WARNING: Violence, blood, death.
The Zealot
It was in a vast room that a man of advanced age worked, an ostensibly mystical place of two stories in an open floor plan. The architecture was archaic, of the Doric order, with decorative columns that widened as they became distant from the ceiling above, superimposed on olden walls. The marble in use was also old, but well-maintained, and the passages in each end — one after the wide stairs and another prior to them — were beautifully decorated regardless of their simplicity, with fluted sides and circular corners.
The tables on the lower platform were of the same material, although their bodies were often covered by thick, vermilion fabric boasting golden trims. They had many piles of books, old parchment, and a strange collection of machines. Standing over a podium in particular was an orrery, with its exposed metal gears and polished spheres dangling off the stand's own radius.
The one working sat by a table on the very side; it also exhibited a few books piled on the corners, apart from a journal with letters in Greek script, numbers in Milesian digits, drawn with the aid of a less ancient dip pen. The most singular feature to it, however, was an elliptic plate of glass attached to the center, covering an apparently fluid bundle contained in a space carved in the rock. This stained yet clear glass was no less bright than the crystals illuminating above, though its light bore a teal hue.
Dressed in naught but a black mantle, it was clear that, despite the man's age, he was in good health. The ashy, pale skin on the face had the usual signs of advanced years, but his neck had good girth, as did his shoulders, those signs of a healthy and strong body. His slender, hazel eyes were often shadowed by the long, graying hair that he left wildly loose, despite how meticulous the job in front of him seemed.
He had the fingertips of one hand pressed against his temple, where a red aura burned, for he was quite capable of the Cosmos. As he did so, his left eye turned of a similar shade, and his enlarged pupils attentively stared at the liquid beneath the glass. After mumbling something to himself, he pressed a button on a counting mechanism behind the journal, pulled a copper lever below the table, and lowered the hand to the glass. That redness of the aura he did retain, though this time the fluid was emptied, escaping into a space opened beside it, where it vanished.
He pulled the lever the other direction, and with the Cosmos he eased more fluid into the compartment, before he left the lever in its original position. Once more he brought the hand to the temple and stared through the glass into something no ordinary folk could see. He pressed the counting mechanism another time, but this once to mumble more audibly: "Aiacos again. Hm..."
After allowing that fluid to freely exit, he dipped the pen and wrote the value he saw on the mechanism, beside scribbles that could not be interpreted. Next he got up and walked to the wide stairway. Rather than leaving past the passage, he went to the upper platform, where many short shelves full of books had been organized in tight rows. There was a small, well-made bed on the opposite side, and it was clear that the man oft slept there.
An index was all he needed to slide through the side of hard covers and count to the item he sought, despite no letters identifying it. He took that book and opened to reveal yellowed pages with the ink of pens rather than print, and went straight to a specific marker he had long placed. The information seemed only partially enlightening to him, so he had to bring the book down to a different table.
He pulled a large piece of paper that had been manually ruled in quadrilles, this being close to a long ruler. Having taken the dip pen and journal from the other table, he plotted a graph with dots on a plane, full dots for the recent values, and hollow ones for the past ones. What could be observed were a series of similar fluctuations that followed an obvious pattern, that was until they radically dipped and remained on the low intermittently.
"I cannot be the only one who noticed it this once," the man said as he cut the plotting early, seeing that the message was already obvious. "Alas, Rhadamanthys is the flavor of man to be unbothered by lack of work."
Past the passage, this fact led the man to multiple places in the building, including a few folk he spoke to; the last one, however, was a circular hall by the end of a parallel corridor. A raven-haired, young woman was dressed in a similarly dark himation, much more intricate with how it covered her hands and tied below the knees, this over an equally detailed tunic. She sat on a chair and plucked the strings of an angular harp rested atop the lap.
Because her straight hair was as long as Athena's, she had to pull it behind her so that it would not get in the way of her playing, yet it was clear she was of excellent musicianship too. When the older man entered the place, he dared not speak, preferring to bow the head and await her attention. Her large, dark brown eyes gazed on — the faint spots below only making them that more striking — and attention was promptly given.
"Speak, Minos," she said, with a voice somber and monotone.
Minos raised the intensity of his tone as much as he was wont to, revealing that it to be deep and soft at once: "Lady Persephone seeks you. She currently resides in her quarters." Without response, she left the harp on a small ebony stand near her and got up. Once closer to the man, he finally raised his face, though the messy hair largely occluded it. "Pardon the intrusion."
"I tire of the harp," she told him, and the two exited the room to walk down a corridor in unison.
"I am certain Lady Persephone would not have me disturb you, if not for the matter's urgency," revealed Minos, piquing the woman's interest.
"And what may such urgency be?"
"An anomaly where disembogues Styx, my Lady. A significantly lesser rate of souls have been sent to be judged by Rhadamanthys, whereas those who Aiacos is meant to judge arrive as expected."
"I do not see a connection," argued the woman. "It could all be fine this once; might as well be explained by the humans growing out of their infantile tendencies. Haply they heeded the wisest among them and forsake violence."
Minos wished to object, though he restrained himself and nodded. "You could be right," he said, then stopped by the stairs to another corridor. "I shall return to my post."
"Thank you, Minos. Lady Persephone will hear of me at once," the girl assured him, and therewith they parted ways.
The woman went the opposite of him, past a larger passage and into a great hall, a place where court would apparently be held at some point in the past. The long marble benches were empty, as was the rest of it. Narrowing stairs finished on a platform surrounded by white curtains and veils, which covered the bright lights beyond. Only the shadow of the throne and dais far behind could be seen, and she crossed into the area to disappear by the sides.
Face-to-face with a tall, red wooden door, she knocked and expected the passage of several seconds before opening. Persephone was within, a thin teenage girl, also of a clear Greek complexion, skin mildly tan, round brown eyes, and chestnut hair with defined curls and bangs. Her robes and tunic were red, even more intricate than the other's, with black frills adorning every edge. Even with how meticulously her hair had been sculpted, she hid much of it under a loose hood.
She turned upon hearing the door be knocked, and lifted the parchment Minos had scribbled his graph on, close to a set of shelves by the wall. The quarters were wonderfully organized and decorated, red and black being the preferred accents for the rugs, sheets, and furniture.
"May I enter?" the woman asked.
Persephone gracefully signaled with the head and turned, saying: "A statistical anomaly has taken place off the river Styx, Minos says." Her voice was youthful, as was expected of a teenage vessel; nonetheless, the stateliness of her lilt was of a much older person.
"I heard the summary from him, my Lady," replied the visitor after having shut the door.
"Are you aware of what that entails?"
"Lost souls are not reaching the rivers."
"Sure, that much is obvious," the goddess said, "but worse, this is typical sign of Cancer not being looked after, and you know what has caused it before. Beyond that, if a hindrance long holds the descent of souls, a point might come where none remain to be reincarnated. Not now, though in a century or so — we cannot allow this."
"What do you wish of me, my Lady?"
"Athens currently relishes in springtime, therefore I may not leave, as per the terms. You, however, are free to wander, so I ask that you send word to my father."
There was some arrest in the face of the older woman, and she disguised it by bowing in respect. "You wish for me to visit Heaven, but would it not be simpler to go to the Temple of Cancer straightaway?" she suggested.
"That would risk a diplomatic incident, and it is a time most improper for such. Let us be safe and inform my father instead — by this I mean him directly, not any of my siblings, who are prone to make matters worse."
The woman bowed both head and torso lower this time. "As you wish, Lady Persephone," she agreed, leaving the goddess alone.
In contrast to the realm outside that great building, that lived in eternal darkness, with neither day nor night; and in contrast to Sanctuary, where only the stars and galaxies could naturally illuminate the folk; Heaven was a place of more diverse views. In one end there was eternal night, and the full moon stood guard above; in another end there was eternal day, the sky ever blue and the sun shining through the few clouds; in between, they experienced an eternal golden hour, as if blessed by unending crepuscule.
It was befitting that either half possessed the temples of Artemis and Apollo respectively, the twins and children of Zeus most influential amid the gods. It was in the twilight that the court was held, however, and where the head of the Olympians resided.
At the lightest side, a young man rested on the rocks near a small waterfall. A river flowed from it, down a long stream that got lost in the overgrown bushes of a lush forest. His side-swept hair was of a mahogany tone, fair skin with a farmer's tan, face covered in freckles, such was his hunger for sunlight. His body was mostly covered by a white, intricately tied mantle, although some of the skin was exposed to reveal defined muscles and peculiar plates of armor.
Their metal reflected the environment like the most polished of silvers, although that was not their material. Gold was used to fill the etchings of solar motifs, nymphs, Apollo's harp, and the more striking one in the center of the cuirass: a winged boy that reached a finger out to the sun's surface. Unlike the Cloth of Gold Saints, his armor did not cover as much of the body, despite fluted and curved shoulder pads, layered like wings. The tiara he wore was no different, with a flat, circular center, some ends risen like the feathers of a dove.
His eyes were closed, but they were revealed as dark brown once the sound of steps alerted him. Because they struck the ground harshly, he knew those were boots like his own, rather than the bare feet of the women bathing near the fall. "Get up," a tomboyish voice demanded.
From above the sight of a girl was visible, her hair so scarlet as to seem redder than Marin's, and her fair skin, too, incredibly freckled like his own, irises no less brown. Her adult age was subverted by the roundness of her rosy cheeks, howsoever delicate were her chin and straight nose, the latter Occidental at first glance. Where she hailed from, if any place on Earth, remained a mystery by the fact that her eyes were shaped like Far-Eastern people.
Despite the longer hair, she had tightened it in two braids each by a side of her head, which fell as low as her bosom. Her bangs had cut incredibly short, although the back showed how wavy and curly those copper strands truly were.
The youth got up, and he saw how she wore similarly white wraps betwixt her brass-colored armor. Her pads were thinner, lighter, closer to the skin, and her cuirass had been shaped as to expose her feminine figure, regardless of how strong and toned she was compared to the average. Her tiara had a crescent moon at the center, and no wings like her friend's. The motifs were in electrum, with the imagery of women chasing game with javelins boun, a war bow, and Artemis' lyre. On her cuirass was the image of a bear caring for a human infant as if she were her cub, the textures of its fur tortuous and mesmerizing.
"I apologize, I fell deep in relaxation," said the man with a sigh.
The girl only raised an eyebrow and crossed the arms. "Come. A nymph passed word that Zeus is calling for you and me," she told him, and at the mention of that name he immediately got off the rock.
"Just us?"
"She didn't mention anyone else, so…"
"Best to not leave him hanging."
Their destination was the monumental edifice on a rocky mount, very much in the center of the realm's crepuscular section. It was encircled by tall stairs of marble that lead to a round platform, which itself surrounded many statues as replacement for pillars. Each of the Olympian gods was represented there, including Athena, but so were legendary heroes and other conspicuous Earthlings.
Going up the stairs, they saw that many people rested and chatted there, and that past the columns some enjoyed the shade, out of the fading sunlight. Only one tall entrance was present beyond that area, guarded by a duo of heavily-armored soldiers. They pulled their crossed spears out of the way so that passage was given, and therefore the pair went into the great hall.
The ceiling extended far up, exposing many openings with stained glass, such that the orange sky refracted in to brighten the floor with colors and shapes. What they saw was familiar, the many gods who frequently attended the court, their lesser courtiers, and attendants.
From the back, outlining the colorful wall that depicted what many believed to be myth, was an ornate cleft of polished stone. That was the source of the most powerful shine in the area, pure white, glaring against those who looked straight at it. Only the shadow of a large man and his tall throne could be observed, and the two went straight towards it, for that was Zeus.
As they passed between the courtiers, they noticed the sight of the one sent there by Persephone, this time covered in a thicker, hooded cloak to protect her sensitive skin. She stood aside from the throne, clearly exchanging words with the head of the gods.
"Weird girl, dressed like a whole funeral," the redheaded youth commented.
"All-black robes tell me that is Lady Pandora, whom you mustn't have met. She only delivers bad news from down under," clarified the other Angel.
The girl sung grumpily: "I sure hope this doesn't involve another stay in hell."
"Do not put your hopes up." They came side by side with her, who avoided any exchange of stares, and bowed before Zeus' splendor. They could only look directly at him carefully, and even then, only an outline was visible, ever blurred by corona. "My Lord."
Zeus uttered words, and when he did so it boomed from his chamber despite how calm it was, and so they could hear him no matter the distance: "Tell them as you told me, Pandora."
Finally the black-clad visitor turned, lowering the head as formality. "I appreciate you attending our call. One of the judges was made aware of a statistical anomaly downstream from Styx. The last registry of it came two centuries ago, when the Cancer Saint was led astray from duty for many hours," she explained.
"Due to what?" the young man interrupted to ask.
"A war in Sanctuary." The duo frowned and turned to their god, but he signaled the hand to Pandora so that they would listen. "We know not if this is the same case, so Lady Persephone asked that her father be made aware."
"Hence why I bespoke you, Angels," said Zeus. "Icarus, Atalanta, descend to Earth and enter Sanctuary, uncover what end befell Cancer, and ensure that one maintains the stream of souls as required. These are your orders."
"Aye, Lord Zeus," Icarus agreed, and the two Angels curved themselves a last time. Ere they left, however, the Olympian caught their ears.
"A last suggestion," he offered, and they momentarily halted. "My dear Athena certainly reincarnated no less than a decade ago. Were the opportunity to present itself, speaking to her first is the preferred course of action."
Atalanta had a glimpse of Pandora's expression shifting at the mention of Athena, though she hid her face by aiming it at the light. Nonetheless, she agreed: "We'll do that then." Therewith they nodded and left the court, that they could descend to Mount Olympus.
Skirmishes around the academy and in the outskirts notwithstanding, the situation in Sanctuary had gotten better. The ascent through the Ecliptic Temples, however, continued dire. Seiya and Shiryu had finally entered the Temple of Capricorn, though they found the hall to be entirely empty. Because no Saint had come to greet them from the side exits, they thought to leave for the backyard behind.
"Another empty temple," Dragon remarked.
"Fine by me." As they deemed it safe enough, they crossed the exit and reached Capricorn's backyard, with the altar to one side and the outlook to the grounds. It was from the latter that Capricorn Shura oversaw the situation of the war, witnessing calm in the areas where armies had been established, and chaos in the region besieged by Shaina's troops.
Upon seeing him turn, the Bronze Saints stopped and watched him walk over, so he blocked the stairway behind him. He had a helmet under the armpit and no intent of fighting at that point, since he somehow expected them.
That was likely due to insights given to him by Aquarius, whom he mentioned by name: "So Camus spoke the truth, lowly Saints have come this far up the temples. Lowly is the incorrect word, then — to pass by any of us, you must be of the highest ability. Impressive."
"Is there anything we could say to get us through without a fight?" Shiryu tested the waters.
Shura, however, became deadpan serious. "That is a ridiculous question," he harshly responded. "No Gold Saint should allow visitors without good reason, not in this situation."
"We have good reason," said Seiya.
"Go ahead, try your luck."
"Athena is dying in the Temple of Aries right now, and we have to get to the Pope to save her."
The guardian rested the forehead on the tip of his fingers, allowing the black hair to fall over it. First he snickered, though this evolved into a chuckle, till he stared at then again and laughed more openly. "It cannot be…" he spoke amid breaths "… that you have come up this far with that sorry excuse!"
"Athena is in danger!" Seiya yelled out of offense, but Shura merely shuttered the cackle to be as serious as he expected.
"Perhaps you have fooled others, that I cannot know. I must suggest, however, that you give up on fooling me," he said, then he pointed to both eyes. "With those I have seen Lady Athena long ago, in the place where she since resides, under the Pope's watchful protection. Had she left that place, I would have seen her at this point."
"In that you are grossly mistaken! Even Mu admitted this and let us through without a fight. In fact, he is the one caring for Lady Athena's unconscious body," explained Shiryu.
Shura snarled and tightened the fingers into a fist at the thought of Athena being injured, although his gripes went further. "You dare accuse Mu of treason, insolent heretic."
"I don't know how many times I'll have to repeat that we're not lying!" Seiya said.
"During war, words are devoid of meaning," Shura affirmed as he put the horned helmet back on, a sign that battle had become the only escape. He planted both boots well on the rocky ground, but did not seem to lift the arms, a distinctive fighting stance. "Bring Mu to me, or have Sanctuary's punishment for heresy handed to you."
Seiya and Shiryu rose their own Cosmos, thus it was clear to the man that they had stepped foot into Capricorn not by some clever scheming, but by means of brute force. Regardless of it all, he felt confident in his ability to hold them back long enough.
Half a second had passed and suddenly the three of them began a wild strife, Shura blocking their escape with his whole body as needed. It was visible to them he wasn't especially fast for his rank, but his strategic promptitude was unparalleled. With how experienced he was at using the Cosmos in combat, he used it with envious precision, spending only the energy and time needed. This proved enough to earn them a few kicks back to the porch.
Weaker at face value, the Bronze Saints alone were too little of a threat; as two, in the other hand, they proved to be a problem even for Capricorn. Once came an instance when Shura easily kneed Shiryu back, decently cracking through one of the greaves. Seiya advanced simultaneously and was shoved to the ground, but not at an angle that fully stopped him.
That younger warrior, quick as he was, deviated back down, regained equilibrium in a fraction of a moment, and made it for the stairway. Such an escape would not have been allowed by the Gold Saint, who chased after, but Shiryu launched himself into his arm. Because they reached comparable speeds, Shura lost balance and the foe lost a few more shards of Cloth, though Seiya had already gone way past his reach. Nearing the speed of light, he disappeared in the distance.
Dragon would've done the same had it not been for what Capricorn did next. His arm shone white as he stretched it, and with a slice that cut through all, he divided a quarter of the floating backyard's foundation from the rest. Impressed, Shiryu rolled back and felt the rocks beneath shake, the magical construction of the temples pushing a crevice apart into a bizarre horizontal balance. Not only that place trembled, but the houses above and below, as did their respective stairways.
He yet stared in awe once he got back up to a stance. "Not all of that was Cosmos," the Bronze Saint said to himself. Shura raised the same arm threateningly, so Shiryu winced and put the shield arm to the front, only to realize it had already been obliterated a while ago — somehow he knew, however, even the Dragon Shield would not withstand whatever had been shown there. "So you are of mystical upbringing, like Mu and Kiki."
Capricorn's arm glittered, as if reflecting more of the stars than such armor normally would. "No, it is not by my upbringing that I possess this. I was given this ability soon after I became a Saint," he said.
"How so?"
The arm was instead stretched to the side and rotated; the closer the sparkles were inspected, the dreamier they appeared. "It is with this power that the primordial Uranus was slain by his own son, Cronus. This is the power of the blade above all blades, the harpe of the Golden Age!" he told. "Passed down to Zeus, it served gods and heroes alike; Hermes, Perseus, Hercules… that is until it was lost to history." When he relaxed the arm, the glow finally dissipated. "It went by many names — the Harpe of Cronus, the Sword of Zeus, Godslayer — but reappeared millennia after as Caliburnus — Excalibur!"
"Excalibur?" Shiryu gasped. "The legendary sword…"
"After this power was abused in godly conflict, the Olympians tasked our Lady with safeguarding it, so she cast it deep into blessed waters. She has since appointed the Capricorn Saint to be imbued with it, and that is how this essence resides within me."
"So, even if indirectly, you have been entrusted with great power by Lady Athena herself."
"You are right. Only the most loyal servants of our Lady and Sanctuary may fulfill the role of Capricorn. It is natural that we receive this offering, and you won't be surprised to learn that the traitor, Sagittarius Aiolos, met his end at Excalibur's edge!"
Dragon frowned in surprise, and it didn't take long for him to note his Cosmos would have to burn again. "It's you!" he exclaimed. "You are the one who killed Aiolia's brother!"
"Or so I'm told, though I assume I was the last one to strike him in full."
"I do not wish to battle with you, but I'm afraid there's no option."
"With your friend having gone through, I must agree."
"No, that's not why," Shiryu contradicted him, but he measured his words. He feared the truth would hurt Shura deeper than any injury ever could. "Tell me your name."
"Capricorn Shura."
"I am Dragon Shiryu. Shura, you seem staunchly loyal to Sanctuary and our goddess, but your zeal was taken advantage of by an actual traitor."
"Again coming with the lies, are we, Dragon?"
"You're correct in believing that words are meaningless where we are, I just feel the need to warn you before it's obvious. Regardless of how the war goes, you don't seem to be one to forgive yourself for what you've done. I have seen mercy given for this, and I think it's best that you die by my hand rather than your own."
"You speak of mercy, apostate," a more furious Shura replied, lifting that dreaded arm as if insulted, "but you only aggravate your sentence by letting words out of your mouth."
Shura growled and swung down the arm to summon Excalibur's energy again, this once with measured effort, as to not bring upon further structural damage. Shiryu dodged by little, standing with his body sideways, then skipped onward to engage him.
He was unable to overwhelm that Gold Saint with moves, for he was dodged and parried each and every time. Capricorn came back with well-aimed palm-heel strikes to his flailing arms, finishing the sequence off by planting both hands at once, one in the chest and another in the stomach.
After finally missing a kick, Shura rotated full-circle with momentum, so Shiryu felt that the way was clear to punch him as violently as he could. Despite this, his arm was used as a stand for the man to flip back and, while he gyrated midair, slice with the arm a third time. This Dragon could not evade, therefore he was hit on the corner of the torso, opening an injury that extended to the shoulder. Excalibur was capable of digging into the Bronze Cloth, ripping skin and blood before being depleted of energy.
Shiryu landed and slid about to a stop, pain piercing through him. Behind him, a splatter stained the marble red, so he frustratingly stared at his foe.
"Let that be your last warning," said Shura, readied for their next bout.
Their strife would go on for long, but meanwhile, the situation in the grounds' central square had become more active, with ongoings to invade the academy. Rebels moved about, reassigned to different positions and duties, and the quantity of sentries had grown abundantly. The gate's pavilion was squared off as before, watched high and low from the palisades, blockades, and rooftops. From where they were, those capable enough with the Cosmos could only feel the pressure far up in the Twelve Houses, apart from the occasional sounds echoing over the streets.
After so long, the curtains moved like at the arrival of Athena's retinue. A man of the watch, standing on one among the higher bulwarks, tapped his colleague's shoulder and pointed. "There are more people coming in," he whispered.
"No way!" Those who traversed from Earth were the Angels, Icarus and Atalanta. This sentry ran to a bell and struck it at a rhythm, which he followed with screams: "Visitors at the gate! Visitors at the gate!"
"Those are not civilians, but… what Saints are they?"
Icarus scanned the sentries who prepared to attack in case of a threat, but Atalanta seemed more intent on taking in the sight of the nightly sky above, since they feared no soldier. "Eeeh!" she let her voice draw out in surprise. "Sanctuary's sky is way nicer than Heaven's, but it should be the other way around, right?" Her view lowered and she noticed the mess that had been made of the square, with obstacles and wood hammered together. "All this scrap though…"
"This is not how I expected Lady Athena's grounds to look," her friend said with more concern.
"Over there," Atalanta waved at one of the red flags hoisted by the rebels, "they got makeshift ensigns."
"A civil war then. The Underworld's suspicion was right."
"Hey! The two of you down there, hey!" a guard yelled from above, and the Angels looked at him. "Friend or foe? State your business!"
"N-…" Atalanta inspired air and opened her mouth to speak, but was cleanly disrupted by her partner.
"Speak not," he said.
She stared at him with widened eyes and a pout. "Ah, Icarus, I was just going to answer his question! Why be so stuck up?"
"Hey, we're serious!" the guard kept shouting at them. "State your business, or we're going to attack!"
Atalanta raised her brow as if to tell her friend what would take place if they didn't speak. "Heard him?" she asked. "If we don't reply, they might just do that."
"Let us not get involved in their affairs. We should get to the Ecliptic Temples at once," said Icarus.
"Okay, okay, I know! Off to the temples it is," Atalanta sung.
The guard continued: "Hey, this is your last warning! Friend or…" After a mere step, the Angels flashed like beams and swerved in the corner of the watch's vision, fleeting blurs flying afar. The soldiers, scared, went up in arms, released arrows and bolts, though they struck nothing. In fact, it seemed the newcomers had vanished. "Where did they go?"
"Eyes peeled!" a sentry warned. "Enemy Saints might have infiltrated!"
However, no attack ever came to fruition, as it was not the Angels' intention. Instead, they flew straight to the Temple of Aries, where Mu, Kiki, and Aldebaran watched over Athena's state. They had lied her over the smithing table, and cleaned the entry wound often to ensure it would not get infected so soon.
With the back of the hand, Aries sensed for her temperature, that was very warm. "She's yet feverish to the touch," he said.
Aldebaran breathed out in worry, saying: "So many hours gone, and so far…" he looked up to the ceiling, imaging the way to the last temple "… it feels as if only one of them is reaching Camus."
"I sense that too, but she has little left when it comes to time." Mu cleaned the wound off of a minute amount of pooled blood, and felt for the arrow's stiffness. It had gone deeper into her chest by virtue of the curse, and, had he no self -control, this would've panicked him. "Aldebaran."
"Hm?"
"Be at the ready. Soon you may have to go up and aid them after all."
"Finally! I was about to lose my mind and storm up anyway."
It was in that moment that they felt the newcomers' Cosmoi drop ahead of the stairway below. Its intensity was such that even Kiki was able to note it, and Mu's expression changed to a grimmer one.
"Marin and Phoenix went up already, so…" he muttered in thought and looked at Taurus for a second. Making a decision, he got up to work on rising the Crystal Wall anew. "Perhaps you will see why it was best that you waited, if these are Specters."
"I hope not," said Aldebaran.
In contrast to their tension, the Angels casually chatted while they walked up. "Wait, so we'll have to jump up that huge flight of stairs to speak to her?" Atalanta asked.
Icarus curtly responded: "Aye."
"That sounds like a bit too much."
"Lady Athena is the primary target of many covetous gods. I am sure Sanctuary judges no extremes to keep her from harm."
"But we'll pass by Cancer anyway, let's just check the temple out and go back!"
"Not without trying Lord Zeus' suggestion."
Atalanta slumped a little and complained: "Guuuh…" They reached the porch and saw as Aries held the Crystal Wall up, whereas Aldebaran towered behind him, both ready to act as needed. Kiki, in the other hand, had gone into hiding. "Those are definitely Saints," the girl whispered.
"Likely Aries and Taurus," her friend deduced. "Allow me to do the talking."
"Fine, silver tongue," the other Angel said with both hands raised. She then lagged behind his steps and rested the back of her head on her palms, so that she could stretch while they conversed.
Thanks to their keen perception and knowledge, they stopped shy of the crystals, well aware of their position. Mu squinted at this, and seeing Icarus bow, he did not give in immediately. "Way's shut," he informed him. "What is the meaning of this visit?"
"Greetings. I am Icarus, and she is Atalanta, both serving as ears to Lord Zeus. He longs for answers from his daughter," said the young man.
The Gold Saint rose the chin in clear cynicism, to think that people of their rank would be sent at such a sensitive moment. "How are we supposed to trust you?"
"There lies the tension in our arrival, you cannot trust us and vice-versa."
"Then I cannot let you pass."
Icarus calmly nodded and attempted to persuade him with reason and mild flattery: "We wish to not get entangled in Sanctuary's affairs, so, if it suits you, you can escort us to Lady Athena. We do not mind being overseen by the likes of Gold Saints."
The Gold Saints were apprehensive, and while they debated, Atalanta couldn't help but notice the faint, fluctuating energy of Athena on the smithing table. She saw her body and was visibly puzzled, especially when Kiki's fiery hair stuck out from a pillar like a sore thumb. Lacking scruples, she questioned the guardian: "Aries, right?"
"Atalanta…" her partner wished to silence her, so that she would not ruin the negotiations, but she had something else in mind.
"Just give me a second," she said. "There should be hospitals here, so what's up with that passed out woman on your table?"
After paying further attention, Icarus noted the same and found that to be a valid concern, so he waited on an explanation. Mu, however, hesitated at first; since they were too knowledgeable and powerful to fool, he chose to make the first sacrifice in the name of mutual trust.
"That is Lady Athena herself," he revealed, so Atalanta's face fell dead serious and she lowered both arms in anticipation. "She has been struck by some maledict artifact…"
Icarus, who had also become alert, swung the hand forth with fingers stretched and tightly packed. With perfected Cosmos usage, the Crystal Wall crumbled at its first wobble, so the Gold Saints stepped back and kindled their own energies. The Angels did not respond in kind.
"You sounded sincere, so my Cosmos shall remain sheathed. I will check on Lady Athena's state, and were either of you to attack, such would be evidence of blame for her injury," the Angel said. Atalanta went over to the table while he spoke, but he did not falter in following.
Only the girl kept an eye on the Gold Saints, who were wary, but the other Angel was happy to expose his back to them. Kiki slipped off his position to hide behind Taurus, who was large enough of an obstacle in case of an attack, at least to the brain of a child.
Icarus studied the poor predicament of Zeus' prized daughter. He saw how hurt she was, the scars of her past attacks, and also that recent one, Thanatos' fletch sticking out of her skin. That was where a tether seemed drilled into, connected from a place far up in the realm, down where Athena's fading Cosmos continued to fight back the curse. Reaching hither with a hand, he cautiously studied the air around the wound.
"Don't touch her!" Mu protectively yelled. This startled the Angel only slightly, and he fancied turning to berate him, though his patience was enough to bury the nuisance.
"Straight to the heart, a clear sign of direct targeting," he described to the girl.
"How is she?" Atalanta asked.
"Not fully unconscious, as you may have felt. This arrow too…" At that point he nearly touched the runes and constructions, but that wicked energy seemed intent on corrupting him as much. With that the Angel collected the hand and tightened his fingers. "Corrupt energy, nothing to be done. Lady Athena's death is certain."
"Damn it!" the girl growled and looked to the side. "And Zeus won't like those news whatsoever."
Icarus turned around and assumed a position ahead of the girl, his expression as mad as what he uttered next: "Know you anything of the wretch responsible for this grave sin?"
Aries was almost too ashamed to tell him. "We… we believe it to be our own Pope," he stammered.
"He shall be punished in Heaven if not here. Now, Lady Athena is out of question, so we are to garner answers regarding Cancer ourselves."
"Cancer? What is with him?"
"The Underworld found he leads disturbed souls no more."
Aldebaran stared at Mu, who shut the eyes. "That sounds like bad news," he said.
"Do you think Deathmask could be…"
"Taurus may escort us if you will," Icarus said and hurried to the exit. "With haste, Atalanta."
While the two visitors left, Mu signaled for his friend to follow. "Go, but don't leave their side. Signal me if an emergency arises," he ordered.
"Will do."
Far above, the battle between Capricorn and Dragon raged on nonstop. Disregarding the bleeding, Shiryu continued to strike as wildly as he could, whereas Shura calculated each move he sent. As oppressive as the situation would've seemed to most fighters, he could dodge, deflect, and sneak in a couple punches whenever he found an exit.
After a flying kick, Shiryu swung the arm forward and shouted: "SOARING DRAGON!"
The tunnel of energy that emerged from his fist devastated the surfaces in its wake, removing a comparably small chunk of the stairway ahead, that came to fall onto the grounds. Capricorn escaped this by bursting towards the face of his own temple, from where he bounced back speedily.
He returned with a kick, which Shiryu dodged by little, but the next punch was one that came dangerously close to striking his face, had it not been for him leaning back. The movement nearly made him collapse to the floor, something the guardian explored by shoving the forearm against his neck. With a push above and a leg behind, Shiryu suffered a clean takedown, struggling to roll away.
Shura had come face to face with him and prepared a harsh swing, although the foe was finally able to open distance with a blast of Cosmos. Shiryu rolled back to his feet, whereas the Gold Saint pirouetted and landed gracefully, before he ran in thereafter.
A brief onslaught came from his side now, initially with the use of Excalibur, which was expertly evaded. Next he pursued to weaken the enemy with palm strikes to the body; with how Dragon huffed and the Cloth strained under tension, his effect was visible.
Because he could barely dodge, and defending hurt his body as much as being fully hit, Shiryu rotated to avoid a strike and raised the arm with a peak of energy. "ROZAN RISING DRAGON!" he yelled, and a similar but much more powerful beam ascended to the stars.
Shura was also impressed by the technique, but, unlike Deathmask, he was caught in a position where he could comfortably dodge it. Not just that, he seemed particularly attentive to how the movement was done.
Upon landing many a step away, he commented on it: "You lot know the Seventh Sense, and you are powerful enough to be a junior Gold Saint. It cannot be that you learned this on your own."
"Seiya learned it with the aid of Lady Athena herself. I, however, learned it thanks to my master, the Libra Saint," Shiryu told him.
Capricorn's grimace was of distrust mixed with unease. "I do not have to tell you I find that hard to believe," he said, although by then he seemed more inclined to do so than before.
"Who else could've taught us this, Shura?"
"It doesn't matter." Shura shrugged off a thought, that perhaps Aiolos had not died and the rebellion was fruit of his endeavors. Worst, this paralleled an older experience of his, that of a failed uprising. Comparisons that raced through his mind made him more and more uncertain of the truth, so he relied back on a devotion to Sanctuary, a feeling absent of trepidation. "You might as well have been trained by me, and I still would not let you up."
Shiryu sensed the same that the Gold Saint did: up in the House of Aquarius, a struggle had initiated a while prior. This meant Camus did not grant passage, and that Seiya could've been close to Hyoga's fate. This made it so that Shura lost any semblance of hurry, for if the temple guardians worked together, they knew to indefinitely hold back any foe.
So, once more Dragon attempted to assault him, but he was pushed apace. Capricorn shoved his forearms with the palms and flipped back, leg stretched up to slam him in the chin. Right after, he twisted back and threw the arm in a single revolution, sending Excalibur at the stunned Bronze Saint.
This could not be properly dodged, meaning the Dragon Cloth suffered greater damage, and another bleeding spot was split deep in the side of the torso, while shallow near the face. He strode next and fought more valiantly, careless of the effect this would have on his own body. Whenever the thought of using the Rozan Rising Dragon came to mind, he hesitated and preferred to strike as per usual.
Shura could feel the fearsome weight of Shiryu's punches, but so could the Bronze Cloth, which crumbled piece by piece whenever their limbs connected. Eventually a hook cut through the defense and slammed the Gold Saint in the face, so he flipped back and used his ability yet again.
At the sight of this, Shiryu also somersaulted away, but that slice hit his back and left arm, with a pain oddly excruciating. He landed and came close to trembling, since the loss of blood already rendered him light-headed.
"I might not have another choice," he murmured. Although Shura also seemed out of breath, he was nowhere as hurt, and his Cloth would largely protect him from the strongest of moves. A dangerous bet came to the Bronze Saint's mind, one that harkened back to one of Old Master's more cryptic teachings.
Shiryu stared down at the fist he raised to reverse the waters of Rozan, and an image of a sunset above the mountains took him. He had traveled to Libra's favored crag, the one he stood on most of the days to watch the sky above, and saw the clouds colored in brushes of blue and orange. The sun was a deep red sphere falling in the horizon, caressed by the fall's mist.
"As the sun rises, so it sets," said Old Master, and Dragon computed no wisdom in this, only truism. "As the dragon flies, so it lands." Again, he thought of this as the plainest of truisms.
The young man lingered on those words for several seconds, unable to reason through their light, so he turned to the side and asked: "What do you mean by that, Old Master?"
"That technique that summons the waterfalls of Rozan is only that: a summoning. Were one to somehow ignite the entire body with said energy, it would serve as a conduit; or, should I say, the energy is the bow, and the flesh, the arrow."
He could not comprehend the connection between the truisms and the explanation, despite it being revealing in some way. "But then any damage caused by it would also be inflicted unto my body," he assumed.
Old Master nodded in accordance. "Absolutely," the elder replied, "thus be wary of how you use it, if death is something you wish to avoid. Blood flow is not all that shifts with this technique. As you rise, Dragon, you shall also set."
This had for long been a mystery to Shiryu, but confronting an opponent like Shura, under the afterglow of the Seventh Sense, he learned its secret. He remembered seeing the sun fully set, the sky blessed with the elegance of dusk, something Sanctuary's sky could never display on its own. The shift in blood flow was one example of a greater pattern; his body had since the start been affected by the Rising Dragon, though he never used it as to endanger himself. That potency — that summoning had been carefully taught and used. He had found the time to irresponsibly abuse it.
Ready for whichever would come next, he rose his stupendous levels of Cosmos, and Capricorn did the same, expecting him to attack without mercy. "Do not do it, Dragon!" he pleaded, but Shiryu was quiet.
Once his long hair lifted with the wind caused by a warm aura, he rushed closer to the enemy. As a decoy, he feigned the movement for the Rozan Rising Dragon, which Shura promptly availed of. Using an arm dense with Excalibur's essence, he aimed to slice and pierce through the weakness in the chest. Shiryu, however, corrected his position and had a deep cut forced under the armpit.
Capricorn's arm was lodged halfway through hardened, conditioned flesh and Cloth, but the fighters never separated. Quite opposite, Dragon embraced his enemy tightly with aid of the Cosmos, engulfing them in a cocoon of energy.
"W-what?" Shura blurted out, and soon they were rocketed up with unbelievable velocity. "What is the meaning of this?"
"If I can't take your life alone, I will die with you!" Shiryu told him.
"Are you out of your mind? You would give your own life in the name of heresy?"
"There is no heresy," he countered. "I do this is in the name of my friends, in the name of Lady Athena, in your loyalty's name, Shura! For all of that, I would give my life! I will give my life!"
The Gold Saint's heart suffered, for his zeal burned as hot as did Shiryu's passion. Words were worthless on their own, he believed, but those actions served as stable foundation for them. It made sense then, and his cynicism crumbled apart with the bitterness it ought to yield. That was Libra's apprentice, Mu had let them pass, Athena lied injured at the entrance… but worst of all, Aiolos was no traitor — Aiolos, the savior, died by his hand, by the blessing given to the Capricorn Saint as a symbol of his assiduous servitude. In his arms, he held the baby Athena. He would no longer concern himself with the hows or whys, more with facts, that he hated and murdered his friend in the name of a traitor, that he blindly endangered his goddess' life, and that he served the enemy's interests. The pain of those truths was too large for this zealous a Saint to outlive it.
Gratitude washed him, despite how impure he felt. His tears streamed along the speed with which they approached the summit of Sanctuary's construction, and he said: "So I see what you meant by mercy."
They gradually decelerated near the peak, the horned helmet slipping off. Once closing in on a physical ceiling, Shiryu's Cosmos exploded. His entire body glowed deep orange, and the sphere that contained them became the brightest star in the grounds' sky for a couple seconds. They turned upside-down and unrelentingly accelerated towards the backyard's marble floor.
Body covered in darkening flames, Shiryu shouted: "ROZAN TWILIGHT DRAGON!"
Behind them blue sparks and plasma spread to color the panorama with newborn evenfall, a sight taken by every rebel and loyalist below. The star fell like a meteorite, but Shura had risen Cosmos too and screamed. This produced a bang of equally terrifying proportions.
The might was such that his golden cuirass was split to pieces, as was a great chunk of the Dragon Cloth. Both of their skins ripped and burst into blood, and Shiryu's momentum was countered, while Shura's grew further. The unconscious Bronze Saint curved midair, followed by many shards of metal, and then fell right through the temple's ceiling.
Capricorn bravely encountered death in the descent. With the summed forces, he crushed past the backyard's deep foundation to open another crevice, then met his end buried in the grounds below. The radius of the blast was wide enough to crack platforms and pillars, but he was buried quite far into rock and dirt, only to leave above a curtain of dust.
Minutes preceding this, Aldebaran and the Angels had already arrived in Cancer's hall, and they were overwhelmed by the wailing souls that wandered around the open Hellmouth. The Gold Saint stayed steps behind, attentively watching the strangers while they navigated the funereal statues.
Atalanta's casual demeanor changed to an annoyed one upon hearing the echoing weeps of the dead, and the feeling of their icy entrails only caused more discomfort. Her partner took note of this, so he questioned: "Brings back memories?"
"Not good ones, but yeah," she answered. Icarus soon walked side-by-side with her, and they reached the epicenter of the souls, a spot so noisy with deathly fabric that one could barely see what lied past. It was by straining the eyes and hearing the echoes of the reaper that they located the Hellmouth.
"Right, so here is how you do it, Atalanta." He placed the hand on her shoulder pad to catch her attention, then raised it beside his face, a scarlet aura outlining it. "Imagine the opposite of gamma — the trapping of souls travels in space along the lowest of frequencies. At first it may feel wrong to drop that slow, but once you do…"
The shades surrounding the fingers fluttered inwards for a moment, and the girl parted her lips in understanding. "Oh, right! Got it," she said, thus she lifted both arms and evoked the same occult power he played with, one that Deathmask also possessed.
"Careful, though," Icarus warned her as she, too, spread waves through every soul in the vicinity. "Increase the amplitude too far, and we will be swallowed in with the dead."
But the deed was finished with calm and success; the technique was similar to the Praesepe Wave, albeit more tranquil in execution. The dead seemed magnetized towards the Hellmouth, and with that the noise in the area vanished. The young man was prompt in lifting the heavy lid to shut the chest, thereon normalcy was reinstated in the temple.
This also fully revealed what Aries feared, that Deathmask had indeed passed away. His body was left atop the altar where Shiryu and Seiya last saw him work, legs straight and arms crossed over the chest. The helmet had been removed to uncover the hair, and his eyelids were methodically shut. Unlike last time he was seen, Cancer no longer displayed any signs of residual life.
Aldebaran's sniffed in mourning when he saw from a distance, although he was pained and chose not to approach. He turned and leaned against the base of a statue while the Angels examined the body.
"He's a goner too," Atalanta observed, "so what do we do? Will we have to stay?"
"No, Sanctuary has traditions in place to deal with such exceptions," Icarus told her, taking in the sight of how well that man had been tended for despite the injuries. "With Lady Athena out of reach, it is the High Priestess of her cult whom we are to contact. Taurus must know where she is."
They pressed the pace to go over to him, but Aldebaran barely turned the head, in fear of viewing his friend's corpse. "Nothing to be done, huh?" he lamented.
"Aye, he is long dead," said the Angel, so Aldebaran nodded negatively out of hopelessness. "If it serves as any comfort, the one who slew him demonstrated odd respect. Apart from superficial injuries, the body is in great condition, and was put to rest in a proper pose."
"Yeah, the ones going up are good kids, I'm sure they didn't want things to end like this. But Deathmask, he saw things in black and white…"
"Without him, those stray souls might never find their way to the Underworld. Would you escort us to the High Priestess, if you will?"
"Hm, the High Priestess…" Aldebaran thought of whether the headquarters had been liberated, and he wasn't fully certain. Regardless, it was at that time that they sensed the Cosmoi of Shiryu and Shura explode many temples above, followed by a bewildering blast that even shook that temple slightly. The Gold Saint's mouth was agape, and once even the Angels turned to him for answers, he assumed something terrible had happened. "We'd better run, I'll show you to her."
The trio hurried towards the grounds, but when they walked a couple steps down the stairway, they were welcomed by a brightness unlike anything that sky had ever carried. Taurus looked back and saw azure streaks consecrating the stars, and the radiance left behind by Capricorn's downfall. It was then understood that Deathmask's demise was only one of many horrors to be uncovered.