MGM - Chapter 75

Alexandria

Moments Before…


Five minutes.


Already, five long, tense, borderline agonizing minutes had passed since Avalon had dragged Leviathan into that void-like rift that’d torn the sky in two, disappearing without a word. Even from the beach, miles away from the action, they’d seen it as clear as day in spite of the dark clouds and pouring rain. Some sort of interdimensional portal speckled with stars, which sucked anything and everything in with seemingly no bias. 


The rain. The water. The ice. And even the man who willed it into existence.


And then it had simply disappeared like it had never been there before. The ominous black clouds shifted into a depressing, yet utterly mundane gray, the ocean became its deep blue self once again, shedding its oil-like shade completely, and for several tense, unsettling minutes… the world was normal again. The only sign that a battle had taken place over the Atlantic were the lingering caps of ice and sleet drifting over the waters, and the heavy feeling in the guts of over a hundred parahumans as they stood, uselessly, at the fringes of the beach.


The silence was stifling.


Maddening.


It wasn’t until you’ve experienced a life-threatening battle yourself that you truly understood just how long five minutes was. And everyone here has done so. Repeatedly.


No one spoke, save for hushed, stifled whispers that were muted beneath the whipping of the wind and the pelting of rain drops. They all stared out into the tumultuous sea in that dreadful, all-encompassing silence, no one person wishing to speak up with any actual volume and break the fragile, unspoken agreement. The agreement that they would wait. Wait and see if Avalon, or Leviathan, would come back. 


“The dude’s dead,” someone - a Ward, Jouster - said a bit too loudly. It cut across the grimness like a whip, and several heads turned to where he stood shoulder to shoulder with the offensive line.


When none of his acquaintances around him co-signed his words, the boy twisted around, an aggravated frown twisting his lips beneath his visor. “Right? C’mon. We all saw the same thing. Doesn’t matter how tough he thought he was; there’s no way he actually managed to survive a one on one with a fucking Endbringer. And now we’re all out of position because-“


“Shut your mouth.”


Miss Militia didn’t shout, and that was a facet of her former subordinate’s personality that Rebecca had always respected. She barely even raised her voice, because she didn’t need to. Such a sharp, cold order from a woman usually so stoic and respectful somehow stood out more than the loudest of demands, and people listened.


Heads turned. From her position towards the front of the ‘Tanks’, Rebecca distantly noted Eidolon and Legend shifting to pay attention, though their gazes were hard. Distant.


Miss Militia didn’t shy away from the attention her words brought her, leaning up and away from the sandbags she’d been using as an impromptu sniper’s perch. Her eyes were dark, lightly bruised around the edges of her sockets where she’d been pressing her cheek against the scope of a high-powered sniper rifle.


The rifle faded away in a viridian glow when she lowered it down to her chest - a viridian glow that seamlessly bled into the form a standard issue, nondescript Glock, which she deftly holstered at her hip.


“He asked us to trust him,” the heroine continued unrepentantly, crossing her toned arms over her chest. Her sharp green eyes were honed in on Jouster, gaze hard enough to cut straight through the shiny steel sheen of his knight’s helm. “So that’s what we’re going to do. No one’s declared dead until we see their body or Dragon announces their tag number, understood?”


The kid didn’t last more than five seconds beneath the weight of her glare. Not with his own teammates sending him annoyed looks.


“I was just saying…”


But humans were creatures of repetition, comfort, and familiarity, and Parahumans were nothing if not even more flawed as a whole. With the taboo of the silence being blatantly broken, other grim-faced capes began voicing their own doubts - quiet, but much louder than the hushed whispers before. The discourse moved like a wave, starting on one end of the line and emanating out like an anxious buzz on the other. 


“How long has it even been…?”


“Five minutes? Ten? Poor kid’s dead. Ain’t no fuckin’ doubt in my mind. Damn it, why’d we even let him go at it solo!?”


“Wasn’t our call. Never was. You saw the vids, man. You were gonna try and stop him? To fight a fucking Endbringer?”


“No, but- fuck. Fuck. What do we do?”


“Wait. That’s all we can do. We wait.”


Rebecca cared little for complaining, but the men standing behind her, whispering like school children… They weren’t wrong. As much as it rankled her to admit it, she’d been knocked out of control here long before Avalon made the express decision to martyr himself and drag both him and the Endbringer scratching and clawing into whatever tear in reality he’d created. That power was not in either of his classified Cauldron and PRT folders.


No, she’d subconsciously transferred authority over to the boy tens of years her junior once she realized just how doggedly serious he’d been about his intentions.


It was… embarrassing.


Or maybe ‘embarrassing’ was too juvenile a word for the emotion she was feeling right now. Vexatious. Disconcerting. All of the above? Here she was, the sole Chief Director of the PRT, executive member of Cauldron, and a veritable ‘top hero’ in her own right… And yet, when faced by a country-destroying threat yet again, she’d found herself bowing her head and surrendering her authority to a young man who’d yet to experience the horrors of an Endbringer first hand. And for what? 


Because he was their sole prospect for the Terminus Project? Because this was a good test to see if he was as much of a silver bullet as he made himself out to be? Because she had the utmost faith in the power he’s shown to them?


Wrong. All of it.


It was because, for the first time in quite possibly her entire life… Avalon had made her feel safe. Comforted. Trusting in her harebrained decision to let someone else make the big play for once. To play the sacrificial hero. And maybe, just fucking maybe, things would end up alright without the loss of an eye, or an arm, or a tragic death toll numbering in the thousands. 


Today, Rebecca made a decision based entirely on her feelings, faith, and heart, instead of cold hard logic and facts.


And now, as the anxiety rose higher and higher… She had no idea if she made the right one, or the wrong one.


Legend, the only other ‘guilty’ party on the beachfront, hovered nearby, arms loose at his sides, his gaze distant and flicking between the horizon and nothing in particular. He wasn’t masking anything. His expression was open, unguarded, as it tended to be in most situations - for good or ill. There was grief there, subtle and sharp, buried beneath layers of grim professionalism. The way he held his breath every few seconds, as if expecting to hear a sound that hadn’t come yet - it said more than any words could. 


At least- 


“W-what… What the fuck is that?”


Until the world unfolded for the second time that day.


CRACK!


The sound of glass shattered was so damned loud that, for a moment, Rebecca couldn’t even hear herself think. People were screaming, she dully recognized, and the air shimmered a myriad of colors as the frontline ‘tanks’ activated dozens of defensive, shield-like abilities to the left and right of her - but no type of protective wall could shield any of them from the view of reality cracking, and breaking apart like glass, miles upon miles above their heads.


It was like reality itself was breaking.


In an instant, the sky went from being filled with the fluffy gray of weeping clouds to something straight from a science fiction novel. It was as if some God had ripped a jagged trench straight through the middle, and from within that gaping, unearthly wound, for as far and wide as the naked eyes could see, there were just stars. Lights. An entire galaxy hidden behind this massive rift in space - the same rift that Avalon had opened up before, only on a completely different scale.


And falling though…


Was the Boy Wonder himself.


Him, and the drill.


“Oh my God,” someone breathed.


Distantly, Rebecca realized that it was her own voice.


It blotted out the sky; that was how ridiculously gargantuan it was. 


Impossible. 


Monolithic. 


A nightmarish construct of twisting, burning metal that shone brightly beneath the ethereal blue glow of the quickly healing wound left behind in the sky. What appeared to be runes pulsed along its spiraling body, each one humming with an ancient power that made her skin prickle uncomfortably, even from this distance. Its shadow darkened the ocean. Its size made the man holding it above his head look like an ant in comparison. But absolutely no one could deny that it was, without a doubt, Avalon himself - wounded, half-naked, and with skin overlaid with gleaming gold… but undeniably him. 


And free falling towards the ocean blow, its body visibly battered, charred, and smushed, was Leviathan.


Somewhere off to the side, a dragon roared.


“Blasters, long-ranged Strikers, get ready to attack on my command! If things go sideways, we will not be taken off guard! Eidolon, we’ll need to-“


Legend was talking. Barking out orders. It was the smart thing to do, considering they had eyes on Leviathan for the second time tonight, but as Rebecca glanced back to get a feel for the climate, she saw nothing but wide, shiny-eyed faces staring back at her. No… Not at her. Past her. As the leader of the Protectorate and one of Bet’s top heroes, he tried to corral the capes into a prepared and ready weapon to be used against their enemy, but-


“Legend,” Rebecca cut him off just as he’d begun to raise his voice, frustration bleeding into the usually genteel man’s commanding tone, “Let it be. Let them watch. I- … I don’t think we’ll need to fight today.”


At his side, half hidden by the crowd, Eidolon stiffened.


Legend pursed his lips. “Alexandria-“


She smiled. It was an exhausted one, grimly satisfied yet tired, but it was also one that fully met her eyes for the first time since the battle started. “Let it be.”


He didn’t argue.


Rebecca returned her attention to the battle just in time to see the drill drop. The several miles by several miles, disgustingly colossal drill that could probably crush the entire Docks district if dropped on the city.


Her eyes widened. 


“Brace for-!”


It struck like a meteor, drowning out her words completely, and the ocean exploded.


Shields that had just gone down in the midst of shocked silence abruptly sprang back up, and just in time, too. The splash back from the drill’s cataclysmic descent was heavy, tons upon tons of water washing ashore and crashing into the defending line like a miniature tsunami, but with everyone with forcefield and shielding abilities working together, interlocking their powers into a bastion of tall, glowing energy, the water did not make it past the shoreline.


It was difficult to see through the myriad of different colored hardlight, but Rebecca was hardly one to be worried about a bit of water. Not with her invulnerability. She surged forward, and on either side of her, she could see several others do the same thing - pushing through the shields or even outright dropping them, stumbling forward into the wet, water-logged sand in order to catch a closer glimpse at the battle of the titans.


FWOOOOM!


Most of them had to shield their eyes.


But Rebecca did not.


She watched, her heart racing even faster beneath her breast, as Avalon - such a small, small figure in comparison to the gigantic weapon he wielded - was consumed by towering pillars of white hot flame. The fire roared towards the sky, clearing the clouds, writhing and angry and damn near alive in its ferocity, and the drill just kept on spinning. Beyond the distant sound of fire, the grating dissonance of metal grinding and drilling into something that should’ve been impenetrable… it was loud. Louder, even, than the pouring of rain and the rushing of waves. If it was this loud so far away, she couldn’t even imagine what it sounded like up close.


More than any normal human being could withstand, for sure.


And yet he beared down, a dark, rebellious blip against glowing metal. He’d already breached the ocean’s floor. She felt it beneath her feet when the earth shook, and she felt it even now as the sand vibrated and stirred across the beach like a low-magnitude earthquake. The shields were completely down now, and all thoughts of ‘holding position’ were thrown out the metaphorical window. Nearly every cape on site was scrambling as close to the water as they could get without outright stepping into the surf.


To Rebecca’s surprise, Eidolon was amongst their number, close enough to her that she could hear his rough, accelerated breathing. His mask glowed green beneath his hood, and rather than staring out towards Avalon, his attention was aimed down into the depths of the ocean, where the drill had plunged Leviathan miles beneath the surface of the water.


“There,” he murmured distantly, his thin voice low but electric with barely restrained awe. “Right there. He’s- he’s killing it. Its core… The drill’s breaking through.”


“N-no fucking way.”


“Please… please let this be real. Please!”


“Come on, Avalon. COME ON! FINISH IT!”


Voices rippled through the crowd; disbelieving, awestruck, scared. Behind her, his voice muffled against fabric, a man was choking on a sob. Somewhere to her right, a woman was screaming her throat hoarse and bloody, desperately egging Avalon on, bidding him to ‘kill the sonuvabitch’. Somewhere closer to her left, another female - this one a girl, a Ward - was murmuring a prayer beneath her breath in another language. Spanish. Only, she was not pleading to God. She was pleading to Avalon.


Unwittingly, he answered her prayers.


The core shattered.


Rebecca couldn’t see it happen. Not in the way Eidolon clearly could with whatever visual power he was running in his set, but no one could mistake an underwater explosion of light so damned green for anything but the death of Leviathan. The resulting detonation blasted the poor ocean apart for the second time, the eruption of green energy surging up through the scattered spray of water and engulfing Avalon in his entirety, hurling him up towards the sky. The drill - his impossible, monstrous drill - shattered the second he was yanked away, breaking apart into millions of fluttering glowing shards of metal that scattered like golden fireflies against the night.


And just like that…


Leviathan was dead.


An Endbringer was dead.


His head, decapitated and reptilian, was the first of his body parts to float up to the surface. And then an arm. And then a leg.


Rebecca was frozen, and yet, so was the world.


For a long, long moment, no one moved. No one spoke. 


Distantly, over the surface of the ocean, the golden, blurred form of a speeding, flying motorcycle flashed in the darkness, the roar of its engine far enough away to be blunted by the sound of the lingering storm. Helicopters were moving in on ground zero as well, shining lights down both the slowly descending Avalon and the floating, amputated limbs of the once feared Endbringer.


On the beach, it was Armsmaster who broke the silence first.


"...No."


His voice was raw. Quiet. Disbelieving.


Legend inhaled shakily, his usually confident and unshakable composure cracking at the edges. “It’s… dead.”


“He did what he’d promised,” Rebecca murmured, dark eyes glancing sharply between her two teammates. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “He delivered. And then some.”


"That-" Eidolon sounded shaken. Not just surprised, not just thrown - genuinely shaken. His hands curled at his sides, the air around him shifting in a way that made Rebecca’s instincts flare. Because, to him, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He had spent years chasing something like this. An impossible battle. A worthy battle.


And Avalon had taken it, and done with it what he could never have done in a million years.


"That wasn’t how it was supposed to go," Eidolon murmured. "That-"


"-was the single greatest thing I have ever seen in my life," Assault cut in. His voice was hoarse, almost laughing, almost crying. No, he was crying. Unashamedly, at that. "Holy shit. Holy- holy shit."


A tense, uncertain silence struck them again.


The only sound was the rain, a steady, persistent drumbeat against the shell shocked beach team. It was surreal - after everything, after the chaos, the screaming, the uncertainty that Avalon would prevail, or if he was dead, or if they were all going to have to fight for their lives… the world had simply continued. The ocean, still churning from the battle and the storm, was ordinary now. Boring.


And Leviathan was gone.


An Endbringer was dead.


Rebecca watched mutely as people began falling to their knees. Not out of exhaustion, but simply because their bodies gave out beneath them. Relief crashed into them like a tidal wave, drowning them in something too vast, too overwhelming to process all at once. She knew the feeling, because even with her considerable brainpower and composure, it was hard to come to terms with everything she’d just witnessed, too.


It was over.


A woman - a Behemoth battle veteran from Boston, Farsight, she distantly clocked - let out a shaky breath, then crumpled. Not unconscious. Just… sobbing.


She wasn’t alone.


A cape - someone Rebecca actually didn’t recognize - let out a laugh. Not a happy sound, not even truly a sound of relief. Just a raw, disbelieving exhale, edged with hysteria and filled to the brim with shock.


“He actually did it,” they whispered.


“He actually did it.” Another man confirmed, his voice quiet. Reverent. “Avalon. Avalon killed Leviathan. A-Avalon killed Leviathan. AVALON. KILLED. LEVIATHAN!”


Avalon killed Leviathan.


Somewhere in the crowd, someone cheered.


It wasn’t notably loud. It wasn’t triumphant. It was hoarse, breaking mid-shout - but the moment it started, the dam burst.


The first cheer became two.


Then three.


Then dozens.


And then, in a hoarse, unsteady, uncertain roar, the capes of Brockton Bay - the warriors of what was thought to be an unwinnable war mere minutes ago - were screaming at the top of their lungs, cheering their throats ragged as the Endbringer slayer was brought back to the beach in the arms of his blonde-haired lieutenant; unconscious, burned, with his skin still glimmering with veins of gold… but alive, and triumphant.


Avalon killed Leviathan!


It was a couple minutes later that Rebecca realized that she was shouting too, her heart beating through her chest, her soul soaring in a way that it hadn’t been able to in years. Decades.


And so she did not stop. She savored this feeling. 


This victory.


She savored this man that brought this horrible, horrible world hope.


Avalon killed Leviathan…


The celebration lasted long into the night. And through it all, their hero slept soundly, like a baby. 


As he deserved.


________________________________


Jason Black

???


The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the dreary darkness of a deadened sky, illuminated only by the silvery white rays of light emanating from a half-crescent moon. The sight was marred by the gnarled, thin branches of some sort of ash-colored tree, rippling across my vision like bolts of lightning. The air was still - no scents whatsoever, and I felt…


Cold.


Unnaturally, spine-chillingly cold.


“No. Fuckin’. Shit. Hold on.” 


My voice came out in its usual low, vaguely southern drawl, but to my own ears, it sounded floaty. Disembodied. It echoed like I was speaking in a compact metal room, loud and tinny despite how quietly I’d murmured to myself. More noticeably, the ever-present sensation of Hidden Intuition, a nigh silent voice of wisdom and introspection whispering in my ear, was absent. I could feel the mana in my body regenerating swiftly, the lake of magic contained within my core quickly refilling as the seconds ticked by, but there was just something wrong…


Silently, I exhaled, and a thin white mist drifted from between my lips.


“... Am I dead?”


I waited several long, cold seconds. 


No one answered me.


“Yeah, alright. Nah. Fuck that.”


I pushed myself off of the ground, feeling the damp, dew-covered soil cling to my exposed back. My body was fully healed, all the aches and burns from my fight with Leviathan gone as if it had never been, but so were the marks from overusing my connection to the Winds of Magic. When I flipped over my hand, the back of my palm held nothing but smooth, unmarred brown skin, and when I glided my tongue against my teeth, it didn’t feel as if it was made from gold.


So if I was going to be boxing Death to get back to my home, I’d be doing it at tip top shape. That, at the very least, was good.


My eyes quickly darted across what appeared to be my ‘afterlife’. 


The foreboding landscape stretched out before me in eerie, dreamlike silence, as if time itself had frozen the world in place. The ground was covered in an overgrowth of dark, nearly black grass, looking as if it was charred by unseen flames, yet damp mist coiled around my ankles - almost like little spirits, begging for attention. The looming,  skeletal gray trees stood in scattered clusters, their roots clawing at the earth, their branches reaching up and out toward the moonlit sky. 


I felt as if I’d just stepped into some sort of fucked up purgatory.


Farther out at the horizon, right at the limits of what I could see, the dark land seemed twisted in on itself, folding into distant, dirt-beaten roads that forked and crossed into each other, stretching beyond sight in impossible directions. It hurt to stare at it for too long, a pressure weighing in on the back of my eyes and slowly, yet surely squeezing down on my brain. The entire area was cloaked in a mist that seemed to grow thicker when I focused, and thinner if I looked away.


And now that I was paying more attention… I could feel it. The presence of magic, raw and entirely separate from the Winds, pushing down on top of the air itself. I couldn’t see it the way I could see and feel my own, but some sort of sixth sense - the same one that allowed me to sense when Cassie or Aisha channeled their magicka - keyed me in. This was a foreign magic. 


It felt… heavy. 


Ancient.


It felt powerful. More powerful than mine, for sure. But if this was death, or limbo, or wherever the fuck I would’ve went after croaking in my sleep, why wouldn’t it be? That didn’t mean I wouldn’t figure my way out of this mess, Hidden Intuition or not. 


I rolled my shoulders, adjusting to the unnatural weight pressing against my skin, and ran a hand through my hair. 


“‘Ight,” I breathed out that cool mist, feeling my mana - mostly regenerated - surge eagerly through my body, “Attempt Numero Uno: Let’s blow this bitch up.”


The second those decisive words escaped my lips, the night sky was suddenly set aflame by a roaring pillar of magical green fire.


FWOOM!


Even from a respectable distance, something primal and intrinsic in my body warned me of those emerald flames, a baser instinct recognizing the mortal danger in spite of their lack of actual heat. There was no wind, but the ashen trees silently shook and danced in place as if the arrival of the strange fire brought a storm alongside it. Somewhere out further than my eyes could see, a dog howled.


From within the fire, a tall, willowy silhouette eased forward, its looming shadow flickering unnaturally across the flames.


Over my head, twenty-five spears of golden magic coalesced into existence. In my right hand, it’s impossibly light shaft warm against my palm, came my Armament.


‘Second boss fight of the day,’ I thought casually, though my blood and mana raged within my veins from adrenaline. ‘… Light work-‘


But then, I saw her.


And for one of the very first times since I became a mage…


I was at a complete loss for words.


The woman was tall - much taller than me or anyone else I’d seen back on Earth Bet, and Coil was one tall motherfucker. Despite being tall enough to pat Shaquille O’ Neal on the head and call him a ‘good boy’, she was also lean instead of broad, with her exposed, chocolate brown midriff rippling with chiseled muscle and abs that looked as if they’d been sculpted from marble itself.


I actually couldn’t see much, if any of her actual appearance; she was covered in dark-colored clothing sans her midsection, her head shrouded by a large, wide-brimmed hat decorated by a braided cord and a gleaming silver moon - the same one that was currently looming in the night sky. A thin burgundy fabric wrapped around her lower face, covering everything from her nose onwards and leaving twin pools of glowing, effervescent green peeking out as her eyes.


Her outfit reminded me, very distantly, of a ridiculously sexy combination of both a Witch Hunter and a Witch Doctor - two completely different occupations on either ends of the spectrum, but this odd woman made it work well. Something at the back of my mind itched as I looked over the silver, head-shaped pauldrons on her shoulders and the flowing, seafoam green tassels hanging from her belts and shoulders, but I was certain I’d never seen her before.


So why did I suddenly feel so… nostalgic? 


“Peace, Jason Black,” she chuckled, her own disembodied voice echoing with a powerful and lilting trill against the trees. With a casual wave of one silver-girded hand, the cold green pillar of fire was snuffed in an instant, and in its place - gripped in her clawed, loose grip - was a tall, ornately decorated silver torch.


It blazed, much more softly, with the same green fire she’d arrived in. “You are neither dead nor stuck here. You’ve sown plenty of destruction today, as targeted as it was, and you will undoubtedly be the cause of more in the weeks to come. There is hardly need for more. Not here, in this place.”


There was something very comforting about the way she spoke her words. It was almost as if she was coaxing them out, her crisp, accented voice both as soft as a whisper and as clear and ringing as a bell. 


I found my shoulders untensing, but just as she held that mystical torch, I refused to relinquish my hold on my spear.


“That remains to be seen,” I responded dryly, tilting my head. My eyes roamed up and down, scanning the abnormally tall figure once again, lingering for half a second on the gravity-defying, silky brown jugs hanging freely beneath her silver-trimmed crop top. “How do I know if you’re lying? Can't really see your face, and my internal lie detector’s actin’ up. You could be Lady Death for all I know, playin’ tricks on me to snatch my soul. It’s probably pretty valuable nowadays, I’ve found.”


A chuckle - husky and low, yet clear and tinkling like bells - escaped the mysterious, shrouded woman. Her eyes crinkled on the edges, softening its harsh green glow ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t I know it, my young and amusing Champion, far and beyond anyone else in existence. Search said invaluable soul, Jason Black, and draw your own conclusion.”


Champion?


As she spoke, she began walking towards me with slow, unhurried steps, though her exceedingly long legs made her strides double or triple that of a normal person’s. Rather than show weakness or doubt by backing away, I decided to go with my gut and simply do as she said - closing my eyes and allowing myself to drift down through the depths of my soul and into the ocean of light that was my Celestial Grimoire.


I felt her draw closer to me as I worked, her proximity warm against my skin, yet her magic hot against my own. Overbearing. It was distracting, considering I could even hear her breath and smell the scent of mint and honey as she drifted around my still form, but my will was stronger than most hot-blooded young men.


I maintained my focus, dug deep, and-


[Your First Trial has been completed. The Celestial Grimoire will now undergo emendation. Please stand-by.]


[Goddess Hecate looks upon you with favor.]


[Reward: (1x) Major Erudition Perk]


My soul shuddered. The words crossed over my vision like closed captions, all fancy golden font and looping symbols, but it was as quick as a bullet - one second it was there, and the next, I was seeing nothing but twinkling stars and darkness. 


My Reality Marble.


I tried to look around, but I could no longer move. But somehow, I could still feel that my eyes were closed, and my body was standing still. I was existing in two places at once- Hell, maybe even three if this whole thing was what I thought it probably was, and my brain struggled to wrap around that fact. Before me, in that starry void, like a movie scene playing in slow motion, a massive, leather-bound tome gilded in golden and silver runes materialized out of nowhere.


Towering. Staggering, really. I wanted to look up, but I could not move. Yet I wouldn’t even need to, considering how perfectly it fit in my view.


The cover opened, countless pages fluttering one by one in a blur until the first page revealed itself. And on that page, scrawled in looping cursive at the top, was: 


MIGHT.


And then the next, after another few seconds of fluttering,


DOMINION.


Then, as the pages flipped, I saw two more of these head categories; ARTIFICE and ERUDITION.


Each one was written on top of its own page, and yet the Grimoire was so damned big, its pages so plentiful, that dozens or hundreds or even thousands of pages could flutter by until you reached the next category. Beneath each of these four categories, burned into the white of the metaphysical ‘paper’ in the same fancy, looping font, were each of the Perks I’d from the Grimoire since the very beginning.


Force of Spirit, beneath the ‘DOMINION’ category…


Heroic Aptitude and Weapon Magic, located beneath MIGHT…


Spellcaster, one that I’d lowkey forgotten about due to its passive benefits, scrawled beneath ERUDITION…


Each and every single one was catalogued, and the categories they were sorted under seemed to make sense, as well. The closest I could relate this whole thing to was some sort of RPG, the genre of which I was an avid fan of back when I actually had time to enjoy video games. It was almost as if I’d gone and went into my ‘Skills’ menu in Skyrim, and was scrolling through my list of obtained perks. Convenient, and it gave me a better idea of where I stood.


Counting through them all, I possessed fifty-fucking-three perks in total, a little less than a quarter of which I’d often forgotten about in favor of my more favored ones.


Power Granting Deal would come in handy in these next couple weeks, then. I could see a few Perks I would not mind giving away entirely to the rest of Invictus, considering how I either don’t actually use them, or their function is redundant since another, more utilized perk does the same or similar thing. And considering the time to hunt down and slaughter the Slaughterhouse Nine was rapidly approaching, I’d be leaving Earth Bet soon. I’d feel a hell of a lot better leaving them with more magical bullshit to hold shit down while I was gone.


But that was for later.


My mind went back to those words earlier.


Goddess Hecate looks upon you with favor.


…


Motherfucker-


“It would appear as though you’ve thought things through. Good. Time is a commodity neither of us possess, in spite of your… peculiar abilities. I dare say it is actively against us.”


In a flash of stars and a whiff of mint, I suddenly found myself staring up into bottomless depths of large, dusky, soft-looking cleavage resting lazily atop washboard abs.


When I craned my head back, I caught only a glimpse of that crinkled smile creasing the edges of her eyes before she schooled her expression completely. She was watching me now. Waiting. But I could not read her, save for the clear amusement she seemed to tease me with like a goose feather. 


This was her. The Goddess from the note. The one who’d dragged me from my world, placed an artifact of infinite magical potential in my soul, and plopped me down in a grimdark web serial of epic proportions.


Hecate. The Witch of the Crossroads. A Titaness, a Goddess, and the very personification of magic.


My tongue suddenly felt dry in my mouth.


I let out a slow breath, cracking my neck as I fought to suppress the knee-jerk reaction to bow. Not out of fear, but because some ancient, intrinsic part of me - the part that recognized power, that whispered reverence and shied away in the face of the truly divine - screamed at me to show deference. But I wasn’t some ancient Greek peasant groveling before an altar. I was Jason Black, and if there was one thing I refused to do, it was kneel for anyone… unless it was done in the act of carnal pleasure. That was a happy exception.


So I met her gaze.


Or at least, I tried to. It was difficult, given that she was a whole goddamn foot and a half  taller than me. But I set my jaw, kept my grip on my spear firm, and willed my voice steady.


“Well, fuck,” I chuckled wryly, licking my lips. “Guess I should’ve expected this at some point. You didn’t exactly hide your intentions to meet me.”


Hecate tilted her head slightly, the motion somehow graceful despite how little effort it took. “Indeed. ‘Twas only a matter of time before we spoke face to face, as loosely as that saying may be in these particular circumstances.”


I breathed evenly through my nose, forcing my magic to ground me, to keep me centered. It wasn’t often that you met the Goddess of Magic, and the last thing I’d thought would happen when I passed out over the Atlantic Ocean was to wake up in some misty dream sequence with this absolute smoke show of a mini-giantess.


“Then I take it this ain’t a social call, considering your whole… Everything,” I gestured broadly to her overbearing presence with both hands, a small, crooked grin pulling at the corner of my lips. “You’ve gotta be super busy, right? Don't know much about the Greek Gods and Goddesses, but aren’t y’all fighting each other, like, every other weekend behind the Olympian Waffle House or something? I’m honored by your presence for sure, but…”


A snort, sharp and surprised, and escaped the Goddess’ shrouded face. “Unfortunately no, young Jason, this is not a ‘social call’, as much as I yearn to sit down and teach you in the ways of magic. True magic. To show you the breadth of all that you can do with the infinite power resting at the tips of your fingers, and in the recesses of your soul.”


She paused, as if debating which words to say next, and how. Her eyes never strayed away from my own, pulling me into a staring contest so intense that I could almost feel the static arcing between us. “But, be that as it may… As it stands, that luxury is a luxury a fair bit above both of our pay-grades. For now. Such a pity…”


There was something in the way that she whispered those words. So softly, yet with a sort of velvety promise hidden in plain sight. I wasn’t a dense man… or, at least, I tried not to be. I’d been a bit of a ladies’ man before being dropped into Earth Bet, and although Hidden Intuition bridged the gap in my empathy and emotional intelligence that the alexithymia warped, I’d always had a good eye and ear for social-fu.


Which was why I felt both confused, excited, and scared, all in one, at the subtle fuck-me eyes my supposed Goddess was hitting me with.


She was attracted to me. Of that much I was certain. But she also didn’t want me to know… or, Hell, maybe she didn’t even realize it?


I would normally do something with this information. Push the envelope a bit, flirt around, see if I could tease out a satisfying reaction. But as flippant as I could be at times, right now wasn’t it.


Instead, I allowed myself these brief few seconds of intense eye-fucking to reorganize my thoughts and chew on the implications behind her words. “… Right. You are Hecate, the Goddess who shoved the Grimoire into my soul and plucked me from my home world, right? ‘Goddess Hecate looks upon you with favor’ is what it said when I checked out the ol’ soul space.”


An arch of her delicate, slim eyebrows was the only shift in Hecate’s expression. “‘Looks upon you with favor’… An apt synopsis, if quite embarrassing to hear spoken aloud. Yes, I am Hecate- and judging by the reality I ‘plucked’ you from, one of an inestimable amount, as is the same with all beings in the multiverse.”


She paused, tilting her head as she looked down at me. A twinkle of curiosity and amusement, blended together, glinted in her glowing green eyes. “Tell me, Jason Black… What do you think is happening? You’ve a good head on your shoulders, and instincts that ring true more oft than not. Impress me.”


… What?


I let out a low, rueful chuckle. “Hold on. Impress you? Impress you? The past two months of surviving a war against super-powered neo-nazis, terrorists, dragons, and killing a motherfuckin’ Endbringer ain’t enough for you, Miss Goddess? If it’s all the same, I think I’m done with the magical party tricks for now. Out of mana.”


The words weren’t meant to come out as sharp and sarcastic as they did, but sometimes I failed to properly register the emotions I’m feeling, and they could get away from me. In this instance, even I was surprised at the quiet flame of anger simmering in my chest. 


I wasn’t necessarily angry at being pulled into Bet. Not after falling in love twice over, and becoming the most powerful human in that world. Who would be? But it seemed that there was some latent resentment still lingering around. 


Hecate did not seem to mind. If anything, she seemed… contrite? It was hard to tell with the utter lack of facial expression I had to deal with, but-


“Words spoken lightly can still strike nerves. I spoke callously, and without thinking. My sincerest apologies.” She shook her head slightly, and behind her, braided tresses of soft green hair lashed against her legs from the movement. When she looked at me again, her gaze was somehow even more powerful in its intensity, as if she was forcibly willing me to feel her regret. “Both for the faux pas, and for taking you away from all that you’ve ever known. ‘Tis a selfish decision made in a time of excitement, where matters of the heart weren’t as involved as they should have been. I am not so arrogant a Goddess as to stubbornly ignore my own faults and malefactions, and before we get to the heart of our joining here, I will ask for your forgiveness, my Champion.”


…


What did it mean for me and Earth Bet that a Goddess and a Titaness - a woman of powerful, knowledge, and authority that I could barely even understand right now - somehow offered me the most sincerest of apologies that I’d ever received in… yeah, my entire fucking life? I watched, genuinely gobsmacked, as she took one smooth, graceful step backwards, bowed her head, and kneeled.


Actually knelt before me.


And just like that, what little anger that was stirring in my gut abruptly snuffed itself out.


“How the hell do I stay mad at that?” I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. A quiet, husky chuckle escaped my chest before I could stifle it. “You can stand, Hecate. I’m not the type to start screamin’ in rage over old shit. ‘Specially not old shit that ended with me gaining overpowered magical abilities.”


She raised her head slowly. “Truly?”


God…s, her way of speaking was quickly growing on me. 


“Truly,” I smirked, stepping forward and offering her my hand. “It’s chill. We can do it like this; you tell me where the fuck we are, why we’re here, and why you chose me in particular… and I’ll forgive you. Officially.”


Her eyes crinkled again, and a chuff of cool, pleasant-smelling air escaped her lips. “Hmph. As opposed to an unofficial acquittance, I’d imagine. It is an unfair deal in my favor, but I won’t spit upon your generosity. We’ve a deal, my Champion.”


And there was that word again.


Champion.


Her hand was large, warm, and soft when she took mine gently by the finger-tips, but it was me who pulled her back up to her feet with an effortless ease, her weight a mere fraction of a fraction of what I’d just lifted not even an hour prior. She didn’t let go, even after standing to her full height, and neither did I. 


“… My thanks. Now; where, pray tell, would you like me to begin? As mentioned before, our time together is fleeting. I will see you properly informed before we must part.”


“Let’s start with the Where,” I replied immediately, pausing to glance around the creepy forest path we stood in the midst of. “Not my favorite decor, but I can see the appeal. Very… Wiccan.”


Hecate chuckled again. She, I was quickly learning, was not as stuffy or emotionless as I would’ve thought a Goddess would be. Not at all. 


“You’ve a good eye for style,” she murmured amusedly, and with a slow, deliberate pull, she extracted her hand from my fingertips and drew away from me, sweeping her arm out towards the winding paths on the horizon. “This, young Jason, is a location known as the Crossroads. A plane that exists at the boundaries of all things. Life and Death. Fate and choice. Magic, and mundanity. ‘Tis a place where all roads meet - and where all roads can diverge.”


I swallowed, eyeing those distant, headache-inducing paths with a newfound respect. What, you mean metaphorically, or…?”


She turned her head to smile at me again, her voice warm with a surprising fondness. “Metaphor and reality are often intertwined, my Champion. That, amusingly enough, is the foundation of reaching true understanding of magic. All magic. You will obtain such comprehension with time and study, of that I’m sure, but - those are matters of inconsequential import this day. Come.”


Before I knew it, we were walking in the direction of the winding paths - the Crossroads. I trailed after Hecate’s much longer strides, doing my absolute best to avoid staring too openly at her sashaying hips. We traveled for what felt like only a very brief few seconds; one moment, we were stepping onto a thin, misty trail leading out to the Crossroads, and the next, we were in the midst of the winding, haphazard trails. The mist was at its thickest here, and not even my eyes could pierce its veil. At least, not completely.


Hecate raised her silver-encased hand, and her torch materialized overhead, floating beneath its own power. The green flame at the end grew into a crackling blaze, and as if chastened, the heavy mists fled away for several feet in all directions, leaving the immediate area around us completely clear.


More interestingly, the roads shifted again, reorganizing themselves into a pattern that actually made sense. One path led directly to the left, while the other forked off towards the right. Both inevitably disappeared into the thicker mist too far away to be chased away by Hecate’s torch.


I narrowed my eyes. “What-“


“Two roads, two choices,” she interrupted me, grasping my bare shoulder with one gentle hand. “To the left lies the life I tore you away from. Walk that path to its end and you will find yourself back on your Earth, two weeks after your sudden disappearance from your New York apartment. Your mother is safe and of sound mind, but hopelessly worried. Your return will bring her great peace of mind.”


Her touch was soft, her skin warm, and what felt like electricity surged through my system at the sensation. It wasn’t a spell - or, at least, it wasn’t magical. But I could not think about the unspoken tension charging the air between me and this Goddess… Not with the sudden ache in my heart. I’d done my absolute best to push past my old life over these last couple months, refusing to dwell on old memories and old connections, but-


“Mom…” I breathed, clenching my fists at my side. I wanted to be angry, to give Hecate a piece of my mind, but the rage simply wouldn’t bear its ugly head. I probably expended all of it fighting the fucking Endbringer.


Exhaling, I schooled my features and looked at the other path. “And the other one?”


She squeezed my shoulder gently. Supportively. When she spoke, it was in a quiet, almost deferential whisper. “To the right… lies the path you currently walk. Jason, the decision to grant you the Celestial Grimoire… ‘Twas hardly a decision made with me as the sole party. I, and a coven of three other Goddesses - We, that is to say, I, well… Ugh. By the moon and stars, ‘tis embarrassing to utter aloud.”


In spite of myself, I couldn’t quite keep the smirk off my face. “Take your time, Lady Goddess. We’ve got all night, don’t we?”


Her nails dug into my skin, too soft to do any real damage, but just hard enough for me to feel it. “Your cheekiness is unbecoming, Jason. Alas, ‘tis hardly an unexpected trait. Spare me until the end of my tale, if you’d please.”


I shrugged. “No problem, though I’ve got a pretty good feeling that I know where this is going.”


“Verily?” She hummed, curiosity open and free in her voice.


I nodded my head. “Yeah. Let’s add up the facts; you and a coven of three other Goddesses came together to choose me as the bearer of the Celestial Grimoire, a font of infinite magical power that I’m sure required the collaboration of each and every single one of you to create. 


“You’ve called me your Champion several times now, and you don’t seem like you’re gonna get tired of saying it anytime soon. You’re proud of me, and you’re the only one here. Meaning, if I’m readin’ this right, I’m only yours - and the other Goddesses are just voyeuristic, magical sugar mommies . Well… You are too, but at least there’s a relationship established between us. A connection. Am I on the correct path so far, Lady Goddess?”


Silence. 


When I tilted my head back to look at her, Hecate’s eyes were wide, a green hue emanating from over the lip of her mask as she stared down at me. “R-right. Ahem. Yes, you’re…  frustratingly precise so far; surprising, for I took extra precautions against certain perks whilst preparing this space for your arrival. Please, do continue. Vulgarity aside, I find myself pleasantly impressed by your guile.”


My gut instinct turned out correct once again. In that case…


“Let’s see… you wrote on that sticky note, and I quote, ‘I am looking forward to seeing what you can do. Many beings are watching in interest, so please do not disappoint.’ That’s telling. To summarize; you chose me as your Champion for some unknown reason, got together with three Goddesses to help ‘sugar mommy’ me up a crazy magical artifact, and then y'all proceeded to watch my misadventures from on high like my life was some sort of steamy, action-packed soap opera tailor-made for your entertainment. Kinda fucked, but we’re past that now. And now that I think about it a bit more, it’s kinda hot. Fucked up, but hot.”


I was pacing as I spoke, one finger tapping against my chin, and Hecate released my shoulder without complaint. She watched me from beneath her wide-brimmed witch hat, as silent as the mist drifting around our torch-lit circle, yet the flush of heat glowing from her cheeks grew brighter and brighter as the seconds ticked by.


“Crude… But not entirely inaccurate. Though I may keep certain things under wraps, I will never outright lie to you, my Champion.”


“That’s it though, right?” I drawled, pausing mid-pace to glance over at her. “That’s what my ‘current path’ is. You’ll tell me what this ‘Celestial Grimoire upgrade’ entails, wish me ‘good morrow’ or whatever, and send me on my way to continue fucking and magic-ing my way through the multiverse. All in the name of the glorious Hecate, Witch of the Crossroads, and for the amusement and pleasure of a coven of beautiful, all-powerful Goddesses.”


Hecate squinted, her voice cautious and soft as she spoke, “... Jason, ‘tis not-”


“Because I’m not gonna lie,” I grinned, running a hand through my hair, “That sounds fuckin’ amazing. Sign me up for door number two, Lady Goddess.”


…


“You-” She stiffened, her tightly controlled body language coming completely undone for the first time since I’d met her. The flames of her torch flickered, smoldering and then blazing even higher, chasing away several more feet of mist. “Surely you jest? Without the aid of your bevy of divination magics, you’ve exposed the ugly roots of a Goddess’ greed, pride, and desire. I spearheaded the kidnapping of a human’s soul, swept across the planes to survive an onerous Trial, yet you say you’re… okay with it? What of your mother, Jason? Your old life?”


I arched an eyebrow. “You’re the one who said that metaphor and reality are intertwined, Lady Hecate. You watch over the Crossroads. You and your mysterious friends created the Grimoire. Hell, you’re the one who mentioned the fact that I would eventually be able to venture through different worlds. Why give up all of this to go back to being some boring nobody… When I could just keep all the magic swag and find my homeworld on my own?”


She exhaled softly in realization. “Quantum Transition Energy… a quaint, yet effective tool for breaching the barrier between realities. I did not think of it whilst paving these two roads. My mind and heart was yet distracted by lingering guilt. Sloppy.”


“Empathetic,” I idly corrected her. “Believe it or not, it’s a good thing. Most of the time.”


“Quite. If only more of my family felt the same,” she chuckled. It was a tired, wry sound. “The Silver Sisters would like you, I’d reckon. You’ve a good heart, Jason, but even beyond that - you’ve a spectacular soul. Unfortunately, I sense my hold on this realm weakening. We exist here only in spirit, and whilst we dally and speak of feelings and motivations, my true self labors tirelessly at a handicap.”


I raised an eyebrow, unable to help the flicker of concern that surged through me - as illogical as it was. “Need any help? I’m not a God, but I can punch up. Just gotta send me the coords.”


Hecate blinked. “... Cute. You are quite precious, my Champion. Perhaps in a couple years’ time, but as of now, you must continue your own path.”


A rejection.


Tough.


But it made sense. I inclined my head. “Then I know which road to take. You got anything more for me, my Lady?


Her eyes crinkled - another smile achieved. I’d noticed it before, but it was glowingly apparent now; Hecate absolutely adored being spoken to as if she’s my Patron Goddess, which… I guess she actually was. She was eating this whole thing up. “Indeed. As you’ve seen, the Celestial Grimoire will be undergoing a change soon. The slaying of one of that horrid world’s ‘Endbringers’ was your First ‘Trial’, and by passing it - quite admirably, might I add - you have completed what you mortals refer to as the ‘tutorial’. Before-”


“Wait. Killing Leviathan… The Leviathan was a ‘tutorial’ to you?” I deadpanned, sending the Goddess an unimpressed glare. “Who the fuck balanced your little game?”


She sighed. “‘Twas Frey-... Ah, never you mind. ‘Tis of no import. You proved to be its superior in every way, and ‘tis all that matters as the dust clears. Before, your perks were randomly distributed to you on a completely random basis. ‘Twas our first attempt at doing something so… modern, and it took time to perfect the formulae. Now, however, you shall receive Quests from the coven as befits your world, your desires, and your progress as a mage.”


I didn’t bother mentioning how obvious it was that she’d almost said ‘Freya’. We were running out of time, after all, and the odds of me meeting the Norse Goddess in the future was absurdly high at this point.


Instead, I worked to confirm my own theories.


“Uh-huh. ‘Ight, so completin’ these Quests… I’m guessing I’ll be granted the chance to roll for a new perk beneath those categories I saw inside of my Grimoire. Might, Dominion, Artifice, and Erudition. Considering I got a ‘Major Erudition’ roll from that Trial, the scalability of these perks are most likely weighed from ‘Minor’, all the way up to ‘Major’, with the difficulty of the Quest decidin’ the size of the rewarded perk. Yeah?”


Hecate blinked again. Slowly. “By the moon… If this meeting has shown me anything, ‘tis that I have chosen my one and only Champion wisely. Yes, I dare say that you are wholly correct in your hypothesis, Jason. And just in time.”


She reached up and grasped her torch. As soon as her fingers closed around the silver shaft, the green flame blazed even brighter, turning into a floating, flickering bonfire that raged with a silent ferocity. The mist retreated quickly, nearly disappearing all together, and the second path - my path - was revealed in its near entirety. It led off into the darkness of the night, unobstructed but shrouded by the shadows.


The Goddess inclined her head towards me, a wistful curve to her lidded, beautiful eyes. “Alas, ‘tis regretful that our time for discourse is so fleeting, but as you’ve said before, ‘it is what it is’. A rather poignant turn of phrase.”


Smiling, I bowed my head in turn. “I’ll teach you some more soon. ‘Till we meet again, my Lady.”


“Until fate and will entwine once more,” she murmured, her voice strong and clear. Her hand reached out, as if to touch me, but she halted it a couple of mere feet away. “Walk boldly, my precious Champion. You are mine, as I am yours. Now and forever, for our paths are so linked.”


And so I turned, and I walked. I walked for what felt like a very, very long time.


Until I woke up to the squawking of birds, and the feeling of three soft, warm, squishy bodies wrapped around my own.


And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt…


That my path led me right back home, where I was supposed to be.