my boy (angel) and his (their) tap shoes in all seriousness, though, THIS IS IT MY DUDES GUYS IM ACTUALLY WORKING ON REWRITING THIS CHAPTER SO HANG ON OKAY --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- trigger warnings death --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FINALLY, TO THE POINT Fire flickered at the edges of his wrists and fingertips, the warmth spreading through his arm with the familiar tingling sensation. Leo may have all the flashy shows of firepower and burning buildings, but he had a twist. Sagittarius nocked a burning arrow. With Aries to his back and the Chess Queen to his right, they would successfully burn down the chambers of the ‘god’ fallen from grace. That wasn’t a hope. Just a statement. And a factual one, at that. /Tick, tick./ /Click./ An alarm shuttered to a stop, the clock’s hands dragging along the surface of the large, pale torus. The hour was just past twelve - on its way to thirteen, and the minute was lagging behind at eight-nine. Standing on a floating, wispy platform of deadened soil, crumbling away into the abyss below, a slim, tall girl stands, her gloved hands trembling and her face hidden by her silvery-mauve headscarf. She clutches a crumbled, burning sheet of old parchment with old script on it. It’s burnt around the edges, but the words have yet to vanish into ashes and broken embers. The stars are shattering again, the glass raining to the Earth and Heavens below, cutting and slicing through not flesh but soul and dispensing damage that cannot be seen and cannot be felt yet has all the influence as a mortal wound. It must be stopped. “Death!” the girl called. “It’s time!” Her voice shakes the barest bit, reflecting the magnitude of the action she is about to take. And Death is there, standing above the abyss on what appears to be solid air. “Salah,” the green-cloaked figure acknowledges, but it is not her the girl speaks to next. “Kage!” the new God cried. “You cannot hide away any longer!” She took a deep breath. “It is time to face your actions.” And then he was there, his pale face a little paler than usual, his cocky lean to the side a tad more straight, and the fear in his eyes more pronounced than ever before. He was good at hiding it, usually, but this was an occasion of the sort that you could not come back from. “So you’re the new one, are you?” he said, eyeing Salah with a cold cruelty that made her shudder. Kage grinned, his eyes empty. “She’s young, isn’t she? Youngest yet?” His eyes were still on Salah, who looked rather uncomfortable, but he addressed Death. The God shook her head slowly, somehow looking at him with an icier gaze than his own. It nearly made him shudder, and he never so much as twitched when someone looked at him. A true and trained villain, that one. Knows she’s in control, and not willing to relent it. He could do better. /He’d be surprised at those in near-true control./ Salah decided to cut right to the chase; no real point in making small talk, especially not with the man (Demon? God? She couldn’t tell at this point) in front of her. With one hand, acting braver than she felt with all the poise she assumed would go hand in hand with playing God, she held up the burning parchment in front of her, her eyes studying his for his reaction. And it did not disappoint. His eyes successively widening then narrowing further, Kage took a step back. “How did you-” he hissed. “You seem to forget,” Salah said calmly, “That I am the new Replacement. You are a pale imitation of me.” She frightened herself with the words, not quite able to consider herself capable of them. Perhaps it was a side effect. Better to put on a pretense than to let him see how scared she was; that was what she would do. Act just like the grown ups. This appeared to be a step too far, though Salah reminded herself that she had all the reason to take that step as Kage’s face fought a mix of fear, anger, and disgust. He appeared to have finally settled on something. Throwing his hands back, Kage wrinkled his nose. “All that then, just for this? My question is,” he narrowed his eyes, “why wait so long? All these years, and you could have done this all along!” Death smiled patiently. “There is a reason we have a fifty year warning before God retires. We had no Replacement, and that takes thought.” The golden flower in her hair glinted. “No matter how much I may despise to admit it, killing Kami out of the blue like that really - what was the saying? - threw us for a loop.” Kage sneered at her. Very well, then. In every great story of another dead world, when the hero is just on the precipice of failure, a stroke of luck or cleverness - deux ex machina, if you must - would poise to save them. (cont)
(cont) However, he knew this to be simple wishful thinking (or meddling. Angels were annoying.) If he were to get out of it now, if he were to save this cursed multiverse by doing the right thing, he would have to do it of his own merit. Kage wracked his brain as Death continued to speak. “I suppose it was helpful, however, all the things your dear daughter did. She and her friend did summon the Children, and we do need someone to get rid of Hell. . .” “Speaking of the Children,” the new ‘God’ interjected, “they should be here soon.” She was smiling coolly as well, which helped to infuriate him further. Some people were just born for the role they assumed, and he could tell that this girl, whoever she presumed herself to be, was meant to be the antagonist in this tale. Alongside Death, of course. With a smooth, practiced swing of her arm, Death slid the golden blossom from under the fold of her hood and drew out her scythe. At this, Kage knew he would have to work for his freedom. The question was, did he want simply to live or did he want to win? “The Children are here,” the Replacement called, her head held high. A hot chill ran over Kage’s back as he stood, facing forwards and refusing to turn to meet them. The assassins lined up in front of him, a few with absent expressions, others of glee. The dark-haired girl he vaguely recognized as Aquarius stepped forward, air without wind swishing between her fingertips. Her eyes hardened as she looked over him, but not with disgust, as from the others, as much as with the cool practice of one who has spent many years ending other people’s lives. “On your knees,” she said patiently. “I will not,” he spat. “On your knees.” A gust of wind blew him down, banging against the hard nothingness below. “Salah,” Death invited warmly, the scythe glinting coldly in her arms. “You know what you’ve done,” the girl said, her shaking hands hiding under the layers of silk around her arms. /The clock was sliding to thirteen./ “The human justice system often fails us. The punishment does not fit the crime, and often the perpetrator is never caught or is allowed to roam free with the knowledge of their crimes as their only punishment, if a punishment at all.” /In the shadows, someone waits./ “However, we are not human. You cannot die yet. But you will.” She held up the parchment, which began to burn. Her teeth gritted and her brow furrowed with stress and exertment, Salah knew she couldn’t give in. She would not let him see her fail. “You are on your knees. And today, you will pay for your crimes.” Finally, the parchment went up in flames, crumbling to the ground. The black-haired girl stepped back. Death stepped forwards. And forced the ‘soul’ from his body with the blunt of her staff. A single tear dripped down his cheek. /I’m sorry, mom./ /And there he was, standing right by a long, dark stairwell with a penetrating chill coming from inside. He looked down into it and shivered involuntarily. It was really over. Perhaps heroes didn’t always win after all. The shock of it hadn’t quite hit him yet, just an emptiness where his ambitions used to be in his heart, a knowledge that he could never come back from this. He had stepped too far, and they had made him pay. His dues, as they would tell him, dues that he didn’t truly deserve. There was a clicking from nowhere, and behind him he felt an Angel’s presence. He spun around with hope, and - “She’s dead,” the Archangel Gabriel said, smiling softly. “You won’t be seeing her down there.” He tried to hide his sorrow, but he could not help but admit to himself that he had wanted to see her. Just one last time. Perhaps make her see his way in the end; to have her agree with him was all he now wanted. “Should have known it was you. Too strong.” Gabriel continued smiling steadily. Then they brightened up, opening the door a little wider and beckoning him inside. He followed, as he must have. Even if he had wanted to, in front of this being, there was no disobedience. He knew that, especially in his new position. Gabriel’s shoes clacked loudly as they walked down, and they now grinned widely at him, seeing that he had noticed. “Like them? They’re tap shoes. Thought I might wear them for a. . . special occasion.” He didn’t like them. In fact, he hated them and thought them of bad taste. But not much of that crossed his mind right then, because the door to the Abyss was coming up. He stepped inside the pressing, overwhelming darkness that his love had been in not too long ago; that he had put her in; and took a deep breath. Not that he needed to. “You’ll die here, then, and we’ll be rid of you. You did provide very interesting results, you know.” Gabriel giggled. “But the things you did to get them were so terrible that I can’t even thank you for making my job more entertaining. “Bye, Kage.” And the door was shut behind his back./
