Words of guidance, one treading through the blackest of abyss. Resisting its tides, stifling of the air. Loneliness of greatness, willingness in pushing onward. An old friend continuously diving, trying to meet her. A mistake of the past, flying afar, his companion unable in soaring. Returning later, staying with her, incapability of getting her back above. Sorrowfulness of grandness, never ending despair. That faintest light guiding her way, constantly rising to the challenge. Agony relentlessly protruding, willingness in meeting the threat. Emotions feverishly igniting, carrying on a bit longer. High above the clouds, far above the other realms. Passing the floating platforms, those chains connecting it. In a world of nothingness, a void eternally stretching. A secret of terribleness within, screaming echoing for miles. Horrifying crying, anger, jealousy, hatred, a mixture of feelings pressing onward. All in direction towards one, that swine floating inside of the space.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Screaming throughout, pain of immensity. Those seeking what is beyond their grasp, aiming at one of the land. A heart resisting this reason, illness of sentiments. Memories forever plaguing him, efforts of uselessness. One standing above all else, cursing in living within her shadow. Tormenting emotions, gathering those pieces. Becoming a vessel for a deity, a building block to his goal. Thickening malevolence from him, electrical energy discharging. Intensifying of it, experiencing his entire being steadily coming apart. That burning far within him, those feelings blending together. That All-Father floating in front of the swine, his vision of calmness.
"Just a bit longer Reed. Then you can take your revenge upon the Nine Worlds, and especially that demon you hold so much resentment towards." Odin holding his hands behind his back.
A position of similarity, those each having a purpose of cooperation. Unknowingness of that All-Father's point, his own reason in proceeding. Mysteries locking away inside of the past, one born underneath the light of the crimson moon. Murals depicting an entity of atrociousness, a prediction by a being of old. Unwillingness in remaining in silence, opposition to the Bringer of Demise. Those words meeting the ear of the swine, one desiring revenge. Shamefulness in events of yore, that maiden of the cause. Numerous demons falling to her, those horrible memories. Powerlessness of him, that pig grinding his teeth, bearing the pain. Feeling his body tearing from the inside out, importance in proceeding. Blackness circling around, merging into his body. A pure light shining, piercing the darkness, that energy shining brighter. Rays shooting in every direction, Odin's vision onward, that ritual finally reaching its conclusion.
"AAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Deepness of desires, wanting one more than anything. Feverishly igniting, actions of deplorableness. Direction to one, yearning in surpassing a devil of the land. Tormenting feelings, enduring agony of grandness. Scars forever engraving within him, chilling of that event. Her eyes of crimson, her words shaking his core. Anger of greatness, a solution towards completing his wish of most importance. Divinity stretching far, enveloping the void of endlessness. Wings spreading, eyes of the heavens. That steadily calming force, Odin carefully resting his vision on the deity ahead. A massive dragon floating there, their pure scales. Horns of a demon, this humanoid beast.
"Good, the transmutation is a success. Fine work gathering the necessary materials to make this possible." Odin commending.
Efforts of hardness, withstanding the cruelness of the NetherWorld. Born from lowness, reaching for heights far above his own. Encountering a demon of the land, her heart of softness. Her powerful, unwillingness of her in fully using her gift. Laughableness of her reason, infuriating of her. One felling his army, a bloody field in times of old. Wanting in rising above her, finally achieving the ends in doing so. Taking a moment, gazing at his claws. Feeling countless energy flowing through him, indescribableness of it. Capability of ruling over the Nine Worlds, more than enough in doing so. Littleness of this, his real goal in returning an action from times of yore.
"With this power, I am more than capable in destroying or ruling over the Nine Worlds. Though, most of all...finally stomping that damn demon..." His fist shaking in frustration.
Vastness of his power, gathering those pieces. Each aligning to his goal, those three points of activation. Releasing the energy of an entity of grandness, becoming the vessel of Ultima. Retaining his will, hatred of greatness. Opposition to that maiden, countless years passing since his defeat of shamefulness. Beating within his chest, desiring in clashing with that young woman. Sternness of Odin's expression, expectance no less. Unpredictability of those in war, allies possibly defecting. Littleness of his options at this point, his unsettling resolve.
"Are you forgetting who gave you this power?" he harshly questions.
A tool of importance, a vessel for Ultima of essentialness. Hatred towards a devil, a point of connection. Wishing in ridding that demon from the worlds, an abomination of a birth. Difficulty in doing so, that supreme deity constantly defending her. Companions of old, a bond strongly persisting. Ruin approaching in her presence, murals depicting a being of horribleness. Memories scarring his mind, wanting in preserving his home. An obstacle in the way, that swine now a god. Gazing down at Odin, chuckling at the foolish one. Divinity and malevolence surging through his body, confidence in dictating the worlds within his image, whether it is destruction or creation.
"Old fool, you do not command me."
Grimness of his expression, unsettling of his heart. One possessing the power of an entity of powerfulness, becoming that being. Consciousness still of his own, a transformation of successfulness, yet an ending most troublesome. Coldness of that void, shaking of it. That force of the foe crushing down, immensity of his pressure. Raising his right claw above, purity taking form. Tenseness from that All-Father, witnessing the intensifying of the energy. Hastily invoking a teleportation spell, a pentagram of whiteness rapidly surrounding him. Energy racing towards that god, a plan of a failure. Whiteness shining, that power passing through. Standing outside the Tower of Eternity, within a field of flowers. Wideness of it, beauty in this time of turmoil. Those three friends standing there, gazing upward. That sky growing darker by the moment, feeling the shaking of the NetherWorld itself.
"They are here...dammit...!" frustration within Valor.
An approaching threat, one bearing great hatred towards a single demon. Wishing in surpassing her, memories scarring the mind. Shamefulness within the past, that uncaring one. Seeking what is within, emotions locking away. Terribleness of the passing time, felling her foes. Loathing the battlefield, maintaining that heart of softness. Years going by, rising once more. Walking in an abyss of loneliness, reaching for the nigh impossible. Both in opposition of one another, that maiden becoming the Bringer of Demise, ascending to the challenge. Gazing onward, frightening of this power. Wondering of hope, doubtfulness inside of her mind. A solution in place, her unsettling heart. Argent turning his attention to that young woman, witnessing her struggling in maintaining her composure. Naturalness of it, those coming against a force far above their own. Facing his direction to Valor, trying to grab a light of faintness.
"Valor, you can stop it, right?" Argent questions, uneasiness befalling him.
One capable of feats of massiveness, those years of his past. A tree of grandness forming him into existence, an entity without attachment. Finding his way in the realms, meeting enemies of greatness. Proving himself, grasping power of enormousness. Swiftness of him, a tactician of him. Countless wars of old, calmness coming. Boredom of him, that deity encountering a devil of the land. Learning from her, awareness on his limitation. Seeing her continuously finding a way, even if her strength is minuscule in comparison to her threats. A god above all else descending, in awareness on the difference in his power against that enemy. Glancing to the child, wishing in stopping this conflict. A miracle of necessity, his faith in his companion.
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"Sorry kid...but this is way beyond my power..." Tension coming over Valor.
Emotions of deepness, those seeking the nigh impossible. One of yore, capability of turning the smallest chance into an actuality. Doubtfulness of her, unwillingness in relenting. Unsettling feelings, fearfulness within. Giving up their hope, selfishness guiding her path. Naturalness of it, wanting experiences so long ago. Steadily putting together her life, picking up those pieces of herself. A trial at hand, tiring of her. Companions gazing above, distortion of the area. A Sky Tower of largeness forming, that object stretching across, circling around. Floating high, residing over the NetherWorld. Glowing of whiteness emitting, those three seeing this, feeling the immensity of their foe's power.
"For now we return to Ezel." Cyra speaks, positioning her arms in a thinking posture.
Crimson of her vision, one born underneath the light of the velvet moon. An abomination of an existence, those in opposition to her. A life of horridness inside of her home, happiness in her ventures with her old friend. Smallness of it, a bond growing over the passing time. Everything slipping out of her hands, years of anguish. Rising from the depths, reaching for her desires. One of deepness, selfishness leading her way. Grimness of currentness, resolve refusing in relenting. Her vision on the Sky Tower, unnerving of it. A strategy of properness of requirement, her strength far from enough. Those heading on their way to Ezel, chilling of the wind. Thickness of the air, flowers flowing along, a measure of essentialness for this foe.
A god above all else...I cannot even be certain if I can defeat Ultima. I am tired...I just want to rest. Still...I am close, so close...he must have an exploitable weakness. As such, I just have to find it...
The Day of Ruin amongst them, darkness of the sky. An entity of grandness, direction towards a single demon. Hearts feverishly clashing, both yearning in achieving what is within. Bringing despair, desires guiding the way. That bustling city no more, quietness of it. Emptiness of the streets, dust flowing along. Trash scattering about, sadness from it. Ryan standing outside of his bar, gazing up at the sky. His trembling vision, feeling pressure of immensity crushing down on him. Noticing movements from a distance, turning to his right. His vision upon Cyra, Valor, and Argent. Those three approaching, returning in time, possibility of something in countering this threat.
"And here I thought you woulda prevented this...what now...?" Ryan questions, uneasiness expressing from him.
Graveness descending, options of limitation. A heart choosing what is within, becoming the Bringer of Demise. A weight of heaviness, tiring of it. Wishing for an ending, pressing onward. Shakiness of her resolve, unnerving of this threat. Holding onto the faintest of hope, treading inside an abyss of loneliness. One of the heavens, a deity of deplorableness. That entity destroying the bond of her family, a reaction throughout time. Those friends standing before Ryan, that maiden thinking for a moment. Possible solutions racing through her mind, that devil pointing to the Sky Tower. Everyone shifting their attention upward, wondering on her answer.
"That tower is clearly connecting all of the Nine Worlds, which means Ultima Weapon will be standing above it. My best guess is that Reed plans to destroy everything in one attack. As a result, that will be the best place to commence genocide." Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture.
Displeasure in times of old, words ringing through. Yearning in taking her life, going to heights of massiveness. Selfishness of normalcy, those following what is within. Perspectives differing, each wanting something for themselves. A life of horribleness, binding in chains. Wings desiring to soar, a heart wishing for those happiest days again. An obstacle in her path, that enemy aiming for genocide of the Nine Worlds, direction towards one. Madness of it, extremity of the action. Memories cursing those individuals, both seeking their deepest wish. Unending sorrow, willingness in persisting.
"How long will it take for him to do that?" Ryan questions, a cold chill running down his spine.
"Given this exertion, I can take a guess at about five hours..." Valor reluctantly answering, slightly looking away.
Shaking of heaviness, roaring of the beast above. A soul refusing in giving in, vision setting upon a solution. Horridness of old, building blocks towards currentness. Feelings guiding the way, death not of a release. Trials in place, surpassing six of them. Awakening to her potential, time not enough for completion. Essentialness in resisting, a deity above Valor. Nerve wrecking of it, chilling of the surroundings. Those unable in meeting a power of similarity, one capable of rising to this challenge. That maiden deeply thinking, a joint effort of their best hope. Disgusting of it, yet another choice not of an option.
"Valor...gather the gods, this cannot be done alone..." Cyra looking away, biting her lower lip in frustration.
Those at the center of this chaos, the reason linking together her sorrow. One entering into her life, a child of unawareness. An illness setting upon her, equivalence from her mother. That one of smallness recovering, a rift forming between a father and daughter. Torment never ending, those rejecting a bond between two of differing realms. Obsessiveness of a Tyrant, falling into despair. One action of terribleness leading to numerous misfortune, that devil wanting in silencing The All-Father. Her hatred for those with him, yet incapability of refusing. Sickening of it, another way not of existence. Necessity in putting aside their differences for now, survival of importance.
"I guess that will be our best chance, alright, I'm on it." He agrees, folding his arms.
Those of differing realms, feelings carrying over time. Messages engraving inside, simpleness of the encounter. Gratefulness for it, regretfulness eventually reaching. A story reflecting another, wanting in claiming those times of pleasure again. An enemy of powerfulness upon them, cooperation of essentialness. High above the clouds, in a realm far from those below. Rocky platforms connecting through chains, a gate standing tall. Passing it, Asgard revealing. Inhabitants at an unrest, those looking to the palace for guidance. Terrifying winds, a lifestyle in disturbance. Within the throne room, deities gathering. Unsettling breeze, tension gripping them. That crimson carpet stretching along, pillars standing around. Windows of crystal slightly covering with malevolence, statues of the gods lining the corners. A plan of necessity, time of limitation. Gazing at one another, needing a means in stopping this. Disgust from Freya, an occurrence of deplorableness.
"This backfired big time..." Unease from Ares.
"Reed plans to destroy all of the Nine Worlds, not take it over..." Some fear in Freya's tone.
Displeasure of the devils actions, aiming in exterminating them. One rising once more, confronting the supreme deity. Memories of a mess, regaining her senses. Death taking her, returning to the living. Her power constantly growing, those of the heavens in awareness. Seeking what is within, opposing the rationality of others. An entity from times of old, capabilities of making the nigh impossible into an actuality. One born from two of differing realms, an abomination of an existence. Directing their efforts at her, a deity above all else of their solution. Grimness of currentness, Chronos looking to each of his allies. His power of enormousness, yet not enough in slowing this enemy. That god frustratingly sighing, the end of days upon them.
"What now? What do we do?" Chronos questions.
"We put our faith in Cyra."
Hearing that voice of familiarity, their attention in the direction. That armor reflecting the beliefs he so cherishes, a deity carrying a title above numerous. Efforts over the years, paving his way onward. Meeting a demon of the earth, a bond forming between them. Closeness of two, putting his faith in her hands. Trusting in her, hope in the deepest of blackness. Freya gazing at him, that god finally home. Guidance of properness no less of essentialness, Valor capable in providing it. Admiration of him, one falling into the depths. Chasing after a halfbreed, his dearest friend.
"That halfbreed? This beast was created to exterminate her and all demons, she doesn't have enough power to defeat him!" Odin swinging out his right arm.
"I am afraid Odin is right. She may be extremely powerful, but her strength does not come anywhere near Ultima's." Artemis reluctantly agreeing, slightly looking away.
Time of shortness, efforts in quelling one. Planning in using an entity of grandness, defecting of Reed. Hatred at the core, yearning in surpassing that devil of the land. Words engraving, reason in persisting. Rejection of her birth, one of highness learning of her mother. Chilling of it, a legend depicting in murals. Opposition to a goddess, her daughter carrying the resolve of both. Pitifulness from Valor, Freya turning her attention to the god. Uncertainness of her, one placing his hope in the hands of an abomination. Wanting in doing the same for everyone of the Nine Worlds, unlikeliness of victory.
"You clearly do not know her as well as I do. Even with the smallest of chance, she will grasp at it. We need to make that small possibility a reality, and the only way to do that is by joining in arms with her. We have no time for debates, let us go." Valor slightly raising his voice, swinging out his right hand.
One from times of old, capability of turning the tiniest of hope into an actuality. Those learning of her, one of the land. Secrecy of her travels, resolve most frightening. Softness of the past, pleasantness once of an actuality. A reputation carrying onward, that halfbreed sinking into the depths. Walking in an abyss of loneliness, struggling of greatness. Deepness of pain, tormenting agony. Resisting this threat, tiring of her. Those gods glancing towards each other, thinking on his words. Hopelessness of this situation, believing in Cyra of importance. A chance in existence, necessity in holding onto it.
"Alright, let's go meet with her." Chronos looking towards Valor.
"Good."