Howdy, folks, how's it going?

So, site's still fucked, hope this update goes through ok.

As always, shout out to Chaos Productions for his input.

And as always, I own neither MTG nor RWBY.

Enjoy!

/

I've got to be honest, to this day, I still have no idea how I did that. I do not know how I managed to break the Tyrant's hold over the dead gods, just… Something within me resonated with Oketra somehow. She was the god of Solidarity, cooperation and compassion given form by faith, the ideals of white magic at its finest, so I guess there was some connection there?

You can't understand the local writing, but under my statue over there it reads "Ruby Rose, Gods' Deliverance", that's the mark I made in that war, but sometimes, I can't help but wonder if I even had any active part in that one thing…

Yeah, I know, feels kinda excessive, but it's not like I had much choice in the matter, I wasn't even old enough to realize what I did or how it'd be seen, cut me some slack, ok?

Anyway, where was I…? Oh right, so, yeah, after whatever it was that I did, the gods were free, even if it wasn't a perfect thing. They were still dead, and they would never again fully become what they once were, heck, as I later found out, I didn't even do it for all of them, two that had remained back in Amonkhet had been too warped, too far gone for that light to reach them… but at that moment, the minds of the god-eternals were their own again, and you can probably guess that, to say that they were pissed would be quite an understatement. After so long being deceived and made slaves, first thing they did was about turn and head straight for the Tyrant's stronghold, eager for vengeance for themselves, and justice for the people they hadn't managed to protect.

The Tyrant had planned that whole scheme out for ages, everything down to the last detail. He had even deceived the Gatewatch into acquiring a weapon that was capable of killing his kind, unaware that he had gotten to it first and had enchanted the blade so it could never be used against him specifically. But that someone could have broken his carefully woven control over the God-Eternals, and at so early a juncture in his great plan, was not something he had ever accounted for. In fairness, it's hard to see something coming when neither side of the war knew it was a possibility, but either way, as you might expect, he wasn't exactly pleased with the development.

But that was just the least of the things he didn't see coming, because unknown to all but a select few, my father was weaving plots of his own…

/

The placid, still waters of the meditation plane belied the great upheaval that was taking place as events that would decide the fate of the Multiverse unfolded, a serene stillness encompassing and overcoming the physical boundaries of the small reality, a silence that was suddenly shattered by a surge of jade mists and the beating of feathered wings as a dragon appeared from nothing in the empty realm.

Standing alone amidst the pools that showed echoes and visages of what once was, what was now, and what could yet be, despite the gravity of the situation, Ugin, the spirit dragon, allowed himself a moment to stretch out his pinions and breathe in the peaceful air. Tarkir may be the home he claimed for himself, but this place, this refuge, would always be his domain.

And now, with his usurping brother absent, the realm welcomed him back, he who was one with it, accepting it eagerly as he imposed his control and drove away his sibling's taint. The realm shifted accordingly, the massive horns jutting skywards from the middle of the realm, the mark of his brother's perceived dominance of a subjugated territory, slowly bent and curved to the sides, taking the shape of Ugin's own.

Satisfied that he once again had control, the spirit dragon willed specific images to appear in the pools all around him. After ages of plotting and planning, Bolas was at long last putting his gambit into motion, an image showing him the cosmopolitan Ravnica, now under invasion by his brother's twisted creation. A view from on high, his own brother's perspective, no less. How ironic, Ugin couldn't help but think, that the ornament his brother had claimed as a trophy from their distant conflict, the gem that now floated between his horns, was the gateway through which the spirit dragon could see his wayward sibling's every move, and plan accordingly.

And so he watched things unfold, while at the same time coordinating with his agents to push events in just the right direction, to give him just the right opening. Sarkhan had already delivered onto the resistance what was needed to resurrect the Izzet Parun, and was now on the way to Amonkhet to entreat its last surviving god, as planned.

Through the unnoticed connection, he could feel Bolas' anticipation, his sense of incoming triumph as his soldiers marched upon the world, as he made those he had under his yoke do his bidding, as the trap was sprung and countless planeswalkers were drawn into the net, made unable to escape via Ugin's own creation.

Even from here, he could hear the screams of the dying, feel his brother's careless, dark amusement. Curious, there had been a time when, in the face of all that this moment signified, he would have paid it no heed. But he could not afford to act, not yet, too much was at stake.

From his hidden perspective, he watched as the planeswalkers and the natives rallied and took the fight to the Dreadhorde. He could feel his brother's growing satisfaction at his enemies doing exactly as he intended and expected.

Even as his ancient mind kept pace with countless different thoughts, surveyed several different sides of this battlefield, an old, weary part of the spirit dragon, a pain that oft lay dormant, but never gone, couldn't help but wonder, how it had all come to this, how the chains of events of their youth had led his brother, the one being in the multiverse that he had once loved, to fall so low…

Still, he waited. And he watched as Bolas played his hand, unleashing the god-eternals, those once mighty being now nothing but puppets, an affront to the natural state of things.

And despite his own feelings about the recklessness of the younger planeswalkers, the spirit dragon had to acknowledge their resilience, as they kept fighting, even with divinity standing against them. He allowed himself some satisfaction as visions swam in, showing teams of them splitting, denying his brother his minions. Not that it mattered to Bolas, as the culmination of all his schemes, the Elder Spell, loomed ever closer-

Suddenly, he felt the surprise in his brother, one he himself mirrored, as something unexpected happened. The massive burst of light, in the distance, and the immediately loss of contact with the enslaved gods, it was as if they'd been destroyed, completely removed from the sorcerous weave wrought by Bolas.

But as his sibling's surprise swiftly turned to anger at something disrupting his plans, Ugin's own turned to alarm, a small flick of his tail the only outward sign of it. He recognized this power, even if he had never before seen it unleashed in such a magnitude before.

Ruby. That foolish little girl was in Ravnica. That should not have happened, the wards of his sanctum in Tarkir should have prevented such a thing. Either the beacon luring planeswalkers into this plane was a far more effective piece of artifice than he had assumed, or he had severely underestimated the girl's childish curiosity. It would not be the first time.

To his own surprise, the spirit dragon found himself feeling a sensation that he hadn't felt in ages. It was imperative that he lie in wait, to let things play out with his own little nudges, to not do anything that would allow his brother to catch on to his presence. It was, needless to say, somewhat frustrating, to feel this reluctance to stay the course, that a part of him almost thought to just go to that plane, and potentially throw away the best chance at stopping this, but in the end, discipline born of millennia of contemplation, as well as the fact that he could tell that the girl was still alive, prevented him from such foolishness.

His attention then turned back to his brother, who in his anger turned to his last remaining minion. Ah, yes, the necromancer, Lilliana Vess, he recalled. After the debacle at Zendikar, he had taken the time to investigate the so called Gatewatch, so he was well aware of her circumstances, a woman trapped in servitude by the foolish pacts she had made in the blind pursuit of power. She wasn't the first to go down that ruinous path, and she would not be the last.

Bolas asked of her, the commander and lynchpin of the Dreadhorde, an explanation for the sudden shattering of the foul sorceries chaining the gods, holding the threat of imminent annihilation over her.

And as he observed through his brother's eyes, Ugin noticed the change in the woman's demeanour before he did, the breaking point were disgust, anger, guilt and hope at last trumped fear and self-preservation. He watched as she stood tall and proud, observed her moment of spiteful defiance as the woman mocked Bolas to his face, and used the power he had invested in her to wrestle control of the Dreadhorde, ceasing the influx through the planar bridge, and turning those already in the plane against their master.

His brother's wrath was as swift as his punishment, a fist clenching furiously as a pact came undone, and the markings carved in the necromancer's very flesh burned with searing light, her form slowly crumbling to dust. She remained defiant all the way, laughing in his brother's face to her very last breath.

Ugin made a note, in the event that this ended in victory, to inform the Gatewatch of the full context of her final moments, she had earned that much at least. But still, the spirit dragon waited.

He could see Bolas working towards reassuming control over his undead army, to keep his plan on track. He needed the harvest of sparks to keep going, Ugin could tell, the fallen so far were still not enough fuel to the ascension.

But he didn't get the chance, as a shaft of pure sunlight smashed against a barrier raised by keen instinct alone. He could feel his brother's outrage at the interruption, could see through his eyes as he looked to the distance, seeking the interloper. It didn't take long.

Amidst the ruined districts of Ravnica, a figure stood tall, advancing inexorably towards the dragon's stronghold. There was a moment of shared surprise between the siblings at seeing one of the gods moving of its own volition, her feline death mask expressionless, but a sense of righteous fury emanating from her undead form.

Something lurched within Ugin as he was quick to notice the little spot of red on the god's shoulder. What was that child doing?!

The thwarting of her first attack did nothing to dissuade the dead deity, however, as she proceeded to unleash volley after volley with each step she took.

Bolas growled, deflecting the barrage even as he diverted part of his considerable power towards trying to reassert control over the divinity… Only for instincts honed through a thousand battles to once again make the elder dragon jump to the side with a mighty beat of his wings, just as something crashed where he had previously stood with all the force of a meteor.

It didn't take long for the dust and debris to clear and reveal the new intruder, another of the gods, this one in the image of a snake, rising from the crater and standing defiantly. On its shoulder too stood a figure, one Ugin swiftly recognized as Gideon Jura.

Then, to Bolas' surprise, the god spoke, its voice a hissing but fully coherent rasp, swearing retribution against the great trespasser.

An unexpected development, to say the least, but one with a clear source, if one stopped to evaluate and sense the magics at play. Never would Ugin have expected, that the latent power within his charge would have managed something like this…

He could feel his brother considering the ongoing cascade of deviations from his carefully crafted plot with rising anger, could see as the approach of the last two gods was noticed. Once in the past, Bolas had shattered them in combat and molded them into puppets with ease, back in those troubled times where Planeswalkers still enjoyed omnipotence. But that had been then. The god-eternals might be diminished from their former glory, but so was his brother left with but a shadow of his former might by time and the Mending.

The Elder Spell was not complete, the flow of sparks had ceased, and now facing divinity at a four to one disadvantage, it was dawning on Bolas' mind that his situation was becoming untenable.

He could feel his brother's searing rage at the realization, that so many millennia of plotting and preparing had come so swiftly undone in such an unpredictable way. But just as Ugin could feel the reason behind this development, so too was Bolas reaching the same conclusion, his focus once again, on the more distant god, or rather, towards the tiny, insignificant ant it carried.

He could feel his brother's rage focused into a singular point as the elder dragon brought his power to bear, seeking the annihilation of the unknown variable.

And in that moment, despite all that was at risk, despite all of his own carefully calculated plots, despite the sheer illogical nature of it all, Ugin, the spirit dragon, threw caution to the wind and dove forward.

I've changed, part of him thought idly, as he stepped through the eternities.

No longer was he simply watching a vision, but actually part of it, a mighty beat of his wings carrying him aloft before his brother. The shock and disbelief in his sibling was immediate, and the rage and wrathful hatred were not far behind.

But against all that, only one thing crossed the spirit dragon's mind.

"Claws off my daughter, Bolas."

/

Been a while since we saw things from Ugin's perspective, hasn't it?

So, yeah, Lilliana died because Ruby's unwitting liberation of the gods fucked up the schedule of events, and she rebelled against Bolas before Gideon could actually get there to do anything about it.

Anyway, next time we have the end to this climax, and the return to Remnant.

Before that though, next time we'll be going back to Of Red Petals and Black Feathers, so look forward to that.

Cya all on the next one, stay safe and take care.