Reviews:

RonaldM40196867: Guts best trait is his will and determination even in the face of overwhelming odds and adversity.

manu111: To be honest, the Emperor will probably have to have a long talk about Chaos with Guts whether he likes it or not. He won't really have much of a choice after everything Guts has been through.


After Wyald was killed by Zodd, the remnants of the Band of the Hawk were distraught to learn just how horrible Griffith's condition truly was. Guts' presence was a spark of hope, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't Griffith. Worse, he would see this through with them but he didn't plan to stay with them forever and everyone knew it. So they looked to Casca instead.

There was still time before they joined up with the other unit, so she asked for time to think.

Guts had just finished talking to Judeau and the Raiders. He found Casca standing by one of the carts, a little ways away from the cart Griffith was in, looking upset.

"Hey." He greeted her.

"Hey." She responded.

"How's Griffith?"

"He's… He started crying… I… damn it… I can't stand seeing him like this… Guts… He's so small now… So fragile…"

Guts knelt down and embraced her. "I know… Neither can I… I wish there was something I could do but…" He sighed and shook his head. "Like I said to that monster, he'll be king one way or another. He'll have servants taking care of his every need…"

Casca looked down. "It feels wrong… You fulfilling his dream for him…"

Guts frowned thinking back to the monster and its words. He thought about it. If the situations were reversed and he was the one who dreamt of being king, would he be satisfied with Griffith doing all the work and installing him on the throne after it was all over? He came to the conclusion that, no he wouldn't be.

"I…" He sighed. "I see that perspective, but… If we don't do it for him then his dream will never be fulfilled. He would never become king… The Princess was captured and Griffith can't even talk or hold a pen to speak or write down orders… So what else am I supposed to do? I can't heal him. I can't undo the past nine months of torture. I can't help him hold a sword again or give him a new tongue so he can give orders… This is the only thing I can do for him…"

Both of them went silent for a moment.

Suddenly the horses took off and Griffith's cart started rolling away at high speeds.

""Griffith?!"" They both called out, shocked by what was happening.

"No way… How?! He shouldn't be able to do more than crawl on his own!" Guts demanded.

"He might have heard us…" Casca muttered.

Guts' eyes widened and he looked at her. He had thought they were far enough away to avoid being overheard. A sick feeling rose in his stomach. If Griffith overheard them…

"I'll try to chase him down! You tell Judeau and the others!" He then turned and bolted, running after the cart as fast as he could. He'd been making progress against the poison so he could run faster than a horse, but only by so much and Griffith had a head start on him.

'Dammit! Dammit! Goddammit!' He thought to himself as he sprinted after the cart.

As he started gaining on it, the ground gave out under him revealing a shallow cavity which he fell into. He had to climb back out and keep running. As he started gaining on it again, he tripped as a rock he hadn't seen slid out from underneath his foot. Then he stumbled but managed to catch himself as he nearly slipped on mud. He growled furiously, it felt like the universe was actively conspiring against him to stop him from reaching Griffith. Now paying very close attention to where he was running and his foot placement, he avoided any more potential obstacles and continued running after the cart.

This time, the cart hit a boulder and Griffith went flying out.

With the delays, Guts was too far out to do anything to stop it. "Griffith!" He called out desperately.


Griffith chased after the image of his younger self.

He had to go. He had to fulfill his dream. If he didn't he would be the one lesser than Guts who had found his own dream and was on the road to fulfilling it. He had to achieve it himself by any means necessary otherwise it wouldn't be his accomplishment and it would all be meaningless. He couldn't be Guts' equal if he had to rely on Guts to fulfill his dream for him.

The wheel of the cart crashed against a rock and he went flying out of the cart.

"Griffith. The servants have finished setting the table, dear."

Griffith looked and saw himself sitting at the head of a massive table with luxurious amounts of food. It was a feast and several members of the band of the Hawk were there. Beside him was the Princess.

"You fell asleep while waiting, Griffith." Charlotte told him with a smile.

'What is this? Where am I? The castle?' Griffith thought to himself.

Princess Charlotte gave him a confused look. "What is it? Is there something on my face? Is my makeup smudged?" The princess asked, raising a hand to her cheek in worry. Then something seemed to click. "Oh! You must've been day dreaming again. Was it about the past?"

'A dream… So that's what that was…'

"It's a shame Guts and Casca don't come by very often anymore. But I suppose they're busy managing the Duchy you gave them after we married. Guts is a very scary man. I still vividly remember the day he sieged Wyndham entirely on his own and slew my father and all his supporters… But he's the reason we're able to be together so I am forever grateful to him." Charlotte told Griffith.

"You know, when I think about it now, it all feels like a dream… Maybe it would make for a good bedtime story for our son."

Griffith's eyes were drawn to a boy swinging an oversized wooden sword. The child had his hair and build but had Charlotte's eyes.

"Come now, Guts. It's time to eat. You can play with the toy your uncle made for you later." Charlotte called out to the child.

"Aw… Okay, mom." The boy said, putting the huge wooden sword in a leather sheath on his back. He then rushed over to the table and sat down near him and Charlotte. "Hey, when are Uncle Guts and Cousin Griffon coming to visit again? I might not beat Griffon in a sword fight since he's so big and strong like Uncle Guts, but I've been practicing with a bow and I've gotten really good at archery! I even hit a bullseye from horseback this morning! So I can definitely beat him in target practice!"

Charlotte chuckled and patted the boy's head. "On the anniversary, of course. The same time they come every year. They never miss the celebration of the day your father became king. After all, your uncle was the reason it happened in the first place! It would be a shame if he missed it."

'Yes… None of this would have ever happened without Guts… I couldn't have achieved it on my own… I can't even stand on my own or pick up a sword… All of this… I earned none of it… I achieved none of it… It's all Guts' accomplishment…' Griffith thought to himself.

Charlotte raised a spoon to his mouth. Griffith blew on it, cooling the broth.

'I should be happy. I have what I've always wanted. I'm the King of Midland. I rule over this kingdom and all its people, and I live in luxury. I have a beautiful wife, a strong handsome son, and all the riches I could desire. What more could I possibly ask for? I should be happy… So… Why does it hurt? Why does it all feel so cold and empty…? Why…?'

Something emerged from the broth in the spoon. A red thing with a jumbled up face. The Behelit, Griffith realized.

Suddenly he found himself back in reality, still flying through the air after being launched from the cart.

He landed in the water of a shallow lake. Agony shot through one of his arms. He lifted it and saw he had a compound fracture. The bone was piercing through his skin.

"Heh heh… Haha… Ahahahaha… HAHAHAHA!" He laughed hysterically, his hopelessness and despair reaching a soul crushing crescendo.

He spotted a sharp outcropping of splintered wood

He crawled over to it and attempted to stab himself through the throat on it. He missed and simply tore a nasty gash in the side of his neck, failing to pierce or sever his jugular vein or carotid artery. His body was so useless he couldn't even kill himself…

Then he noticed something. His hand was on the string of something under the water. He lifted the object out of the water upon his limp fingers and saw it. The crimson behelit. The egg of the king.

'Hawk… Falcon… It will return to your hand. Such is Causality's will.' Zodd's words rang in his ears.

'Use it…! Call them… Our guardian angels!' They monkey monster's words resonated in his very soul.

"Griffith!" Guts' voice rang out across the lake.

Griffith turned and saw Guts rushing towards him. Further behind him was the rest of the Band of the Hawk. Then he noticed Guts and the rest of the Band of the Hawk stop and look up at the sky.

Griffith turned to see what they were looking at and saw the moon floating in front of the sun, about to cause an eclipse.

"Unhhh…" Griffith groaned, staring at the Eclipse.

"Griffith, hold on!" Guts shouted again.

Griffith looked over his shoulder and saw Guts running towards him. He turned the rest of the way to face Guts and almost fell back into the river.

"AHH!" Griffith shouted at Guts, unable to form words with his missing tongue.

'Stay away…' He begged in his mind.

"AH! AH!"

'STAY AWAY!' Griffith screamed mentally.

Guts seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking past Griffith, but didn't stop. If anything he started running even harder. "GRIFFITH!" He shouted.

'Stay away… STAY AWAY! If you touch me now… If you try to help me… I'll never… I'll never…! I'll never stand on my own again…! I'll never be your equal! Your friend! Your brother…'

Guts reached him, knelt down, and gently grasped Griffith's shoulders.

In Griffith's hand the behelit, soaked in Griffith's own blood, shifted. The face unjumbled, the eyes and mouth opened, and it screamed. Everything changed. The sky and ground became an endless plain of tortured, screaming, and demonic faces. The only part of the sky that was still visible was the blackened sun.


'Wha…? What happened?' Guts thought to himself, staring at his new surroundings. It was almost like a scene out of his recurring dreams with the red demons and the fields of skulls and oceans of blood he'd had ever since his fight with Zodd. Except with faces instead of skulls, and no rivers or oceans of blood.

He heard some of the Hawks screaming behind him.

"AHHHH!"

"UWAAAAH!"

"Wh… What's goin' on?!"

"Wh-Where?!"

"What the hell?!"

"What is this?! Where the hell are we?!" Corkus demanded. "H-hey! Weren't… Weren't we just ridin' through a meadow?! Weren't we?! Are we dreamin' while we ride along?! Or else… Without noticin' it… Did we d… d… di—?!"

"Calm down!" Casca ordered, cutting him off before he could finish talking.

"Calm down?!" Corkus exclaimed incredulously. "How the hell am I supposed to calm down?!"

"SHUT UP!" Casca roared.

Everyone immediately went quiet.

"Keep cool! Don't dwell on what you can't understand! Do what you can do! Everyone in a tight formation! No strays! Guts, get Griffith on a horse!" Casca ordered.

"I know!" Guts responded, picking up Griffith and carrying him back towards the group. Guts was glad he was already wearing his armor and that he'd grabbed the broken remnants of his old sword that was left behind after the body of the demon Zodd had killed disappeared. It wasn't much but it was still as long as a normal sized two handed sword in its broken state, short by his standards but good enough, and it could still kill.

'Even in a situation like this she keeps a level head and can give orders… She's quite a woman. More so than I thought…' Guts thought, feeling proud of her. He was glad he was with her of all people and not some lesser woman.

"You okay, Griffith?" Guts asked, looking down at the frail man in his arms. Then he noticed something. Hanging off of Griffith's wrist. His behelit. The one he hadn't had when Guts and the others had saved him from the prison.

'Where the hell did that come from…? He didn't have it before. That monster even made a big fuss about him not having it… And what're those… Tears of blood? And the shape's different too… That's right… At the instant when the world went weird. Did this do it?'

"Ugh…" Griffith groaned weakly.

Guts looked at him and saw similar tears of blood running down his face underneath his helmet.

"Griffith…" he muttered, worried for his friend.

"B-big sis! Guts! L-look!" Someone shouted.

Guts looked and saw figures standing in the distance, on the giant face-hills. There were so many of them… Naked only vaguely humanoid figures with features warped in ways that marked them as very obviously inhuman.

"When did they…?" Casca muttered.

"The time has come… The time of the Great Nocturnal Festival! The feast that happens once an era! The Eclipse!" A monster declared.

'This is the eclipse?' Guts thought. This was supposed to be the point where he died? He frowned. No… This wouldn't be the end. He wouldn't allow it! He would kill every last monster here! He had to protect Casca and his unborn child! He had to protect Griffith and the rest of the Band of the Hawk…

"They come!"

"They are coming!"

"The advent!"

"The Sovereigns of the Supreme Beings!"

"The advent of the four guardian angels!"

Suddenly a massive woman began to emerge from the ground. She had long tendril-like hair, pointed ears, a slightly different build and musculature than a human giving her a somewhat uncanny appearance, and massive raven-like wings emerged from her back. The wings covered her, then hardened and became leathery. They transformed from wings like a bird to wings like those of a bat. The only piece of clothing that appeared with the transformation was a hard carapace-like corset that did nothing to cover her breasts, and a similar choker or necklace around her throat.

"Wha…?! Is that… A giant…? I thought Guts was…"

They were cut off as another being began to emerge. This one had glasses on a fat human-like face and it emerged from above them in the "sky" — if it could even be called a sky — rather than the ground.

It stretched like a drop of some overly thick fluid and stared down at them with malevolent glee.

Everyone started screaming.

In an instant the face shrank and became a tiny humanoid thing with short stubby tentacles instead of a lower body.

It cackled at them in sadistic glee before floating away.

Another figure emerged from the ground. This one was also fat and had a malformed face like some diseased infant. It had its bloated hands knit together in front of it.

"From one to the next… This is a dream! It's gotta be!" Guts declared. Though something inside of him told him this was real. All too real…

"AHHHHHH! NOOOO!" One of the Hawks screamed in abject horror.

"Wh-What now!?" Corkus demanded.

"Th-th-that!" The soldier shouted, pointing at the blackened sun.

Everyone looked. In the sky, the darkness of the Eclipse seemed to seep from it, forming a cascading shadow. The shadow lengthened and grew darker and darker eventually becoming a solid mass of something so impossibly dark it simply should not have been possible. Only then did its form begin to brighten and gain coherency.

A figure with an exposed brain, eyes sewn shut, and its lips forced back by wires in some cruel torturous display. A long black cloak or cape with a wide brim hung from its shoulders.

'Gods…? No… They're demons… They have to be…' Guts thought to himself. And looking at them, he was no longer so certain he could win this. Even if he killed every other demon here, those four… He might have been able to at least hurt one in his prime if it was one on one, but right now? He wasn't confident in his chances.

The gathered monsters roared, cheering for the giant demons.

"Wh-what's the deal?!" Guts demanded.

"At this time of great blessing…" The one with the exposed brain spoke. "I bid thee welcome to this distant setting. This abstract time. Ye lambs of the ungodly born of man… Enjoy this sacred nocturnal feast to the fullest."

The creature raised a hand and pointed at Griffith, in Guts' arms. "Thee, honorable child consecrated by the laws of causality. The Hawk."

"Honorable child…?" Casca wondered aloud.

"Laws of causality…" Judeau asked, confused.

Guts looked down at Griffith. 'What's that supposed to mean?' He wondered.

"Thou art the chosen one. At this time, in this place… The one chosen by the hand of the Great God. By the will of the King of the Immaterium, the Undivided One. We art kinsmen, o blessed King of Longing."

Guts felt Griffith flinch in his arms.

"…Kinsmen."

"Griffith…"

Guts looked at Griffith.

"Ah…" His brother groaned, staring up at the demons.

Guts grit his teeth and drew his broken sword from his hip, pointing it at them. "No way! ENOUGH 'A YOUR STUPID CRAP!" He shouted at them.

"Guts…" Casca muttered under her breath, sounding both surprised and worried.

The one with its brain exposed stood there, seemingly unphased. But it's posture shifted just enough that Guts noticed it. It acknowledged him, whether it intended to show it or not.

"Oho!" The one with glasses laughed.

The woman stared at him, an amused smile on her face.

"FIRST YOU DRAG US INTO THIS GOD FORSAKEN HOLE, THEN YOU SAY WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT! CONSECRATED CHILD?! KINSMAN?! KEEP YOUR STUPID CRAP TO YOURSELVES! I'VE EVEN SEEN THIS GUY NAKED! HE AIN'T GOT SO MUCH AS A TAIL GROWIN'! DON'T LUMP HIM TOGETHER WITH YOU FREAKS! IF ANYONE HERE'S HIS 'KINSMAN' IT'S ME, NOT YOU DISGUSTING DEMONS!" Guts roared at them.

Three of the four chuckled. The one with its brain exposed regarded him, albeit barely, but showed no other reaction.

"Such beautiful friendship… I'm sure you will make for an excellent sacrifice, Child of the Anathema."

"Sacrifice…?" He muttered, caught off guard by that.

"Yes. A precious sacrifice, so that he may become a 'demon'." The woman moaned.

"You think he'd sacrifice us…?" Guts snarled, offended by the mere thought.

"From the moment you took possession of that Crimson Behelit, you had the qualities to become a daemon prince of the Great Undivided One!" The one with glasses laughed.

Both Guts and Griffith looked at the crimson behelit, still crying blood.

"No… Perhaps I should say that because you had those qualities, it fell into your hands. That you used the behelit to summon us is evidence you are qualified to be our kinsman. After all, all the apostles gathered here used behelits to obtain their proper form."

'You don't mean… All of these are…?!' Guts thought to himself, thinking back to that monkey thing that had transformed into that freakish monster.

"Furthermore, the behelit you hold is no ordinary behelit."

"Only one who can be reborn as one of us, the guardian angels of the Godhand, receives it." The woman continued. "The crimson behelit. The Egg of the King. And the rest of you are invaluable sacrifices for the angelic advent. You shall be an especially valuable sacrifice, Child of the Anathema. Your resistance to fate and causality will not save you here, Black Hound. Nor will it change the outcome of this momentous event!"

"Sacri…fices…?" Corkus muttered, terrified. "We are…?"

The monsters began to transform, chuckling insidiously.

There was but one word to describe the situation they were in… despair.

"One 'a these… You're gonna turn Griffith into one 'a these monsters in exchange for our lives?" Guts growled.

"Not quite…" The woman stated, crossing her arms. "What will do that, is his will. He will offer all of you as a sacrifice."

"Griffith… Don't listen to them. I know the situation isn't great, but whatever they think they can offer you isn't worth it. We can try to find another solution to this. I never mentioned this before because I didn't want to get your hopes up, but I've been trying to think of a solution for this. Maybe a sorcerer or witch doctor can help heal you, like they taught me to fight off my poison. Or maybe we can make some kind of prosthetics that can let you walk and hold a sword. If you don't want me to siege Wyndham and make you King, we can find a solution so you can do it yourself. There has to be a way. You just have to have some patience is all." Guts told him.

Griffith looked away from the demons and towards Guts.

Guts gave him a warm smile. "Who are you going to listen to? No… Who are you going to trust? Me, your brother, or these damn monsters who want a human sacrifice. They're demons, Griffith. They're evil to their core. You know they are. Otherwise they wouldn't be demanding a human sacrifice. You aren't evil like they are. Don't let them get inside your head just because you're in a vulnerable state of mind. Come on. You're smart. You know this ain't worth it. These things are magic so if they were in any way good, they would just heal you up for some gold or something more reasonable. But they won't do that because they aren't good and they damn well don't have your best interests in mind. Just shake your head, no, and we can get out of here and work on finding a way to fix you up. I'll scour the whole world to find a solution if I have to. Just have a little faith. Unlike them, that's all I'm asking. For you to trust me."

Annoyance seemed to cross the faces of three of the four members of the Godhand. The skeletal one couldn't make facial expressions but his posture shifted indicating his frustration too.

"Your ability to defy fate is quite uncanny, Hound. But that will not be sufficient for this." The one with the glasses stated. "Do you honestly think your men will ever trust you again after this? Don't make me laugh. Even if you didn't sacrifice them here, the memory of the events that took place here would forever be burned into their memories. They'll always remember just how close you were to forsaking them. Even if you did somehow find a way to fix your wounds, it wouldn't really matter. The Child of the Anathema surpasses you in every way. He was born royalty, a great golden Emperor from the stars will descend to claim his lost son and he will go on to conquer a million worlds. He will accomplish things far beyond even your wildest dreams. You may be augmented and become more than you are, but even with the strongest possible augmentations you will never be on his level in any capacity. He is a god molded into flesh by his father. You are but a man. A mortal. And that's all you shall ever be. But you can become his equal. If only you accept."

"You can become a god." The woman said.

"You don't need to be a god! Since when has physical ability mattered to me?! I've been stronger than you and I left because I wasn't your equal! Because I was beneath you! And I don't want to conquer anything let alone a million god damn worlds! I would conquer Midland for you, if you wanted me to, but only because of the state your in! Once we fix you, that won't matter any more and you'll be able to do it yourself! If I have no choice but to go to the stars and conquer a million worlds, I want you to be there by my side! To be my brother! If you want, I'll give you a hundred worlds! A thousand! Just trust me and you can rule more than just Midland!"

"And all of it would be achieved not because of you, but because of him. No matter how many worlds you ruled it would be meaningless as you would have accomplished none of it. You would be entirely reliant upon him to fulfill your dream. We offer you nothing but the strength to achieve your desires with your own hands… Now enough with this farce. Hound, your power has no sway in this place, inundated with the power of The Idea." The skeletal one declared.

"All lies within the currents of Causality! Everything had been determined. All of your lives have been spun into this sacred point in time. 'The Eclipse.' The time is now at hand… For us to perform the Invocation of Doom."

The fat one raised its hands and declared, "Bring the child to the Altar!"

Suddenly the ground began to shift underneath them.

"Wh-what the…?!" Guts exclaimed.

Suddenly the ground bulged beneath them and they started to ascend.

"GUTS! GRIFFITH!" Casca shouted up at them.

Guts stabbed his blunt tipped sword into the mass of faces and tried to cling to Griffith. However, it was no use. His boots slipped and he started to slide down, dragging a massive cut into the mass of faces as he went.

He tried to reach out to grab Griffith but he missed and Griffith continued to ascend on the mass.

Jamming his fingers into the fleshy mass, he managed to stop his descent and continued to rise with the ever growing pillar. Until, eventually, it came to a stop.


Griffith was a child, screaming in horror as he stood upon a giant mass of bodies.

"UWAAAH! AAAAAAH!" He screamed as he tried to run. Then he stumbled and fell onto the pile. "Ah! Gah…"

He pushed himself up and saw he was covered in blood.

"What a noisy child. What are you fussing over?" Griffith turned and saw an old woman.

"Old lady… I-it's terrible! They're dead!"

"I knew that from the start." She responded.

"You knew… How could you?! You knew and you lied to me!"

"Was it a lie? This is the only road to that castle. There aren't any others."

"This is…?"

"I suppose those who wish to reach the castle must trample over the people who have fallen here. Otherwise all that will happen is you will end up as one of them. Look, even your friend did."

Griffith turned his head and saw a boy he recognized, holding a little knight doll. "Y…You're…"

"Are you going to that castle to become king? That's amazing. Hehehe! I want to become a knight. See?" The child held out the doll in his hands, showing it to Griffith. "Hey, take me along with you and I'll give you this. I really want to serve as a knight under you. C'mon. I'll try real hard. Is that okay?"

"N-no, it's not." Griffith stuttered, terrified.

"Huhhh? Why not?" The other boy asked, confused.

"I can't… I mean… I mean you're… you're… already dead…" Griffith mumbled, looking at the crossbow bolt sticking out of the other boy's chest.

"Why not?"

"Take us along with you."

Griffith looked back and saw dozens of dead soldiers shambling towards him. Each of them was someone he recognized. Someone who had died for his dream.

"We want to fight beside you."

"We're counting on your dream."

"Receive our swords."

"We wish to see the kingdom you'll build."

"We're sure we can fight to the castle if you're with us."

"Let us fight and serve your standard."

Griffith shook his head. "…No. I won't do it! I can't take you with me! Because you're dead! You're not alive anymore! So you'll never reach that castle…! I can't take you with me… I JUST CAN'T!"

He fell to his hands and knees. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

"My, my. What a child to say those things so easily to his friends. After all, aren't you the one who did this to all of them?" The old woman asked.

"Eh…?"

She pointed at the distant castle. "Well, aren't you? You brought them all so far. If only you'd never said you were going there, none of this would have happened."

"No… I never forced anyone to come along…"

"Well! What a thing to say! Just whose help do you think allowed you to get this far? Listen! The road by which you've come was laid entirely by those boys' corpses."

Griffith flinched.

"That isn't all of it. You were able to come this far thanks also to the corpses. They added for you so many times over. And now… look. If you want to go all the way to the castle… you'll have to pile up many, many more corpses…"

Griffith stared out at the castle and its daunting distance.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid now? Do you want to turn back?! You mustn't! Don't think that way! If you do that, this time you will become one of these corpses! See?! Look down at your own arms and legs!"

Griffith looked at his hands and saw they had started rotting.

"UWAAAAAHHHH!" He fell over, curling in on himself in pain. "My arms… My legs… Hahh!"

"You foolish child! If you're going to regret it, you shouldn't have even come here! This is not so nice a place!"

"SHUT UP! Griffith, don't listen to this hag!" A voice declared.

Griffith looked up and saw Guts standing next to him, holding his massive sword defensively. Most importantly of all, he was alive. He wasn't just another one of the corpses. There was something odd about him. A black aura surrounded him and his eyes were red. He almost resembled a monstrous dog. A great black hound guarding a member of its pack. For some reason, Griffith found comfort in his presence despite how scary he looked.

"She's lying to you, Griffith! There's another path forward through all of this! The road might be paved with corpses, but not the corpses of our friends! The only ones who need to die are our enemies! I can carry you the rest of the way, or we can find a way to fix your arms and legs and you can walk on your own! You just need to trust me! I'll give you more than just that shitty old castle! I'll give you a thousand worlds. More, if you want them! You will be one of the greatest rulers in history. One of the most powerful kings to have ever existed. All you need to do is have faith. I thought we were brothers? As your brother you know I would never lie to you. Even when you were at your lowest, I was upfront with you and told you the hard truth. And I'm telling you the truth now. Just trust me!"

Behind Guts, Griffith saw the night sky. Stars. Hundreds of them. Orbiting each star were planets. Some had more worlds, others had less, but each of them had some. Upon each world were entire civilizations. People. Subjects. One star shone brighter than the rest. Orbiting that star was a particular planet. On that planet was Midland. The seat of Griffith's power. His capital, from which he could rule all of those different stars.

The old woman scoffed scornfully. "How rich coming from you, hound. You who abandoned him just when he needed you the most. He left you behind, boy. All because of his own petty insecurities. Now look at you. If you listen to him, you will be a corpse just like the ones all around you. Nothing but a stepping stone for him and his father."

A shining golden light shown through Guts for a moment and the old woman stumbled back flinching away from it. She hissed as if she'd just been burned and the world trembled.

After a moment a darkness forced the light back and made Guts stumble back instead. He stabbed his sword into the ground to anchor himself and stop himself from being blown back like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

"Gah… That was close… His father attempted to interfere… But he is still so far away and this place is beyond his sight let alone his reach… Child, if you listen to the hound, you will have accomplished nothing. You will be nothing but a corpse being paraded around like royalty. Is that what you want?! Is that your desire?! To be little more than a rotting puppet?!"

"N-no…" Griffith whispered. "B-but… Guts… I…"

Griffith felt conflicted. He was being pulled in two different directions at once. Both sides were pulling just as hard. It felt like his body and soul were going to be ripped in half.

On one side was Guts. The only man he considered his equal. His brother. One he loved so dearly.

On the other, was the old woman whispering in his ear. Her words, all true and so very persuasive. Like a tendrils of darkness seeping into his mind and spreading through his soul like a poison.

He shook his head, clutching at it with his hands. He was crying. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know! He didn't!

"You'll never be his equal. You'll be a subordinate. Nothing but a soldier forever beneath him. He'll smile at you and call you brother to make you feel better, but it won't be true. You know it won't be. How could it be when you have to rely on him to fulfill your dream? You want to be his equal, right? You want to be his brother. Well, there's only one path you can take to accomplish that. You know exactly what it is. It might hurt, leaving him behind but isn't that what a friend is? Remember your parting words, exactly one year ago?"

Griffith did remember. He remembered them all too vividly.

"Remember the night you and the Princess were talking during that party? Out in front of Promrose Hall? You said, to you, a friend is someone who would never depend upon another's dream… Someone who wouldn't be compelled by anyone, but would determine and pursue his own reason to live… And should anyone trample that dream, he would oppose him body and soul… Even if the threat were you… So that's why… That's why I have to go. So I can find my own dream…"

"The same logic applies here, to you. If you were to rely upon him to fulfill your dream, you could never consider yourself his equal. You could never truly be his friend. So the time has come for you to leave him behind. Just as he left you one year ago. It's time. He is trampling upon it, intentionally or not, so it is your duty to oppose him body and soul. So get up. Get up and go to your castle. Achieve your dream with your own two hands. Pile up the corpses, just as you always have. There's nothing else you can do."

Griffith looked down at the corpses beneath him. He stood up.

'I have to be his equal… I have… I have to oppose him, body and soul… even if it's him… So that I can truly consider him my friend… So that I can consider myself his equal… Otherwise… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Guts… But I have to do this… I have to leave you, for the same reasons you left me… Is this what you felt that day? This regret? This despair? I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry…'

Griffith ran towards the castle.

"Wait! No! Griffith! You don't need to do this to be my equal! Damn it, just listen to me! NOOOO!" Guts howled behind him.

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep going. It was so hard. It hurt so much. But he didn't have a choice. He had to keep going… Even if… Even if Guts and the others…

"Yes, that is you." The one with the glasses stated.

Griffith found himself kneeling on the palm of a massive hand-like structure. Standing atop each of the fingers were three of the four demons. One of them, the one with the glasses, hovered above him.

'Was that an illusion?' Griffith wondered.

"It was no illusion. It's the reality written within your conscious realm. Eyeing the castle in the sky. Taking it by piling up corpses endlessly…? That is you! Over thousands of your comrades' corpses… Over the thousands of corpses they, in turn, amassed… Over those corpses with no identities or names… You have trampled as you came, with but one desire in mind!"

The woman spoke this time. "And now, your back alley path has been interrupted. But, behold… Even as they shake with fear, they gaze up at you with clear eyes. The ones left to you at the end of your blood soaked journey. The ones who've flown with you. The Hawk's wings. The feathers. One by one. They should forgive you… Even if they are now crushed by despair. They should welcome you warmly. Then you can go on living. Commit your wounded self to them. Bury everything in exchange for the past in exchange for the ruins of your dream."

'The ruins of my dream…'

"That is the cruel grace of the God born of mortals' desires." Spoke the skeletal one.

Griffith looked up at him.

"Even so if you still see it…" The creature raised a hand and pointed a finger. "If even now, that castle is in your eyes more dazzling than anything… Then pile it up. Take all you have left… Chant the words 'I sacrifice' in your heart… and you shall be granted raven-black wings upon which you shall soar in the heavens higher than any summit. If it be reason that destiny transcend human intellect and make playthings of children… it is cause and effect that a child bear his evil and confront destiny." A glowing symbol appeared in the demon's hand.

"GRIFFITH!" Guts shouted.

Griffith looked back and saw Guts had climbed the hand. Griffith turned his head back to the demons before him.

'Yes… Among thousands of comrades and tens of thousands of enemies… you're the only one… you're the only one… who made me forget my dream… my only equal…'

The hand closed around him.


"GRIFFIIITH!" Guts shouted, pounding at the massive fingers as hard as he could.

"Difficult though it was… The threads bundled by the laws of causality have now been bound… The promised time has come." The symbol in the demon's hands split and glowing lines of energy shot out. Each line hit the members of the Band of the Hawk in a different spot.

Guts felt something hit the back of his neck. He looked down the hand and saw the monsters closing in on his friends.

He looked back at the fingers for an instant before jumping back down. As much as it hurt to leave Griffith behind, he had to make a choice. To try and get Griffith out of there or to go down there and fight to protect the others.

It was hard choice. The hardest he had ever made. But he had to go down and save as many people as he could. He had to save Casca and his unborn child…

As he descended from the hand, he heard the skeletal demon speak.

"What has now been engraved upon your bodies is the brand of sacrifice. The lives of those engraved with the brand… Are demonic offerings. To the last drop of blood. To the moment of agonizing death. They become food for the child of darkness."

So this was it then… Griffith really had decided to sacrifice them… That realization hurt more than anything. Even the torture he went through every night he meditated to free himself of the poison paled in comparison to the emotional agony he was in now.

Soon. That pain started to turn to rage.

As he fell from the hand, he grit his teeth. Harder and harder. His anger building more and more the further he descended. The closer he got to the monsters. The more of his friends he watch them devour alive.

His anger built and built and built, becoming absolutely mind numbing. It surpassed even the rage he felt during his slaughter in Wyndham after seeing what they had done to Griffith. His hearts pounded hard in his chest. His blood boiled. Veins popped out. His vision turned red.

He angled his body to minimize surface area to make himself fall faster. He roared in fury, holding out his sword.

He landed on one of the biggest demons with enough force the ground quaked and the abomination was ripped in half.

A black mass seemed to seethe around him as he ripped his way out of the massive corpse. The mass was technically invisible to the naked eye but it was so intense that anyone who looked at him could swear they saw it and be one hundred percent honest.

Most of the demons seemed caught off guard and turned their attention towards him.

"RAAAAH!" Guts roared as he lunged into motion, cleaving through the demons with the broken remnants of the sword that slew Wyald.

"What the… How is this…? This is supposed to be the Great Nocturnal Festival! We should be invincible here… This is supposed to be our feast—" One demon asked, terrified, before Guts sliced its stomach and chest open.

"Focus on the Child of the Anathema! Once he's dead then we can—" Another of the demons shouted to the others before Guts jumped at him and ripped his head from his shoulders with his bare hands.

He turned and looked at the rest of the Hawks, "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET INTO FORMATION! IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, FIGHT! KILL THESE BASTARDS!" He roared.

The Band of the Hawk was broken out of their terrified stupor and did their best to obey his orders, trying to establish a solid defensive formation.

Guts felt something. He looked over at its source and saw Casca. It was their kid. It was doing something. Then he realized. It was calming her down. Giving her the strength to command. To fight. Despite the circumstances. And it was protecting her. Or it was trying to anyway. Almost as if it could sense what was going on.

Guts put that out of his mind and kept fighting. He couldn't let himself calm down or get distracted. With all the strength he could muster in his weakened state, he fought as hard as he possibly could. Pushing his flesh to the very limits of its abilities.

Some of the demons tried to attack the hawks but whenever the pressure on them seemed to be getting too much, Guts would launch himself away from whatever demon he had been mutilating to kill whichever one was proving too much of a threat for the others.

However, despite his best efforts, members of the Band of the Hawk were still dying. For some, the fear became too much and they broke formation and tried to run. At which point they'd be cornered and fall prey to the demons. Corkus died that way, among others

For others, they were just unlucky and got killed and eaten before Guts could rush to help them. Because, try as he might, he couldn't be everywhere at once. Especially not with the majority of these things trying to kill him

He broke a long straight horn off of one and wielded it like a spear or rapier in his left hand while he kept cleaving away with the broken sword in his right. He would throw the horn like a spear to kill from a distance to buy time, before rushing to grab it so he could keep using it. It still wasn't enough to save everyone. Their numbers kept falling.

"There's so many of them!"

"They just keep coming!"

Guts snarled, "DON'T YOU DARE BREAK NOW! KEEP FIGHTING! WE'RE WHITTLING THEM DOWN! THERE'S LESS AND LESS EACH TIME WE KILL ONE! SO KEEP FIGHTING! WE'LL MAKE IT OUT OF THIS EVEN IF I HAVE TO KILL EVERY LAST DEMON HERE MYSELF AND HAVE TO DRAG ALL YOUR SORRY ASSES OUT ON MY BACK!"

A demon with tentacles tried to grab Casca. Absolutely furious, Guts reeled his arm back and threw his makeshift spear. The horn stabbed into the thing. Then Guts rushed over and started violently hacking it to bits with his broken sword.

Something kicked him hard enough to genuinely hurt him and sent him flying.

When he came to a stop he got up and immediately had to dodge as a demon with obsidian skin, a long reptilian tail, massive wings, two giant horns, and a large sword attempted to cut him in half with its blade.

This one was different from the others. It felt more like Zodd. But it was different from Zodd too. Its demeanor, the way it carried itself. It seemed more like the Godhand, than anything.

"You have disrupted the ceremony quite enough, Child of the Anathema! No more! I, Be'lakor, shall be thy executioner!"

"COME ON THEN!" Guts shouted, lunging at the monster with his makeshift spear and his broken sword raised. He didn't care how different this demon was, he was going to kill it like all the rest.

He stabbed at the monster. It parried with its blade and attempted to slash at him while he was off balance. Guts deflected the strike with his broken sword. The force of the blow wrenched his arm and made him stumble back. This thing was as strong as Zodd. But unlike his fight with Zodd, he wasn't at his peak. He didn't know if he could win this.

He didn't care. He couldn't afford to lose here. He had no choice but to win and he damn well didn't care if he had to fight dirty to make that happen.

As Guts clashed with the demon, fighting with absolutely everything he had and barely managing to force a stalemate, the Band of the Hawk kept fighting for their lives. Casca kept shouting orders and trying to direct the men as best she could but without Guts it was a losing battle.

Then, something happened that got everyone's attention. The hand started to open. As it did, the skeletal demon began to speak.

"The birth… The fifth blessed king. The new Daemon King. Void! Slan! Ubik! Conrad! Thou art our extension. Our new kinsman to wear the mantle of evil. The wings of darkness, Femto."

Like a bird hatching from an egg, the being that used to be Griffith stood.

While Guts was distracted, Be'lakor grabbed him by the arm, wrenched the horn out of his hand and kicked his legs out from under him. He then bent Guts' arm to force him into a kneeling position.

Guts tried to struggle, to fight back, but in his weakened state he didn't have the raw physical strength to match this thing. Strong as he was regardless.

Femto spread his wings and took flight, descending down towards Guts who was being held in place by Be'lakor.

Guts struggled even harder as Femto landed in front of him. Thrashing in a rage and hate fueled attempt to get free so he could kill the traitor.

Femto stared at him and grabbed him by the face. Guts tried to stab him with his broken blade. With his free hand, Griffith caught his wrist and held it in place. "We are not equal as you are now. Not with that poison flowing through you. Not with you unaware of the true power you possess. But there is a way for you to be free. For you to survive this and for us to be true brothers still. Surrender yourself to one of the five Gods and be freed from the confines of your flesh, as I have. Two have already marked you and desire you."

"You bastard! I'LL KILL YOU! LET ME GO DAMN YOU! YOU FUCKING DEMONS! I'LL DESTROY EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! GRIFFIIIIITH!"

"You have two choices, Guts. To give in to Slaanesh, the God of Pain, Pleasure, and Excess. Or to give in to Khorne. The God of Rage, Violence, War, and Bloodshed… Seeing you now, Khorne does suit you. But Slaanesh marked you first."

Suddenly Guts felt incredibly sick. Almost all the strength left his body. A purple coloration began to mix in with the blood seeping from his wounds. Guts coughed and vomited up more of the purple substance. He heard voices whispering in his head. The same voices he heard in his visions whenever he fought the poison. He was engulfed in pure agony as he felt them clawing at his mind and soul. Though this time, oddly, mixed in with all the pain was the ghost of pleasure. A promise of what he could have if he gave in.

He resisted. He didn't want this. "No! NO! SHUT UP!" Guts roared at the voices in his head.

"Stubborn as ever… Then perhaps Khorne will have you instead."

More voices joined the cacophony in his mind. Goading him, trying to incense him and make him descend further into his rage.

"NEVER! NEVER! I… I REFUSE! GET OUT OF MY HEEEEAAAAD!" Guts screamed at the top of his lungs, denying everything.

"Hm… Such a strong will. Perhaps you need more of a reason. To descend further into the depths of hopelessness and despair before you finally give in. I'm almost envious, you know. Unlike me, you don't need to make a sacrifice. All you need to do is give in…"

Griffith released him and flew off towards what remained of the Band of the Hawk.

Guts' eyes widened as Griffith snatched Casca out of the group and flew off with her.

"NOOO! CASCA!" Guts shouted, struggling even harder.

"Big sis!" One of the last surviving members of the Band exclaimed.

"Shit! CASCA!" Judeau shouted, trying to throw a dagger at Femto. The blade merely bounced off his new carapace.

Griffith held Casca aloft over the remaining demons, staring at Guts. "You can save her, Guts. Surrender yourself, and accept the power being offered to you."

Guts worked up all of his strength and forcibly broke his arm. He then turned and used his sword to sever the flesh where the bones in his forearm had snapped. Now free of Be'lakor's grasp he charged towards Griffith as fast as he could manage with the forced resurgence of the poison.

Be'lakor all but tackled him. Pinning Guts to the ground, the demon grabbed the primarch by the head and forced it up, making Guts look. One of Be'lakor's claws dug into Guts' right eye.

"Hrgh! You insolent wretch! I was commanded to hold you, thus I will not allow you to escape my grasp!"

"GUTS!" Casca shouted.

Griffith seemed to flinch and glanced down at Casca's stomach. "Hmph… You did say you sensed she was pregnant. To think even that little fragment would try and fight… Ever so stubborn… Perhaps you need to witness the death of your dream to descend to the same depths of despair I had. Then, you will give in. You won't have a choice."

Griffith grabbed Casca's shirt and tore it open. Then he reached for her pants.

Guts rage ascended to entirely new hights he hadn't even known were possible. Were he a normal human, the sheer amount of incandescent fury he felt in that moment would have killed him a hundred times over. It was a rage that transcended his flesh and resounded in his very soul.

In absolute desperation and sheer soul shatteringly intense rage, out of instinct he howled out into the universe. His voice echoed through the warp, filled with all of his rage and pain. Something responded, calling back to him. A warm blindingly bright golden light enveloped him, Be'lakor hissed in pain as his flesh burned from the light. Suddenly the poison was forced to recede and Guts threw Be'lakor off of him. He charged forwards with his broken sword raised and jumped at Griffith. Launching himself far higher, far further, and far faster than should have been physically possible. His broken blade stabbed Griffith through the neck.

Using the stump of his other arm, he grabbed Casca and wrenched her from his grasp, using the broken sword embedded in him as a point of leverage.

Now with Casca in his grasp, he let go of the blade and kicked off of Griffith. Using the demon as a springboard to launch himself away. He landed near a corpse and quickly scooped up their sword. It was like a dagger to him, but it was a weapon.

Panting furiously, he held onto Casca defensively and held out his sword with his other hand. He was so angry he couldn't form words let alone coherent sentences. Instead he was just panting and furiously growling like a wild animal.

"All that anger and you still haven't given in to Khorne. You truly are amazing, Guts… All you need is one more push…" Femto said, darkly.

Suddenly the eclipse seemed to shatter and a skeletal knight descended from the sky. Everyone stared up at him.

Riding on the back of what appeared to be a skeletal dragon clad in armor reminiscent of his own, the knight rushed towards Void and swung his blade at him

A portal appeared between them. As soon as the blade entered the portal it emerged from another part of the portal in the opposite direction, turning back upon its wielder who blocked it with a small shield.

The knight exchanged a glare with Void and continued to descend, the dragon folded its bony wings and proceeded to run straight down the arm as if he were unaffected by gravity. He cleaved through demons with speed and skill that nearly rivaled Guts.

Seeing the Knight, Femto raised a hand and the bodies of the ones he had cut down slammed into him. The bodies crushed together in an ever tightening sphere of demonic meat, spraying blood as it collapsed in on itself tighter and tighter before becoming so small it vanished from sight entirely

Griffith looked at his hand.

Suddenly he heard a sound like something tearing. Looking back he saw the skeletal knight near the remnants of the Band of the Hawk with its sword now covered in a mass of what appeared to be behelits standing next to a portal.

"Get inside if you want to live!" The knight ordered.

The last surviving members of the Band of the Hawk didn't hesitate to rush inside. Guts was the only one who stood still. And that was only for a moment as he glared up at Griffith, trying to decide whether he wanted to stay and kill Griffith or to run and save Casca. Saving Casca won out and he rushed into the portal. The knight entered along with Guts.

Be'lakor chased after them, managing to get through the portal just as it started to close.

Inside wherever they were now, the Knight parried a strike from Be'lakor.

"Set the woman down! I shall need assistance for this if this is to end quickly!" The knight ordered.

Guts looked at Casca, who was currently weeping and looked back at the fight. He grit his teeth. Rushing over to the Band, he passed Casca to Pippin. "Keep her safe!" He snarled before immediately turning and rushing to join the skeletal knight in battling the massive demon, not bothering to wait for a response.

Alone, the skeletal knight was evenly matched with Be'lakor. With Guts helping him, even injured as he was, the tides turned quickly. The two of them managed to overwhelm and slay the demon. Its body vanished, but it wasn't like the demon Zodd had killed. This time it was as if it just evaporated. Asif it had never been there to begin with.


Roughly, nine thousand four hundred and twenty something words, or there about. The vast majority of which I finished today. Damn. This has to be the most I've typed in one day, or pretty close to it. Woohoo!

And I told you, the story would diverge pretty heavily in this chapter! Guts managed to save some of the members of the Band of the Hawk! Even if the rape had happened the way it did in canon, the survival of more of the Band of the Hawk would have still dramatically altered the direction of the story. So from here, things start going in a different direction from canon. Yay!

Anyway, I don't really like Femto's dialogue after he "hatches" but I've always sucked at dialogue. So there's that.

Also this isn't the original version of the Chapter. It's a one paragraph difference. The original was posted on A03 and Space Battles. I held off on uploading it here for a bit to see the general reaction so I could fix anything that proved too much of an issue. Upon suggestion, I edited the section where Guts overcame the poison. Instead of overcoming it through will alone like in the original, in this version the Emperor intervenes. Hopefully this version is a bit better.

For the sake of comparison, this was what it said originally:

"By pure force of will, absolute desperation, and sheer soul shatteringly intense rage, the poison was forced to recede and he threw Be'lakor off of him. He charged forwards with his broken sword raised and jumped at Griffith. Launching himself far higher, far further, and far faster than should have been physically possible. His broken blade stabbed Griffith through the neck."

I might change it back or I might leave it as is. That said, I'm probably going to update the chapter to give the Skull Knight some kind of mount once I decide what the warp entity ghost of a Proto-Phoenix Lord should be riding. That won't be a major change unless I give him something particularly dangerous, it'll mainly just be flavor.