Odin, Siegfried, and Metatron existed in that unending abyss. All external light and sound were gone. All they could do was see each other, clear as day, amongst the darkness.
Metatron dropped to his knees, his eyes locked on where he last saw his fellow Primordials.
"I knew they were afraid," Metatron said. "I knew." His breathing shook. "But to do that...nothing they did deserved that."
"It shouldn't surprise you," Odin said, without emotion. "You're no better."
Siegfried pointed Balmung at the almost lifeless Odin. "You're in no position to talk," He said.
"He planned to have me killed. To have Ra killed, and that's the start." Odin turned to the pair. "Have you told anyone the true reason for the Human Extermination Army? Or were you hoping that name would fool everyone?"
…
"Their words. They were planning to meet up with you."
Metatron stared daggers at him. "They were trying to kill me!" He roared. "They saw me as a threat equal to your people! I did everything I could to keep the trail cold! I even offered Feldis the Cube!" Pain etched across his face as his body slacked. "He refused it, claiming I needed it more. To keep building Creation."
"If they were trying to kill you, why not fight back?"
Color and light slowly formed out of the darkness.
"Why not put them down? Why not do to them what they were trying to do to you and us?" The world around them shuddered and rippled. "Coward."
The world came back into shape. The trio stood at the edge of a massive crater. Its surface was covered in rough glass from top to bottom.
Odin stared down at it, his body shuddering. Siegfried focused on him, but saw something far on the other side of the crater. Something small and moving.
Then, they heard it. First it was a loud whimper and something that sounded like pleading. Then, it devolved into wild cries of pain and misery.
Metatron felt every inch of his body scream at him to go and save whoever was hurting.
"That is you," Metatron whispered. "How did you survive this?" His vision focused, and he saw a familiar necklace hanging around Velk's neck. "Gungnir?"
Odin stayed quiet.
"Gǫllnir described it as the best defense possible. Is that how?"
"It doesn't matter," Odin said. "All that matters is that after that day, they never appeared again. No one mourned my people except for me." He twirled Gram. "I watched this world move on and live in blissful ignorance of the price paid for its safety. Their disgusting, entitled ignorance."
The world shifted again, and the crater vanished as a mountain range came into being. Behind Odin, embedded in a mountain's peak, was Gram.
Standing in front of it, now much older and worn down, was Velk. He gripped the sword, and its maddening energy erupted out of the handle and surged into his body. His blood vessels popped, and his left eye exploded as his hair turned white.
Then, the peak yielded. The sword broke free, and Velk stood transformed, wearing a familiar sinister grin.
"And on that day, I decided I would make this world you slaughtered my people for choke on that ignorance."
The world twisted and contorted back into the village. Odin turned to the pair, his lifeless visage locking onto them, unblinking.
"I am here, Metatron. Finish what they started." He fanned out his hands. "Protect Creation, and for once in your rotten life, do something yourself. Undo the Völund and come take my life."
The village slowly came to life. The Gǫllnir people went about their daily routines, once again ignorant of the growing cataclysm within their home.
Metatron looked at his feet, taking a breath.
What is… He thought.
Another voice suddenly appeared.
Dad, it's too much. Her voice said. I know you're trying to fix everything alone. Hilde does that, and I wish she didn't. I wish you didn't.
What's the point of all this if the people you're fighting for aren't here anymore?!
Everyone we love is dying…is this what your friends would have wanted?!
I had to look at things differently. Another voice, pensive, said. My men wouldn't want me torturing myself. Like killing these things; it wouldn't bring them back. Those villagers will never see me as anyone other than a hero who arrived too late. I can't change that, no matter what I do. Some things…just can't be fixed.
But that doesn't mean I still can't try. As you said a few years back, people still need my help.
Göll…for all those nerves and fears, you are braver than me. Georgios, you gave this old soul hope again. Thank you both. He thought. "Velk, I cannot."
Odin's head tilted.
"We have lost too much to keep doing this to each other. We have lost children over this tournament, and I am tired."
He looked around, seeing familiar faces. Some looked his way now and then, but he knew they could not see him. He knew they could never return.
"I cannot fight you. I lost that right long ago, but not him." Metatron slowly faded back into the sword. "This is his fight, and one of your making, Velk. If you can beat him, then I will give you my life, too."
Odin breathed deeply. "So be it," He said. He raised Gram. "Then I will destroy you both with your greatest sin." Miasma emanated from its tip. I let this place vanish from history once. I will never allow that again." More miasma poured from his body, flowing through the village and the surrounding forest. It slithered up the invisible dome and formed long hands with thin needle-like fingers. The hands pressed flat against the dome and pushed. "I will force the truth onto this false world…and bring back the true history!"
A loud cracking sound echoed from nearby. Then another. A third followed shortly after, and a fourth rang in their ears.
SIEGFRIED! Metatron yelled in a panic. He is expanding this world! It is encroaching further on Creation! STOP HIM!
Siegfried dashed forward. Egil's vibrations covered Gram, and Odin rushed him.
Sword and spear clashed. They pushed each other back, and Odin thrust Gram in a flurry of blows. Siegfried blocked and parried each thrust as they made their way and stepped in. He slipped and ducked a thrust and a swing before slashing up. Odin blocked it with Gram's spectral shaft. He bared his teeth and flexed his back muscles, letting them swell.
"You will not stop me, interloper!" He yelled. He pushed the shaft forward, lifting Siegfried's feet off the ground and charged.
The pair rocketed into the forest, decimating every tree they passed through. Pain flowed through Siegfried's body with each collision.
The trees are solidifying?! Metatron thought.
Odin paused for a second, creating space between them, and swung up. Gram's edge released a stream of blood as it cut through armor and flesh.
Siegfried continued flying through the forest as Odin crouched down and flew after him.
He thrusted.
Die with him! Odin thought.
Siegfried aimed Balmung's point straight at Odin. Gram sailed past it, and Siegfried swatted it away. He got his feet behind him, landed square on a tree, and squatted down.
Even at this range?! At this speed?! Odin thought.
Siegfried sprang forward and slashed. Odin parried it with his pommel as Siegfried flew past him.
Both dropped to the forest floor and faced each other. Both took their weapons in hand as more gargantuan cracks filled the air.
"Do you hear that? That is Creation giving way to the truth, and obeying my will!" Brisingamen's shards flowed out of his body. They glowed a deep purple and hissed. Draupnir's arms shot out of his body, and the shards formed two large rings above them. "Learn from its example!"
"I'll pass on that!" Siegfried yelled, rushing him.
"Yggdrasil…Chaos…Hati and Sköll: Hvirfill!"
The spectral arms stabbed into the back of the rings. The heads of two massive, glowing wolves erupted from the front: one gold with solar flares flowing around its head, the other pale blue with a crescent moon growing out of the hinge of its jaws. They opened their mouths and light formed between their jaws. The light burst forth as two beams wrapped around each other into a spiral of power.
Bright cyan light enveloped Balmung, and Siegfried swung at the beam. The blade collided with the spiral, pushing Siegfried back.
"I…said…" Siegfried said, gritting his teeth and digging his feet in. "I'll pass on that!" The blade glided through the light and cleaved clean through it. The light dissipated in a shower of sparks as Siegfried continued his charge.
Odin snapped his fingers. The wolves opened their maws and beams surged out. "Hati and Sköll: Úregn!"
Siegfried's eyes dilated. His breathing went shallow. The barrage sailed towards him in a cloud. He stopped and snapped into a simple stance; Balmung extended ahead.
Quiet… Siegfried thought. Let the world vanish…let the noise fall away…let the moment be all…
His breathing fell into rhythm with his body. The first few beams passed Balmung's tip…and were swatted away. Then twelve more.
That matters.
Without looking away, without flinching, Balmung darted towards every oncoming beam. Through perfect unison of every joint and application of power from the ankles to the wrists, Balmung struck every beam that could reach Siegfried. Every other beam flew past him, eviscerating the forest.
The wolves closed their mouths.
Siegfried burst forward, appearing in front of Odin and the wolves as Balmung Excelsis' blade grew several meters.
Odin flinched, and Siegfried slashed clean through him and both wolves. Draupnir's spectral arms smashed his two halves back together. Odin slid his grip up to Gram's head.
He flicked his wrist, and Gram rocketed through his grip and into Siegfried's stomach. It shot out of his back, sending armor and flesh everywhere.
"Got you!" Odin said, breaking into a manic grin. "Now be—"
Balmung flew back and slashed through Odin's neck, sending his head flying off.
Draupnir's spectral arm shot up, grabbed his head, and slammed it back on his neck.
Odin's eyes lit up.
"Stop talking and fig—" Siegfried swung again, Gram still stabbed through his stomach.
Odin stepped back, his grip snapping on Gram's pommel as he evaded the strike. "FINE THEN! No more playing around!" Odin turned and swung Gram overhead, lifting Siegfried. "I learned this from Hades!"
He slammed Gram down, throwing Siegfried head-first into the ground. He lifted him and swung Gram, sending him flying over the forest.
He raised his hand, and Brisingamen's shards flew to the sky over where Siegfried landed. They spun, forming a titanic ring over the forest with a black void forming in its center.
"Yggdrasil…Ymir…Fet Hins Fyrsta!"
A foot the size of a mountain sailed out of the portal. The air rushed from its descent and washed over Odin as he watched it drop.
Before it reached its target, a blade of cyan light stabbed through the sole and out of the foot before gliding forward and cutting it in two. The foot dissipated, and the shards flew back to Odin.
Odin stood, in abject silence, dumbfounded by what he witnessed. He could still hear the cracks echoing around him, the forest growing deeper and wider as the false world invaded reality, but he could not focus on it.
All he could do was take in the reality that, to him, some no-name godling was using the power of a Primordial God, nay, his mortal enemy, to cut through everything he was throwing at him, literally.
Only one question echoed in his mind.
How is this happening?
______________________
Siegfried stood as Balmung swung down, wincing as he tried to push his strength down to his feet.
"Did he actually accept being cut again to stab me?!" Siegfried chuckled a little. "He's crazy! That's something Týr would do!"
Siegfried, focus! Metatron said. Use Excelsis' power to patch up your stomach! You are lucky that thrust did not split you in two!
"Right." He sheathed his sword and knelt. He placed his hands over his stomach and focused, summoning cyan light under his palms. The pain subsided slightly as his organs and bones reassembled and reformed. He felt his skin grow, covering the reformed muscles around his organs and spine. "This is…beyond cool…"
Save the praise for later. Metatron said.
"What's wrong with giving praise?!"
There is a time and place for it!
Siegfried could not help but hear a slight smile in his voice.
"There's always time for a nice word or two." His expression softened, and his gaze grew solemn. "Not a lot of people get that."
The Heavens
Asgard
Millennia Ago
Deep within one of Asgard's many mountain ranges, A small squad of six Gods in shoddy armor, armed only with swords and shields, slowly trekked in formation through a narrow path. The one in front scanned ahead, while the ones behind him scanned the sky and the ground behind them.
"Áslákr, anything?" One of the soldiers in the middle asked.
"Nothing ahead, save for some rocks," He answered. "Anybody got eyes on the scout?"
"Negative," The soldier in the rear, Halldórr, answered.
"How long has he been gone?"
A God in the middle, Kormákr, pulled out a small stone that made a faint ticking sound. "Sir, it's been over fifteen minutes. He's been gone too long."
"Dammit all…" Áslákr whispered. "We got sent on a death march."
"Not this again," Halldórr said.
They continued their march, surveying the area.
"Why else send us? We're not part of the offensive forces with the Allfather's Sons. The Jotnar still control this place, and it's where Týr was attacked. By Fenrir, I remind you."
"Hold on, Death March?" One of the younger, shorter Gods, Steinarr, asked.
"Ignore him, Steinarr," Kormákr said.
"Ignorance is bliss, and we don't have time for it," Áslákr said. "The Allfather and his Sons have no issue killing Jotnar, except Týr. If they can wipe out entire armies, why are we out here?"
No one answered as they marched. No one wanted to. Out of fear, out of defiance, or out of apathy. None dared.
Their march took them through the ravine as the potential truth hung over them. Before long, Áslákr saw the exit in sight.
And froze.
The others bumped into him and each other, barely staying upright.
"Oy, what's got—" Kormákr started, but Áslákr raised his shield arm to silence him.
He walked out of the ravine's mouth and into an open valley.
An open valley filled with the dead. Jotnar of every shape and size, from taller than fortresses and mountains to the size of newborn Nidhogg spawn.
All of them covered in slashes. Many were dismembered and decapitated. All of them, dead.
The rest of the squad joined him in surveying the destruction.
"What…happened?" Halldórr whispered.
"Oh, Sir!" A cheerful voice yelled to their collective left. They all looked, eyeing a platinum-blonde God sitting on a rock, sword resting in his lap. All of his armor was strewn about, leaving only his indigo shirt, black pants, and deep-brown boots. "Did you guys come looking for me?" Siegfried asked.
They exchanged glances as he rose and walked to them.
"I'm sorry. After dealing with them, I needed a break! I hope I didn't worry you all. Everyone okay?"
"We're…fine," Áslákr said.
"Thank goodness! Didn't want anything happening to you guys! Aslakr's stew is the best, and Kormákr still needs to teach me that dance he does with his wife!"
_________________
"Lord Vidarr!" A soldier yelled, entering the war room in a dilapidated fort. "The scouting team made it back!"
Vidarr looked up from his map, staring blankly at the messenger.
"Sir, I know it's unlikely, but I promise you I am not lying."
Vidarr crossed the room, stopping a few meters from his guest. "…How many?"
"All of them."
"All of them? They're just cooks and smiths. There's no way they did the full route and returned unscathed." That damned death march was supposed to kill them off. He thought. Damn those things.
"My Lord, the other scouting parties scoped out the route."
"And?"
"They verified the presence of the Jotnar we predicted…and they were found dead. All of them."
Vidarr blinked. His eyes darted in every direction as he tried to comprehend what he heard. A small jolt of hope arched across his mind at the idea. They all made it back…and the Jotnar were defeated? Who did it? How?!
"Find out who did it. I need to inform Asgard." Týr, I think this may be what you need!
_________________
In the middle of a clearing, Siegfried spun on the balls of his feet, twirling around as the grass danced around his feet.
Kormákr said it was like this…or was it like this? He thought, shifting his hips to the left. Ugh…why is this so difficult? If it were swordplay, it'd be nothing! He smiled a little. Wonder if I'll get to do that. Dance with someone. He paused and looked up at the midday sky. The overcast obscured the sun just enough to keep it from beaming down on him. Knowing my luck, probably not.Ah well, back to it!
He resumed his dance, focusing on his feet until he heard someone clapping. He paused and turned.
Standing under the shade of a tree was a brunette God, his hair tied back in a ponytail. Purple and gold armor covered his body while an eyepatch rested over the right side of his face, covering the center of a recovering wound. His other eye, black with a gold iris and encircled by bruising, leered at Siegfried. On the God's back was a long sword with runes adorning its hilt and pommel.
Siegfried's eyes drifted towards the God's right side, noticing his missing arm.
"Impressive," The God said mirthlessly. "Almost looked graceful there."
Ugh…not another one… Siegfried thought. His eyes widened when his gaze stopped on the God's eye. "No way…you're Týr!"
"The one and only."
"You're the Norse War God!"
Týr's nose turned up, and his gaze hardened. "Do not call me that. I'm not a War God. Not anymore…"
"…Okay." He looked around. "Can I help you with something?"
"You can." Týr drew his sword.
Siegfried widened his stance, but Týr turned the weapon over and stabbed it into the grass. He slid his boot's toe under something and kicked it up, snatching two wooden swords out of the air.
"I heard you were the one who got his scouting party back. Unharmed."
"That was me, yeah. Why?"
Týr flicked his wrist, letting one of the swords drop between his fingers. He flicked his hand, sending the blade flying at his target.
Siegfried snatched it out of the air and gripped it in both hands.
Týr brandished his own as if writing his name in the air. "I'll answer your question like this."
"Do we have to? We just met!" Siegfried said, chuckling nervously.
"Are you afraid to lose to a God with one arm?"
Sweat flowed down Siegfried's temple. "If it were someone else, maybe. I've had run-ins with dangerous one-armed masters, and I can tell." His back relaxed, and his breathing softened. "You're a cut above the rest."
Týr huffed and smirked. "Flattery gets you nowhere."
"But ignorance gets you killed."
Týr fought back a smile.
Siegfried stepped in with a simple downward slash.
Týr swiveled on his left foot, catching the blade with his own and letting it glide down to the ground. He drove his pommel towards Siegfried's forehead, but his head slipped to the outside.
Siegfried rolled under the strike, spinning both feet to the right and bringing the wooden edge towards Týr's unguarded stomach.
Týr thrust his sword down, blocking the slash.
Both took several steps back, eyeing each other.
"A God using the pommel?! Haven't seen that before!" Siegfried said, rushing in.
"Only the lazy use the edge!" Týr roared, thrusting the training sword.
Siegfried skidded to a halt and parried it to the side. The moment their blades touched, Týr pulled it back immediately and thrust again.
Siegfried parried, but another thrust appeared behind the first. He parried it, but another followed. Then another.
Then two more.
Then four.
Then eight.
He's fast! No wasted movement! Siegfried parried three thrusts. He's firing them from his back to maximize speed and keep his shoulder strong! Seven more. Sweat poured from his temples. He lost his arm only a few weeks ago, and he's already adapted?! How much training has he done?!
A smile formed across his face as he slipped a thrust. The wooden edge grazed his cheek and drew blood.
How strong is he?!
Siegfried parried another blow. As Týr pulled his sword back, Siegfried followed it, matching the pullback speed and rhythm perfectly. He slammed his right shoulder into Týr's chest and followed it with a horizontal slash from Týr's open side.
Got hi—
Týr lowered his center of gravity, caught the attack from his open side, and guided Siegfried's blade over his head and into the ground.
He inhaled and kicked off. His hip, core, and the remains of his shoulder smashed into Siegfried, sending him flying.
The wind flew out of Siegfried's lungs as he flew through dozens of trees, smashing them to pieces.
"Damn it!" Týr yelled. "I went too far!" He dropped the sword and sprinted after his opponent.
Siegfried stopped over a downed tree, unable to pull air into his lungs. He forced himself to exhale. Slowly, his breathing returned as pain enveloped his body.
He pushed himself upright as Týr came to a stop.
"Are you okay?!" He asked. "I meant to come here and test you, but—"
"That…was…amazing!" Siegfried rasped out.
Týr blinked a few times.
"I thought I had you." Siegfried coughed a little. "But you already had a strategy for someone attacking your exposed side! Heck, a few! You even pivoted to close the openings!"
"Y…Yeah. I don't want to get caught off-guard again." Týr answered reluctantly.
"I should've expected that, since you worked to keep your left side in front. Damn it…I actually lost!"
Týr grimaced. "You still have your sword. I don't."
Siegfried looked down at his hand, seeing his destroyed sword. "Yeah, but it's broken. Your win! I can't do much without a sword."
"Don't downplay yourself." Týr offered his hand. Siegfried took it, and Týr pulled him to his feet. "Those techniques you used could translate to any weapon, and the close-range slash with those parries can turn into hand strikes."
"Maybe, but like I said: I'm nothing without a sword!" Siegfried looked around and winced. "Well, looks like I got some firewood for tonight." He turned back to Týr. "Hey, would you be against doing this again?"
Týr stifled a laugh. "Again? Why?"
"I don't have anyone to train with! Plus, you're far stronger than me and skilled, too! Ever since I got here, all I've had is me and me alone. Barely anyone in the army fights with notable skill, and asking you or your brothers for anything was treated as me insulting you. Buuuuut…that doesn't mean I can't ask now. Eh?"
Týr closed his eyes and shook his head. "Sure. Tomorrow..." He turned around, letting the smile win out of Siegfried's sight. Maybe he's not like Odin after all. Guess you were right for once, Vidarr. "See ya."
The following day, and nearly every day after, Týr found Siegfried wherever he was stationed. They sparred until sunset, with sword or fist, silently praying these moments could last into eternity.
Unbeknownst to them, their duels bore fruit. Siegfried continued his patrols through Jotnar territory, eventually reaching Jotunheim. Many Jotnar of great renown were amused to find an unimpressive God wielding an unimpressive sword. Many fell just as the ones before.
Týr continued to hone his skills, turning his raw power into more refined, efficient techniques. When he returned to the battlefield with his new golden arm, he decimated every Jotnar that entered his path.
Such was the start of two Gods seeking something missing in their lives. The new beginning of two Gods who earned the title of Jotunsbani through pure technique, turning raw power into the most dangerous weapon, and a friendship forged through mutual growth. It was never known how many lives were spared the inevitable Death March because these two joined the fray, but it was certain that Asgard was louder and busier than before.
_________________
"Hang on," Týr said, rolling his mechanical shoulder. "You were a Human?"
"Well, yeah," Siegfried said, rubbing his sore temple. "I grew up on Midgard. I fought a lot there, and got old. Then I died and wound up here."
"But that's not possible. Humans can't become Gods without Ascending. Even then, naturals are so rare, they number in the dozens across Humanity's entire history."
Siegfried shrugged. "Couldn't tell you why, but that's what happened. One day, I'm resting under a tree after my old bones couldn't walk much more. The next moment, I'm riding on a winged horse behind some woman with black hair." He stared wistfully up at the sky. "She reminds me of the Valkyries I used to read about. Helped she was prettier than any woman I ever met back in Midgard!"
"Sounds like Brünhilde," Týr said. "She's a bit of a busybody, but a good person. She and her sisters are part of our Pantheon."
Siegfried's eyes widened. "She is? Why haven't I met them?"
Týr twisted his back, wincing a little as it popped. "They're always busy guiding souls up here, so they're not around much."
"HEY!" A woman's voice shouted from above. "Found you!"
"Aaaah…" Týr groaned, but smiled. "Speak of the devil."
The pair looked up, seeing a Pegasus descend towards them. On its back was a woman with flowing black hair and large cyan eyes. She wore a flowing dress with billowing sleeves.
"I guess I lost track of time!" Týr thought. "I forgot we scheduled some…" He looked at Siegfried and saw him frozen in place. "…training."
Siegfried's heart raced through his body and out. He did not blink, instinctively fearing she would vanish even in those brief moments.
Týr sighed. Guess we're too similar. You fell for her, too, huh? He thought.
The Pegasus landed, and Brünhilde slid off. She stomped over to Týr. "What're you doing out here?! I showed up where you told me to go, and you ditched me?!" She yelled.
Týr flinched and stepped back. "Sorry, Hilde. I got caught up in something."
"What could be that important?!" Her large eyes bore into his soul.
Please don't stare at me like… "I was training with my friend! He and I have been working together ever since I was able to walk and move around." He gestured to Siegfried.
"Oh really?" She asked, irritated. "And who is…" Her eyes met Siegfried's.
Siegfried smiled and stepped forward. "Hi…Hilde? I'm Siegfried! My friends call me Sieg!"
Týr looked at the pair, seeing the two gazing into each other's eyes.
Ah. He sighed. Guess I can't ask you to stop staring at him like that. "Guys, I need to go and check on something, but I like it when my friends meet. I'll leave you to it."
"But—" Siegfried started.
Týr turned around and waved, feeling a little joy vanish, but carrying himself with grace as he departed the field and entered the woods. "See ya!"
Brünhilde and Siegfried watched him go, then turned to each other.
"Ah! Sorry, I didn't mean to be so casual…Brünhilde, right?"
She smiled. "Don't worry about it, Sieg. A friend of Týr's is mine, too."
"Well then, let's try again." His face slowly turned a light shade of red, just like hers had started to.
"Hi, Hilde."