The following day after Azrael's defeat at the hands of his brother, the skeleton was burnt away to ashes, Beau's fingers singing the bones to they'd bunch together. Forming into nothing but a disintegrated pile of blackened dust, the Strength rubbed his wrist, pushing his bunched hair back into a bun- the signature audio of the ice protecting his landing entering his eardrums. The flames became to contract back into his soul, the boiling heat of his blood fading away normal temperature, Johnson kneeled. Eyes glowing for a split second, a box of ice encapsulating the collection of cinders, the tips of his fingers attached to the squared frost. Standing up straight, Edmund's eyes kept their lock onto the platform beneath him as his friend talked, the chatter of their family and friends entering the air. Turning around, Beau's arms stood crossed over his center- Matt continuing to examine and inspect the icy souvenir he'd collected,
"Those guys aren't ever gonna let up, huh? What do they have against us again?"
"They're supposed to stop the attacks until next year, guess someone managed to work outside of the deadline. Money's on that Devil asshole, or maybe Morningstar,"
The Strength answered back, to which the younger Ice Manipulator nodded, now standing over August shirtless. Seated on a rock in the desert, he rubbed his throat, letting out a tired yawn before pulling down that short-sleeved tank top over his abs. Beau and Matt both slid their thumbs up as a way to congratulate their best friend, shadows dramatically shadowing the sockets of his eyes, Rivera shaking his head at the sight of his brothers-in-arms being the same amount of stupid they always were. The Reaper stood up straight, the incoming force from his sister hitting against his back in the middle of him stretching so his bones would crack- The World chuckled. His twin sister burying her face into his back, he twisted his body around her cheek could be resting against his stomach now,
"You should call us next time you have one of these problems. You might be strong, but it doesn't hurt to have help every once in a while, dumbass,"
The advice from Beau had caused Gen to nod, kicking her bro in the shin so he could wince- the sucking-in of air leading to him transforming the stinging pain into a fit of laughter. Johnson also agreed with his male ally by his side, spinning and transmogrifying the case with the dust in the middle against the end of his right pointer. Despite that confident smile, despite the comforting smile of Johnson, the encouraging words of Edmund, and the worried embrace of Genny, he could never put them in harm's way. Not ever again... he was the strongest in the multiverse, and even then, when he puts his guard down for just a moment, he falls like all the rest of them. Why- was that? Why didn't the Four Eyes sense that blade, why didn't he predict that it was going too easily? How had they'd beaten him so easily, and it was such a challenge for him. HIM.
"I'mma get some Chinese, talk to you idiots and Genny later,"
Genesis reached out as he fell out of her grip, tumbling backward, the Reaper took a few steps- Beau and Matt standing side by side turning to follow the back of his head as he passed the space between the duo of fire and ice. Seeing as how August didn't invite any of them, all he did was simply vanish, emerald bolts of lightning bouncing off parts of his skin and rearranging his molecular structure to the city some ways away. The scenery of his hand raising so the back of his palm could serve as a way to wave at her, his teleportation left a burn mark into the ground as his soles dug into the platform of the desert below him. Beau, arms crossed over his chest, turned to Matt so they could share the same shrug as it rolled off their shoulders. Closing his eyes, the Strength raised his hand so he could scratch his nape and hair, a sigh of relief beginning to exit his previously shut lips. Speaking as the quiet steps of the frost-manipulating Johnson began to pepper across the dry terrain, Beau's vocals projected out,
"Welp, since that asshat didn't wanna invite us, do you guys wanna go grab a bite? Pizza, some chicken, oh- maybe we could go to Mei and get some free sushi and sweets--"
One eye poking out, the other followed, his appendage staying attached to the back of his skull as he twisted his waist and hips so he could turn toward Gen's previous position. Chortling at the new sight he'd looked down upon, Matt had just then pulled himself back, his position over the girl immediately changing. The shorter of the two, the female, had used her brother's hood of the sweater she'd stolen to hide the blazing blush over her fat old cheeks. And the taller of the two, the male, had his head turned to the left, throwing the box-turned-ball between his hands so it'd spin through the air. Scoffing at the sight of the couple, he stepped between the two of them, enwrapping his arms around them both so they'd hunch at the sudden thud of his appendages attaching to their napes,
"So you dumbasses still get flustered whenever someone sees when you kiss? Isn't that just... stupid?"
"Like you can even go out with Nikki anymore, at least we have us, dipshit,"
"That's mean, Matty..."
The order went with Beau, Johnson, then Genesis- marching toward the sky-scraping city behind the mountains and everything... they decided to have fun as friends. August heard the bell hit against the peak of the door, hands in his pockets, he scratched the sudden itch he'd felt near the top of his throat near his chin. Searching around for any customers, he let out a dejected breath of air, exhaling sharply before the somberness of his expression began to faint. The Requiem Reaper spotting the wonderful sight of his beautiful older sister speaking with her adopted cousin behind the counter. Mei leaning on her elbow against the separator between the relatives, Emma's chin lounging upon her knuckles- and just right then and there, the corner of their eyes managed to spot their cousin. Everything seemed to go silent, the world around them fading, furniture disappearing so that only the happiness and warmth of their loving embraces would quickly fall upon him.
It was as if he'd hadn't felt this in over fifty years, the Reaper began to snake his arms around their backs- eyelids shutting over his discolored optics. August Rivera relished the feeling, the grip of their hug, their faces buried into each part of his neck... all he could think of was yesterday. That horrific sight, as Celine began to fade away with him so powerless to stop it, the unexpected stabbing as the spike entered his chest so it'd leak out the gore from the inner machinations of his fleshy organ-drenched center... was he truly so powerful? Could he truthfully be named an actual God?
"Celil... I'm sorrry. I really am..."
About an hour or two later, August and the others had gone hope, back at the Castle, inside of the meeting room with that big old table.
Ben at his usual spot at the right end of the table if you were looking from above right beside the chandelier taking a bite of the sandwich his wife had made for him, Jason tore off the front of his burger. The beef, the bread, the lettuce, the tomatoes, everything ripping off from the grip he had with his edged tusks. Feeling it slide into the flesh of his mouth, his cheeks moved as his teeth crunched up the squished bits and pieces of the fast-food treat. Where he was seated, he was to the left of his baby brother, sleeves pulled up so his ripped limbs could be shown. Veins popping out from the back of the Hunter's palm, the burger fell to the foil, the rustling of the aluminum entering the large spacious area of the chamber.
This sudden dropping of the food was abrupt and random as if Jay was awaiting one of his disgusting iconic burps, the oldest of the siblings was earned a side-eye. Originating from both of his younger siblings, his brother from the right, and his sister from right across. Raising his arms, he stuck up one hand so the middle finger could pop up at both of them. Now with everyone else, Matthew Miller had suddenly stepped out the inside of the restroom as the toilet flushed with the washing loud audio of washing away of the dirtied liquid fluids and waste sliding beyond into the pipes to the sewers. Wiping away the smelliness with the clapping of his hands, the Magician took a seat beside Madi taking a piece of her food with the chopstick he'd created. One stick composed entirely of the frosty substance of ice and another was suddenly burst into flames to switch between the differentiated temperatures. The chatter of the three family members, the Moon, the Lust, and the Fool, entered the chamber shining with the glisten of the sun's rays.
The triplets couldn't help but spare a look over at Matt, dejectedly biting some of the sushi as his teeth crunched against the pieces of fish he'd sucked into his opening. The signature burn of his best friend's flame tugged at his heart with strings composed entirely with blazing fire, Miller utilized his tongue to direct the bits of food to the right inside of his cheek. It felt weird, awkward with the odd silence, the Emperor remembered something from his son's past- the intertwined souls of Celine and August. One gradually dying soul interlocked with a healthy spirit before he vanished for those fifteen or so years, Aug was given visions of Celi around him. She could interact with his body and he'd feel it, but she'd turn invisible to anyone else that didn't have as strong a connection with her. Azazel seeing her, most likely due to him investigating her case with her experimentation and demise, rather than a personal connection like talking with her.
Nevertheless, Henry's soul was already dead by the same Miller had absorbed it into himself- that hand stained with blood as he and Ella tried to shake him out of his fading daze... Heaven likely repaired at this point, would never house the souls of those that challenged them. And Hell, none of them had any sort of personal connection or knowledge about that dimension, none of them would dare go there considering Lucifer's hatred for all of them. All they could do, that nagging feeling to see their friends again, the lost pieces of their true family. Keep moving forward, fight valiantly, and end this nightmare once and for all. A day had passed and it felt like everything had already changed, for better or worse, Madi's hand reached over to slide into his own. The Empress of Light and the Magician of Ice shared a somber look for their best friend, Ben's dark-blue eyes dead- that dream as his steamy blood splashed onto those red brick walls. The parting of thunder clouds in the night sky, all predestined to occur in the past, the future was already written.
The scattered stars had exploded into a supernova of guilt, the rain that went on had begun to stop as the sky withdrew to reveal the shine of the sky-blue firmament. Yet, through it all, though everyone had succeeded, and they'd managed to fight that despair, another Advent was arriving. In just a few short months, the universe- no... not just this universe, every universe, would alter. The blue lightning that'd be led by the Priestess he'd admired, his speedster friend, Jason's piercing glare seemed to disintegrate the burger as time went on. Shrunken bolts of lightning and electricity tearing at each part of the sandwich he'd taken a bite of, Ben simply reached out to touch his brother on the shoulder and grab his arm as it slid down. Their shared looks of sympathy and understanding seemed to lead Jason to scoff, it seemed he'd needed a motivational pep talk, someone to smack some sense into him so he could truly get the situation they'd been unknowingly thrust into. Usually, that person would be his baby brother, though, things had changed- they were no longer self-proclaimed orphans, their father was here... and all of them, the trio of siblings, knew he cared for them,
"Don't discourage, and do not forget. Your emotions matter, they always will, my oldest. However, despite this, we cannot allow these feelings to overtake our logic and reason. Our situation is dire and meaningful, lives are at stake, innocents, bystanders, the loyal subjects that believe their Emperor will protect them with his promises. If there's one thing I've learned over eons of watching, researching, and examining mankind, it's that they fear what they don't understand. When those in authority make promises they cannot keep, those beneath them, no matter what race, no matter what beliefs they have, will gather around to destroy those in power. The recent battle between the Wings of Darkness has alerted the public to a new unknown threat, that the promises regarding the coming Advent of Destruction were falsified. We should have predicted this, though Satan is a wildcard, the Embodiment of Evil and Manipulation. Everything they do has a purpose, and the recent incident is proof of that,"
After he'd appeared at the leftmost end of the table, their father had his arms behind his back, speaking at such a volume that everyone would hear. Azazel standing near that counter that Emma and Gen were leaning against the last meeting, Rose had been playing with another lone strand of hair, twisted into pigtails as it twirled around her pointer. On the outside, she'd look oblivious, rest assured, though, she was only there to get information and transmit it to Alex. Ryder took a seat beside Jason, his metal hand turning to a fist so he could slouch as he tilted his head and directed his optics toward the Guardian toward the left. With everyone gathered here, the usual missing attendants such as Emma or August would be informed of the contents of the meeting later. And now, with nothing else left to say, Uraku swiped his hand in the middle of the air. Visions projecting out of his orbs of sight to the middle of the table, the Guardian's lips parted to explain to them what'd happened over just a few hours,
"Seeing as how the battle was rather loud when it occurred outside the city, the media managed to get wind of the scenario and questioned the contents of the situation. The promises you'd given to everyone, regarding the Incarnations, the time limit until January, people are calling it a fib. If August hadn't been there training with Alexander, there is no doubt the Wings of Darkness would have been allowed to infiltrate the ranks of the City. As Satan prophesized, the Angel of Death would have used his power to incinerate and burn those bystanders so they'd turn to nothing but skeletons. Crisp and engulfed by Hellfire. Luckily enough, since my grandson was there, he managed to distract him for such a time that we were able to meet up and destroy him. Unfortunately, though I believed it to be my brother, in their twisted disgusting way, the Embodiment of Evil had sought to distract and test us. Not only that, but they likely knew the masses would be informed of the tremors that'd ruptured the ground as of August, Benjamin, and I attacked him. It was all a part of a grand scheme, the quakes of this incident will begin to echo through the tunnels of the Empire. We must be ready, prepare ourselves not only for Advent, but of rebellion from our very own subjects,"
While these members were kept within this metal chamber in the heights of the Empire, the road between the surrounding grass field lead through the mountains. The piercing skyscrapers touching the clouds, the tips of those sharpened edges entering the upper atmosphere in the sky blue of the Heavens, Rivera Manufacturing stood beside the Empire State. The very peak of this structure holding none other than the Requiem Reaper himself, in his casual attire with a dark green hoodie, the World stared down upon the state of the city. The bustling and chatter of ants beneath him living their usual happy lives... ants, so weak and measly, some innocent. Wishing just to keep living, to move forward, whether they strive for success, love, or life-long friends. What was the point of this power if he couldn't do anything with it? If he couldn't bring justice to the system, the very same corruption that'd stolen the girl he loved from him, if he couldn't prove himself truly- what purpose did he serve here? Why did he return when he could've just stood with her, remaining in the Temple so they could spend the rest of eternity forever with that girl?
The glisten of the illumination from the neon lights began to shine against his discolored pupils, the Reaper turning away. Extending out his appendage so he could stretch it out into the air, August felt the wrapping of the fabric from the hoodie ensnare itself around him. The smoothness belonging to the fur of the hood's outside surroundings, he yanked at the warmth belonging to the sweater taking one more step so he could manifest into the crowd. Tendrils and lines of emerald composing his frame, Rivera sighed... how powerless was a god, truly? In this vast darkness, the stars in space, what with laid beyond, the creatures, the Gods, the demons, the Devil... the Incarnations. Who was he in this sorry excuse of a story? What was his true... purpose?
Seated alone, his thumb and pointer squeezed together like a claw just so he could rip the rose out of the dirt. The Judgment twirled it for a second, then it stopped, then it spun once again- Amara felt spikiness of the thorns belonging to the flower prickle the tip of his finger. The cast around his leg tied against his jean, Alex dropped the rose for another to catch it before it would vanish between the blades of grass. As his head began to raise, there she was, in all of her beauty, the Hermit, the woman he loved with all his heart- Hazel, stood right then and there. Smiling down at her former lover, Adams knelt so her face could be right in front of her own, their eyes meeting as Alex opened his arms. Embracing one another tightly, The Judgment and the Hermit hugged, lips of the female against his cheek leaving a mark before it vanished into his tanned coat.
Moments later, they were seated on the field side by side, his head in her lap, moving her fingers throughout the long locks of his enduring strands. Hazel gave another kiss to her palm, hovering above his skull then planting it on the side of his head to ruffle his hair, Judgment sadly sighed. The way he was so easily thrown aside, leg-breaking as that godforsaken Angel of Death caught his limb so he'd tumble and roll into the rock. That blood he'd seen, that belonged to nobody but himself, he was the cause of that. He held no use, just to get thrown around and used as a pathetic side character. He thought himself to be the protagonist of his very own story, the resolution, and liberation he'd felt all those years ago when he was but a young boy. Just a teenager, just believing that he needed nothing because he was forcefully violated with the blood of a man he hadn't even known. Split-personalities, the lives he'd taken, the cutting of a psyche. Alexander began to stand against the platform beneath him, scratching his nape, stuttering repeatedly, tripping on his words as his vocals began to burst,
"I just don't fucking get it! Everything I've done, and every single thing I've felt, ever since goddamn Kuno decided to fucking... just fuck everything up. I was... what, 17? 18? Goddammit, it's so stupid! All bullshit. I thought I WAS SPECIAL! THAT... THAT AS LONG AS I HAD THIS BLOOD, THIS POWER, THESE ABILITIES!! THAT I DIDN'T NEED TO BE SPECIAL, THAT I DIDN'T NEED TO FEEL THAT WAY! But... But..." What more could he feel? What else could he do that would do anything, as he felt the grip, the ties, and strings of hatred grip at his heart, Alexander's chest stung with pain. A superhuman Requiem, but so what? He was so weak compared to everyone else, Ben, August, Jason, Madi, Emma, Azazel, Genesis... even his very own best friend. "The name Amara... will it ever be written down? Will I be remembered, outside of those Riveras, outside of the Karlos, what am I...? The Headmaster is the Emperor of the New World, August is the strongest creature in the multiverse. My parents sucked, pawns and chess pieces on a board where that so-called 'God' is the puppetmaster. I just... I don't know what I'm going to be, the future seems so hopeless, all I'll be is just some useless piece of trash that never mattered in this world. Fuck's sake, I should just throw myself into the sea, freeze to death if everything I'll ever be is NOTHING!!!"
That final scream had prompted Haze to jump right out of her crossed-legged position, Adams taking hold of each side of his face so she could twist his head. Tears squeezed out of each corner out the man's eyes, The Judgment sympathetically gazing into the center of her green pupils. The burden, the expectations, the whole reason this generation of stories had begun was due to him, the moment Ben had touched the boy who held his blood- the future, specific memories and parts, spread open like the clouds parting for the rain to descend upon the Empire. Alex sucked in the air from his nose, her thumbs and fingers wiping away the tears, their soft foreheads against one another. She was weak, she knew she was powerless, compared to these other gods, these Titans- she was a little girl who could turn invisible. But that never mattered to her, as long as she lived her life with HER purpose, the Hermit pecked the front of his nose. Just as he was about to bury his face into her neck, her flat palm had slapped her across the face so some split would burst out from his mouth. Eyes widened, pupils, shrinking, he turned back to spot... that look on her face. Not one of sadness or despair, rather, her eyebrows furrowed downward to point inward at the top of her eyelids,
"Don't you EVER say that to me again! NEVER! Don't you know how much you mean to me? How much you've helped me? How much I love you..? You're my best friend, the time we spent together, dating, together, and now, right now? You're the most important man in my life. I might never amount to Rose, Whitney, or even Lynn. But I care about you, I love you. I really... I really care about you. You might never live up to their expectations, but you live up to mine. You're a good person, and that's all you'll ever need. Be yourself, don't think of them, be... your own person, please,"
As his foot pushed against, soles sinking into the dirt so pebbles and pieces of rock attaching to the bottom of his boots. Lips trembling, Myers sucked in through his nostrils, huffing in sharply as his chest raised before descending to the usual size of his center. Whitney gripped his shoulder, throwing a punch right at his cheek- but just right in time, Alexander caught the blow cracking his knuckles and kneeing him right in the chin right as the Devil began to collapse to his knees. The shadow-manipulating Devil couldn't be mad, as the blood dripped out from his nostrils, Whit brushed his index and middle fingers against the gore that squished out from his bruised nose. Turning his head so the duo could eye contact could meet, Whitney stared intently into the eyes of the Judgment, his best friend, he needed to tell him right then, right THERE,
"Don't you fucking get it, Alex? How much we care about, how much you mean to me- and how special you truly are? From the second we were born, none of us are special. Our purpose is what we make our own because all of us aren't special, we all are. We were born into this world, so we have to make it all worth it... or else, what is our true worth? If we lounge around like dogs, feeling pity for the past when we could DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? Be yourself. And never say that shit, ever again. Not just for my sake, but for Rose, for Hazel. Please,"
Alex stuck out his hand to his friend, extremities stretching downward so he could take hold of his palm. The look on his face said it all, Myers stared up right into his pasty-tinted orbs, the yanking sensation as he was yanked higher, Amara wiped his eyes and sniffled, a smile curving up over his face. They were right, he didn't truly believe it, if he was going to, he'd probably do it with Rose or just on his own, maybe with August. Nevertheless, he had good friends, people he'd met when he was younger- people he was sure that'd last him his whole lifetime, no matter what. He just needed... to prove himself.
Beneath this very world, there were nonbelievers, the actions of the Empire, were... of course, controversial. Some believed the decisions he'd made to be worthy and justifiable of the people's respects- manipulating humans' wills, using the World Tree dimension to intensify the dormant Omni in every man, woman, and children's cells. Imbued within mankind thanks to the Author's will, without their consent, some believed him to be the savior of their lives. Granting them these abilities, the prayers of those believers echoed in the church, they hummed the choir of praise for the God they called; the Emperor of Time. The organ's heavenly notes entering the House of their self-proclaimed Lord and Savior, just then, the muffled yells belonging to those slaughtered as their blood splashed against the walls- the Father widened his eyes. Protecting everyone as he spread his arms behind him, the Assassin, on the other side of the door, had felt every droplet of blood splash onto the upper portion of her face. Body decomposing to nothing but chunks of gore drenching her in that delicious fluid, tongue sliding over her top lip, she dug her fingers into her palm to form a fist so the head could reappear in her hold.
Using her strength to kick in the double doors carved with the Angels and demons fighting during Heaven's Repent foretold by the Emperor when the New Era was first being constructed- those pieces of wood crushed those poor innocent church-goers. The impact and the strength she'd used to throw them with her foot digging into their backs, snapping their spines, and turning their brains to mush. The only one that remained in the world of the living was none other than the Father, himself, arms having risen to shield his face. The Priest opened only one eye, peeking out to stare... and spot her sitting down, The Assassin's legs crossed humming right on the wooden floor. As if imitating an innocent little girl, she swayed her body back and forth... left to right- and just then, as she finished humming- her eyelids slid up so she could reveal her differentiated eye colors, head's right cheek directed down into the floorboards...
"You're all nothing but plagues on this world, unforeseen consequences as a result of the tampering of the human genome. I'll ensure those damned Requiems, show them their place by reassuring them the truth of this world. There is only one race- WE SHALL TAKE BACK CONTROL AND REESTABLISH OUR DOMINANCE... one- and for all,"
To Be Continued - Mankind's Liberation. The second to last arc before Advent is beginning...