Chapter 10: Chaos Follows

Horatius

There's something both intimate and comforting about sitting peaceably on the shoulder of an extraterrestrial giant that loves you with all of its heart, secure in the knowledge that when in its presence you're the closest to invincible you'll ever be while still retaining mortal form.

Even the power of a God and his army of the undead is useless in the face of the White Titan's wrath, the symphony of destruction tearing apart Hades' realm a soothing melody as I lean against Sefar's neck, silken strands of alien hair softly caressing me as if alive and possessing a mind of their own.

[HOW?! How do you resist my power?!]

The frenzied shout of thwarted rage is accompanied by a sound like the Earth snapping it's spine in two with a rush of ocean water as backup, my left eye lazily opening to the view of a tidal wave of skeletal hands and black miasma bearing down on us, a deluge of divine power and physical force that could erase a small city.

Sefar lazily raises its oversized hands upwards, horn-antennae matching the motion as the attack is nullified by the simple act of touching the White Titan, any trace of energy completely absorbed and repurposed by the spiritron collectors laced across the body of the Titan.

The assault fades, leaving behind a three kilometer crater of broken and melted ground, a bewildered God...and a completely untouched Sefar with accompanying Human on her shoulder, palms with embedded spiritron emitters aiming at the deity and his assembled host of thousands upon thousands of Grim Reapers.

The resulting blast of orange, purple and blue light makes Hades' attack look like a playground scuffle compared to Nagisaki, a twenty kilometer stretch of Underworld turned into eradicated wasteland of corrosive and foreign energies, Sefar's influence spreading further and further the more destruction is caused.

...The original assault by the White Titan on Earth had been a desperate thing, the deities and other magic users of the time finding-to their no doubt utter dismay-that any mystery or conceptual based attacks were merely absorbed by the invading life form, fueling its growth and power. Sure, sufficiently strong or numerous enough attacks could damage its form but that method had been akin to trying to drown a fish, the ultimate brute force method that likely wouldn't have worked in time to halt the planet's destruction.

It had only been through the usage of the sword that would become Excalibur-or was Excalibur, alternate world timelines and circumstances can be tricky-that the White Titan had been halted, the energies of the holy sword unique enough in nature that Sefar couldn't efficiently absorb them, gifting Humanity with a weapon that was actually worth a damn against the invading Xeno.

...Hades clearly didn't get the memo, staggering to his feet despite the corrosive streamers of Velber cells chewing away at his from, empty sockets practically burning with malevolence as yet another eradicating wave of miasma that would turn my body to dust within the span of a second forms overhead, the host that had marshaled at his side simply deleted from existence.

[I see the method and strategy you employ, Creature! I shall simply have to overwhelm you with the might of this realm's most powerful God of Death!]

…

I'll give him points for persistence, but that was probably the attitude of most of the Gods that tried to take on the White Titan in their time. It didn't go so well for them.

Such a titanic amount of mana gathers that even my stunted perception of the energy is overwhelmed, the miasma coalescing and solidifying itself, compressing ever more energy and conceptual strength until it feels as thought the sky itself is nothing but warped reality, the deathly mist assuming a tangible form reminiscent of a three-headed dog, snapping and snarling with nothing save intent to kill.

[Regret that you drew the ire of the God of Death, Hades! AIÓNIOS THÁNATOS!]

...A for effort, Hades.

But you lost the moment Altera assumed her progenitor's form.

The manifestation of death lunges forward, Sefar taking a single step forward to meet it, once more raising her arms to meet the assault...but this time the crystalline construct atop her forehead glows like a beacon amid a storm, three stars of purest red, blue and green shining with such intensity that they could burn out a Human's eyes with little more than an errant glance.

The White Titan meets Hades' assault and the world screams.

Ordinarily Sefar would have just accepted the attack, let it deal its damage and use the absorbed energy to recoup its losses, if not come out ahead.

That's not an option while I'm present, only possessing a mere Human body that would waste away in the blink of an eye.

But that's fine, she's not fighting and considering the long term plan of civilization erasure...merely keeping me safe.

The conflicting energies push and tear at each other, the Cerberus of pure, deathly power striving against Sefar's manifested strength of mana and civilization erasure, two opposing forces of nature striving to overwhelm the other-

"You can't fight against a being specifically made to destroy sentient life, Hades...your realm will be under new, hopefully better management now."

-and my calm, inflectionless tone coincides with the rainbow of energy emanating from my partner overpowering the malicious conglomerate of death in a final explosion of illumination, a roar of defiance, dismay and distress leaving the God of Death's maw…

And then silence, my eyes opening as I gaze out at the destruction wrought in the aftermath of the White Titan's rampage.

Where columns of marble and stone had once towered overhead, sparse grasses and cobbled pathways sprawled and ostentatious architecture resided lies...nothing. Just stripped clean landscape of bleached sand and dust.

That's the terrifying part about the Velber race...they don't leave anything behind, life of practically any kind is recycled or made use of, energy and information stripped from it in a refined and damn near perfected process.

"Well, scratch one God."

Hauling myself to my feet I turn to face the head taller than my entire body, glowing eyes of orange, red and gold locking onto my own with an unreadable expression.

No doubt as she considers the best way to kill me. The past battle with Mercury proved that while Altera can direct Sefar's natural instincts and drive in productive ways-such as using the compulsion to destroy as a means to destroy things that threaten me-she can't suppress them in their entirety. With the enemy that would have erased me from existence gone...all that's left is the person she was trying to protect.

Thankfully I know how to deal with this.

"You did perfect, Altera...You can take it easy now."

Then I throw open the floodgates between us.

The effortless exchange of memories that exists between me, Altera, Scáthach and now Gilgamesh isn't just a way to promote understanding...it can also be used as a defense mechanism in the event of some kind of mental corrosion or assault, allowing myself or another Heroic Spirit to draw out our partner into the depths of our experiences, immersing them in our past to remind them of who and what they are.

So what if Altera was originally a Xeno being with only the basic compulsion to eradicate all life at the behest of a controlling intelligence, the fragment of Moon Cell data bringing that form to life and affecting her mental state to a nearly unrecognizable degree?

She has me, and I have her.

Some pathetic otherworlder never stood fucking chance.

Gently submerging the Heroic Spirit in the embrace of my past, of the long chain of history I've lived through and the far happier decades we've spent together the White Titan's eyes drift shut, placid features gaining the smallest hints of a smile as she dissipates into drifting motes of light, the data from the Moon Cell expunged and deleted as Altera ignores and rejects it, now that she can identify something outside of being Sefar.

A smooth roll and minor bit of Reinforcement dissipates the force of impact as the towering body vanishes, my arms automatically outstretched to catch Altera's form as she's released from the core of Velber 02.

It's a simple matter to adjust my balance so that the slim woman is barely so much as jostled, body completely bare other than the esoteric markings of war traced over her skin and multi-colored diadem that adorns her skull, features slack with peaceful rest.

All that's left is a single, thin wafer of blue crystal in the center of her chest that gradually fades away into dust, the information on Sefar fading away into nothingness, now that it's been rejected.

"...You never cease to amaze, Altera."

Lightly brushing aside a stray lock of pale hair I offer a smile to the sleeping Hero, tucking her further into my chest as I heave out a sigh. It'll be awhile before she's back to full consciousness, not to mention the disorientation that'll arrive from her time spent as both Sefar and then swimming within the depths of my memories...but those are the costs of victory.

Speaking of victory I wonder what's going to happen now that Hades is little more than dust in the wind. In my original world the demise of a God didn't upset the balance of nature unless they had been altering it on a large scale, simply removing any and all 'unnatural' effects they had created. The wind would keep blowing, the ocean would shift tides...Gaia had some deep systems in place and even the sentient extensions of its power couldn't change that.

But, you know. New world, new rules. Maybe all of those souls will be...free…

…

Since when did a crowd show up?

Surrounding the two of us for kilometers on end, standing on level ground or floating in random arcs are thousands upon thousands of skeletons, all of them staring at us with sightless sockets and dead silence.

Hah hah.

…

Now what? I might be able to summon up Irappu in time if they decide to attack...but Altera isn't conscious and can't astralize, that's a no go. Shit, of all the-

A whisper of power washes over the gathered host as their bodies begin to shimmer, regaining muscle, organs and skin within a heat haze of strange effect.

It's quite the crowd, mostly Greek denominations and individuals but there's also a pretty generous helping of others with Buddhist, Christian and other Eastern factions intermixed, even a few Yokai.

And they all bow, kneel, pound their chests or salute to the sleeping woman in my arms before dissipating in a storm of light, either traveling to different realms of the afterlife or just moving...on, I guess. Can't say for certain, I'm not familiar enough with the universe's method of soul recycling.

"A damn shame you weren't awake for this, Altera...bit of a spit in the face of your original intent to be nothing more than a machine of destruction. You would have loved it."

Sure, she can see the event within my memories...but it's not quite the same.

In no time at all the display is over, nothing but silent breeze and drifting dust to mark the landscape, much of its deathly pall gone and replaced with simple bareness.

"Well...might as well start moving. No idea where we were dropped off but I'd wager good money it's far away from our initial objective. Our luck is shit that way."

I readjust Altera's slim form and begin walking.

How big is this damn place? An hour of walking and practically no change of scenery or discernible location...which isn't what I'm concerned about, granted. I'm more worried that no one else has been able to find us. Gilgamesh and Scáthach are still out there-I can sense them drawing on my energy-not to mention the other three.

Is this terra just that massive or are we cloaked somehow? Because considering the speed they can move I would have figured we would be found by now-

…

What...what the fuck?

A whisper of distant song, brush of silken hair against my skin and my blood runs cold as an infinitely familiar mind caresses my own, a consciousness that should not be here.

"...Tiamat?"

"It worked."

I pivot on my heel, eyes frantically scanning the landscape-

-and not more than three meters behind me is the gracefully standing form of none other than the Sumerian Goddess herself, nearly imperceptible smile tilting her lips.

"What...how-"

"Thank you, Horatius...you helped me. I could not had done this were it not for your love."

"Love? The Hell are you talking about, I haven't done anything-no, fuck that, how are you here? You're not an illusion, I can feel you just like I can feel Irappu. You-"

"I will see you again...please, stay safe until that time."

My eyes travel downwards as something odd enters my field of view, a sight that my brain instinctively recognizes as being wrong-

...Oh

Oh God…

"Tia...Tia please. Tell me you didn't do it."

The Mother Earth Goddess sedately approaches me with sure footsteps, gait smooth and silken...completely unbound by the chains that had previously restrained her, arms raising to cup my face with a tender expression and unhindered movement, the sensation as tingling as it always is as the material that doubles as an oversized, physical manifestation of a Divine Graph interacts with my skin.

"The time approaches...freedom calls for me, Horatius. Just as it did for you."

Before I have time to ask how she's doing this, how she's here and not in her prison soft, ocean lips seal over mine, a nostalgic and melancholy memory of such intensity that for one, heartfelt moment the past doesn't matter-

-and reality reasserts itself as I break the kiss, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it as I force myself to ask, "How? Tia, you shouldn't be able to-"

"Please...keep him safe."

Completely ignoring my desperate plea for answers the Goddess bends low, planting a kiss on Altera's forehead and lightly caressing her features with a soft smile.

Readjusting my grip on the King of Combat I reach out to grasp her shoulder-

-and a momentary blink causes the Goddess to vanish before my eyes, presence completely absent from my mind and perceptions as if she'd never existed.

Gone.

"FUCK!"

My outburst only reaches barren wasteland, emotions a turbulent mess as ragged breaths of rage and frustration slip past my lips.

...HOW?

How did she manage to reach outside of the realm she's imprisoned in, to actually speak to me as if she was physically there? That should be impossible!

And what did she mean by seeing me soon and finding her freedom? Did she find a way to break out of her container?

...Why now? What happened that allowed her to speak with me at this very moment?

My lips purse as I stare at the still unconscious Altera.

Was it the manifestation of Velber that did something? Our journey to this universe? My summoning of Irappu?

...I just don't know.

"Horatius!"

I snap out of my thoughts as Scáthach and Gilgamesh suddenly leap down from one of the Queen of Hero's Vimanas, relief plain to see on the Lord of Shadow's expression as she strides forward.

"I see my worry was unfounded, thankfully. What happened to Altera, is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine...we had to make use of the White Titan to destroy Hades so it'll be some hours yet before she wakes."

Scáthach frowns, having never seen us make use of that particular trick before as she leans forward to lightly caress the King of Combat's features.

"You're certain? I can't imagine such an experience would be so easily recovered from..."

"We've had a previous example to go off of, unfortunately. How about the two of you, anything dangerous or unusual occur?"

Gilgamesh scoffs as she strolls up alongside Scáthach, tentatively poking the King of Combat in the cheek with a finger as she states, "You believe us unable to handle a few thousand servants of a mere death god?"

"Considering how abruptly we were yanked out of existence I didn't want to make assumptions. Any eyes on the other three?"

"Yes. Quite literally, in fact."

The Queen of Heroes points to the sky where three familiar shapes are winging towards us, alighting on the ground with confused expressions.

"While I'm relieved to find you all safe and unharmed I can't help but ask how you managed such a feat."

Tobio's bewildered tone leaves me unable to do little more than shrug, replying, "Hades got on the wrong side of a foe he shouldn't have tangled with. One that has more than a little experience wiping out Gods as a matter of course."

Vali's expression somehow manages to convey both excitement and disappointment in equal measure, tone eager as he states, "While I had wished to battle Hades one day...the being that defeated him should promise to be a fair bit more challenging. Is it her? The one you carry in your arms?"

I glance down at Altera's sleeping features before shrugging.

"In a manner of speaking. You'll have to ask her about it once she wakes up."

Turning to Dulio I ask, "Quick question, what happens to everyone now that Hades is dead? A lot of the Reapers regained their original forms before fading away into nothing, is that good or bad?"

Scratching the back of his head the young man offers an apologetic smile, explaining, "Unfortunately matters of the soul after death-or in this case being freed from death-are not my areas of expertise. But logic would state that, with Hades' demise, the souls he held dominion over would be able to freely rejoin the afterlives they were denied or move onward, to wherever souls go when life or belief holds no sway over them."

I nod in understanding, his explanation seeming close enough to my home universe's own rules that it's easy enough to accept.

Even across infinite parallel worlds the universe seems to prefer having a few constants stick around, soul recycling being one of them alongside things like entropy or gravity.

"To be completely honest I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Hades is dead. You're sure you finished him off entirely? No remaining vestiges that will one day rise again?"

Tobio's valid concern prompts me to shrug, explaining, "He was hit with an ability that has a fairly consistent kill rate among divine beings, and let's not forget that all those wraiths and such that appeared afterwards to thank Altera."

Gilgamesh yet again manifests a Vimana that we quickly board, the black-haired young man sighing as he explains, "My apologies if it sounds as if I'm doubting you, it's just that I never expected such a potent and troublesome enemy to be erased so abruptly."

His expression gains a hint of wry amusement, remarking, "I imagine the rest of the realms over are going to have quite a few questions or inquiries for you, Horatius-san. While Hades was by no means a popular individual he did command great power and by extension great influence. And let's not forget those that wish to thank you as opposed to receive reparations."

I don't bother hiding my sour expression, quickly replying, "With any luck we'll be long gone by the time that happens. I'm not sure what's worse, well-wishers or those that want to slip a knife in our backs..."

Dropping into a sitting position with my back against the rear of the control throne-Gilgamesh taking her seat with regal grace and instructing the craft to once more take to the skies-I cradle Altera tight, the three young men along with Scáthach taking up positions opposite of me while Dulio asks, "You find gratitude distasteful?"

"Not so much distasteful as it is awkward. I've lived for a long time and made plenty of selfish decisions along the way. Hell, my current actions right now aren't even really ones born of altruism. I'm doing this to help a friend and because my abilities enable me to do so effectively. Hearing praise for doing 'good deeds' always feels very much like a 'smile and wave' scenario, since those kinds of results were seldom at the forefront of my mind."

Gilgamesh scoffs from her position at the front of the Vimana, remarking, "Receiving the common folk's praise for deeds performed is the duty of a sovereign, Gladiator. Whether they were intended as such or not is irrelevant, the Queen is greater than her subjects as is thusly adored by them, therefore gratitude must be acknowledged and accounted for, else the citizens will feel slighted. As if they're thoughts and feelings do not reach their Queen in any capacity."

"An excellent point, Queen of Heroes. But the only thing I've ever been ruler of has been the occasional buffet line, my reign interrupted only by Altera. Your rules don't properly apply to me."

An irritated grumble leaves the still diminutive Heroic Spirit that has Scáthach and the rest smirking or grinning in amusement, Tobio remarking, "I can understand your thoughts on the matter, Horatius-san. We can't all be as virtuous and pure hearted as Gesualdo-san over here."

"Oh, now you're just attempting to flatter me! I'm not that impressive or admirable of an individual."

"And Vali-kun isn't a socially inept battle junkie."

"Oi. Are you deliberately trying to pick a fight, Tobio?"

"I thought that was what you enjoyed so much, Vali-kun. Are you perhaps undergoing a change of heart? I'm proud of you."

The dog in Tobio's lap happily barks while the silver-haired young man scowls, a slight smirk pulling at my lips as the banter ensues.

It does a great deal to ease my anxiety at Tiamat's sudden and abrupt reappearance, never mind whatever strange plot the Sumerian Goddess is hatching.

I can't do anything about it now other than complete the current mission and get back home as quickly as possible, working things out from there. A shitty plan, but it's what I've got.

With that in mind I lean against the back of Gilgamesh's throne...and thus don't miss the suspicious glare she sends my way, crimson eyes searching me as if I'm covered in some kind of potentially lethal agent.

...Great.

Gilgamesh

The Gladiator seems to be a never ending supply of surprising twists and turns, second only to Enkidu in both the amount and aggravation resulting from aforementioned miracles.

...And what of this latest event? Summoning a monster from the past that laid low the olden Gods, paving a path for my future existence while controlling and wielding such power as if it was second nature?

There are many mysteries that persist throughout the universe, a number of those very mysteries residing within my treasury or having been laid low at my feet. As Queen of the ancient world, as bridge between Divine and mortal, encountering unknown or alien circumstances was-and is-as familiar a happenstance as breathing.

Yet the past few days after having been summoned to the Gladiator's side have been fraught with a cavalcade of emotional highs and lows I truly believed behind me.

Adventure, curiosity, investigation, humor, catharsis, shame, frustration...excitement.

"Were you only here to witness this new quest, old friend. You would have enjoyed it immensely."

But Enkidu's demise is an old pain, one that was long ago accepted and moved on from...or at least accepted as well as one can comprehend the death of the only friend they would ever have.

A fit of whimsy raises my arm to the bruised sky overhead, still small and far less grand than my more mature and perfect form. Thankfully my mental state has regained its usual potency, acting in a manner that befits this physical body would simply be an unacceptable twist of fate for the Queen of the World.

It would have been a trivial matter to regain my original body were it not for the events of the past few days, of constantly interrupted flows of mana, pitched battle and fatal injury.

And while near infinite in depth, quality and variety my treasury will no longer restock itself unless I was to return to the Throne of Heroes, thus more valuable medicines and concoctions such as Elixir's of Youth or similar placebos will have to be rationed until they can be synthesized through other means.

To be stuck in such a laughable form for such an extended period of time...since when did the Queen of Uruk also moonlight as a jester of the court?

To take my mind off these irritating matters I instead delve once more into the depths of the Gladiator's memories. While it was a simple matter for my intellect to understand the basic flow of his long years of life details had been scant by necessity.

With naught but time now on my hands I am free to indulge in the specifics of his travels, of the events and individuals he encountered on his travels.

More specifically, on a set of memories that seem to be almost forgotten...or perhaps hidden away, rarely reflected upon or revisited. For a man that seemed perfectly content in sharing century after century of his experiences with no filter whatsoever this seems a strange omission.

Smirking in blatant curiosity I delve deep in the memories of the Gladiator-

"My name is Horatius, may I have the pleasure of knowing yours?"

"Light? I have not seen light in a long time...not since my banishment..."

"We've flourished since you gave birth to us, expanded across most of the planet."

"Would that I could witness it with my own two eyes."

"...You know why I can't do that. You still feel it, right? The urge to begin anew."

"Yes. Yes, you are right. Please, may you show me the progress of my children?"

"You needn't even ask."

"I could cure this plague, free my children from their suffering. But I can only languish here."

"We both know what your method of cure would be, Tia."

"Do you not wish to see this affliction cured? Your own wife-"

"I know. I was there. And I know my own refusal to pursue Magecraft was the reason, you've reminded me of this a thousand times."

"I'm trying. I've gone through every possible tome, scroll, journal and manuscript I can find but there's nothing. Even if I did discover a theory or technique to divorce your nature from itself there's no guarantee I would be able to do so. I'm a terrible Magus, remember?"

"Then...then you need not do so at all? You converse and visit me to assuage your growing loneliness, why should we not create the world anew, as it's mother and father?"

"Because everyone will be dead. It doesn't matter if their souls and being are now one, you would be erasing their entire history. Starting over from day one."

"And we have naught but time, time to guide and watch Humanity grow under our protection. You would be a better mate than Abzu, my one and only love. For you are Human yet not, a perfect blend of being to gift me a perfect seed of genesis."

"I...I'm going to have to think about this."

Horatius

...Staring down an enraged-dare I even say confused-Queen of Heroes, Gate of Babylon surrounding me on all sides while Scáthach holds her spears at the ready, balefully glaring at Gilgamesh while the three young men are clearly left a loss of what to do in this situation or why the Vimana came to a screeching halt isn't how I thought the rest of the day would go.

"You...do you even fully comprehend what you risked?! In speaking to that pitiable God?! Even now her scent clings to you, like some lingering curse!"

I steadily meet the glowing crimson orbs of the Queen of Uruk, knowing full well what she's referring to, given the events of the past few hours. Scáthach eases her stance as well, no doubt understanding how this will end up playing out.

"I take it you saw my memories of the time I spent with Tiamat."

"Flashes and bits of them. Why are they so fragmented? Is there something you wish to hide from us, Gladiator?"

My head leans back against the throne, eyes closed.

"No...just that I tried to forget that time, tried to make it so that Irappu forgot as well. It didn't work all that great."

Gilgamesh wavers slightly, gritting perfect teeth as she hisses, "Then explain. Why did you cavort so freely with that demented Goddess, despite knowing full well what she is? And why did you go so far as to humor requests of freedom?"

"I wasn't humoring her. I nearly did break the shackles on her prison and unleash the two of us upon the world."

The Queen of Heroes stares with an open mouth, Scáthach quietly sighing as she withdraws from her position at my side. She already knows this tale.

A humorless smile tugs at my lips.

"Why don't I tell you a story, Queen of Heroes? Of the time I almost reset Humanity."

Well hot damn, I managed to get out a chapter months faster than I did the last one! Which means there was still months of absence but, you know...baby steps.

Next chap is going to be all about Horatius' and Tiamat's past, and the fallout of that whole debacle...bring your hankerchiefs and soap boxes, it's going to be a real tele-novella.