I hovered there for who knows how long.
The stairwells around me all turned white-hot from simply being in the presence of that plasmic flare. The heat caused them to lose their ability to stay intact, and so they dripped down like humans exposed to the sun.
Several flights of stairs were melted away. The walls themselves sludge down like molten flesh while I was surrounded by a veil of steam coming from the vaporized water held within the human body.
I hovered there, still, not moving a single muscle.
In my mind, I played back again and again to that man's last moment. That look of peace, of acceptance, of resignation before a light too bright to look at colored everything white, and then...
Not a single trace of him left. Or rather, all that was left of that young man who looked like he had a bright future was the thick steam that surrounded me.
The steam was so hot that had I remained a human I would've gained third-degree burn from less than a second of exposure.
Yet as Kukulkan, I was indifferent. I was entirely unaffected, untouched by the steadily cooling steam.
"I killed a man," I stated, my voice distorted by the hot steam.
"I killed an innocent man," I repeated as though confessing my sin to an invisible bishop.
Why did he let me kill him? He clearly was still alright if missing any workable legs. He clearly was still human.
I looked down and stared at my body. The large breast covered much of my stomach as my legs rose above those giant mounts.
If I had better control over my powers... none of this would've happened.
I replayed the hostage situation in my mind again. I imagined myself forming a ball of plasma inside the fusion of multiple humans, turning it into ash before I took off with the guy. I imagined myself leaping above the masses of molten flesh, where just as I reached the arc of my leap, I'd form a platform behind me before kicking on it, turning me into a kinetic missile that'd go through anything in my path.
I imagined about a dozen more potential solutions to that scenario before stopping. By now, the temperature of the steam was only hot enough to give a human second-degree burns with a single second of contact, and the walls around me had cooled down into a reddish-orange.
Those were nice fantasies—dreams of a what-if. Phantasms of a potentiality now passed.
They weren't real. As much as I wished they could be real... they weren't.
I must face the present and future instead of dwelling on what could've been.
I resolved myself to master my powers fully. I resolved to be better, to become a savior like none other so that what just happened may never happen again in the future.
I closed my eyes and reactivated We Are The Winged Serpent again. That personal skill of mine which grants me temporary lordship over Quetzalcoatl's Divine Authorities had deactivated after a period of passivity,
Once again, colors seeped away as I received information on the position of every single air molecule in this building. Those swirling bunches of particles that behaved just like a liquid flowed everywhere, into every nook and cranny, so long as the space wasn't already occupied.
Formless, the gas tries to take the shape of its container. I looked for volumes of vacuum that looked like humans.
36...
I now counted 36 humans inside the building.
Not counting the one I... mercy killed, one more is missing because they've been turned.
While I was wallowing in doubt and self-reflection, while I was pondering the alternative endings to the hostage situation had I done things differently, these meat things found one of the humans inside a locked washroom and dragged them into the light.
"..."
Ah... I brushed my hand over my head, I guess there's a time and place for self-reflection. Now isn't the time.
Now's the time to save people.
Before I could feel guilty, I flew up, going right through the many flights of stairs as though they were air. The hot steam grew cooler as I got away from where the plasma had been released.
Finally, I reached the floor where the BBC studio was, near the topmost floor. Even with this metal door in the way, I could clearly hear multiple voices belonging to corrupted humans, begging to be let in, begging those who barricaded inside to come out into the light, calling out their names, using personal facts that only close friends and family members would know to further entice them to come out.
In between these psychological attacks were more banging.
I don't blame people for taking the easy way out under such circumstances. If my parents were mutated and were begging me to join them, using all the personal secrets they knew, pleading to me to join them in this corrupted mess...
I could very easily imagine myself aiming a gun at my head and pulling the trigger.
Pushing open the door, I saw myself entering a long hallway with one end filled to the brim with these things. I was in the center of an 'H'-style hallway, where large masses of these things accumulated on the intersection between two hallways.
They looked like snow piles you'd find on the edge of parking lots in winter, only instead of pure or dirty white, they're dyed crimson by the sun from outside.
I charged towards them. With a single sideways kick, I carved out a large chunk of humans from these masses and threw them into a window nearby, shattering it as the pieces went flying.
It was like someone digging a spoon through a tub of ice cream.
That molten flesh tried to reform and mount a counterattack. They screamed and screeched and pleaded with the people inside, telling of how 'Goddess is killing them'.
I don't bother trying to use plasma here. The drywall is too flammable, and I don't yet trust my control over such a violent and energetic substance. I was lucky the stairwells had no flammable materials, if I carelessly unleashed that same attack I may just very well burn this building down inadvertently.
Instead... I briefly eyed the two sides of me. The side hallway of the 'H' was flanked by windows stretching from the floor to the ceiling on two ends. One of them was broken when I kicked a piece of the flesh out.
I took control of the air currents flowing around the building. Then, with a single thought, a current of tornado-force winds blew into the corridor.
My hair went wild. The cries of the human fusion were drowned out by the howls of the wind.
The remaining panel of glass on the other end shattered as the fist of wind smashed into it.
The mass of dozens of humans grabbed onto all the leverage they could when they were picked up by the wind. They grabbed onto a red fire alarm. They grabbed onto the sides of the barricaded door. They grabbed onto the sides of the hallway I originated from.
A single kick was all that was needed.
And so I sent them out of the building with a roundhouse kick, a vapor cone formed on the tip of my feet as it momentarily breached the sound barrier.
The current of tornado-force wind ceased to exist. The sound of the wind howling grew quieter, yet never disappeared as there was now a slight current coming from one end of this hallway to the other.
I gazed at the door to the studio.
Though it was made out of metal, it looked heavily damaged as scratch marks and indents filled the whole thing.
The door looked like it had tumbled down a mountain.
Knocking on it, I leaned into the gap and said to the people inside, "Hey, it's safe now. I got rid of those things."
Now I waited for a response. Without the molten humans clouding everything, I could hear the 34 people inside discussing what to do and whether or not to trust me.
"What if it's a trap?"
"How can we trust it?"
"Perhaps God sent one of His Angels to save us from the Rapture."
"Oh my god, Bethany, could you shut it with your religious talks."
The discussion continued with not much progress. I could hear the people inside growing more and more agitated based on their tone of voice.
Who could blame them?
"The broadcast told us not to trust anyone."
The apocalypse just happened, and they're probably scared, confused, and desperate. It certainly wasn't helped by the SCP Foundation's broadcast detailing how you shouldn't trust whoever is trying to get inside.
In such a circumstance, humans tend to revert back to their more primal instincts, the same instincts that helped our ancestors survive for so long.
I hear shouting now.
Even a child can see how this would soon escalate into a fistfight, and that's something no one wants. So I knocked on the door once again.
"Hey listen, I don't know how much food and water you have in there but let's face it, you can't stay in there forever. I'm setting up a refugee camp underground and I'm here to invite you guys to come with me."
There was silence, and then a deep, authoritative voice spoke up, "How are you not melted by the sunlight?"
I blinked. Once, twice, then thrice.
Of course, I slapped my forehead. Of course, these people would be more curious about how I'm untouched by the sunlight when everyone else has been melted into puddles of flesh who are still alive.
It makes logical sense.
So then, how do I respond? I can't just say how I was contracted by the Company. These people won't accept that because honestly, compared to When Day Breaks, my being an agent of a multiversal slaver company sounds less realistic. Potentially more hazardous should they actually believe me since last time I checked, America fought a war— multiple wars— against slavery and for the emancipation of all.
"I'm a Goddess."
I decided to be honest, "I'm not touched by the corrupted sun because I'm more than human."
It's... technically correct, just not fully. While I am a Goddess, there's more to my divinity than meets the eye.
There was more muttering amongst the group. Chattering. Mumbling. Some raised doubt while others wanted to believe me.
"See! God sent an Angel to take us into heaven."
"Bethany, whoever's outside just called herself a 'Goddess'. Not an Angel, a Goddess."
There was even more back and forth as the humans started talking about Theology. Theology! Of all things, they're debating my claims of being a Goddess.
In the middle of fucking When Day Breaks. Again, shouldn't they be more worried about the sunlight?
The debates were getting heated as 'Bethany' called me a 'heathen' and declared me guilty of blasphemy and witchcraft. She didn't believe my claim of being a Goddess. Another much younger-sounding person called me a 'supervillain with a god complex'.
I hung my head like a church bell.
Can't exactly blame them for their irrationality, nor could I blame them for their accusations. I'm also guilty of being irrational in an intense situation, calling back to something familiar, be it superheroes, or faith, was simply an attempt to control an unmanageable situation.
Such is the hold of fear on the human psyche.
I stopped as I heard the slobbering sound of those flesh monsters crawling out of another flight of stairs. The emergency door that I exited from clicked open, revealing a mass of molten flesh and limbs and white steam.
"Goddess... join us..."
Those people inside stopped talking once they heard the title those things called me by.
"Goddess... with you we would be perfect..."
I faced it. Wow, these things are persistent in their attempts at making me listen to them. I destroyed half of the stairs on one side and these things still got up here.
Calling to those barricaded inside the studio, I announced my intention, "A new bundle of flesh has come. I'll deal with it, but when I return, I fully expect the barricade to be removed and you all to stand near the wall when I enter."
The moment I finished, I flew towards the large amorphous mass containing several human heads.
I pushed the thing back into the emergency exit stairwell, slamming the thing against the walls.
I moved so quickly that I severed the mass of molten meat into two, with one part in my hands and the other by the doorway.
This doesn't feel right.
The thing retained a more liquid consistency. Looking down at my hands, I could see clearly how the mass of meat was leaking through the gaps between my fingers, tiny waterfalls of liquid-like flesh dripping down to the ground underneath me.
Physical force is less effective.
These things are annoyingly adaptive.
I crushed it with such force it exploded.
Right in my face.
"..."
At least none went in my mouth.
I then spun around on an axis and kicked the remaining pieces, splattering them all against the stairs. Everything was painted the same color as the waxy, glossy flesh. Brute force still works, just less effective.
Nonetheless, after dealing with this, I was disgusted with the feeling of the flesh inside my hair. However, I reminded myself that saving those 34 people was more important.
So strolling up to the banged-up door, I knocked again.
"The new bundle has been dealt with. Now has the barricade been removed?"
"What's your name? You can't simply be called 'Goddess'." That same authoritative voice as before asked.
Should I tell them? I don't know if any of them know of Mayan mythology so wouldn't it be better if I made up a name?
"... I'm Kukulkan"
There was a brief silence, before one asked, "You're a member of the KKK?"
"—?!"
What.
My jaws dropped. If I were a computer, I'd have crashed. Bluescreened. Not yet bricked but getting there. And are now attempting to reboot.
"I'm sorry, what?" My mind finished its rebooting process after a few seconds of stunned silence.
"You introduced yourself with their name, Ku Klux Klan."
"..."
I blinked several times as I ran their logic through my mind.
I guess if you've never heard of the name of such a deity you'd think I'd be referring to something more familiar. Especially since the name of the deity in question does sound really similar if you say Ku Klux Klan really quickly.
Still, a tiny amount of anger raged inside me even when I could see it from the other's perspective.
"No! My name is Ku-CULL-KHAN. Not Ku Klux Klan just spoke really quickly." I shake my head to clear my mind before knocking on the door again, "Now open up, I'm here to get you to a safehouse in Queens."
"And how would you do that?"
Only now did I realize how strange it was, me talking to a door and it replying back.
"I have a personal dimension of mine that I can store stuff in. The time inside that pocket dimension is stopped, so when I'm transporting you, in your perspective, zero time would have passed."
The people inside started chattering amongst themselves again.
Now I'm beginning to feel annoyed. I know they don't trust me, so they're asking questions to ensure their own safety, but it almost feels like these people inside are just intentionally stalling things out. There was this particular guy who was raising doubts about the physics of time-stopping.
I don't have time for this... not when the others in the buildings are at risk.
I already missed one.
Letting out a sigh loud enough audible to those on the other side of the door, I gave them information on what was going to happen.
"Alright listen, there are still survivors in the building. One's most hidden within locked bathrooms and one inside a halted elevator. I'm going to go get them. When I return in less than five minutes, I expect you all to have reached a consensus. There are more people around the city that are hiding."
With that, I charged and leaped out of one of the broken floor-to-ceiling windows.
I let gravity retain its hold on me as I fell— stopping mid-air when I reached the correct floor.
Pressing my thumb against the window, I pushed it and the panel of glass shattered. A burst of wind caused most of the glass pieces to stay inside, drizzling the carpet floor with sharp shards that'll cut any foot unfortunate enough to step on them.
They looked almost like glitter as they glistened in the sun's crimson rays.
Hovering a few centimeters off the ground, I approached a closed elevator enveloped in shade. Pushing my fingers into them, I opened the thing without much trouble.
The elevator cart wasn't fully locked to this floor. A bit of it was on the lower floor with the remaining here.
"Ahhh! Don't drag me out into the sunlight!!!"
I stared at the source of that voice. Hidden beneath the floor, I saw the dude in the reflection on the wall on the other side of the elevator.
He looked kinda sleazy not gonna lie. Beyond that, the skinny guy looked like he was in his late 20s or early 30s, wearing a blue overall with all kinds of tools like screwdrivers and wrenches held in his pockets.
A technician?
"Hey hey," I softly spoke, "I'm not here to drag you into the sunlight."
Slowly, the technician peeked over the edge, and I saw his face settle into a stunned expression.
"I'm here to save you. We're gonna get out of here."
"Alright, Goddess."
My eyebrows furrowed before continuing on, "Now, here's what I'm going to do: I have a special ability that deposits things into a time-stopped pocket dimension. I'm going to place you in there, and by the time you get out, which is zero time, I'd have you placed inside a safe house I prepared."
"Alright, Goddess, whatever you say!" The guy had a dumb smile on his face.
I'm going to be honest, I'm a little bit disturbed at how easily the guy was accepting my requests.
Nevertheless, I took out my Smart Device and placed a hand on the guy's shoulder.
The guy let out a weird noise from his mouth. It almost sounded like wooden doors creaking.
"Wait! Before you deposit me into your pocket dimension, may this lowly servant know your name?"
I cringed at the level of reverence in his tone. So giving him an exasperated look, I replied, "Call me Kukulkan."
"Yes Goddess Kukulkan!"
"Just Kukulkan."
"Then please call me Stuart."
I pressed a button, and Stuart disappeared, appearing inside my pocket dimension alongside that praying druggie from before.
Inserting the Smart Device back into its special hoster, I massaged my forehead, thinking about what a rag-tag group of survivors I've amassed.
Immediately, before I could ponder more about the future, I blasted off to find the only other survivor that's locked inside a washroom.
Going outside from the same entrance I made, I flew down to ground level before entering into a Subway embedded into this structure.
The Subway itself was rather small, with only enough seats to fit ten customers. Because of the large windows at the front of the fast-food restaurant, sunlight had no problem peering in. Interestingly, it didn't mutate any of the meat or vegetables inside the sandwich bar.
Fascinating.
I moved on. I can investigate this peculiarity later. Saving people comes first.
I flew above and over the sandwich bar and into the employee's only area. The cooler was still on.
Passing by the kitchen, I entered into what's presumably the manager's office.
The place was large and spacious for a one-person office. I think I can fit a bed in here.
There was only one other door connected to this office. It's closed.
I knocked on it.
"I know you're inside there," I said in a soft tone, trying to lessen any potential fright the person must be having, "Listen, I'm unaffected by the corrupted sunlight. I'm trying to gather as many survivors as possible. I have a safe house ready."
There was no reply. But if I focus my hearing on the room, I can hear the person's heart beating very quickly.
I sighed. Looks like this last one couldn't be as easy as the last one.
"Alright, I'm going to push the door open. It will be loud. So prepare yourself."
The wood around the metal ball handle cracked as I pushed. Then, the whole handle broke and I swung the door open—
There was a flash of light.
It was a gun. A gun just fired. I didn't hear anything yet since the soundwaves hadn't traveled so far.
I could see the bullet travel, closer and closer to my head. The bullet was a golden-bronze color, and it scraped itself against my cheek before ricocheting away and embedding itself into the wall.
*Bang*
There's the sound.
I frowned and stared at the person huddling in the corner beside the toilet.
"That was rude."
It was a girl in her mid-teens. She had multiple different piercings on her lips and ears but the most striking of it all was the black mascara running down her face. She had been crying for a long time.
I then realized this girl is probably a worker here. A part-time worker still in high school. She was probably out in the freezer collecting more fresh ingredients for the sandwich bar when the Day Broke and everything had gone to hell. Then, she collected a gun probably from the manager's office before locking herself in this washroom.
The teen didn't lower her gun, continuing to aim it at my head.
I squatted down, and the girl lowered her gun, continuing to train it on my head.
I took in a deep breath and thought about how to deal with this.
"Listen. I'm not one of them. Those things outside that used to be human. I can't be turned by the sun."
The girl snarled, "What makes you so special?"
"I'm a Goddess."
The girl was surprised by that answer.
"A Goddess? You think you're immune to the sun and that makes you a Goddess?"
"That bullet did nothing."
"That—!" The girl's rebuttal died on her lips as she stared at the hole in the wall where the bullet ricocheted. Tears started to gather at the edge of her eyes, "Why did you only appear now?"
Huh?
"Why didn't you appear earlier? Why didn't you save my dad?!?"
I brushed my hair with my hand. The liquid flesh that was sprayed onto it when I crushed that chunk was long gone, having been blown away by the wind when I flew to the ground.
"Listen. I only appeared in the mortal world seconds before everything went to hell. I'm trying to save as many people as possible—"
"My dad got turned into those things because you're too late!"
I smacked my lips as I realized the problem in front of me.
This girl's father probably saved her by sacrificing himself, just like that kid's parents. Confused and alone, the girl was searching for something to blame, for someone to blame. My appearing here, with my claims of divinity and proof of godly powers made her blame me no matter how illogical that sounds.
She's way too emotional to listen to any reason.
"What do you have to say for yourself?!?!" She screamed at me.
... I really didn't think being a savior through.
"Alright, what's your name?"
"Alice."
"Alright Alice, my name is Kukulkan." I placed a hand over my chest, "I'm sorry I didn't save your father. Despite being a Goddess, I'm still alone. I can't be everywhere at once. I hope with all my heart you can forgive me. However, should you not have it in you to forgive me, how about I make it up to you with actions?"
The hand on my chest swung slowly as I offered it to her.
The girl's hostility melted away to sadness as she cried, the gun falling from her hands.
I gave her a hug, gently tapping on her back.
She grieved for her father. Through her words broken by sounds of sobbing, I could make out how her father wasn't her biological father. He left, leaving a teen mom who was all alone as her own family kicked her out. The stepfather owned this Subway apparently, and when he married her mother, he became more of a father figure than anyone else.
The girl... really loved her father. Even more than her own biological mother.
I could see how the girl was now fearing that she was alone. More than ever, she no longer has the pillar her stepfather used to be. The pillar that was holding her up.
Forgive me for this.
I slowly took out the Smart Device and with the press of a button, deposited the girl into a timeless void.
I didn't ask for her consent.
Damn it.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. That... will be a problem for the future. That will definitely be a problem in the future. People value their own bodily autonomy a lot, and I just violated her bodily autonomy.
I should probably head back to Queens. Though only minutes may have passed, I still should check whether or not the first girl woke up. Plus, it'll do some good to deposit the three people in my pocket space right now before I go back and carry those remaining 34.
With that, I took off out the door. Anything not nailed down in the Subway flew alongside with me for a bit before settling down.
Looking up at the crimson, cloudless sky, I couldn't help but mourn for the loss of blueness and the forced settlement of this unnatural aberration.
At least the water isn't infected. Though, it's really strange. I could've sworn there were clouds today before a god had bled and dripped its blood onto the sky.