"Did I make it sound like a choice?" Matrix said, a smirk twisting his lips.
As if on cue, the chamber door exploded inward. Frenzy and the Oracle stood in the breach, gripping the broken and battered Joey. Se'mudara and the bespectacled Ys restrained a similarly bruised Lall.
An ancient-looking god stood protectively beside the hostages, his hands shimmering with energy brushing against both of the hostages spines, poised to strike.
Scarlet Dust stood rigid, her eyes bloodshot, power threatening to erupt. But she knew such a move would be suicidal. The odds were overwhelmingly against her and she was heavily outnumbered
There was the Saint, barely containing her desire for revenge; two demigods she had recently imprisoned; the mysterious, azure-clad goddess; the old god, now brandishing a lethal grin that dwarfed even her serpentine gaze; and, of course, the World King, whose power remained a chilling enigma.
This is not looking good.
Shadows flickered in her eyes as she finally spoke, her voice tight with suppressed fury.
"I must commend your cleverness this time. You really caught me off guard. But I should have known better. You were never one for words, World King."
"Indeed," Matrix replied, his gaze unwavering. "Which is why I implore you to make your decision in five heartbeats. If you value their lives, that is."
"Fine. I'll follow you on your stupid little suicide mission. But don't blame me when you all fail," Scarlet Dust spat, her words laced with venom.
"Words are feeble, Scarlet. Give me your hand," Matrix declared, seizing her arm. He stared into her scarlet eyes and reached into the deepest recesses of his pocket dimension. A blade hummed into existence, its appearance that of a whole universe compressed into a single edge. Clouds of darkness billowed behind it as Matrix moved it toward her arm. The world seemed to pause, everyone transfixed by the relic that had ended the reign of countless gods. There was no hilt, no pointed or sharpened side. It simply was that, the god-Slaying Blade.
Scarlet Dust gulped, a primal instinct drawing her to the blade, yet also warning her of its lethal power. Any resistance, any "funny ideas," would be met with instant annihilation.
A part of the blade drove painlessly into her palm. Strangely, the wound did not heal.
"Now, repeat after me," Matrix paused, then continued calmly, fueling his voice with power.
"Ren'si, Umbr. Suimus ki:nai."*
Scarlet Dust's gaze darkened, but after a moment's hesitation, she echoed the words. Matrix nodded, then sliced open his own palm.
"Ren'si Umbr. Revin kib:enis," *he said.
They clasped forearms, and a spark ignited between them, sealing the pact.
"You can release them now," Matrix commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.
Then, turning to Awwa, he added, "Be at ease."
The tense gods released their hostages, while the menacing old man steadily morphed into a nervous-looking young man. The transformation was so complete that it was almost impossible to see any resemblance. He had formerly shapeshifted into Matrix's uncle.
"A shapeshifter?" Moyin marveled as she rushed to check on her friends, throwing daggers with her eyes at anyone who dared look her way.
*
Outside, Matrix stood staring listlessly at the miniaturized giant, who was learning to walk. Dejebi seemed to have gotten the hang of it though and was now pacing around, seemingly lost in thought.
Matrix's generals, along with the shapeshifter, stood close by, getting acquainted. Se'mudara and the Oracle were a few paces away, discussing something in hushed voices. They were waiting for Scarlet Dust to prepare for departure.
"Is she going to betray us?" Se'mudara inquired, her voice low.
"I can't tell," the Oracle replied, her gaze distant.
"Aren't you supposed to be an oracle?"
"Of course, I am. But being an oracle isn't that simple. I can only speak of the visions I have. If my sensitivity to fate grants me a hunch, I can't speak a word of it."
"Why is that?" Se'mudara asked
"To put it simply," the Oracle said, her voice soft yet firm,
"Visions contain only events that are certain to happen, regardless of circumstances. These 'hunches' of fate, however, are fickle, easily influenced by countless actions."
"Say I have a hunch that you are going to get on the World King's nerves today. Knowing that, you'd likely avoid speaking to him entirely. And that single decision could trigger unforeseen consequences down the line, like a cascade of quarrels the day after."
"Then why don't you manipulate all these possibilities in your favor?" Se'mudara asked, her brow furrowed.
"Battling fate is a futile affair. Trust me, I've tried," the Oracle said, a hint of weariness in her voice.
"It's just… you wouldn't understand."
Suddenly, a memory surfaced in Debbyr's mind, drawing her back to a time long ago.
Yes… That's the same thing the Fate King told me the other day.
She had been on the verge of death, yes, she had prayed for salvation, true. But still, learning she was a goddess all of a sudden was a whole lot to take in.
Though the memory was distant, it remained vivid. The Fate King had offered her a fruit.
"Here. This will help you regain your lost energy."
She had stared into the abysmal depths the Fate King's had for eyes eyes and retorted, "You call yourself the Fate King, yet you don't know I'm going to reject it?"
"I wouldn't be much of a Fate King if I didn't," he had replied, his voice reminiscent of a thousand whispers echoing slowly across the cosmos.
"Then why the hell did you give it to me?"
"So you can realize why you rejected it," he had answered.
"All your words never make sense," Debbyr thought now, sighing. What have I gotten myself into?
You won't understand, the Fate King's voice echoed in her memory.
At least, not yet.
It seemed, after all these years… she was finally beginning to understand.