans.
"The main armament of the Angel seems to be these blades emerging from its shoulders," Misato said, tapping the recon-photo, "they seem to be very flexible. They're also very long, the damn thing took down one of the U.N. planes half a mile away.
"This is my plan: Touji, you and Asuka will take up positions on either side of the Angel while Rei gains its attention with an apparent assault.
"When the Angel is engaged in our deception, you two will fire your individual positron cannons at the Angel, forcing the Angel to divert it's AT-Field in three directions. The laws of physics say that one of you guys will be able to smash through one wall.
"If not, a bomber is now entering orbit near Tokyo-3. If you guys don't break through first, that bomber will toss one N2 bomb into the Angel's weakest point."
The Norse King of Gods had bid Shinji walk with him along the Shores of Nightmare. And now the former Third Child walked nervously alongside the one-eyed deity.
"How old are you, boy?" Odin asked with some difficulty before coughing.
"Uh, fourteen, Lord Odin,"
"Fourteen," mused the Gallows God, "and you have killed? Killed the so-called 'Messengers of God'?"
Shinji's eyes widened and he looked at Odin in amazement; not only had he known what the boy had done in life, but also had known the names of the strange beings that the former Third Child had fought.
"It is troubling—nay, terrifying—what is happening on the mortal world. My ravens tell me of machines that are said to mock the Creator; of blasphemous acts taking place within a great fortress."
Odin suddenly stopped and looked out across the dark waters to the Skerries. He took a heavy breath and turned back to the boy.
"Do you know where gods come from, child?"
Shinji silently shook his head.
"They come from here, from dreams; formed and shaped when mortals dream of superior beings shaping and forming their universe when in fact they give us life. Our stories were written by mortal dreams, our battles fought with swords forged on the fires of human belief, our children were born by the human mind.
"And when they stop believing, fading away into history, we die. We come back here and vanish."
Odin pursed his lips, and looked into Shinji's eyes.
The boy had never seen a sadder expression as the King of Asgard spoke on.
"Perhaps it is for the best…"
The interception was taking place outside the city. The power packs—each the size of a cargo truck—were carried in one hand, the rifles in another.
"All right, stooge, pay attention; watch a pro work,"
"Yeah, whatever," Touji muttered, "Let's just remember there are people down there, 'kay?"
The two took up positions behind taller buildings, waiting for the Angel to appear.
It didn't take long.
"Here it comes; Rei, move into position!"
"Yes, ma'am."
Rei moved forward, leveling her huge assault rifle and opening fire.
A single bolt of light erupted from the Angel's head and slashed toward Unit-00. Rei, quick to react, ducked into another street and the beam hit a skyscraper behind her, a cloud of dust surrounding the hole it created and more debris following it as it exited the building into oblivion.
Misato's curse reverberated throughout NERV. As if trying to make up, Rei poked her gun out from an alley—shoving a garbage bin out of the space and into a nearby parked car in the process—and fired another volley of shots. The Angel's blades suddenly whipped out of its sockets and sliced through the buildings blocking its path. The structures either collapsed on and around the blades or slid off of their positions into the streets below, kicking even more dust and debris into the air.
"Asuka, Touji, now!"
Twin beams of light hit the AT-Field at once, forcing the Angel to divert its defenses to two other directions.
"The back is weakened; tell the bomber to hit the bastard," the Major barked at Maya.
"Yes, ma'am!"
A few minutes later, a huge flower of flame erupted at the Angel's location.
"Asuka, Touji, are you ready for another shot?"
"I am, Misato,"
"Then shoot the damn thing, Asuka!"
The redhead pulled the trigger…
"What do you mean?"
"Who weeps for us, boy? Who weeps?" Odin hissed, before exploding in coughs. Shinji stepped back as a glob of blood hit the sand. The Gallows God wiped off his mouth and then continued his dark conversation.
"Have we not been there when you called? Did our scrolls and books and words comfort you in your darkest times? Your Bible, Koran, Torah, Adi Granth, Book of the Dead, Mahabarata, and Lao-tzu: were they not with you always?
"I am not complaining; I have no right to. My followers are gone, buried beneath the snows of the north. But we were left behind, a child whose parents forgot…"
Shinji shivered at that last sentence.
"We, the Gods of Asgard, have survived on slivers of belief that all mortals have deep within. But in this new era," Odin drew his cloak closer, "It is so cold. Here, the beliefs that you mortals held are abandoned. The Gods are neglected; the temples and churches are empty.
"I…cannot live on another century,"
Odin coughed again into his hand, spattering it with blood.
"The decaying began some time ago; nothing was left of the belief; no tribute but some…book with pictures. And now even that is gone, and my degradation is accelerating,
"I am not strong enough. The end will come today,"
Shinji's eyes widened as he stared at the one-eyed god. He was currently moving toward the dark water.
"What?! Why?"
"I have told you. There is nothing left to support me,"
Though he was by nature afraid of angering the entity, the boy reached out a shaking hand toward the god's cloak and touched it. The Gallows God whipped around toward the boy, and he cringed away.
"Please, child," Odin murmured, "I am tired,"
Shinji could only watch as the Lord of Asgard moved into the water, further and further. Soon he tossed away his staff and moved further into the surf.
When the water came up to his chest, he paused and turned around. He lifted a hand; Shinji heard fluttering on either side of him and turned his head slightly to see a raven alighting on his left shoulder.
"A gift," Odin called, "for walking with an old man,"
Shinji watched, frozen, as the Gallows God moved further and further into the water.
And then he was gone.
The wind blew; a cyclopean bird flew overhead. No clap of thunder or wailing skies. Shinji was slightly disappointed.
"So, what do we do now, Master?"