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Doing God's Work
158. Critical Mass

158. Critical Mass

Xiānfēng’s great wolf leapt from one arcing root to the next, snapping at anything that got in his way. He was huge, grey and still growing, each footfall bigger than the last. The light of Yggdrasil reflected off his fangs.

For a brief moment, I forgot about the war and the mayhem, Baldr, Yahweh, and even my mission, and watched the stars fall from the sky. Except they weren’t stars – those were already gone. They were gods, screaming and bleeding in eerie silence for causes they didn’t fully understand.

My son should have been on – or at – my side. But if he wasn’t, I could at least take his image with me wherever I was going.

I looked away, lest the image be of his demise.

“We have time,” Lucy repeated.

I snapped back to reality and picked up the pace. The lighthouse ahead emerged in a smooth line directly from the lake’s surface, no rocks or waves to break the surreal transition. Contemporary in design, it resembled something like a blunted razorblade with two sharp white walls bounding a cascade of glass, almost a squashed miniature version of Providence’s foyer.

It figured Providence would be at the centre of the end of the world, even if only in spirit. It clung on where it wasn’t wanted, a perennial cockroach of beautiful outposts concealing an ugly heart.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked the devil again.

“Loki,” she said in a chiding tone, “do you really need to ask?”

“Yes, kind of. Maybe.” I ran a hand through my hair, fingers catching on its many silver ornaments. “This is how they get you.”

“Oh, and here you had me thinking it was mind control.”

“That, too.” I pursed my lips. “You know, if I make it, I could take you back with me.”

“That seems like a strategic flaw.”

“Helping you? Funny, that.”

“And I appreciate it. If it involves what I think it does, though, I’m going to have to decline. Mainly because I value my independence.”

I let out a small breath of mostly relief. “You’ll effectively die,” I reminded her, just in case. “All of this and everything that happened.”

“It’s one week, Loki. I’ve taken far more from you than that.”

“And not all weeks are equal. Shit.” Unbidden, a fat drop squeezed itself out of my tear duct and threatened to trespass further. This was supposed to have been an infiltration, not... this. I moved to change the subject. “If you’re possessing Pakhet, what’s your body doing? It’s not exactly a safe rest environment out there.”

“I’m aware. Right now, I’m hurtling endlessly through boiling lava in excruciating pain.”

I tilted my head as if I hadn’t just been through a similar ordeal. “You’re taking that well.”

“What matters is what I do here,” she said, and beckoned me onwards. “It’s not too late for us to work together.”

“We’ve been over this,” I responded darkly. “Stop assisting Baldr, and sure. Otherwise, I hope whatever happens to me makes you feel terrible enough to notice the mind control. Maybe I’m wrong and you can still get out after I’m gone.”

“Technically, either of you going back will erase this version of me,” Lucy pointed out. “So I doubt it. Oh – you should see this. Any second now.”

I followed her pointing fingertip back up to the sky, where a handful of shapes abruptly stopped what they were doing, fell limp and plummeted into unconsciousness. The god bomb had moved on, only a scant distance from reaching the borders of the lake. “We need to hurry.”

“That one’s controlled by your guys.” Lucy grinned. “They made it quite far. But it won’t breach.”

Crackles of lightning sparked up a cluster of Yggdrasil’s roots near the edge of the invisible field, growing and gathering at the tips. A radiant glow built around them, complete with more errant sparks, before blasting in a massive strike towards the centre of the dead zone. Further blasts followed, zigzagging across the heavens in spears of spectacular light.

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“Is that Quil?” I asked, scrunching my nose. “Still thick. He’s supposed to be on our side.”

“It stops the breach, though. I can see it.”

She was talking like a seer.

“Correct,” said Lucy.

“You’re possessing a seer,” I followed up with, completing the question my companion had already answered. “Aren’t you? Who is it? Janus?”

The devil nodded. “Him, Pakhet, and Enki. That’s about the limit of what I can handle without giving the game away.”

I let out a low whistle. The containment field erupted in sudden orange light, spheres of the familiar colour I’d come to associate with algiz, though I had no sense of the rune itself. Showing itself was a mistake. Lightning struck again, this time with a visible target, in a bolt so bright it filled the heavens and blinded my vision. I healed in time to see the fragile encasement shatter, the pieces fading into nothingness, and Quil materialise in human form out of the twisting light.

The instant he did, Durga whirled in and took his head. A week ago, they’d been working together.

From the dead zone, figures started materialising into being.

Algiz bloomed again in the distance, halfway through a resurrecting foe’s body. They began to fall, only to stop and spin back into new life. A second and third figure exploded in quick succession as Regina followed Apollo’s earlier advice. The orange orb surrounding her made her quick to spot, clinging for dear life to the shadow of an overhanging branch.

Durga’s trident pierced through the barrier as though it were nothing, and my high priestess fell. She really had come far.

Next to me, Lucy sighed.

The lighthouse loomed upon us. Glass sparkled brightly at its entrance, and I could make out faint, distorted movement from the upper floor. The light from its windows lit my upturned chin.

Beyond it, Durga froze, stuttering to a sudden halt, and stabbed at the empty air. She feinted to the left, dodging nothing, then somersaulted into a follow-up blow with no apparent effect. Yahweh, a surprised look on his face, alighted on one of Yggdrasil’s branches and stared, only to spring away as a flash of blue summoned Kali. Her daggers ran straight into Mayari’s materialising spear as the celestial goddess appeared from nowhere for a rematch. Apollo’s bolt of golden light finished the avatar off the next instant, and the pair high-fived. They weren't the only friendly reinforcements. Flashes of improbable half-withered dragon coiled their way through the sky towards Fenrir, restoring fallen allies in their wake. Buying time.

I spared a brief glance at Lucy and pushed open the lighthouse door.

It definitely had the signature of Providence’s interior decorator A-team, albeit almost untouched. Grey industrial carpet in the same pattern as the office lined the stairs, starting at the entrance. The building smelt just-built, unnatural corporate freshness overriding the seawater tang outside. From the inside, the ethereal glow revealed itself to be from multitudes of LEDs. They lined the walls in constellations mimicking the design in Providence’s executive meeting rooms.

The stairs spiralled up between a double glass overhang and were vacant. I plodded up, letting the ocean drip from my shoes. Soft reverberations accompanied each footstep, the devil’s close behind me. It wasn't that high - only a few storeys - but I wanted to make it last.

Outside, the bedlam raged on, but fuzzy – indistinct through the filtered glass. There, too, the backdrop seemed to be growing brighter.

I trudged some more until antsiness overcame me. Thanks, Lucy.

A sad sense of wistfulness entered my head. Go easy on Baldr.

I won’t, I replied.

When I glanced back, I didn’t find the expression I was hoping for. Hel all over again.

The door barring our way was white, luminous and labelled in Akkadian with a helpful translation in English underneath. [Authorised personnel only,] it read unimaginatively, all of it in sleek engraved lettering. The pristine effect was spoiled somewhat by the diagonal tilt of its broken hinges, and the smoking hole in the wall nearby where a card reader would be.

I put some force behind it and kicked it open with a boot, prepared for the wrong sort of welcoming committee.

The rectangular room beyond was small, nicer than the stairs and mostly empty save another opening in the opposite wall. This one seemed to lack a door by design, and extended into a long, impossible corridor I definitely should have noticed from the outside. Oddly, it wasn’t tripping my dimensional awareness.

On closer inspection, the room wasn’t entirely empty. A curl of undulating cuneiform text curved along the walls from the corridor’s opening, gently tapering as it went. I followed it back to a spot near the floor on one of the side walls where it seemingly began, progressively growing smaller until it vanished into the realms of the microscopic.

Follow it and I’ll see you further in, Lucy advised. Pakhet will be staying here.

I rose out of my squat and peered into the far corridor. More of the LEDs sparkled into the distance. The unbroken line of Akkadian, still increasing in font size, draped itself across the walls and ceiling. There didn’t appear to be any windows.

We were at the top of the large pair extending down through the lighthouse overhangs. Outside, it was brighter than ever. Distortion made it hard to pinpoint specifics, but there was no mistaking the consuming branches of Yggdrasil. I pulled out my halo to check, and found the pattern on the other side matched almost exactly.

The irony.

My last glimpse of whatever was left of Midgard was filled with a long, dark shape rearing up through the skies. It might have been a worm.

I glanced back at Lucy, who gave me a thin smile and waved me on. Then I stepped into the corridor.