(I can't decide who to put against Apollo, because Valkyrie, who is supposed to be the fighter's partner, turns into a shield. And I can't think of a single hero who uses a shield. So I ask for your help.)
Alex watched with mild confusion as Brunhilde, radiating icy fury, crushed Nostradamus's hand in her grip. The searing sound of bones creaking under her hold seemed to echo in the room, making Alex inwardly flinch. He had never seen her so enraged—it was both terrifying and oddly captivating.
Brunhilde seemed intent on tearing her outfit off the prophet, but this gave Nostradamus a chance to slip free from her iron grip. He leapt to a safe distance and immediately changed his attire, reverting to his usual Renaissance-style clothing. Now he was dressed in a white shirt with a deep neckline, short breeches, tall stockings, and shoes. His curly blond hair and feminine face gave him a strange mix of elegance and absurdity.
Alex and Göll exchanged bewildered glances, both wearing identical expressions of disbelief. Alex barely held back laughter, recalling a joke from his past life: «If a guy looks cute in women's clothes, does it really matter what gender he is?»
But Brunhilde, clutching her stolen outfit, was clearly not in the mood for humor. Her face was shadowed by rage as she pointed an accusatory finger at Nostradamus.
«What are you doing with my clothes, Nostradamus?» she demanded, her tone more threatening than questioning.
Nostradamus, seemingly unfazed by her anger, adjusted his shirt with a graceful smile and straightened his posture.
«Allow me to deliver a prophecy!» he declared dramatically, as if he had full control of the situation.
Raising an eyebrow, Alex glanced at the «brilliant» prophet, who was clearly trying to change the subject. His gaze shifted to Göll and Brunhilde, who, for some reason, seemed willing to hear Nostradamus out. Alex rolled his eyes, exasperated by how easily they fell for his ploy.
«The victors of Ragnarok will be... the gods!» Nostradamus proclaimed with theatrical flair, thrusting his hand forward as though he were a great seer.
Göll gasped, while Brunhilde frowned, her expression tense as she processed his words. Alex, meanwhile, buried his face in his hand.
«Are you saying humanity will lose?!» Göll exclaimed indignantly, staring at the prophet with wide eyes.
Alex almost burst out laughing. If that prophecy were true, he'd probably consider ending himself with a foam dart; letting humanity lose while he was present would be a disgrace.
Nostradamus couldn't hold it in any longer and erupted into laughter, finally revealing the joke. Göll immediately grew furious, tugging at Brunhilde's arm and demanding they kick the prophet out. Brunhilde remained silent, her icy gaze fixed on Nostradamus, but she didn't object to her younger sister's outburst.
Meanwhile, Nostradamus had already made himself comfortable on a table, swinging his legs like a pleased child. Alex stepped closer to Brunhilde, tilting his head as he looked at her.
«Hey, Bree, should I teach him a lesson and beat him with a stick?» he asked, his tone weary as he glanced at the prophet, who seemed to think he owned the place.
Brunhilde shot Alex a brief look, clearly torn between agreement and a desire to avoid escalating the chaos.
Göll eagerly supported Alex's suggestion to beat the prophet with a stick. Brunhilde frowned, glancing between Alex and Nostradamus as if weighing the idea. During this time, Nostradamus finally turned his attention to Alex and stared at him intently. Their eyes met, but the prophet saw nothing in Alex's gaze—it was as if he were looking at a blank slate.
Nostradamus, renowned for his ability to see people's destinies, was thrown off; he couldn't discern even a hint of Alex's future, as though it were hidden behind an impenetrable veil. However, Alex, unaware of the prophet's thoughts, didn't care. His path was clear, and he saw no point in worrying about such trivialities.
«I think it's unnecessary. The man before us might be the most insufferable in human history,» Brunhilde finally said, abandoning the idea of beating Nostradamus.
Alex merely shrugged, outwardly accepting her words, but mentally kept the option in reserve in case Nostradamus started irritating everyone again. Brunhilde let out a heavy sigh, casting a glance at the prophet, who had already sprawled on the table in a relaxed pose.
«And more importantly, he's incredibly strong,» she added irritably, pressing her fingers to her temples.
Göll looked at her sister in surprise, then at Nostradamus. Her expression was full of disbelief.
«What? This pervert who stole your clothes could be strong? That's hard to believe,» she said, frowning skeptically.
Brunhilde didn't respond, but her icy glare directed at Nostradamus made it clear she was still furious. The prophet, however, seemed entirely oblivious to her anger. His attention was entirely fixed on Alex.
For Nostradamus, this was a new experience—encountering someone he couldn't see through. His curiosity grew as he tried to discern Alex's essence, losing himself in thought.
«Hey, I get it, but if you pull something like this again, I'll gladly cross you off the list of fighters and send you back to Helheim,» Brunhilde said sharply, snapping the prophet out of his musings.
Her words immediately pulled Nostradamus back to reality. He stared at her with a look of childlike indignation. His face contorted as he began to shed theatrical tears, wiping them away with a lace handkerchief.
«How could you do this to me, Brunie? Those monsters in Helheim tormented my soul, mocked me, and gave me no respite. Don't send me back there!» he sobbed like a scolded child.
Hearing Nostradamus's dramatic weeping, Alex pondered whether he should hand the prophet an Oscar for such a brilliant performance. Even Dostoevsky himself might have believed such mastery, Alex mused with a smirk.
Without much thought, Alex walked over to the prophet and stood over him. Nostradamus immediately stopped his sobbing, raising his gaze to the man now towering above him. Alex reached into his inventory and pulled out a golden statuette.
The two Valkyries stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was planning to do. With a casual wave of the statuette, Alex extended it toward Nostradamus.
«Your performance was simply outstanding. I almost believed you. Take your Oscar and wrap up this circus,» Alex said sarcastically as he handed over the statuette.
Nostradamus, stunned by the gesture, fell silent for a moment, clutching the award tightly in his hands.
He glanced between Alex and the golden Oscar in his grip, bewildered. Brunhilde, observing the scene, couldn't help but recall Rebecca's words about learning to live with Alex's quirks. This was yet another of his antics—seriously presenting the prophet with an award for his «acting skills,» claiming they were impressive enough to deserve the honor.
Göll, meanwhile, was trying to comprehend what was happening. First, Nostradamus had stolen Brunhilde's clothes. Then he received a threat of being sent back to Helheim, started crying to gain sympathy, and now Alex had rewarded him with a golden statuette. Confirming to herself that this wasn't some strange dream, she slowly shook her head, watching the spectacle unfold.
Nostradamus, now on his feet, clutched the statuette to his chest and began a grandiose speech.
«Thank you for this wonderful gift! Without you, my dear audience, I could never have reached such heights!» His voice trembled with «emotion,» and he gave deep bows to imaginary spectators.
Alex smirked and started clapping, as if genuinely impressed by the theatrical performance.
«Bravo! I almost believed it!» he said, genuinely amused by the unfolding drama.
Brunhilde, her face now resembling a granite statue, attempted to bring everyone back to reality.
«Are you done with your little performance?» she asked, her voice as cold as the northern wind.
Alex noticed her state and immediately stepped in to calm her down. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and began gently massaging them, trying to ease the tension. Brunhilde, feeling his touch, relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained firm, fixed on the prophet, who seemed to find the entire situation endlessly amusing.
Göll, seeing how effortlessly Alex managed to soothe her sister, gave him an approving thumbs-up. She had no idea, however, that Alex was quite experienced in calming angry women, especially those infuriated by his own antics.
«And stop pretending, Nostradamus. If Helheim were truly so terrible, you would have escaped long ago, killing all the guards in the process,» Brunhilde said coldly.
Nostradamus tucked the statuette into his pocket, leaving only the golden Oscar head sticking out. His face lit up with a sly grin, reminding Alex of a certain gremlin who always found a way to cause trouble.
«Alright, I'll admit, there's something... captivating about Helheim. It's just impossible to leave that place for good!» he declared cheerfully.
Göll, startled by his words, gave him a suspicious look before turning to Brunhilde.
«Wait, sister. He's human. How could he have ended up in Helheim?» she asked, her voice filled with confusion.
Brunhilde looked at Göll with a serious expression. Alex, meanwhile, barely paid attention to the conversation, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. He recalled the legends of Nostradamus, who had managed to irritate practically everyone—from gods to the underworld—all in the name of curiosity.
«He was banished to Helheim for breaking one of the gods' primary taboos. As punishment, he was sent to its deepest parts,» Brunhilde explained with icy calm.
Her words made Göll pause in thought, while Alex, noticing Nostradamus's smug smile returning, quietly chuckled, realizing this man had no intention of changing.
Göll stared at Nostradamus in amazement as he proudly pulled a silly face, clearly pleased with himself. Alex couldn't help but wonder what could have driven the prophet to break a divine taboo. If he were in Nostradamus's place, he might have done the same thing—just to see what would happen and to witness the gods' reactions.
Alex even remembered a similar prank he'd pulled in Night City, hacking into Arasaka's network and uploading a massive message honoring the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Though it was on a much smaller scale, it had still brought him plenty of joy.
While the idea of inviting Nostradamus to partake in such mischievous schemes amused Alex, he quickly dismissed it. The prophet seemed far too chaotic—even by his standards.
«Oh, you're exaggerating, Brunie. That was nothing for me,» Nostradamus said with a completely carefree expression.
«Breaking a taboo? What did he do that got him banished to Helheim?» Göll asked in alarm, turning to Brunhilde.
«This idiot destroyed the Bifrost. That's why he was banished,» Alex replied dryly.
At those words, all three—Brunhilde, Nostradamus, and Göll—turned to him. Brunhilde, by now accustomed to Alex knowing everything about everyone, wasn't surprised. Göll, however, grew even paler, stunned by what she had just heard.
Nostradamus, on the other hand, looked at Alex with newfound interest, clearly trying to figure out how he knew the truth. The insult didn't even bother the prophet—he was far more intrigued by the mystery Alex seemed to be hiding.
Alex, looking at Nostradamus, tried to remember what the Bifrost actually was. His memory flashed with the image of a rainbow bridge connecting three worlds: Valhalla, Midgard, and Helheim. Only the highest gods, like Odin, Zeus, or Hades, were allowed to use it.
«Pretty boy's right,» Nostradamus confirmed nonchalantly. «But unfortunately, I didn't manage to destroy the entire Bifrost,» he added with a feigned regret.
«You... destroyed the Bifrost? But why?» Göll forced out, clearly shaken.
«Why 'why'? I was just curious to see what would happen if it got destroyed. I'm one of those people who can't sleep until I finish what I've started,» the prophet said, smiling like a child pleased with his mischief.
Alex watched Nostradamus closely. His logic, though insane, somewhat mirrored his own. He also believed that once you decide to do something, you should see it through to the end. But now, he was curious—what would happen if the Bifrost were destroyed completely? Stroking his chin, Alex began to think about how to pull it off unnoticed, before anyone found out.
Brunhilde immediately caught his thoughtful gaze.
«No!» she said firmly.
«But I haven't done anything yet,» Alex said, surprised.
«Exactly why I'm saying 'no.' I don't need any more problems because of your insane ideas,» Brunhilde retorted in a stern tone.
Alex was taken aback. He was unsettled by how quickly she shut down his plans, even before he could voice them. He immediately suspected that Rebecca had probably said something about his antics. Göll, moving closer, quietly asked,
«What are you planning?»
«I was going to destroy the Bifrost to see what would happen if the rainbow bridge was completely destroyed,» Alex admitted honestly.
Göll turned even paler and didn't know how to respond. Brunhilde, on the other hand, sighed in satisfaction, realizing that her intuition hadn't failed her. She had come to understand Alex so well that she could predict his plans before he even started to act on them.
Meanwhile, Nostradamus burst into laughter, encouraging Alex,
«When you do it, I'll get you a spot in Helheim, right next to me. We'll have a blast spending eternity together!» he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.
Alex gave him a dry look.
«No thanks. I'd prefer Brunhilde's company. I'm definitely not spending eternity with you,» he replied coldly.
Alex then demonstratively wrapped his arm around Brunhilde's waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Göll, embarrassed, covered her face with her hands but still sneaked peeks at the scene through the gaps between her fingers. Brunhilde remained outwardly calm, only glancing briefly at Alex. However, inside, she felt a warm joy from his closeness. Alex had become more to her than just an ally.
Nostradamus, ignoring their closeness, shrugged and smirked.
«We'll still meet in Helheim if you destroy the Bifrost.»
«And now answer my original question, Nostradamus,» Brunhilde said, leaning slightly back against Alex. «Why are you here?»
«Well, what a boring question!» the prophet answered cheerfully, swinging his legs like a child. «I just wanted to know when my turn is! I'm waiting for my moment to shine.»
Alex observed Nostradamus' behavior, once again confirming that the man's mind was a complete chaos. This type of person irritated him the most—one whose actions were impossible to predict.
«Not for a while,» Brunhilde said thoughtfully. «You're our trump card.»
Alex grimaced but didn't argue. He understood that Nostradamus' help might not be needed—there were only four battles left to win, and victory would be close. They needed to defeat Hades, Beelzebub, and two others to reach the true instigator of Ragnarok. Göll looked at Nostradamus with concern, shocked that he was their «trump card.» Then her gaze shifted to Alex. His calm, unreadable face made her feel that even he acknowledged the prophet's power.
Alex's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Brunhilde's tablet signaling. He lowered his gaze and saw the name of the next fighter representing the gods. A slight smirk appeared on Alex's face, while Brunhilde's expression became stern.
«The King of the Dead,» Alex murmured, almost savoring the sound of the name.
Göll turned pale, realizing that Hades—the lord of the underworld and the older brother of Zeus and Poseidon—would be participating in the next battle.
«Wow!» Nostradamus perked up. «Hades himself decided to flex his muscles! I wonder what it'll be like to fight him...»
«Sister, what are we going to do?!» Göll panicked, turning to Brunhilde. «Where are we going to find a fighter who can stand up to Hades? We don't stand a chance!»
Brunhilde sighed heavily, noticing how Göll and Nostradamus had practically clung to her, making it hard to respond properly. Alex, still holding Brunhilde at the waist, gazed intently at the tablet screen, contemplating who might be able to face Hades.
It seemed like Qin Shi Huangdi was a decent fighter, but Alex wanted Hades' spear for his collection, so he was thinking about who to send instead of the First Emperor of China. But deep down, he had already claimed Hades' spear and was now considering an alternative.
When Brunhilde finally freed herself from Göll and Nostradamus' grasp, she noticed that Alex was deep in thought.
«Brother,» Göll asked cautiously, «do you have a friend who could stand up to Hades?»
Her words made Brunhilde pause. Alex had already brought two fighters who had won without a single scratch, which was impressive in itself.
«What did you say?» Alex asked, pulling himself out of his thoughts.
«I asked if you have a friend who could defeat Hades?» Göll repeated, looking at him with hope.
Alex smiled slightly, understanding that this battle would not only be a challenge but an opportunity to add something valuable to his collection.
Alex knew there was no time to waste—he needed to make a decision immediately. If he missed the opportunity, Hades' spear would slip out of his reach, and then his collection of divine weapons would be incomplete.
Brunhilde patiently waited for Alex to announce his choice, though deep down, she had already decided who to send if he didn't suggest a worthy candidate. Nostradamus, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his interest, carefully watching every move Alex made, as if trying to predict his next step.
After a brief moment of thought, Alex gave a mental signal to his clone to change its appearance to the pre-selected one.
«Yes, I have a candidate,» Alex said, thoughtfully stroking his chin. «Though he's running a bit late.»
Brunhilde looked at him with a narrowed gaze.
«Did you already decide to send your fighter without consulting me?» Her tone was dry, but there was a hint of hurt in her eyes.
Alex didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gently turned her toward him, pulling her into an embrace so their faces were almost touching. He lightly pressed his forehead against hers, as if trying to close the distance even more.
Göll and Nostradamus watched the scene, covering their faces with their hands, but soon began peeking through the gaps between their fingers.
«Maybe I just foresaw that there would be a serious opponent in the seventh battle, so I invited an old friend in advance?» Alex said with a sly squint, looking into Brunhilde's emerald eyes.
Their faces were so close that their noses almost touched. Brunhilde looked at Alex, trying to understand what motives drove him. She saw something more than simple confidence in his eyes. Her suspicion was confirmed almost immediately.
«You're doing this just for the trophy?» Her voice became a little softer, but it carried a note of reproach.
«No, no, what are you talking about! It's all for the victory of humanity,» Alex said, putting on a serious expression, though a barely noticeable trace of mockery slipped into his voice.
Brunhilde rolled her eyes, realizing that Alex was lying. His feigned sincerity only reinforced her suspicion that there were personal interests behind this choice—specifically, the desire to get Hades' spear.
«Alright then, where's your friend, if he's supposed to fight?» she asked, looking away from his face.
«He should appear... right now,» Alex said, pointing toward the door.
Everyone turned toward the door at once. But nothing happened. The only sound that broke the silence was the caw of a crow from somewhere outside. Alex's eye started twitching nervously.
«Right now,» he repeated, raising his voice slightly.
The door remained closed. Nostradamus burst out laughing, pointing at Alex.
«Well, you definitely won't be a prophet!»
Alex's face began to show black lines of irritation as he prepared to mentally scold his clone. And then, suddenly, the door began to slowly open.
«Sorry, I got a bit lost in this maze and couldn't find the right door right away,» a deep voice sounded.
A tall man with long black hair, reaching down to his waist, appeared in the doorway. It was Hashirama Senju—a tall man with tanned skin and dark eyes. His black hair was split down the middle, framing his face. He wore the standard shinobi attire of his time, consisting of a simple black suit and sandals. Hashirama wore an apologetic smile on his face. This was the appearance that Alex had specifically chosen for his clone. His presence immediately caught everyone's attention.
«Sorry, my old friend was delayed. These corridors are a real puzzle,» Hashirama said with an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his head.
He was dressed in a black shinobi suit from his time, which accentuated his stately figure, and his warm voice and charisma immediately softened the initial tension.
Alex, with a satisfied expression, stepped back a bit, clearly enjoying the effect he had created.
«Well then, can we discuss my candidacy now?» he said, casting a brief glance at Brunhilde, whose face showed a mix of relief and irritation.
Brunhilde studied the newcomer carefully, trying to figure out who he could be. Göll examined him with genuine interest, trying to catch any hint of his identity. Nostradamus, on the other hand, turned away indifferently, deeming the stranger uninteresting to him. His attention was fully focused on Alex and his secrets.
Meanwhile, Alex released Brunhilde and decided to put on a little performance to divert attention and conceal his true intentions. Approaching «Hashirama» with a friendly smile, he extended his hand.
«You're just like always, my old friend. Always managing to get lost,» Alex said with a slight mocking tone.
«Haha, well, who's to blame that the architects of this place love to create labyrinths?» «Hashirama» replied, flashing a friendly grin.
They embraced like two old comrades reunited after a long separation. Every detail was carefully planned so that no one would suspect anything was off. Brunhilde and Göll watched the scene, exchanging glances, while Nostradamus merely snorted, not hiding his skepticism.
«Alex, don't you want to introduce us to your friend?» Brunhilde finally spoke up, drawing attention back to the situation.
Alex quickly broke the embrace, feeling awkward. Internally, he already regretted the moment, as hugging essentially himself, albeit in a different form, felt strange and even a little eerie. Adjusting his clothes, he placed a hand on «Hashirama's» shoulder.
«Let me introduce my friend. This is Hashirama Senju, the legendary shinobi. Like Might Guy, he's also a shinobi, but the difference is that he was the one who started the era of the shinobi villages, and for that, he was called the 'God of Shinobi.' Not just for his charisma, which made people follow him, but also for his strength,» Alex said proudly, giving «Hashirama» a pat on the shoulder.
«Wow, Might Guy was here too? Why didn't you invite me sooner?» «Hashirama» asked, playing along with Alex.
«Because...» Alex just smiled mysteriously, not wanting to go into detail.
Göll's eyes sparkled with excitement—meeting another shinobi, especially such a legendary one, was a real event for her. Brunhilde, however, watched the newcomer cautiously. The thought that the «great» Hashirama had gotten lost in the Colosseum seemed odd to her. However, she quickly dismissed her doubts, remembering that Alex's previous fighters also had their quirks but still turned out to be incredibly strong.
«Let's say he's strong,» she said thoughtfully. «But are you sure he can defeat f?»
«Young lady, you needn't worry! It will be done perfectly!» «Hashirama» laughed loudly, causing Alex some mild annoyance at the clone's excessive enthusiasm.
Brunhilde silently nodded, turning back to Alex. Now, it was only a matter of waiting for the valkyrie, who would partner with «Hashirama» in the upcoming battle. Meanwhile, Alex was already mentally drifting into fantasies about trophies and glory.
His thoughts revolved around Hades' weapon, which was about to join his collection. But most of all, Alex was looking forward to the fight itself. Hades certainly wouldn't expect what the «God of Shinobi» would bring. The real pleasure would come when «Hashirama» activated the «Wood Style» technique and summoned a giant wooden statue with a thousand hands.
«I'll definitely have to call GIR to record everything,» Alex muttered to himself, anticipating the moment when the spectators would see what true shinobi techniques looked like.
To be continued...