The God of Phantasms was sitting on the couch, but his gaze. It never averted off of The Savior, instead it rested. Wide, ragged, unblinking. He never opened his mouth but the snarl never dissappeared. His bright blue shag formed into a chaotic and jagged curly compass around his head. Pitch black eyes, the purity of white before vanquished as he gazed at The Savior.
“I thought I got rid of this part of you two days ago.” He spoke without his soft smooth lips even opening. The androgynous God’s voice spoke with silk woven in between each syllable as the club still partied.
Music blared.
The Pucks didn’t notice the ceiling vanishing— too occupied with the neon dance floor. Holding each other tightly, smiling. It was victory for them, a victory that they didn’t even lift a finger for. A victory over Thidos, over Floria. A testimony to Ostra being supreme.
Ostra being all powerful.
The Savior turned around and gazed at the moon. The never-suspending crescent which glowed bright white. According to Medea’s design, a half-moon of luminant divinity.
“I… sense him.” The Savior muttered, grabbing his head as he unleashed a mild groan.
(“Gabriel Khan? You think he survived…
Don’t be foolish my Savior! Remember your consciousness lingers throughout all of existence— you may be sensing his soul in Heaven or Hell! Don’t forget, that explosion could level planets in a row!”)
The Savior folded their arms, “I’m not being foolish, I am simply counting any options of what could possibly happen. Of course I did not waste my full potential on such a groveller. An attack that could destroy him was optimal— only him but I made sure not to level anywhere else.”
The floating diety saw some dust in the sky. Within the dust cloud was a monochrome smiling mask. “Oh of course.”
He then blinked.
A million slashes from invisible spears grinded the mask of Gabriel into nothingness.
“Heh…
After all, I’m pretty sure that Medea only attempted to strip our power away from us because I specifically hurt his little feelings.”
“If you hurt my feelings then come down and try reconcile with me… the self proclaimed Savior.”
The Savior’s pale blue eyes enlargened as he ever slowly.
Slowly.
Slowly.
Turned around and saw Medea’s face.
It didn’t change. Never blinked, never looked away.
The abyss of darkness.
(“This stare. This stare. It’s… it’s… When Eliza was there. When she was there in that operating room. But it’s not out of no emotion— no this.. this is emotion.”)
“I guess one could call this man— no, this God who stares at me…
The Baba Yaga.”
The Savior sighed, floating down quickly to the ground as he stared at Medea. Reaffarming his posture, right hand over his black mesh shirt as his left arm shoved to the side of his leg. His crimson cape shrawls blowing due to the sensations of the loudspeakers as his ruby sweatpants flickered rainbow due to the radiance of the club.
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“Ze—Zero? What the hell are you doing?” Ivory boldly questioned, lunging out his seat and staring at the ‘Imp’. His lion-cloth juttering upward with him as his dreadlocks layered on The Savior’s body.
A height difference, immense.
“Speak with the Savior in such amplitude and you will be cut down like a peasant.” The Savior lifted his head, a cheshire’s smile glowing.
“You’re back on this aren’t you.” Ivory punched his palm. “What even—” He stared upward at the missing ceiling. “Are you behind this!?”
“No. It was the late Gabriel Khan, the former Fourth Slavi— also known as the Archangel.”
“Former? Late?” Ozymandias’ gaze landed on The Savior, “What do you mean by this, Zero?”
“He attempted to fight me.. so I ended his life with a simple aura explosion.”
“Aura e— what? You what?” Ivory grabbed by The Savior by the shirt, easily lifting him into the air as he peered into his eyes. The Savior chuckled, wiggling his right arm to the ground as he oogled.
(“He’s questioning you damn it! Make that mongrel cry with the truth! For you are The Savior!”)
“Are you sure you are Thidos— no. I guess I should say Xeras’ son. You share alot of similarites with the Lord Medea over there. With your beautiful white eyes and that elegant blue hair. Even your darker skin and muscles, down to your androgny.”
“Bastard!” Ivory seethed, “You killed Gabriel? That was my fucking punching-bag.”
“I wish I mutilated his corpse, at that rate we could’ve had a funeral but… I did smitten his last remaining article of being in the mortal realm with my spears.”
“You!” Ivory hastily let go and leaped behind.
In lightspeed after a barrage of spears shot through the flooring— flying into the night sky before dispersing into thin air.
“Don’t bother fighting him.” Medea chuckled, “He’s too arrogant to ignore a simple factor right beside him.”
The Savior felt a cold hand on his back. The fingers were uneven, possibly three or four stubby ones. But they carried no heat, no signatures. It felt like nothing.
“I guess Thidos was right on that accord.” Medea grinned, his eyes loosening. “Maybe I should’ve let Floria have its way with you. If this what you were gonna produce.
Now turn him into ash Mog.”
.
.
The thudding of dancing feet on the floor…
.
.
The snares of the instrumentals in the background blasted…
.
.
A breath of exaspiration…
.
.
“Mog?”
The Savior’s eye twitched.
“Aha.
Aha.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!YOU FOOL!YOU HONESTLY THOUGHT THAT THE SAVIOR WOULD DIE TO SIMPLE DECAY!?!
WE’VE SURVIVED WAY WORSE THAN THAT!” The Savior spun around and grabbed Mog by the right arm. Reinforcing his grasp as he flung his left arm backward to call on a barrage of spears.
“Bullshit!” Mog spun his left fist into his right shoulder, dislocating it and pulling himself away from The Savior’s grip. Staggering backward as he grabbed it once more, painfully relocating it as he scowled. The orange goblin’s fangs sneering as his leather gloves were tied around his neck in a bowtie. His gaze lept onto the last position he was in before he crouched onto the ground, grabbing the floor and instantly decaying it.
Making a pocket hole.
Then a blur of spears swept across the floor before jolting into the sky and dispersing in the air.
“Don’t get involved. It’s their matter isn’t it. It’s also a test for my favourite Reprisal contestant.” Medea wagged his finger at Ivory who sat back down. Ozymandias leaned closer to the God as his eyes burrowed.
(“Smart little cookie.”)
“I guess I got to give credit for when it’s due.” The Savior clapped his hands which he sharpened into claws. Walking over into the hole. “You have decent battle intelligence.”
“I’ll have to adapt this power.” Mog mummured.
“Pardon?” The Savior cupped his ear and mockingly leaned into the hole, “I didn’t hear your grovels mortal. Speak with more care.”
Rumble… Rumble…
The Savior’s eye twitched. “I’ll have to try and make this damn Imp turn into ash. Straight ash— alright.”
“If you are going to beg make it quick and efficient! The Savior is omnibenevolent after all!”
Rumble… Rumble…
“Alright… I’ll have to use this better than Ol’ Richie.
So boom!”
A speeding Mog flew out of the hole, grabbing The Savior by the neck as he flew into the sky.
No further.
No further than that!NO FUCKING FURTHER I SAID!
“Where— what the!” The Savior stared around, he was heating up. He then averted his gaze to Mog, who was propelling himself upward into space. “How does the power of decay lead to flight!”
“I don’t know!” Mog sang cheerfully, “Hey Zero! Drop the edgelord routine and tell me how it feels that you are going to die to the same power you mocked.”“I didn’t— No! I DID! So what! Nothing’s ending!” The Savior wiggled his arms around, bear hugging Mog as he flapped his wings and propelled higher upward.
“What! What the fuck are you doing!”
.
.
.
.
“Look now! We’re in space!” The Savior exclaimed, bursting through the laws of space and flying higher and higher. His direction being opposite the moon.
“Where are you—” Mog gulped, “Wait… why can I breathe?”
“The Savior’s kind of course! Even with my knowledge of all of existence, some things are unclear to me of course.” An aura of red circulated The Savior.
Heat. It was feeling significantly hotter.
“Wait. Where are you taking me?”
“Let’s see if you are stronger than a sun, I mean… you must be if Medea calls you his favourite.”
(“Savior… you really are going to destroy the sun? Think about the economy!”)
“Well Medea can also remake it… I mean he will the instant I destroy it of course— it’ll be the first occurence of a double-sun. Those people on the south of Ostra are going to adore me.. which they should already!”
“Who are you speaking with? You really have lost your mind!”
The Savior’s eye twitched. “Silence mortal! Now engage with a sunbath!”
