Power of the Gods
Prologue: The Hands of Providence
Prologue: The Hands of Providence
The three figures moved quietly towards the House of Law as the boiling sun shone down upon them. Most people were resting to avoid the harsh burn the flaming ball left, and those who remained awake tended to remain away from the foreboding structure that cast its shadow over the whole town, so the trio passed practically invisible.
When they reached the entrance of the House of Law, they took shelter beneath a balcony, letting the shade cool them down.
A moment passed, then the only adult among them took out a small radio from the bag on his shoulder, lifting it with his bronzed hands to his firm, full mouth.
"Team B, in position," he said softly into the radio, talking over the crackling. Knowing he would get no answer, he flicked the radio off and stashed it into his bag.
Next, all three figures removed a thin object from their bags.
It was a slender, nine-millimeter pistol, which the man loaded with bullets before clicking the cartridge shut and flicking the safety off.
The second and third members of the trio, a boy of fifteen and a girl of seventeen, loaded their own weapons with bullets, the girl with swift, elegant movements, and the boy clumsily.
The way the boy held the weapon, at arms length with one hand, showed his inexperience, while the way the girl clutched it, close to her chest with both hands, proved her expertise.
The man looked down at them both.
"Hermes. Athena. Ready?"
The girl nodded. "Ready."
The boy grunted in a quavering voice.
Looking at the glass doors, the man placed a large hand on the door. "I'm going in."
The girl nodded again. "Godspeed," she said, before disappearing around the corner, the boy close behind.
When they were out of sight, the man entered the huge structure that stretched up to the clouds.
It seemed almost lke an office building, with desks and suited figures working behind them. It represented order and how it could not be broken.
Or so they thought.
After a few minutes of walking, he came across the first checkpoint.
Faceless soldiers, dressed in khaki camoflauge, and wearing black plastic visors, stood before him, and above them was a large steel structure, like the metal detectors found in airports..
Faceless soldiers, dressed in khaki camoflauge, and wearing black plastic visors, stood before him, and above them was a large steel structure, like the metal detectors found in airports..
As he approached, he sent a flurry of sparks from his hand into the wiring for the detector, frying the circuits, so that when he passed under the detector, the red light neither blared nor lit up, and the soldiers didn't raise the rifles clutched to their chests.
Sometimes having the power of Surt could be a blessing.
Supressing a sigh of relief, the man moved on.
Stage One complete.
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After another couple of checkpoints, the man took the elevator up to the 160th floor.
After another couple of checkpoints, the man took the elevator up to the 160th floor.
This area was made of squared off cubicles, except no one was working in them, only guards with their visors flickering words, wires from the computers feeding into the darkened plastics.
Passing them, the man walked into the only office door on the floor.
This was like a conference room. White walls, a long brown conference table with hard-backed black chairs neatly lined up alongside.
Reaching into the bag, the man took out his final object from the bag on his back.
A thick black square with a thin glass screen.
A timed bomb.
Putting the bomb down on the table, he pressed the red button on the end of the left side of the square.
15:00 flashed along the screen and began counting down.
The man was finished. He had to escape before the bomb went off, taking out the major support pillar just outside this office.
Stage Two complete.
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He was halfway to the elevator before the guard noticed him. His eyes lit up in recognition, and the man felt his chest heave.
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He was halfway to the elevator before the guard noticed him. His eyes lit up in recognition, and the man felt his chest heave.
The guard was clutching his rifle tighter, so the man beat him to it, pulling his pistol out and shooting the man point blank between the eyes. As his visor shattered, the man fell back, blood spurting from the hole the bullet had drilled in his head. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Then, everything erupted into chaos. Alarms were blaring, his world was flashing red.
Bullets began flying, and the man dived behind a table for cover, as smoke and the burst of gunfire filled his head.
Firing over the desk, he heard cries of pain and thuds as bodies hit the ground. The green carpet was soon slick with blood.
But after ten minutes, the man realised this wasn't getting him anywhere. The elevator was constantly delivering more men and women to their deaths, and it was only a matter of time before a bullet found its mark. Not to mention his ammo was running low.
It seemed he had no choice. He had to use his power.
Letting the power flow to his fingertips, his body filled with heat and power, and the old familiar feeling of fire in his stomach rose.
Breathing deeply, he stood up and left his cover, standing in the middle of the throng of men and women that surrounded him.
And unleashed the full force of Surt, god of the netherworld's fire.
The dazzling brilliance of the flames incinerated the unfortunate souls closest to him to ash, and the guards behind them were burnt to blackened husks. Those at the very back were thrown like rag dolls through the windows and walls by sheer power.
The carpet blazed and the walls were black.
The man was the only survivor of Surt's Inferno.
Apparently not, for now a burst of applause reached his ears.
Looking frantically around, he saw a tall woman standing before him. Long black hair flowed to her shoulder-blades, and she was accompanied by no less than twelve soldiers, armed with...
"Your bomb has been disabled, Surt. These guns are loaded with tranquilisers potent enough to bring down the gods. Now, you will come with us, and tell us everything you know."
The man raised his gun. Two bullets left.
No. she couldn't get the information. It was too precious.
The gun rose to his temple.
"Stop him!" yelled the woman.
But it as too late.
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The girl named Athena felt the moment the man died.
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The girl named Athena felt the moment the man died.
No emotion showed in her face as she lifted the radio to her mouth.
"Mission failed. Surt has been killed."
"Mission failed. Surt has been killed."
Sighing, she looked up at the still flawless House of Law, with the exception of a few windows.
"We need new recruits."
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I'm not sure why, but it does.
She sounds like a cold character, and those are always the best, tbh. Cold is good.