Glittering Greed (Endymion/Jericho)

[GEAR]

Higher and higher, the crystal tower grew. Veins of gold surged through the Zehirut - No, the Septuagint's body as directives even older than its taskmaster activated.

All was lost.

The only recourse was total annihilation.

Yes, it was the Judge. Nothing would be spared before it, and as Aberon's control over it faded, it blossomed like a titanic shard of death, with a roar like a thousand crumbling mountains of glass. Canyon-sized spikes burst from its surface as it grew at an alarming rate, preparing to commit to the terrible duty it had been given.

But... What was this?

Overhead, something shone brightly, like an emerald star. It vaguely registered an enormous energy signature gathering - one distinctly familiar, that should have been impossible...

Origin Law.

Reactively, it turned the entirity of its focus on the aberration, the abomination, the thing-that-could-not-be. An enormous magic circle pulsed to life across its surface, and as the hammer came crashing down, connected with its surface with a thunderous crash that sent cracks rippling across space in all directions.

It wouldn't be enough, it calculated. It would be hit. Would be damaged, but not critically. It had enough time to wipe this monster from existence, if it gathered all of its strength.

He had taken Aberon, but it mattered little. He too, was not exempt from its verdict.

Particulate gathered in the heart of the crystal behemoth - a swirling storm of biblical proportions, as it prepared to snuff the Geminion out of existence with equally overwhelming force-

"Hunt, Shurouga Sin!"​

With a sonic scream, the black form of Ze'ev's mount charged from below and behind the Septuagint as it threatened to block out the sky. The man within it curled his features into a grin, eyes alight as the G-forces pressed into him. The dark shape twisted into a black wing, bursting through magic circles that pulsed into being in its path - once, twice, thrice!

"GENESIC NOVA!"​

​

Like an enormous arrowhead, the black jet slammed into the underside of the Septuagint-

And in that moment, pinned between two unstoppable forces, even the unstoppable crystal mass could only part. James' hammer and Ze'ev's fury met one another in its heart - and everything went white.

Only six enormous wings, stretching out between the two of them, as all of creation parted, leaving James and his nemesis, balanced on the tip of infinity for the briefest of moments that seemed to stretch for a lifetime. A world of nothingness, the kind that the followers of Lasfitot had dreamt of for so long, temporarily enveloping them.



"The Sun Eater is no more."

Ze'ev raised a finger... and pointed it at James and Merida, giving him a smirk. He knew what had transpired, because of course he did.

"Good!" He laughed, spreading his arms wide.

"At last, you've become someone worthy of my time, James Steelheart! No, rather..."

The shattered space around the two collapsed, reality "healing" the wound caused by their clash, picking up the pieces around them hurriedly. The warm morning sun once again bloomed into the sky as Ze'ev paused, cocking his ear towards his machine. Around them, the burning chunks of the Septuagint - now mercifully inert, littered the once formerly prosperous town. Enormous, glittering towers of scorched, shattered crystal, like a hall of mirrors for giants.

​

"Ambriel the Dawn Breaker. That... will be your name."​

 

[Hitura Rael]

Energies and wills clashed, the world went white, and the crystal mass was no more. Opposite the Geminion stood the Shorouga Sin. James remained tense, unable to revel in the sheer awesome that the two had just accomplished together, ready to engage should the pale bastard turn his sights upon the Geminion.

For not the man... lost his mind? He laughed at a time like this, though if it weren't for the snake ready to strike in front him, James would have to in sheer relief.

James frowned as the world returned to normal, but not at reality. At Ze'ev. "Why do you keep giving me weird names? What the hell does that even mean? You're not my dad and you aren't my boyfriend. You don't have any naming rights on me. Or is that how you flirt? I never wanted your attention either."

He bit the inside of his lip, the next sentence fighting to stay inside and get out. It was a terrible bile but... Grudgingly... "Thanks... for helping. If it weren't for you we'd be dead. So... we're even enough. Unless you want to like... Step out and punch me in the face to get the anger out for what Suneater did... But if you want to do that you have to take a punch from Merida." He dare not specify where. She was likely too short to get him in the face meaningfully... And if she did get that chance she'd one hundred percent punch him in the groin with all her might and he was not about to promise him something she wouldn't deliver on.

"Either way, we're at a crossroad. We want the same thing, to save this universe. I won't ever be able to trust you not to stab me in the back, but I think we can work together to deal with any bullshit that pops up at the same time that needs addressed to prevent major disasters. Otherwise, at the very least, an agreement to stay away from each other unless necessary?" James flinched, ready to be kicked in the back of the head. Merida would definitely not be happy with the proposal of working together in a sense with her brother's killer. She'd probably let him have it later too for letting the bastard get away. But there was enough fighting, enough bloodshed, enough loss of life today. He was more scared to glance behind him than to face Ze'ev.

 

[GEAR]

As James spoke, Ze'ev regarded him with a thin lipped, wordless smile. About halfway through his rambling, the Shurouga lifted is hand - and the Discalibur materialized in its grip. Its whole body tensed, preparing to sever James' head from his body where he stood-

But...

Something caused it to freeze in place.

Not just him, either.



Around James, the world slowed to a crawl. The colors drained away, as though he were stuck in a photograph. Ze'ev's eyes went wide as saucers, and beads of sweat popped across his forehead. Whatever confidence he'd had fell away like it had never existed, as his voice came out hurried and harsh, a low whisper seemingly all to himself:

"No! NO! Not here, not now! It's not time yet-!"

With a flurry of movement. the Shurouga Sin engaged its cloak, dancing back into nothingness, its own features a mask of frustration and - for perhaps the first time - fear.

For a few moments, James and his companions were left in the eerie stillness.. and then there was a sound. A ticking, like the gentle hands of a tiny clock, working away in the background. A voice spoke, simultaneously very far away - and yet right before him.

"Aberon."​

There was a man, there. Framed against the sun. He wouldn't have looked all too out of place, in his late fifties with a worn, somewhat disheveled appearance and slouched posture... if he weren't, apparently standing on thin air.

There was something about him - an aura of sorts, that sent chills down the spine.

As if they had met before, some time, some where.



"Been a while." Said Zivon, airily.

His eyes flicked lazily to James, and he stroked his stubbled chin thoughtfully as the self-described deity of L'Isola chuckled, seemingly to himself.

"You know, Little A'..." He said,

"I think this might be your first friend! Well how about that! No more eating alone in the bathroom for you!"

He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he did. Who said that tigers couldn't change their stripes? Never in a hundred billion years would he have expected a human to come to Aberon's aid. Granted, this complicated matters... but only slightly. He sighed, wiping a phantom tear from his eye before affixing James in his gaze. Despite being behind a dark pair of sunglasses...

There was something piercing about his gaze. As though he were glaring directly into the young man's soul.

"You really know how to pick 'em, kid. But, really... Hand him over."

 

[VeraC]

The unfolding of events was but a fleeting blur in Aberon's perception. He had last remembered being within the cockpit of the Zehirut, the crystalline monstrosity intent on fusing him with its very essence. In what felt like mere seconds, he found himself cast into a vessel, separated from his machine. However, the remnants of the crystalline husk still clung to his face and snaked up his arm. Aberon couldn't feign surprise at the capabilities of James and Ze’ev, given their formidable machines. What was surprising was his own continued existence, as the man had chosen to spare him rather than obliterate him along with the Zehirut.

"Not that it’ll matter in the end anyways."

Aberon muttered to himself, brushing off his body, a dull pain throbbing through his arm. He was well aware that his fate had been sealed from the moment he released the limiter on the Zehirut. He had hoped to control it, to harness its unrestrained potential, but it seemed that fate had other plans.

Placing his hand over his chest, Aberon could still sense his 'power,' the Sphere of the Covetous Ox remaining in his possession despite the loss of his machine. A glimmer of optimism lingered within him, knowing that as long as he held onto it, there remained a chance to pursue his goals one way or another.

But this optimism was short-lived, overshadowed by a palpable sense of impending judgment that settled over the area, heralding the arrival of another man. Aberon didn't need to look to recognize him; he recognized that voice all too well.

With a sigh, Aberon disembarked from the ship, walking on air as Zivon did the same, heading back to the battlefield where James was. He couldn't resist a jab at Zivon, his tone dripping with smugness.

"What brings you out of your hermit cave, Zivon? Did my actions prove so monumental that they roused you from your beauty sleep, or are you just here to marvel at my unmatched brilliance?"

Aberon shot back at Zivon, his expression equally smug.

"The naivety of this child is hardly a quality I'd consider one to be ideal in a friendship"

He added with a critical glance at James.

"That said, you'd best not fight this one. I can't reckon you'll manage to Origin Law your way to victory here. I would say I appreciate your aid, but your efforts were more or less meaningless in this regard."

Aberon turned his attention to James, his words carrying a harsh edge but intended as sincere advice. He extended his arm as a signal for James not to interfere.

"Do what you must, Zivon, but before you do, let me ask: What exactly do you plan to do with me? Crush me to dust and ensure I never return? Lock me in a dark prison like the Giants millennia ago?"

Aberon had now come face to face with Zivon, his demeanor unwavering even in this seemingly dire situation.

"Defective as I may be, I am still the Administrator of this world. I think you know as well, I am extremely difficult to destroy."

 

[Hitura Rael]

Geminion hefted the hammer, ready for round two. If Ze'ev was so intent on dying...

Time slowed, color bled away, and the oppressing weight of dread filled the air. Like walking into the woods and having the feeling of something you can't quite put your finger on being wrong that made hairs stand on end and senses to hyper atune to the dead and unnatural silence before a predator struck. The kind of air that triggered one's fight or flight instincts. And Ze'ev, being the chicken shit coward he was, fled before the man.

James on the other hand, would not back down. Geminion poised herself to strike, halted by Aberon's appearance.

"Mercy and second chances don't make us friends." He glared at the man on the screen. He needed a shirt or sign or something to shout that from the damn rooftops apparently. Aberon owed a life debt at this point, and killing him was not going to pay that back. Besides, everyone did deserve a second chance. A chance to change, be better, and fix their mistakes.

Of course now he was contemplating hitting them both with the giant hammer, but the advice did not fall upon deaf ears. Geminion eased her stance, but only so much. She was still ready to jump in if needed.

"You're not giving him over?"

"No. It's his life, he can do what he wants with it." He had thought about it, even striking some sort of deal in the process, but there was no honor in that.

 

[GEAR]

As James refused to move... Zivon's features slowly morphed into a scowl. It was a slow, deliberate movement of the facial muscles... and yet at the same time, somewhat unnatural. As though there were a sort of "lag", and his response was somehow delayed.

"I never really understood... Why are all of your line like this? What use could I possibly get from you defects?" He said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Eliab. Korah. Dathan..."

He numbered them off on his fingers - names intimately familiar to Aberon, even if they had never met. His peers. His "family" so to speak. Those tasked with administrating other realities, other worlds, whose works had been just as important as his own. Zivons hand curled back into a fist, as he lowered his tone into a rasping sneer.

"Insufferable shits to their last breaths. Stuck-up, middle-managing, self-important wannabes with a fatal inability to bend at the knees.

I'd be lying I said I didn't enjoy wiping that smug look off their faces whenever they stepped out of line..."

He paused, narrowing his eyes slightly, as he gave a low chuckle.

"Which, of course, they always did. Sometimes with a little help. Speaking of..."

L'Isola's final Angel raised a hand - and the SNAP of his fingers echoed through the surroundings. That tiny act alone caused ripples to form in reality, as the world contorted itself to conform to his will.

"Derrick." Said Zivon,idly, as he looked down at James.

"Give this punk a taste of real power."​

 

[MKR]

As the world rippled, bent, broke a form was becoming distinctly clear. Its approach swift as it rocketed over the diminutive form of Zivon and Aberon in what felt like an instant, movement which could be described as 'diving through time' in this moment stretched and twisting. Perhaps, especially to a Lunarian the silhouette might bring recollections as green wings of energy flowed behind a black frame.

These traits, combined with the name said by Zivon, made one connection clear and though the proportions and frame were off- wrong compared to what was known, the name Astranagant still came to mind as glittering metal was raised in two hands, the Z.O. Scythe brought to the back as the almost demonic machine coiled one wing around itself like a shield, bashing into the Geminion with a shoulder check to dislodge it from its position and drive it from the other two before the wing opened again.

Every breath was poison, every beat of his absent heart echoed a drum in his annoyingly present mind. Derrick, contemplated his existence with some regularity and a thought that had been brought up by his contemplation was whether or not it would have been better to have his soul still be tied to Gizos Gragios, at least then he would have avoided being this state of... what was left of him... Perhaps what more he had become. Did it matter which was which? Regardless the consciousness gazed out on the Geminion, another dream it seemed. This one closer to home, hm.

No, not this time. Things aligned too clearly with the known world to be another dream of saving or damning one place or another. Let alone the presence of Zivon himself which was a first. "Right." Came an almost echoing voice as the machine raised its hands, the scythe raised in the liberated sunlight above and glaring down on James and Merida both. Clearly not as into this display of power as its taskmaster was. At least there was no golf this time. Which was a marked improvement even if the dread of 'encouragement' and 'cheering' from the back line was very real.

"Don't take this personally." He directed the statement towards Geminion as the scythe was brought down in a cut to the neck of the heroic machine before him, the cut dragging the blade backwards and turning the end of the scythe towards the selected adversary revealing this was no mere 'hilt' as the bottom of this tool revealed three barrels aimed directly at the gut of the Sphere Machine. An echoing shot rumbled through the city, as a trio of shotgun blasts were let loose into the blue metal.

 

[VeraC]

Aberon's fist tightened, the sinews in his hand straining as Zivon's words reverberated through his very being. The impact of Zivon's utterances was far more profound than mere words. It wasn't just the content, but the weight of his voice, the unmistakable edge of contempt he seemed to hold for Aberon and his fellow Administrators.

"Sometimes with a little help."

A question loomed heavily in Aberon's mind: Weren't they all on the same side? Hadn't they, at some point in the distant past, all been created to preserve the legacy of the Ur-Humans, and create a world that could stand defiantly against the encroaching darkness together? What had led to this seemingly irreparable schism between them?

The words and the tone cut through Aberon's façade, challenging the very foundation of his beliefs. It was a moment when curiosity evolved into a profound revelation, one that resonated in his core and altered his perception. Like pieces of a celestial puzzle falling into place after eons, Aberon's thoughts connected and formed a mosaic of enlightenment.

This transformation was accompanied by a surge of anger. Aberon, who had always shouldered the weight of his perceived failings, suddenly found an alternative source for his torment. His worldview was violently flipped, and the darkness of ignorance that had clouded his understanding was finally dispelled.

The question that had haunted him for millennia now had a sinister answer. It wasn't Aberon's incompetence or the inadequacy of his creations that had caused the world's turmoil, but the influence of an external force that had manipulated the very arbiters Aberon had designed to preserve the world.

The deep anger in Aberon's gaze, now locked onto Zivon's eyes, spoke of the whirlwind of emotions roiling within him. The revelation had cast everything in a new light, and Aberon's once-unquestioned beliefs lay shattered like brittle glass.

"It was you?"

Aberon's tone was sharp and filled with animosity. A scowl etched across his face, locking his intense gaze onto Zivon's eyes.

"Our task was to create a world capable of resisting the impending darkness. You would sabotage that? Whose side are you on?"

Defiance surged through Aberon. For the first time in his existence, he felt anger coursing through his body and soul. His muscles tensed, and his body quivered with disdain. He'd endured a millennium of loss, struggle, and isolation, and now, he could attribute it all to a single entity. Just moments ago, he had been prepared to bow to the inevitability of his mistakes, to submit to the judgment of the last of the Angels, Zivon. He had felt the crushing guilt and the weight of his perceived failures pressing upon him, ready to accept the punishment he thought he deserved.

But now, everything had changed. The revelation that Zivon might be the true source of their world's suffering had not only illuminated the hidden truth but had also ignited a burning fury within Aberon's core. This was no longer a matter of acknowledging his errors and paying the price for them. It was deeply personal now, a confrontation that went beyond cosmic responsibilities.

Aberon's resolve had shifted from one of reluctant acceptance to a blazing determination to confront the entity responsible for this malevolence. The emotions that had once paralyzed him were now fueling his defiance. It was a fire that had been kindled in the heart of a god who had lost faith in his own creations, and now he had a target for his anger, a direction for his wrath.

In this moment, the tables had turned, and Aberon stood firm, his body tense, and his gaze sharp. His journey had evolved, and he was now poised to move forward, to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his, despite the faults that might reside within him. The cosmic stage was ready, and Aberon had quietly reignited his destiny with unwavering courage.

"It is you who is the defect, Zivon—"

Before he could delve further into this clash of wills, the Astranagant burst onto the scene, interrupting the standoff as it chased after the Geminion. Zivon had sent his enforcer, unable to make the first move himself. The outcome of the clash between James and the Black Angel remained uncertain, but Aberon couldn't stand idly by as his savior battled for their lives. Though he lacked a machine, he reached deep within his very soul, searching for the one thing he still possessed:

The Sphere of the Covetous Ox.

It was a radical idea, an untested gamble, but Aberon had little choice at this point.

"...But perhaps I owe you my gratitude, Zivon."

Aberon's voice was laced with a newfound determination. A faint, golden aura began to emanate from his body as he focused his intent solely on Zivon.

"And thank you for gracing us with your personal presence."

Aberon's arm extended as if reaching for the Angel, yet his fingers grasped at empty air, just beyond Zivon's face. Aberon's fingers trembled as they hovered inches away from Zivon's face. The golden radiance enveloped his form, casting an eerie and mesmerizing glow around the fallen god. The air around them seemed to crackle with energy, creating an almost unbearable tension.

"I will reclaim what is rightfully mine."

The golden glow intensified, and Aberon's body radiated with a fervor driven by a single, unyielding desire:

Zivon.​

 

[Hitura Rael]

"Punk?" James raised an eyebrow, "I don't think you know what that word means."

Unfortunately for Zivon, he practically announced the arrival of his little minion. The distortions caused by his arrival did little to hide it either. The cape billowing behind Geminion split in the center and rose, reshaping into crystaline wings held at the ready, above the shoulders.

Derricks first mistake though, was throwing itself at the Geminion. And with a hammer that big, it would be difficult to miss. The hammer swung like a baseball bat, aimed to connect with Derrick's machine and send him flying comically out of the fight, and out of danger. It was the best mercy he could offer the man, honestly, if he survived. It wasn't like she was all powered up right now. There was a satisfying reverberation as the hammer hit, but no time to revel in it.

"Sorry Aberon, We're not sticking around in range of two gods to duke it out. Good luck, you got this."

In a flash of verdant hues, the hammer head vanished, back to whence the Bifrost came. The hounds reseated themselves onto the Geminion, and the azure machine threw itself backwards, fast as it's propulsion could carry it away from the pending clash. Geminion's wings crossed in front of it, protecting the cockpit from the hail fire of the other god's pet as she dodged and wove through the volley. If Derrick followed, that was fine. They just needed far away from the war zone that was about to erupt. If he didn't, that was even better.

 

[GEAR]

As James ducked and weaved back, seemingly without any plan... For the second time that day, it seemed, an angel on black wings was looking out for him. A ruby flash out of the corner of his eye - and suddenly, the Geminion was falling. Plummeting away, like it had stepped out of bounds

Shit. God-damn son of a bitch!

To Derrick, it was like someone had cut a corner out of reality right before his eyes. A neat little triangle of blackness, standing over 70 meters tall. He wouldn't have had too much long to think, however, as a dark, edged-shape bounded over the lip, an enormous double-edged sword clutched in its grip as it tried to look every direction at once.

I was wrong! It's already active!

Cold sweat poured down Ze'ev's forehead as the Shurouga Sin took a single, vicious swipe at the oncoming Dis Astranagant - one that still carried the power to bifurcate both it, and everything behind it for the next few miles.

With its parting shot accomplished, Ze'ev dived after the Geminion, the black reaper twisting into its jet-like configuration. Perhaps James might have thought Ze'ev had could to take a swing at him next, but the dark machine only drifted close to him in the void.

As though it were offering him a ride.

"Steelheart! No matter what you do, don't look back!"

Ze'ev's voice, shaken and fearful, crackled over the Geminion's loudspeaker. It was a far cry from the usual arrogant countenance of the reaper's pilot, perhaps underlining the severity of his words.

"The moment that thing observes you... There's no escaping it!"

He shuddered. Even as Zivon's pocket dimension receded into the rear, he didn't dare to turn his gaze back at it. Concepts such as time, distance, permanence... nothing mattered to it.

"My enemy...! Humanity's enemy...!

L'Isolano...!"​

---

"It was you?"

The heavens split.

The earth shattered.

As if sensing its master's ire, the Covetous Ox sank its fangs deep into Zivon. Coils of lustrous gold, like thorned chains of light, stabbing into the surface of the barrier before him, its claws inches from his face - yet that alone was sufficient.

Power.

Power long thought lost flowed back into Aberon. No - power that had been stolen - not just from him, but from others like him. Their memories, their grief, their strength - all of it flowed into him like an unchecked torrent.

"Whose side am I on?"

A low chuckle resonated from Zivon's body. Despite the horrendous force being applied to his position, the volumes of power being siphoned from him, he didn't budge an inch. Not even the slightest sign of discomfort crossed his features - only a slow, sardonic grin as he gave an exagerrated shrug.

"I'm just following my function, pal! Making sure the flow of time and causality remains intact, that things go the way they're meant to go..."

Zivon laughed. It was a loud, coarse noise that grated the ears, as he spread his arms wide at the spectacle before him. And there was something else added to it now. Seeping into the surroundings, into the air.

A persistent ticking and clicking.

As though he were in the innards of some sort of enormous watch.

"And thanks to Derrick, yourself, and many other little contrived coincidences... they will."

Zivon tapped the side of his head, as if expecting it to make a hollow noise. The light flashed horribly about his person, the sharpness of his features - and the terrible glow behind his glasses that seemed to pulsate quicker with each passing moment's notice.

"But, I won't bore you with the details, little 'A." He said - and in that moment, Zivon's smirk faded.

"You've spent too long down here, Aberon. You've become like them. Just like Gail. You could never see the bigger picture."

Glowing, almost ethereal spikes of Dimensional Energy Crystal emerged from Aberon's body. It was like retracing his steps, climbing back up the stairs towards the throne that had been waiting on his return. The world around them - his plaything, his birthright, as it always had been. His consciousness spread out - even in this contained space, this quarantine zone, like the unfurling of a wondrous banner.

Zivon leaned forward... and tilted his head up, pointing to his chin.

"Come on, slugger." He hissed.

"Take your best shot. Right here!"

 

[MKR]

Persistent in its approach the Dis would not be swatted away without reprise however the disappearance of James and the sudden appearance of what could be simply described as something that would be the subject of roughly two hundred episodes of speculation on channels that advertise themselves as 'historic' caused a change in plans. The blade was raised against the Dis and in turn it sharply turned up, the impact wave cutting beneath it and tearing reality a new one. Derrick however saw the source of this strike and the grip on the Z.O. scythe seemed to increase in ferocity in return.

"You."

Came the simple word, more than the prince this was his target of choice, even if the machine was different it felt the same. That same bastard that caused him and Gail to have to split. The winged machine set into pursuit, but could not keep up with the speed of a Black Cybuster leaving it to slash into where the triangle had been.

Looking around to see if there was anything- anything at all that clued him into where not his 'designated' target had gone but rather the Shurouga Sin. A search that went on for a good moment, long enough to behind him hear Zivon begin blabbing away again. It was when his name came up however attention began going over there.

And then the remark that followed.
About Gail, about Aberon. Between bifurcated buildings in silence Derrick laughed to himself. Not out of joy but because any other reactions would not come at this exact moment. Even while rage swelled in his heart and the Dis Astranagant turned to look at Zivon.
He had thought it incompetence, over estimation of ability but no. There was intent wasn't there?

Gail's passing into the form he had now, only enabled through Zivon's unwillingness to liberate him from death's door.
His own passing, enabled only through the fact Gail was Perfectio's shell.

And now, now he was stuck in this hell with the man responsible for it all. But for him to know full well all the implications.
The scythe was sheathed, contemplation of firing his own shot at Zivon certainly coursed through his mind but no, he could do something much better.
What he had already planned he would redouble his efforts for, both his freedom.
And ruining Zivon like he had ruined others.

A cloud formed above the machine, swirling and rumbling as if it contained thunder and lightning.
Calmly the Dis rose into it, vanishing once more.

 

[VeraC]

---

​

The Ox's cosmic magic surged with an unyielding might, drawing power from Zivon, and directing it into Aberon. It flooded his essence, intertwining his very soul with the vast expanse of the universe, even within the confines of the pocket dimension conjured by the opposing god. Aberon could feel his core pulsating with newfound energy, returning him to a zenith he had not touched in over a millennium. It was the crowning moment, the ascension he was destined for as the creator of Crescentia, the very world itself.

His soul, once plunged into the darkest abyss, now blazed with the ferocity of betrayal's embers and the inferno of his duty. In this pivotal instant, he possessed the unrivaled power to accomplish the unthinkable, to fulfill his divine purpose. The struggles, the memories of his siblings who had met their tragic fates, now fueled his resolve. This was no longer a solitary battle; it was a grand odyssey, an epic saga shared with the administrators who had come before him, their legacies and duties now lay heavily upon Aberon's shoulders. The heritage of the Ur-Humans became his sole responsibility, to honor his birthright and ensure the enduring survival of humanity.

“Following your function? So you’re saying the demise of L’Isola is the way of the natural order?”

Aberon stared down Zivon's bone-chilling claim, his brow furrowed with intense scrutiny. The profound irony of their shared origin sent a sardonic grin creeping across his lips.

“A divine comedy, through and through."

He muttered, a wry smile playing upon his lips as he clenched his fist. The reservoir of power surged within him, and the entire galaxy seemed to resonate with his resolve.

“I think it’s you who’s been around for too long, Zivon. Let me give you the slumber that you so ‘deserve’."

"A single blow for every dimension you let ruin. A strike for every one of my siblings.”

Aberon declared, accepting the God's challenge with unflinching resolve.

With the universe itself seemingly holding its breath, Aberon's body tensed like a tightly wound spring, his muscles ready to unleash the very fury of creation. In an electrifying display of power, his fist surged forward, a cataclysmic haymaker aimed straight for the God's jaw.

​

The moment of impact was like the birth of a new galaxy, an explosive clash of Origin Law and providence, where the fundamental forces of creation and order dueled against the embodiment of divine protection. The clash sent shockwaves rippling through the very fabric of the pocket dimension, creating cosmic echoes that reverberated through the void, awakening ancient stars and dormant celestial bodies. The heavens themselves seemed to shudder in response, as if the entire cosmos held its breath, waiting to witness the outcome of this titanic confrontation.

But it was far from over. Aberon's left arm swung with unrestrained might, a ferocious strike aimed directly at Zivon.

Aberon's punch wasn't just a physical blow; it resonated with the very essence of the cosmos. As his fist connected with Zivon, it felt as though the universe itself was unleashed. It was as if Aberon had become a cosmic blacksmith, his mighty strike shaping the very foundations of existence.

​

Each bone-crushing impact echoed through the pocket dimension like the strikes of a cosmic hammer, forging galaxies and realities with each earth-shattering blow. The sheer magnitude of power unleashed in those moments was overwhelming, a celestial symphony of creation and destruction. The universe recoiled and reeled in awe and shock, unable to contain the monumental force being channeled through Aberon. Cosmic lightning arced outward from the point of impact, crackling like divine fireworks, and shockwaves pulsed to the farthest reaches of the dimension, shaking the very threads of reality itself. Aberon delivered punch after punch, each strike reverberating with the collective force of not just his might but that of Eliab, Korah, Dathan, and all the administrators had once been cast aside. They returned as spectral echoes from the past, uniting in their mission to strike down Zivon.

Even James and Ze’ev, who had retreated to what they believed was a safe distance, found themselves ensnared by the gravitational whirlwind of Aberon's cosmic power. The very fabric of reality quivered and convulsed in tandem with his heroic fury.

"ZIVON!"

With each passing second, Aberon's intensity swelled, his determination a blazing furnace fueling his every move. The crescendo of his assault was like a storm gathering its full might. In the midst of this celestial tempest, a primal roar erupted from his very soul, reverberating through the cosmos.

Each punch was a calculated masterpiece, a symphony of annihilation, not just a release of pent-up emotion. These strikes were precision incarnate, aimed at obliterating Zivon's existence, one blow at a time. Aberon sought to erase the opposing God's strength, bit by bit, from his very metaphysical being. It was a battle not only of might but of sheer cosmic will, and with each devastating punch, Aberon's purpose grew ever more unyielding, echoing through the void like a clarion call of destiny.

 

[Hitura Rael]

Suddenly, Geminion was falling into a disorienting space. James muttered a curse under his breath and brought her to stillness within this void, preventing her from further plummeting or spiraling, just in time to watch the Shurouga Sin square up with Derrick. It was... confusing to say the least. Was he saving them from the minion to try to take James on himself-- again? Or was he genuinely trying to save his ass again?

Shouruga reconfigured and that was all the answer he needed. Ze'ev wouldn't try to fight him in that mode, too big a risk that the Geminion would paste it with little effort.

"Steelheart! No matter what you do, don't look back!"

Geminion reached out and grabbed on to the jet form, moving to crouch on top of it and keep it's back faced to the pair of gods behind them, fighting every instinct to keep his eyes upon the enemy unit. The fear in Ze'ev's voice... He didn't know the man much, but with the atrocities he committed, he imagined it would take a lot to rattle him like that. "Merida, turn off rear cameras."

Merida flashed a frown, but obeyed the command, urgency and fear in their usual enemy was more than enough to oblige.

"You uh... wanna explain what the hell it is? Because it sounds like something that we're goin to have to eventually work together to kill unless Aberon manages to nuke it." He grit his teeth as the dimensional space shook with the fury of Aberon's blows. Please let it be enough to destroy whatever it was.

 

[GEAR]

"We're in a little over our heads here, Steelheart." Said Ze'ev tersely in response to James' inquiry.

The impact of Aberon's blows caused the space-time tunnel they hurtled through to shake terribly, causing the pilot of the Reaper to grit his teeth. This is it, he thought. This is what he got for rolling the dice on fate: being caught in the crossfire between Godlike entities, with nobody but this idiot to keep him company. If he died, here and now, the idea that he'd have to be buried next to James Steelheart was almost more than he could bear.

"It's... a long story. All you need to know is... It's a "System". An "adjudicator", that controls the flow of fate. Of the Akashic Records themselves."

He let out a long, slow sigh, and rubbed his temples as he tried... and failed, to think of a way to explain it to the young man and his co-pilot.

"Let's... just focus on surviving first." He added finally, with a groan.

It looked like things were going to get complicated after all.

...

And, there was one final thing. Unbeknownst even to Ze'ev, as the Shurouga bounded out of space, a forlorn voice echoed back towards Aberon, from one kindred spirit to another. From the depths of the machine itself, from the "heart" that made it more than mere metal...

That had once, too, belonged to a God.



<Goodbye, brother.>​

---

Righteous fury flowed through Aberon's body like lightning. His brothers and sisters were with him as one, a collective cry of fury and vengeance ringing through his form. The stars shuddered, the heavens split before his wrath, as he rained blow after blow upon the traitor, the renegade, the source of his suffering. Each hammer-like strike pounded into the wall separating the two, the shockwaves ripping and tearing at the earth and the air. Mountains were leveled, canyons dug into the ground below, jets of magma flying up into the air about the two, casting the skies a hellish red.

At first, it seemed his strikes found no purchase, but as the vicious haymaker came down, there was a distinct crack noise...

And the Angel's features creased for the first time.

"...Huh." He muttered,

"That's-"​

With one final burst of cataclysmic, planet-shattering energy, Aberon's fist plowed through the Space-Time Barrier, shattering it into a billion pieces - and it slammed into Zivon's surprised features. A sound of shattering bone, the slow contorting of his flesh under Aberon's fist appearing to go almost in slow motion. His whole body twisted back, washed by cosmic flames, Aberon's fury washing over him with the strength of a thousand super-novas.

It was an "impossibility".

No.

A "miracle".

That was the only way to describe it.

And for that moment - that single, shining second - Aberon stood upon a new plateau. Apart from his fellows. Apart from all those who had ever looked down upon him, who had scorned him, regarded him as less than what he was.

No - he had touched something, deep within, that no other of his kind had.

A soul. A truth. A moment of pure, sublime connection with not only the universe, but his own, genuine humanity - something only possible, that could only have happened, because of his fall.

Aberon was whole.​

Then - and only then - did the cheap, plastic sunglasses fly from Zivon's face.

And stop.

...

Aberon's fist remained where it was. Frozen. He couldn't move.

It was as if someone, or something, had hit the pause button on reality at the moment of his strike, just as Zivon's body was blown back.

The ticking, the clicking, was incessant now. A low, insectoid buzz that hissed and clattered and shifted just out of sight.

​

Something fell past his face.

A shred of paper, glimmering emerald green, that shone with all the colors of the rainbow.

Then another.

And another.

Each piece, accompanied by a tearing sound that seemed to echo all about the world, filling his ears.

They fell about him - and he would know they were him.

His memories. His past. His future. All that he was, all that had ever been, and all that he ever could have been...

Now shorn away. Slowly. Painfully. Agonizingly rending him out of existence, one page at a time. His whole being slowly being driven into a woodchipper, meticulously erasing him, down to the very last trace.

...

But the First would not be so patient in the face of such audacity.

Zivon's hand twitched. Slowly, he rose - the chunks of his face, his flesh, falling away behind him like a rubber mask. His entire face had been ripped away by Aberon's strike, his body seared beyond recognition. And beneath it...

Beneath...

Spoiler: Beneath...

Was nothing. A yawning void, in which were set deep two glimmering eyes.

His skin, so old, so ravaged that it was like the most gnarled of sandpaper, riddled with cracks and breaks where Aberon had scorched it. Worn by untold billions of years, his clothes nothing but rags.

...No. Not his skin. That was too human a word for what was before him. It was more like... a shell.

It had been said that Zivon's gaze alone was enough to cow those other members of Pantheon - even the mightiest of the Giants feared his glare, and in that moment, Aberon would have finally understood why:

In one burned the beginnings of all. The cold, bitter beginnings of time, of the universe. The formation of galaxies, stars, and entire planes of existence. A time before Gods, before life, before anything at all - merely particles, possibilities, bouncing about in a vacuum.

And in the other, the ends of all. Collapsing suns. Dying embers. Planets, races, entire galaxies driven to extinction, or ground down by time's merciless march. A future where the final lights in the night sky twinkled out of existence... and all was once again still.

The Alpha and the Omega, the impassive force that had enabled creation, and simultaneously dragged what it had birthed toward decay and annihilation.

But it was not the impassive stare of a vast, uncaring cosmic force/

There was something new in those eyes. Something they had been given. Something they had been taught, as they were willed into human form.

Hatred.

A revulsion so depthless, so potent, stoked over untold millions, billions, trillions of years, that those eyes blazed like two glowing coals, fresh from the deepest pits of Hell itself.

The space around Aberon shivered. Whatever was moving in the background, shifting, reorienting itself toward him had stopped at last.

Zivon watched him in silence.

There was a distant warm, bright light.

Like the rising of the sun.

And then-





Light.

The brightest ever seen in the cosmos. So brilliant in its intensity, so fierce, that it stretched endlessly out before L'Isolano.

A furious spear of ultimate destruction, cast from the arm of an angry God, that reached from one side of the infinite universe... all the way to the other. A display of power that made even those accounts of God's wrath in the stories of man look like the meager, hopeful fantasies they truly were.

When the smoke cleared... only Zivon remained.

He looked out upon the night sky before him, on the surface of the ruined Earth.

An entire quadrant of the night sky, cleared of stars. He waited a little longer... as though enjoying the sight of the final dying, wounded stars and their populaces winking out of existence before him.

Slowly... a hand came up, and cracked his neck. back into place

"...Hell of a straight right on that guy." He grumbled to himself.​

Part of him wanted to process what had just occurred... but, there was no need. Some aberrations were bound to occur this late in the process, he knew. Inconsistencies. Now that the last of their number had been eliminated, he was one step closer to realizing his goal. The rest... just required patience, and supervising the new blood.

Still. He paused to regard the cored, lifeless void where Aberon had once been.

"Shame, little A'. We could have made a great team." Zivon said, shaking his head.

"Could have watched it all burn together."​

The flickering, baleful eyes turned down to the ruined world below. An adequate preview, he thought, of what was to come. Of what he had been denied for far, far too long.

"Don't you worry, though.", He chuckled.

"I'll send your precious humans to join you soon enough."

The First, and greatest of the Angels spread his arms wide, and the sound of his raucous, terrible laughter echoed all across the dying Earth.

​