As written in the personal journal of Yanni Iole.
"October [__], 20[__]
"God has lived in this world for nearly two weeks, and I sit here disgusted with myself. Two weeks, and what have I accomplished? Even with the greatest force of nature currently existing on this planet, I've accomplished nothing with it.
"These sentries are the bane of my existence. It seems that every move I make is under extreme scrutiny. They've all but declared war on me, and the shadowed one's attack on me only proves that much. Whenever I move out, the silver one, Rider, intercepts me. When I stay still, the shadowed one forces me to move. The idea was to establish a defensive front, a home field, but I've neglected the reality of the situation. This is not a castle, this is not a fortress. As powerful as God may be, if these sentries are as near-equal in strength as they seem to be, then, with their numbers, killing me would be no issue for them, and I'd have no defense.
"I have only one advantage: they can't defeat God by themselves, and 'themselves' seem to be in disagreement. The strategy of silver and shadow would be unbeatable if they would coordinate with one another, but it seems their 'strategy' was not by choice. I imagine their outward conflict is akin to my inner conflict, whether to press forward or establish defense. If I wait for them to come to an agreement, I will be at a disadvantage, instead, I must attack while they still fight among themselves.
"But that raises the problem, doesn't it? Rampage isn't the solution. This world is God's to take, as are the people, I can't destroy these things wantonly, and I especially can't force Him to do it Himself. No, the enemy must believe that they are at the advantage. They must believe that they can win. If they think otherwise, they'll retreat back to their holes like the rats they are. They must think that victory is theirs, enough that they will be willing to place everything on the line and fall one-by-one. This is the truth, the truth that has been bestowed to me by my God as His priest. The only question now is how to get this mission done, but the day is long, and the sun is still low. I can't afford to forget how little time I have.
"No, no, no. I can't allow my mortal fears to sway me. God remains ever-vigilant, and so I must as well. It is truly remarkable, God remains calm and clear-headed no matter what happens. As brutal as He can be in combat, here, He remains still, like a statue, waiting for the call of His people, and of His priest. The soft, rumbling thunder has become life to me, to the point that its absence (when it is absent) makes me anxious. Is this what they call the fear of God?
"He's truly one with nature. Even now he remains outside these thin walls, still, and at peace with the world. It reminds me of what my Teacher taught me once, before he passed. The reason Heracles has the right to be the One God is because He is the perfect union of man and nature, the one who took the power of the gods and wielded it for the good of man. This is what makes Him worthy to rule the world, and I'm reminded of it whenever a bird lands on His shoulder, or a bug crawls on His knee. Even the least of these is deserving of His power, even thinking about it moves me beyond words"
This section of the page is notably stained with what appears to be tears.
"How could anyone refuse such benevolence!? When I think of these sentries, I can't control my anger, but when I think of man's pitiful attempts to defeat him, of tanks and lead flying left and right, I can't help but be giddy. Change is near, and becomes nearer with each day, all the more reason why I can't afford to wait any longer. This game we play, it's so fruitless, so pointless. Any of them could be smashed under his foot, but their resistance persists despite that. Why do they fight? Why do they suffer? Why do they resist their salvation?
"I have to answer these questions. Then I will know the perfect strategy."
...
Yanni Iole closes his journal. Though he had made the habit of keeping a journal for many years now, for this occasion in particular he had bought a new one. He knew that, one day, when this petty conflict was over, a new religion would rule the world, and the notes of this event, as God's priest, were his responsibility to keep. He placed the notebook, which featured a holographic cover of a lion, back in his dresser. Even though there was neither the need, nor the reason to hide it, this had been his usual hiding spot when things were still normal, and the habit had no reason to die yet.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, meditating on the questions that had occurred to him as he wrote. Though a formal tactician he was certainly not, even he knew the expression 'know thy enemy', and while some solid steps had been made, there were important questions that needed to be asked, and he allowed Berserker's persistent thunder to pull him deeper into his mind.
-Until a second thought occurred.
Stopping in place to second and then third-guess his idea, he finally resolved himself and walked across the miniature living space to the world outside.
The morning light reflected blindingly off the marble colossus, but his eyes would slowly adjust to see the massive Berserker lazing quietly against a boulder. Two small birds were hopping and chirping on his shoulder. Even with his reverence, and the time they'd spent in and around the shack, or perhaps because of these things, he was always off-put by his 'God''s vacant expression. Like a machine without batteries, the usually electric glow in his eyes was dim, and his body was completely still except for a vibration that could only be felt by direct touch. This unsettling effect was only magnified by Berserker's permanently bared teeth, which made very clear how much of a danger he could truly be, if he should desire.
He made his way silently and reverently, as if afraid of waking the sleeping giant, and sat cross-legged at the colossus' feet. One of the little brown birds on his shoulder suddenly chirped and flew away, and the other soon followed, leaving Yanni alone with his god and the rumbling thunder that rolled endlessly from within the ivory colossus.
Every second that passed was another second for him to reconsider, to worry if Berserker would consider his actions heresy, but eventually he would swallow his fear, basking in the glory of the ivory, and relying on the benevolence 'God' was assumed to possess.
He bowed his head as far as his old and stiff body would allow, "God, I beseech you!"
Like a yawning lion, the thunder in the giant's body rose in volume and magnitude, his massive form creaking like shifting gravel as his eyes slowly became lit with the incredible force of life held within him. Yanni had his attention, but, as usual, his expression was blank, and gave no indication of his true thoughts.
Raising his head, he continued in his frantic wonder, "My God, I... I have a question for you if it isn't too much."
The giant remained still, the light in his eyes the only indication of his attention.
Taking it as a cue to continue, "It... it involves your years as a mortal."
The giant's eyes flashed with recognition, and his creaking, near-metallic body shifted forward until the giant was leaning over the old man. In the time they'd known each other, Yanni could say honestly that the giant was currently showing more interest than he ever had outside of combat. He could only wonder to himself whether that was a positive development.
"My God, you were the mightiest of warriors to cross this Earth. I want you to tell me, in your grand insight, why do our opponents fight? Why is it that they raise their blades against us?"
The giant's eyes softened, with what could either have been either thought or pity, and then became alight once more. In his right hand, like a flash of lightning, his axe appeared upright in his hand, before being turned and sent into the ground right next to the sitting Yanni.
He covered his face from the shower of dust and dirt, but when he turned back to his god with frightened eyes, fearing for his life, he found only an outstretched hand.
Yanni hesitated, questioning his god's intentions for the umpteenth time. Moments passed, as if the giant was testing his resolve, but finally, Yanni assured himself that his 'God' was benevolent, and tentatively placed his hand on the finger of his worship.
-
He felt the air surge and spin around him, as the surroundings began to blur and bleed black, evaporating into storm clouds that blanketed him with winds so dark and thick that even the thunderous giant seemed to drift away into nothingness. The air tore at his skin and eyes until he thought he'd be ripped apart, and then, finally, the dam broke. The wind burst around him, revealing a landscape both awe-inspiring and fear-inducing.
It was a labyrinth of thunder and lightning. An unholy, or perhaps unbearably holy, corridor of storm and sorrow. An abyss that expanded into and out of nothingness, a sea of black clouds and blue light. From the center of this prison a figure could be seen, far away. An Adonis caged in shackles of electricity. Thunder boomed each time he struggled against the chains, desperately trying to break free, his energy seeming to leave him slowly until he became still.
-And then the figure noticed him.
Even from this impossible distance, Yanni could feel the Adonis' piercing eyes, a pinpoint of blue-white light against the dark horizon. His heart, his body, the core of his being was brought to silence under the penetrating light.
-Until the panic set in.
The world began to move again as the eyes of the Adonis drew him in with unseen gravity, faster, and faster, and faster until-
They found themselves eye-to-eye.
The steely expression of the Adonis drew him in as images flashed through his mind:
- A hurricane forming over the sea.
'We fight because it's our nature.'
- A mother bear protecting her cub.
'We fight to protect what we love-'
- A warrior facing off against a massive serpent with nine heads.
'-From that which we can never understand.'
- A bonfire cremating a corpse.
'We fight because we remember.'
- A waterfall surrounded by a garden, with the clopping of hooves in the distance.
'We fight because we cannot forget.'
- A house burning down, and a man with bloodied hands.
'We fight because we've lost ourselves.'
- A ship sailing through stormy seas.
'We are the shadows of our desire, the agents of our ideals.'
Images flashed through the mind of Yanni Iole. Men and women, warriors and innocents, servants and masters, kings and their cavalry-
'We are the blood that must be shed.'
In a matter of seconds, millions were slaughtered. And the blood stained his face, and his hands, the hands of Yanni Iole, and those of the Adonis. For this moment, they were one, and all that could be heard among the cries and screams of those millions-
'We are the hands that will be stained.'
The images flashed through once again, histories coming and going, pictures oscillating back and forth between beautiful and horrific, blood and water, bones and trees, and a marble colossus leaning on his axe with silent eyes-
-Yanni was back. He stared at 'God' with silent eyes, and 'He' only stared back.
"I understand now."
Rumbling.
Yanni stood, and bowed once more, "I'll never forget your wisdom."
The colossus stared into the distance, towards the light that reflected off the towers in the far-away city, and the self-proclaimed priest followed his gaze.
"My Lord, these warriors we fight, do you consider them honorable?"
"..."
"Would you like to defeat them honorably?"
The light in the giant's eyes seemed to sharpen, as if watching closely something that could not be seen.
"As you wish."
The Mockingbirds sang farewell to the morning as the sun crested the sky.
....