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Momo The Ripper [Book 2 on Amazon]
279 – Slice of Heaven

279 – Slice of Heaven

After they finished their tea, Valerica led Momo through that mysterious ripple in the Nether, speaking with poorly disguised aggravation as she said, “Morgana was supposed to meet me—us—here to rehearse, but it appears she still hasn’t gotten out of bed. No matter. I was in charge of the first Dark Calamity, I’m happy to usher in the second one.”

Momo frowned.

“The second one? Isn’t your intention to… end the war, not start a new one?”

“Two sides of the same coin.”

“Valerica, I’m begging you not to speak in metaphors just this one time.”

As they stepped through the rift, a new environment slowly revealed itself. Like origami, the edges of the Nether began unfolding into a wide open space.

Momo was surprised to feel something soft under her clogs as she padded into this new domain. Her feet sank subtly into the puddy-like ground, which smelled earthy and fresh, like recently plowed soil. As the Nether unfurled itself, a wide green field rapidly expanded around them, painted gold by a dawning sun. Dramatic mountain peaks rose up in the distance, hugged by white cherubic clouds.

Replicant Area #AB00009

“Little Slice of Heaven”

The System’s description was just about right. But misery loomed over the field like a bad cold. Milling around the farmland, as if lost in a drug-induced daze, were dozens upon dozens of nether demons. They were chained at the wrists and at the ankles with what looked like mana-depleting handcuffs. Some of the demons, upon encountering another, would snap aggressively like an agitated hound. Others would whine and cry and collapse into huddled positions, bent over in the grass. What they all had in common was a sense of overwhelming malaise—an exhausted desperation with no outlet.

“Really, I’m not trying to be purposefully obtuse, darling,” Valerica continued. She turned back to face Momo and offered her a shrug. “It’s just the truth. The end of one person’s war is the start of another’s. Times of peace are a great time to accrue weaponry.”

Momo’s jaw went slack. The sight of Valerica, all elegance in her satin gown, shrugging so casually as a scene of absolute misery churned behind her, made her stomach shift uncomfortably. She was reminded of something Viktor Mole said to her a long time ago, upon their first meeting. A warning he had given her.

She might seem charismatic, friendly, beautiful… But it’s a carefully constructed ruse to get what she wants. At the end of the day, she is evil incarnate.

Even a broken clock was right once a day, Momo supposed.

“I see,” she said, a low, sinking feeling in her stomach. “So this is you… accruing weaponry?”

“Precisely.”

“To start a new war.”

Valerica huffed.

“To start and end one, concisely, in the same breath,” she said, then added cheekily, “I will have to dream up new enemies once the Nether Demons eat my current ones.”

Momo laughed uncomfortably. She wasn’t ready to push the topic further yet, so she settled on finding out more information. She still had so many unanswered questions.

Starting with—“How are you keeping them like this? All… docile?”

Valerica clapped her hands together, obviously eager to talk about it.

“Oh. Just one of my marvelous new nightmare domain spells. [Daze of the Nightwalker],” Valerica exclaimed proudly. “It lets me put creatures in a sort of dreamlike stupor. Technically they don’t lose any of their abilities, but they’re rendered so incapacitated that it doesn’t matter. As soon as I remove the effect, it’ll be just like taking off a blindfold.”

“That’s… horrifying,” Momo confessed. How was Valerica surprised that Momo was still terrified of her? “Is there no way to escape the spell?”

Valerica tapped her chin, strolling up to one of the demons. Momo felt a jerk of pity as the demon hissed, snapping its maw at the air but nowhere near Valerica. It clearly sensed the presence of danger, but it was unable to pinpoint the exact coordinates. Momo imagined it felt like a hazy form of sleep paralysis. Again, horrifying.

“If the creature has a sufficient number of Intelligence points, perhaps. But these things are all raw passion. They run purely on Strength and Dexterity, as far as I can tell. They can’t even produce speech, let alone realize they’re dreaming and overcome that hallucination.”

Momo watched as Valerica glided her hand around the demon’s face, demonstrating its complete lack of coordination as it failed time and time again to strike her.

The poor things, Momo thought. They didn’t deserve this.

“The demons can produce speech, you know,” she interjected. “If you teach it to them.”

Valerica's eyes snapped to her curiously. “Is that so?”

Momo saw in her gaze a brief preview of the Valerica she had first fallen for. The same one that had viewed her as a creature who needed tending, once upon a time.

“Yeah. I came across one in the onboarding, and I was able to actually teach it a few words. After I purified it, it was even able to construct sentences. I think they’re smarter than you’re giving them credit for. At least—with enough time and patience.”

“Purified it? Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh. It’s… a spell I constructed. To transform them.”

Valerica’s eyes widened. She leaned in closer, eyes turning crimson. “A spell you… constructed? Momo, that’s… incredible! Who knew you had the talent for that!”

Momo flushed at the compliment.

“And what a relief that you do,” Valerica said, sighing. “My backup plan was horrendous. But seeing as you can transform them into your own personal minions—”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Oh, that’s not exactly what the spell is for—”

“—Then we’ll have no issue directing them to eat the gods.”

Momo blinked, words dying in her throat. This of course wasn’t the first time she was hearing of the plan, but it was the first time she was hearing it directly from Valerica’s lips. Confirming that she was, indeed, intending to feed the pantheon to a bunch of demons. Cold-blooded, premeditated murder of every god in existence outside Morgana, Momo, and herself. It was as simple as that. So simple that Momo refused to dwell on it, and instead continued stepping around the periphery of the conversation.

“So you’re intending to lure the gods here, then? To this….”

“Little Slice Of Heaven,” Valerica grinned. “I mean it’s a lovely venue for a massacre, isn’t it? Beautiful weather, nice mountains… I’ll have the nether demons stored away somewhere else when the guests arrive, of course. Can’t have their ugly little heads taking away from the scenery. But once all the gods have made their entrance, I’ll cast [Daze of the Nightwalker] on them, you’ll unleash the demons, and then we’ll make our swift exit mid-mayhem.”

Momo’s brow creased. Don’t get emotional, she reminded herself. Focus on the details. Understand the plan. “Will the nightmare spell really work on the gods, though?” she asked. “Isn’t it intended to be used on mortals?”

Valerica hummed thoughtfully. “It’s a God-level spell, so I’m betting that the Intelligence requirement to dispel it is high enough that it will work on the gods present at the funeral, at least for a few crucial seconds.” Valerica paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she continued with a bit of uncertainty, “A few seconds should be all I need.”

“Really? If the gods wake up after only a few seconds from the haze, is that really enough time for your plan to work? Won’t it take longer than that for the demons to cannibalize literal… deities?”

“Bright and skeptical as always,” Valerica said, reaching out to pat Momo’s shoulder. “Indeed, they won’t be consumed immediately. But they will have nowhere to go. A few seconds will be all I need to get me, you, and Morgana safely outside the bubble, and lock the replicant area. If you recall, I am the singular Nether technician—plumber—however you’d like to call it. In the same way that I successfully barred the gods from leaving the Nether, I believe I can lock them inside this area just the same.”

Momo perked up, eyebrows flying upward.

That—that was an opportunity.

“Valerica, if you can seal them in here for as long as you want, why don’t we just… do that? Lure them here, cast the nightmare spell, and then leave them to their devices until they— they see reason, or something? That might be our way of settling this peacefully. Instead of just destroying them all before we’ve even given them the chance to redeem themselves. The chance to have an honest conversation—”

“Momo, I…” Valerica’s smile faltered. “You know I adore you for your optimism. But Morgana has given those sorry fools every chance to redeem themselves. They refuse to. Prolonging their existence is no better than letting the wound fester.”

Momo’s hands tightened to fists. A quiet anger had begun to molder in her stomach.

“But these are people, Valerica. Not festering wounds,” Momo mumbled. “They’re real people. Even if they’ve caused a lot— yes, a lot— of undue suffering for a lot of people, myself included, stooping to their level makes us no better than them. Do we really want to start a new era of this universe built on the back of a massacre?”

Valerica’s lip twitched.

“Violence cannot always be avoided, dear. Some is necessary.”

“There’s a difference between violence and killing the gods.”

Valerica gave her a look that chilled Momo to the bone.

“You haven’t been around Morgana all this time, Momo,” she said, voice as cold and shallow as Momo had ever heard it. “She is— her soul chain— she is withering away.”

Momo’s heart stung, and her voice shivered as she said, “And I don’t think—no, look, I know killing the gods won’t fix that. Morgana made the gods, Valerica. She made Kyros to be her friend. Her first ever friend! Kyros was who taught her how to care for something outside of herself. How to love something. She’s just— experiencing what it is to be hurt by someone you love. She doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

Valerica looked injured by that, wincing. She crossed her arms defiantly. “She does know. She just refuses to. If there ever was true love there, it was soured by his betrayal.”

“Soured, sure, but not gone,” Momo insisted. “And for as long as they stay in opposition like this, nothing is going to change. You can’t make Morgana happy by killing her enemies.”

“But why not?” Valerica screamed.

As the words left her lips, a torrent of black fire spat into the air. Momo could barely react fast enough, burning pain spreading across her right arm as the fire whipped past it and into the fields, turning the beautiful green grass behind her black as soot.

Realizing what she’d accidentally released, Valerica gave her a brief, apologetic look as Momo hugged the burnt limb to her body, but Valerica was still furious, her eyes burning the brightest red Momo had ever witnessed. She knew those crimson orbs were supposed to evoke terror, but Momo saw nothing but a hurt, feral animal. A fox sitting in a trap.

“Valerica…” Momo whispered, stepping toward her. She ignored the flaring pain in her arm. It would fade with time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

For every step Momo took toward her, Valerica took a step back. She uncaringly elbowed through the confused demons, biting down on her wobbling lip.

“I am not upset. I am— I am indignant. You do not know Morgana like I do, Momo. You have known her for but a moment. I have known her my entire life. Ever since I was a child, an exile from my village, on the road at nine years old, I’ve known Morgana. Kyros be damned, she was my first friend,” Valerica spat. “She taught me everything I know. She taught me everything that I taught you. That when people make us feel small, we step on them with our heel, and squash them like insects. Then we build a better world off their cracked spines. It’s simple. It works.”

Valerica’s entire body was trembling, and with an exasperated huff, she began to float off the ground, green smoke coalescing by her feet and propelling her upward. Momo flourished her wings, intending to follow her as far as she’d go, to the heavens and beyond.

“That’s not what you taught me,” Momo shouted as they rose.

“Momo, don’t insult my intelligence,” Valerica scowled. “It is what I taught you.”

Momo shook her head. The wind rushed past, but she screamed over it.

“Sometimes people teach us different things with their actions than their words.”

“Oh, do they?” Valerica spat. “And what did I teach you, then?”

Momo flew upward, following Valerica’s ascent. They began to spiral higher and higher, over treetops, then mountain peaks, before finally soaring through puffs of white and circling the tops of the clouds. The whole time Momo could feel Valerica burying further into herself, her arms wrapping around her middle, the green smoke coalescing around her like a protective shield. She had never seen her so withdrawn.

This far up, the air was as cold as ice. It chilled the burn on her arm, numbing her entire body. It also took some of the fire out of both their sails, hitting like cinder blocks on their lungs, and Valerica came to a slow halt in the air, chest heaving up and down. Momo took the opportunity to close the distance between them, snatching Valerica’s hand into her own.

“When you spared Nia, when you spared Vivienne, when you spared Sera,” Momo said, squeezing her ice cold hand, refusing to let go even as Valerica tried to escape her grip. “You taught me mercy. When I watched you care for each member of Morgana’s Dawn like they were all your own strange, smelly, heliophobic children, you taught me responsibility. Duty. Leadership. When you took me in, you showed me that anything—anyone—can blossom when they are believed in. You showed me love, Valerica. Unconditionally.”

Valerica’s hand fell limp in Momo’s own. She stopped trying to claw it away.

Behind her, the sun wrapped around Valerica’s back like a glowing halo, outlining her silhouette. The green smoke began to dissipate, like a snake shedding its skin. In its absence, Momo could see the remnants of tears streaking down Valerica’s cheeks, leaving two wet lines on her deadly pale face. Below her furrowed brows, the woman’s red eyes had turned green again. Fury had quieted into something like sadness.

The only sound for a moment was the wind.

Valerica’s arms went limp by her sides. She choked out a sob.

“Then why isn’t that enough for Morgana?”

Momo felt all the rage in her chest die.

Viktor’s prophecies be damned.

“Oh, Valerica,” she whispered, surged forward, and took the other goddess in her arms.

***

Far below, unbeknownst to both of them, Valerica had let her control slip.

The Nightwalker’s Daze began to slowly lift, and the demons’ necks snapped upward, spotting in the sky—their captor.

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