The dark steel colossus swings its arm at Caterina, slamming her into the wall. Minah retaliates. "Gift of Sea: Living Torrent!" A powerful stream of water spouts forth from her hand. The massive sentinel is pushed back, the high-pressure stream damaging it a bit, but rushes forwards towards Minah. Inge stops it short.
"Gift of Beasts: Red in Tooth and Claw!" Long claws rapidly eject from her wrists, and she slashes the construct's arms. They spark, and it crushes Inge's leg with a powerful stomp. She cries out in pain. The construct flashes with light, and its broken parts slowly mend themselves. Fikre charges at it, sundering its steel skin with his claws. The construct grabs Fikre's front leg and twists it, flipping him over. It kicks his stomach multiple times.
"Gift of Fire: Divine Wrath!" Shouts Nitocris. A massive flare erupts from her, and completely scorches the construct, melting nearly the whole thing. It begins healing itself again, but Fikre doesn't let it get the change. He body slams it, destroying what little of it remained.
The Lich screams in rage. "You pests! I will slaughter you all!" He takes a small, crane-shaped dagger from his cloak and chants something under his breath, pointing the dagger at the still prone Caterina.
"He's casting a spell!" Inge shouts. "Stop him!" His incantations are too fast, however. Before Fikre can even react, the dagger flies towards Caterina and stabs her multiple times, sending blood spurting out of her body.
FUCK! "Nitocris! Get them to safety!" Nitocris nods, and grabs the incapacitated Inge and Caterina and drags them out of the room. Fikre moves in between The Lich and Nitocris to give her time to escape.
"Fikre... hello there," says The Lich. "My original plan was to trick you into a contract with me. Your power over time is extremely valuable. Was it really worth it to watch your friends die instead?"
Fikre puffs smoke out of his nostrils in anger. He roars, and charges down The Lich. "Empty Way: Levitation!" He shouts. He hovers just above Fikre's claw attack. Fikre unleashes a stream of fire at him from his breath, but The Lich reactively casts protection magic. "Cinnabar Order: Magical Fire Immunity!" Fikre's flames are helpless against the sorcery. Damn it. I can't reach him, and this room is too small to flap my wings. What do I do?... I've got it! "Gift of Undeath: Fist of the Grave!" The Lich fires a magical bolt at Minah, who narrowly dodges it. I've got to act before he kills us both!
"Miracle of Time: Reweave Time!" Fikre's consciousness accelerates to a pseudo time-stop. Let's see here. Yes, this moment! I will use this power to make it so he never cast the levitation spell! Fikre determines his action, and suddenly time resumes and The Lich is on the ground.
"What!?" The Lich shouts. "What did you do!?" Fikre charges at him before he can cast the spell again and hits him with the brunt of his head. The Lich is slammed into the wall, his bones clanking and cracking against such pressure. Fikre grabs him in his claw.
"It's over," he says. "Stop fighting."
"Not yet," he says. "Uh'eog's Lloig!" A pale, green icon appears in the air briefly before vanishing. "Release me," says The Lich. Fikre feels his claw slowly releasing The Lich. What!? He sets The Lich down. "Turn around and murder her!" He shouts. I have to resist!
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Fikre turns towards Minah slowly and begins slowly walking towards her. He twitches with resistance. The Lich cackles. "I'll make this painful," he says.
Minah looks into Fikre's large, reptillian eyes with fear. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this," she says. "Gift of Luck: Impossible Victory!" An immeasurably bright flash of light. It hurts Fikre's eyes to even look at. In a moment, everything goes black.
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When Fikre awakens, Minah and The Lich are lying on the floor. Minah's body is smoking. "No, no, no!" He shouts. She's... dead. If I had tried harder... I could have saved her... He looks over to The Lich, who seems to be awakening as well. He pins him to the floor with his claw and bears his teeth. "All out of tricks, wizard?" He snarls. They sit in silence for a moment and stare at each other. Wait... silence? The fighting outside has stopped. He carries the helpless Lich over to the large window and looks out. Holy fuck...
Every single soldier, citizen, construct, and undead that was fighting outside lies on the ground, dead.
"Minah's... power..." stammers The Lich, "Impossible Victory, was the Gift of Luck's ultimate ability. At the cost of... their own life, they can cause an event so unlikely to occur that... it ensures the victory of their allies... no matter what. Why did it... kill everyone?" The Lich's question is quickly answered.
The door to the room is kicked open. In walk an armored man in a crimson red cloak and a purple automaton slightly larger than him. "Hello."
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"Don't worry about your friends," says the man. "I let them leave unharmed. The battlefield was simply blocking our way. Two unconscious gods and an injured god preoccupied with protecting them posed no threat to us."
Fikre sets The Lich down. "Who are they?" He asks.
"I don't... know..." says The Lich.
"It's a shame about your friend there." The man adjusts a pair of goggles strapped around his helmet. "By the looks of things, you two are exactly who we're looking for. Normally, I would knock you both out and take you, but you're a bit large for that, aren't you? Heh."
"Who the hell are you!?" Shouts Fikre. "What do you want!?"
"I'll take that as a sign you don't want to come quietly." The man snaps his fingers. The construct standing behind him starts moving towards Fikre. He tries to torch it with his breath, but it is completely unphased. Fikre swipes his claw at it, but it catches his arm and breaks it. Holy shit! How strong is this thing. Fikre headbutts the construct through the immense pain, but is met with exponentially more pain as his skull vibrates from the impact. Fikre almost passes out from the pain, but holds on. No! I have to...
"Tenacious, aren't you? For a manifestation of Temperance, you are surprisingly loud-spoken. I suppose more force is required." The man stretches his hand out. "SLEEP! " Fikre's mind feels as if it's on fire for a moment before he loses consciousness.
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Fikre awakens, but finds he is unable to open his eyes. He can't move at all. What's... going on...
He feels the sensation of being dragged across dirt. He picks up bits of a conversation.
"Leviticus, how are we supposed to get him through?" A mechanical voice asks.
"We will chop him into bits if we must. Don't forget, however, we still have a friend to visit before we leave this reality."
"Please... we have hurt him enough, murdered one of his nuns. Can't we just leave him be?"
"Unfortunately, Winter, no. He still has the armor. Considering it seems that the countries of this reality are warring over it, we must return to it as soon as possible. If we wait any longer, someone else could get to it first."
Fikre's will falters as he is once again forced into a deep sleep.