Iblis flew through the empty hallway. The temple had been long lost to the humans and was now buried underground. An old friend had sent her a message to meet them there. The once-grand temple, decorated with gold jewelry and ornate statues, was now not even a shadow of its past. Having been long lost to humanity and buried underground by the gradual accumulation of soil over the past centuries- the place was so hidden that even Fate would have difficulty finding them here.

Iblis's oversized black coat fluttered as she continued to fly through the temple. There was barely any light, but she did not need any to see clearly. She ascended the stairs towards the temple's throne and found her friend perching on it. The once golden throne had broken apart, and what remained was corroded. Iblis stopped a short distance away from her friend.

"Garuda," Iblis said. She eyed her friend. The giant bird still glowed a soft golden light, but what concerned her more was the condition of the god of war. The Garuda was missing most of its feathers. Its legs had become flaky, its toenails overgrown, and its eyes showed tiredness. "You’ve grown old and weak.” It was a question and a statement at the same time.

“I have, Iblis,” Garuda replied. What once would have been a terrifyingly loud screeching voice was now just a low whisper. “I lost my immortality a while ago, and my aging body finds it more and more difficult to handle my power.”

“Did Fate find you?” Iblis asked. “Did Fate take your immortality away?”

“No,” Garuda shook it’s head. “I gave it up.”

“You know I can’t restore your immortality.”

“That is not why I requested to meet you here, Iblis.” The Garuda plucked one of its loose feathers, and it drifted through the air and fell slowly to the ground.

“Then why?”

“My time grows short, Iblis. And I want you to do what you can for our people once I’m gone.”

Iblis knew the magnitude of what the Garuda was asking. The god of war was the only god among them who had chosen to rebel against Fate, the only one who dared.

“And end up like you. Hunted by Fate across the world?” Iblis asked rhetorically.

“Yes,” Garuda hissed. “Don’t try and act like you don’t care for our people. They are our people, Iblis. And we are their gods.”

“I know that,” Iblis said solemnly. “We all know that,” she continued, referring to all the other gods. “And yet all of us, including you, are powerless against what is to come.” She faced upwards to the ceiling and at the sky. “Come back home, Garuda. If you surrender, Fate may show you mercy and spare you.”

“It can be changed,” Garuda said softly at first. “What Fate had written can be changed. I’ve seen it.” The bird spoke louder this time.

Iblis could tell that Garuda had spoken truthfully from its voice. That it was not just the mad ramblings of hope by a dying god. Or at least the Garuda thought it was telling the truth.

“Show me then,” said Iblis.

“I can’t right now,” Garuda replied. “But if you remained in this world as long as I have, you’ll see it yourself. You’ll see the small ripples that have somehow changed the writings of Fate. And you’ll feel Fate’s helplessness against it.”

Iblis sensed delight at the bird’s words. The Garuda had not shown her any proof, and she was not too inclined to join the rebellion without one. But she knew she would still join, but only if there were a chance. “Why me?” she finally asked.

“Because you’re the only one among us that loves our people as much as I do. And you have not lost hope.”

Iblis took a deep breath and exhaled. “Even if I do want to help. I’m more powerless than you. My followers are shunned by the majority of the people of this world for their methods.”

“I have heard whispers from your followers, Iblis. Of a prophecy,” Garuda whispered.  

“I know of that prophecy,” Iblis sighed. “But you know how fickle prophecies are. And even if I gave up all my power to make it happen, it still would not be enough.”

“You are the goddess of sacrifice, and thus you’ll need sacrifice to gain power,” Garuda said what they both already knew.

Iblis sensed that the Garuda might have a plan, and she waited for the god of war to continue.

“What if the sacrifice was the life of a god?” Garuda asked.

Iblis stared at the bird, but Garuda’s eyes lingered on her forehead, where a red cross was drawn. “You’re going to sacrifice yourself to me?” she finally asked.

“Yes,” Garuda replied.

“Why?”

“To give our people a chance,” Garuda said determinedly. “I was ready to give up my life the moment I decided to rebel against Fate. I am no longer as powerful as before and would soon be much weaker. But I am still a god nonetheless, and my life would still be worth billions of our people’s.” The bird’s golden eyes peered into Iblis’s red. “Now, I’ll ask if you’re ready to do the same?”

The two gods stared at each other unwaveringly. Iblis clenched her fists. “I am.”

The giant golden bird nodded. “Hide yourself now, Iblis. Someone is coming.”

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Iblis shrouded herself, becoming invisible. No creature of this world would be able to detect her presence, and only the other gods and Fate could see her. And there was no running from Fate once they had found you.

“Who’s coming?” she asked, readying herself to fight.

“Not someone you should be worried about. They’re my last gift to our people. My final prophecy.”

Garuda unleashed its tenaga, growing five meters tall, and shone brightly. The bird spread its wings, drowning the once dark temple with its golden light. The bird’s presence would be felt immediately by anyone in the temple.

A thud sounded in the distance, followed by a groan. The person must have had been caught by surprise by the light.

“Come,” Garuda’s voice screeched through the air.

Hasty footsteps thudded towards the throne room. A man, wearing rags, appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He was young, an adult by human standards, but still young. The man went to his knees and bowed to the god.

“Tell me why you have come to my sanctuary,” Garuda ordered.

“For power,” the man answered immediately. He looked up to the god in shock at what he had just said. He tried to say something else, but no words came.

“And why do you want power?”

“To be special and show everyone that doubted me that I’m better than them.” The man looked even more horrified now.

“Only that?” Garuda asked.

“Mainly that,” the man replied, accepting that he could not lie to the god. “I have seen the vision you have gifted us. And I do also want to fight for our people’s future.”

“Tell me your name,” the god of war said while eyeing the hideous scars on the man’s arms and shoulders. The man must have tried various rituals to gain power, Garuda thought. But it had only made him weaker.

“Akar,” the man answered.

“You’re an orphan of my people’s kingdom then,” Garuda stated.

“Not exactly,” Akar said, clenching his teeth as he continued to bow. “My parents are alive. But they had disowned me.”

“And why have they disowned you, Akar?”

“Because I’m weak and a failure.”

“Is that why you wish to be ‘special’?”

“Oh, I’m special, alright,” Akar said bitterly. “But special does not mean useful,” he repeated his mother’s words. When he realized the god of war said nothing in return, Akar continued. “I’m desperate,” he muttered and did not say anything after. The god stared at him in silence.

“How much are you willing to go through for power, Akar? What are you ready to do to obtain it?” Garuda wanted to know how badly the man yearned for strength and how ruthless he could be to achieve his goal.

“Many things,” Akar answered. “You could tell from the hundreds of scars, “ he coughed and spat blood to the floor. “But I am not willing to sacrifice the lives of our people for it,” he said in disgust, distancing himself from the cult of Iblis.

“I see,” Garuda sighed, sounding disappointed. “I expected someone who had been so desperate for power that you traveled beyond the edge of civilization and clawed your way down here, not even knowing that you’d find anything would be more ruthless,” the god hissed the last word.

“I may be desperate and insane,” Akar said. “But I do have my morals.”

Garuda closed its eyes. The man did not have the ruthlessness nor will the god had hoped for. But Garuda was already running out of time and had barely enough strength to keep running away from Fate. The truth was, Garuda was just as desperate as Akar, if not more.

“Although I must admit,” Akar continued. “I am very close to breaking them.” Akar looked up for the first time to see the god of war. “I beg you for power,” he muttered. “I don’t want to turn into a monster.”

Garuda opened its eyes to meet the human and nodded. “You’ve passed.” The bird flew off of the throne and into the air. “Come. Sit on my throne.”

Tears flowed down Akar’s cheeks as he climbed up the staircase. The god continued. “You must be patient before revealing the power I am about to grant you. You will know when the time is right.”

Akar sat on the ruined throne, and he felt his body immediately stiffen and unable to move. He did not mind the discomfort, however.

The god’s body shrank, and the bright golden light began to diminish as Garuda revealed its proper form. It was no longer any more prominent than an average bird.

The god perched on the man’s lap, meeting his eyes. “Listen to me, Akar. I do not know you, but you are the last gift I could give to my people.” A loose feather fell onto the man’s lap, and Akar’s eyes grew wide at the weakened god. “Thus, I must have faith. I am fighting a losing war against Fate for humanity’s future, and I will soon perish.” Akar’s breath grew more rapid.

“Do not fear, Akar. For Fate could not hunt you as directly as it had hunted me. But you must be strong. Fate will make your life as difficult as it could, and that ‘being’ will make you suffer through pain like that you have never experienced before. You must not give in under any circumstances! You must be ruthless!” Garuda grunted. “Do you understand me?”

Akar could not nod nor speak, so he moved his eyes up and down instead.

“Good,” Garuda whispered and turned his gaze to the man’s belly. “This will be painful.”

The bird dug its talons into Akar’s belly. Unable to scream nor move, the man fainted.

 Iblis materialized herself, allowing Garuda to see her without needing to transmute. “You’re giving him your core?” she asked.

“I am,” the bird answered, ripping open the man’s belly. Blood spilled like fountains onto the floor. The man would have been dead if not for the presence of Garuda.

Once finished opening the man’s belly, revealing the core inside, Garuda stopped. It stretched its talons unnaturally long and turned on itself. The bird dug deep into its belly, fighting through the pain until its tiny golden core was revealed. Garuda had not noticed, but Iblis was already by its side.

Too late to back down, Garuda reached for Akar’s core with its beak and yanked it off, and spat it to the floor. The bird paused and shivered as it felt a hand caress its back. “For once, I am afraid,” Garuda muttered.

“I know,” Iblis said, gently caressing the bird’s feathery back. 

“Do you know where do we go after we die?”

“No,” Iblis shook her head.

Garuda nodded. “Then I’ll be the first to find out.” The bird plucked its core with its beak and spat it inside Akar’s open belly. The gold sphere immediately moved on its own and settled onto where the man’s previous core once sat. The tenaga veins moved on their own, attaching themselves to the golden core. Gold light devoured Akar’s body, filling it with new strength and healing the man’s wounds. The scars immediately fell and turned into dust and were replaced by fresh skin. At that moment, the man was born for the second time.

The god of war immediately fell onto Iblis’ lap. Garuda looked up onto the ceiling, imagining the sky and beyond, its home, thinking about the times it used to fly freely and the feeling of the wind underneath its wings. Maybe it could do it one more time, just one more. It still had the body of a god, and it would survive this wound given time.

But Garuda knew better, and it had no time left. The moment it emerged into the sky, Fate would cut it down. The bird let out a tear as it muttered weakly. “I sacrifice my life to Iblis, the goddess of sacrifice.”

Iblis let out a tear herself and placed a finger on the red cross on her forehead. The red blood stuck to her finger, and she drew a similar cross on the bird’s head. If Fate knew she accepted Garuda’s sacrifice, she knew that Fate would immediately hunt her down. But seeing her friend giving up their life for their people caused a spark to lit inside her. “I accept your sacrifice,” she muttered. Garuda’s body lit into flames, but it was painless. Iblis had made sure it was.

The fire only stopped when only Garuda’s ashes remained. Iblis felt a colossal amount of power entering her, and she momentarily struggled to clamp it down and store it in her core. Once finished, she stood up. Iblis stared at the man still sitting on the throne, fast asleep. He was Garuda’s last gift. The god of war’s final prophecy. “Make the god of war proud,” Iblis muttered. “Champion.”