"Be careful, lest in casting out your demon you exorcise the best thing in you."
― Friedrich Nietzsche
Steady and long, breath surged into his lungs and expanded his chest to the limit. Hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, Brull let the connection to Avalon widen in his heart. The beast beyond the veil was strong, powerful beyond Lucifer’s descriptions. He had no choice.
“Before Excalibur turns me to ash, you would lead the way to hell… that, I promise you,” Power beyond his limits scraped over every fibre of muscle, ragged fire that radiated gold from his pores.
“Bwhahaha!” The scornful voice crackled against the fortress of Brull’s mind, filled with chaotic mirth. “You think you understand that weapon… more than I?”
The figure behind the transparent veil drew closer, until its shadow pressed against the threshold of the frame. The stone of the gateway creaked, bowed slightly by an invisible force. Brull ground his teeth, jaw tight as he resisted the impulse to bow.
“I was there when it was forged… I watched it take its first life…” Lucifer dragged Cain and Lyra back, further from the unholy creature’s reach, mouth open in words that didn’t reach Brull’s ears. Only the soundless movements of the Devil’s mouth showed his friends had reached safety. “I ripped it from its master’s hands and cast it into the primordial winds… you can teach me nothing…”
“Maybe…” Brull shrugged off the cool press of the creature’s killing intent and pointed Excalibur towards the sky. He gathered yet more power, until his body screamed at him to stop. “...but that won’t stop me from giving it a try.”
Gold spilled into the world, a sunrise that pressed against his skin. The rays flooded the mask on his face, a shift in colour that tinted his head silver-black. Runic script flowed from the cat-faced mask, a dense formation that sank into Brulls flesh. It gripped his cells tight, healed and reinforced until his body stabilised.
“What is this…” The pressure on Brull’s skin flickered as if the beast behind the curtain had truly faced a surprise. “Runes… scripture touched by the true words of creation…” Cold wind returned with a vengeance, efforts redoubled as it sought access to Brull’s mind. “WHO CREATED THIS MASK OF YOURS!!!”
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“I told you, you can’t get out…” Ven raised an eyebrow as Indra slammed a fist against the gate that led to the levels above. “The labyrinth doesn’t let residents of its levels climb beyond their station, and that gate is supposed to be indestructible.”
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The crystalline man ignored Ven’s statement and poured omni coloured lightning into the portal's face. Bolt after bolt, useless in the face of the Titan’s ingenious construction. Ven shook his head. The Titan came off as a buffoon, but he’d crafted the most advanced magical object in the universe… as long as you discounted the systems created by Identity.
The Relic World was a true marvel. A world forged of countless layered universes and realms, completely impenetrable and beyond the power of the strongest of the Gods. It reminded Ven of his own realm, but organised in a different way. Both were massive conglomerations of disparate realities, socketed together as if they were meant to fit.
“So much of my strength has been lost…” Indra slumped back, defeated by the silent gateway. “It should be impossible, my power is inviolable… nothing can rob it from me!”
“Ready to listen?” Ven drifted over, lips held still to avoid a scornful smile. “I told you, you can only go down, unless someone like me gives you a ride through the gates”
“Don’t be so smug about it,” Indra snorted. he glanced about the emptied realm, devoid of anything but his cathedral and sky now that his lightning had returned to him. “Where is this supposed gate down?”
“We’ll have to look around… I sort of assumed it would be in your temple?” Ven shrugged. Other than Indra and his building, he’d found nothing else of note in this place. “If not, I’ve got as much of a clue as you do.”
“This is but a summer house,” Indra waved a hand and the mighty cathedral shrunk down and floated to his palm. “It holds no secrets from me, and no gates to other realms.”
“Then let’s start searching,” Ven sighed and let his aura expand across the skies. Black clouds replaced the missing storm, a web that stretched out and out. “If you’re really the only thing on this floor, then my poor Giant is going to need to go deeper to find himself a meal.”
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‘You must act quickly,’ Excalibur’s voice whispered into Brull’s ear, even as she sent more energy into his rune-empowered body. ‘This spell is impressive, but it has a time limit… don’t waste Ven’s gift.’
Brull nodded and levelled his sword at the door. For the first time since he’d place hands on Excalibur, she held nothing back. Endless waves of gold, an ocean without limit, filled him up with a reckless might.The blade in his hands exposed its core, countless runes that composed its form illuminated from within.
“CHEATER!!!” The shadowed creature howled from behind the veil, eyes finally visible as crimson pits, centred by the faintest spark of white. “THIS POWER WILL NEVER TRULY BELONG TO YOU, AND I SHALL BE THERE TO LAUGH WHEN IT TAKES YOU INTO OBLIVION!”
“You can tell me what it looks like,” Brull let his lips raise in the smallest of grins. He could do anything with this power… so he would teach this thing a lesson before he sealed this door behind something stronger than a veil.
Excalibur flashed, a corona of light that rivalled the death of a sun. Holy fire, compressed into the finest line, hammered past the transparent curtain and into the defiant figures chest.
A horrendous screech, birthed from the darkest places of the soul, ripped free of the creature's throat. For a single, terrible moment, it stood illuminated by the light of Brull’s sword. Fleshless skulls, limbs capped by rusted blades, and a maw that opened its face from ear to ear.
Its cries faded, as did the light, but it never retreated, eyes locked on Brull’s with the deepest hate. The cat-kin steadied his hands and spun his sword in a repetitive arc. His blade weaved a cage of power, sword light that bound the space and held in the unholy glow.
“We will meet again… Master of the Sword…” A final whisper itched at the back of his skull, before he sealed the final cracks. “Next time… you will tell me who gave you that mask…”