Hell and Consequences [Alert]

It was another day in London. Months since its reconstruction, and the people were just beginning to feel comfortable with their lives. The millions that remained in homes, business and the like that were reconstructed the very day they were destroyed as if no damage had been done. Slowly a feeling of normalcy was returning, with it the kind of confidence that came with whatever measures humanity were building.

It was all a joke, really.

Erebus walked across the news set, bedecked in the black armor formed in many spiked and jagged edges. The head of an unfortunate anchorman rolled at his feet, leaving a long line of blood. His eyes were open in that same, shocked expression as when he died. Apprehending a new station between broadcasts was a simple thing, really, not that he needed their equipment for what he was planning. Dramatic effect, however, had its time and place.  Someone even had the audacity of screaming, which only made the whole affair annoying.

”Does no one really understand the beheading people thing? Screaming is not going to do anything now.” He released his aura for a moment, and they all fell to their knees, most stunned into silence and some even soiling themselves. Few mortals could handle the understanding of what he was. The sheer horror that came with it.  They were going to die anyway, it didn’t matter if they fought or not.

Now with the annoying bystanders put in their place, he snapped, a course of magic moving through the city like a synapse.  On every street, every corner, and everywhere a person might be standing a screen opened up in the air.  A large rectangular thing that projected where he was now.  

”Hello people of London!” The helmeted figure called out into the microphone, a voice far too cheery for his appearance. ”Erebus here, and this is your news at…5. Today your weathers looking sunny with a chance for rain and possible undead. You should be looking out for possible cadavers rising in your area, holy water is suggested.” A small screen was projecting a graphic behind him. Sunny, rainy and an almost cartoonish zombie animation played on it.

”Three months ago we played a little song and dance. Sadly, a glory seeking hound by the name of Ascendant decided to ruin all my fun and do the damage for me. So I thought we’d have a retry on the matter. A game for everyone alive in this city to play. You all have twelve hours, i’ll send my best and my new little toy to play with all of you. The idea is to survive however you like, no leaving the city though. Now that would be cheating.”

Any who had attempted would find that a translucent black barrier had encased the outskirts of the city. Entering was all too easy, but once they were there, they couldn’t leave.  When he said the words my toy a figure appeared beside him. A black suit with the accents dyed in a bloody crimson, neatly styled hair now messy with veins standing out as a stark black line against his pale skin. An only slightly familiar figure, one that likely had garnered much hate for the destruction of this city.

”Of course, I want to see the heroes try their best too. Fight like your lives depend on it, because they do.” With that, the horn sound reached the city and echoed through its very bones. With that time Ascendant took flight and with his flight, the streets began to buckle. Hands, decrepit and black with putrefaction, began clawing their ways from the sewers and newly formed catacombs of old London below. The death game had begun and already dozens found themselves victims of this killing.

All the while, a new counter formed in the sky began counting down.

Jack had been laying in wait for months. During the events in Las Vegas, he had been taken away by the black beast and placed into time out. As in he was literally placed outside of time. It was torturous. He had somehow displeased his boss, something he was assuredly used to by this point. The amount of patrons that Jack had screwed over or pissed off was a list long enough to rival your average phone book. But the Black Beast was different. He had to play by its rules. And while he couldn’t exactly point to the reason for his expulsion from reality, he knew he couldn’t do it again. Because next time he probably wouldn’t come back.

This time he had a babysitter. Another Scion caller Erebus. Tall dark and broody wasn’t his first pick, after all Nyx was far more his type. But at least he knew what fun looked like.

Jack grinned his malevolence as the dark overtook the city. ”Nice touch on the darkness, Erebus. I always thought London was a bit bright for my tastes.” He said, a bit of an off color joke about the notoriously dull and cloudy British weather.

He yawned and with his exhale spewed a powerful black mist across the city, which quickly began to solidify into monsters from a nightmare. Hands began to reach out all around, grabbing at ankles and clawing on their chests and legs. He giggled as blood began welling from nail raked skin. “Maybe it’s time I really let loose on you, London. I haven’t even really tested the full weight of my power.”

Jacks body began to bubble and burn with black energy. ”Lets have some fun.” The voices came out of a thousand mouths at once as he stretched and each and every limb he extended became a monstrosity.

A powerful spider the size of a sedan, a fire breathing dragon that scoured clean the land it looked upon, a lightless cage trapping hundreds inside, a soldier missing half his face mowing down all that got close, and a thousand more faces and forms.

”You like it? I call it “Phoboform: Nyarlathotep”! I’m trying to figure out how to do it outside my bubble of control here… but for now it’s enough to kill you.”

Jack laughed from his thousand mouths once more, and began his attack on London. Taking civilians in swathes.

Outside of time and space, tucked neatly into a pocket dimension on it’s own, stood the infamous wizards tower of Merlin, historys greatest wizard.  

Inside the tower, however, was a young man who was not Merlin, though he like to believe he was better dressed. Taliesin scanned through the many books the tower housed, looking for a specific one. “Come on, how come every time I come in here, the books seem to be in new spots, I swear I organized this.”  

Eventually he came across three books, grabbing them from their spot on the shelf. “Okay...” He waved his hand in the air. All three books flew open in response, each opening onto the exact pages he was looking for.  

He was sitting in his favorite reading chair, nose deep in a book about dragons when the horn was blown. It’s cry even reverberated throughout the tower, sending a cold sensation up Taliesins spine. Breifly after, the world went to hell in a handbasket.  

His biggest concern, was the broadcast sent to London.  

Erebus, the psychotic bastard, was back, and looking for round two. Except this time, he’s brought that damn hero with him, twisting his undead body and turning him into some dark spawn.  

Last time Ascendant was in London, he was the one who destroyed the city, in his ignorance. Now, he’s being manipulated by the man he tried to defeat, and god knows what twisted plans Erebus has for him.  

All Taliesin knew is that he had to get rid of him, before Erebus could unleash him on the poor souls already struggling to survive.  

But first, there was the barrier, that was trapping everyone inside, while the monster hunted them down. His first priority was to bring it down, then focus on trying to get rid of the villains.

He stopped as the viewing orb lit up, revealing the familiar multi-mouthed face of one villain in the city as well. “Damnit, of course he is there.”  Another big bad for him to deal with. He hoped other heroes were on their way, he would need them to handle the main fighting, while he focused on the spells.

The deck was stacking against him, and he was in way over his head. In the back of his head, he thought of just staying in the tower, away from all the fighting, while he grabbed a pint, continued reading his book, and waited for the whole thing to blow over.  

But people were being killed, and he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.  

He gathers to components he needed, as well as the books themselves, and packed them all in a decent sized leather satchel. “Right...” He slung the strap of the satchel over his shoulder, pulling an ornate key out of his vest pocket. “Let’s try not to die today.”  

He stepped over to a door in the tower, giving the key a good luck kiss, as he stuck it into the keyhole, turning until the door gave a click, followed by a low hum. Opening the door, Taliesin found himself standing on top of one of the skyscrapers in London, the roof access door closing behind him. He was here now, and had no way back, the barrier allowing him to enter the city, but not allowing him to leave, even with the key.  

As he looked around, he was thankful the roof was empty, not many people come up here, and the monsters were all focused on the people below.  

He wished he could help them, but he could spend days fighting the monsters, and no get anywhere. So, he pulled out one of his books, as well as six jars, each containing some item. With a piece of chalk, he began drawing out the start of a dispel ritual circle.

Deimos was a fluttering mess around his bedroom, stuffing spellbooks and what not in his bag, only halfway paying attention to what he was grabbing. Dark Arts for Dummies, Handbook to Offensive spells, Duelist’s Dictionary. Every title he could think of that was useful for a fight of any kind made its way into a messenger back to be slung around his shoulders. He didn’t even know if it’d be useful or not, but if it was going to be anything like last time he had to be prepared for momentous levels of bullshit.

It felt like the young dragon was choking on air, like he’d forgotten to swallow temporarily, dropping his books due to sweaty palms and frantic mind. The only thing Deimos wanted was to pretend nothing was happening, to let someone else deal with London. Erebus could play kickball with someone else while he stayed home and hid out in his bedroom full of books while his mom made cookies. However, he also knew that there was a lot going on stateside at the moment, he knew due to proximity there would likely be less reaction across the ocean. Last time he’d gotten hurt pretty bad, Jordan almost got killed and half of the UK population ended up dead beneath the streets.Yes he’d gotten a lot of praise for reducing the toll to only half, however in a way that didn’t make him feel that much better. Children were orphaned, families split by dirt and travesty and the economy of the UK was going to complete shit because half its work force and government officials were dead in an instant and there was nothing he could do further. Was Erebus and Jack Ass over there set to half it again or perhaps do it in for good as Deimos had no idea how to replicate what he did the first time to ‘save’ London.

Suddenly the urge to pull cards sneaks up into the young dragons mind, as much as he shoved the emotions down, it was as if the deck was forcing his to pull the box from his pocket and throw out the first three cards onto his desk. The four of swords reversed, the five of swords and the tower.

“A toppling of stability, Conflict and Catastrophe. Thanks a lot. That makes me feel so much better!” He groans before another card flies from the deck. The Knight of Pentacles. It then hit him that tonight was supposed to be date night before the world started to end and that certainly a certain Knight of Pentacles was on his way to his house. He quickly fumbles around his papers and books to find his phone before managing to get his fingers working enough.

“Hey, are you somewhere stationary and are you wearing pants?” He quickly switches from his sweatpants to his jeans, phone tucked against his cheek and his shoulder. He pauses for a second to grab a belt.

“Okay good cause we’re going to London again.” Deimos gathers his cards before putting Jordan on speaker. “Yeah, I’m getting us to London right now.” Deimos pulls a card, The Chariot, the magic pulling through the card and surrounding him with the usual sapphire shimmer associated with his magic as he felt the pull. All at once the magic dust cleared and both he and Jordan stood at the base of Big Ben.

“Okay. We’re going to have to kill Ascendant… well… kill him again. As much as it sucks I am ignoring everything else until he’s dealt with. I don’t know if a Zombie is capable of the bullshit he pulled the first time but I am not taking my chances with it. Hang on tight.” Deimos had to admit there was a lot going on. Whatever Jack had created for destructive purposes, it was working very well. He steps back aura going dark as the mage takes his draconic form, wings spreading before realizing a bit of a problem.

Erebus’s magical field would make it harder for him to camouflage into the clouds and the darkness would make his usual mural of the stars on the underside of his wings stand out like a sore thumb. The normal surprise bombing run tactics wouldn’t work here, but he could rely on out maneuvering anything between buildings and being fast as hell though. Pausing for a moment to allow Jordan onto his back he hoists himself in the air, using his secondary wingset to gain altitude much quicker and taking off at a breakneck pace before encountering an obstacle. A giant dragon causing havoc. He knew he was after Ascendant, but he just couldn’t let that thing continue it’s rampage.

He picks up the speed, jaws opening to try to be upon it before it even looks up from it’s chaos/ He was going straight for it’s throat and hoping the momentum would sent them barreling upwards and into the upper limit of the barrier. Part of him worried about ditching Jordan by accident, subconsciously doing an inventory check to make sure he still felt him as he was likely going to have to force this thing to fight him in the air.

Jordan was going to see Deimos anyway. He felt like they hadn’t seen each other in forever, which in Jordan time was only a few days at the most. Kyle and Aaron had apparently noticed and told him to just go and visit his dragon. ”I’m outside your house actually and...I have shorts? That’s good enough, right?” He was ina pair of cargo shorts and a baseball shirt,  feeling pretty pleased with how he looked.

Deimos was already talking onward, mentioning something about London and that’s when he felt the strange trumpeting horn rumble through him. Next he was standing at the foot of Big Ben, which he was not used to doing. Was this some kind of new magic that Deimos learned? Jordan blinked and looked around, eyes focusing on Deimos.

”When’d you learn to do that?” He questioned, looking around with an expression of impressed more than anything else.  So they were here to kill Ascendant? Was that the angel guy they met not too long ago here? He remembered being thrown into the atmosphere, which sucked a lot but he managed to shrug that off with a little difficulty. Aside from the losing consciousness part of things.

Looking around he could feel the sensation of magic in the air and taste it on the tip of his tongue. Something was going on, the sky dark as night though he didn’t know if it were actually late. He knew nothing about things like timezones, which made this whole situation both annoying and difficult.

”He’s not dead anymore? I didn’t know coming back to life was that easy,” Deimos was very interested in dealing with this ascendant guy because he was turning into a draconic form already.  Jordan shrugged and hopped onto his back, creating a few chains of green energy to attach himself more securely to his form. He didn’t want to fall off when he started flying all supersonic.

Even still, taking off was a sensation he couldn’t really get used to. A sudden loss of strength and the wind whipping at his face, leaving the flesh feeling a little numb from the wind pressure. A lesser person would have fallen off but he wasn’t exactly that lesser kind of person.  Holding on for dear life as they flew through the sky, a missile almost though he had a tough time keeping track of what was rushing past them.

His eyes did catch onto a dark shape that was just floating there in the sky. Jagged looking armor, almost a mockery of a super suit. Wings formed on his back, and Jordan let the momentum that Deimos had built up propel himself forward. His wings folded against his back, serving more to guide than actually maneuver him through the air.

Green energy formed into a wedge in front of him and he collided with something solid. It slammed into whatever that thing was, through a building and further until they hit the street below. Beneath him was a temporarily stunned man in what he could only describe as the suit he had seen earlier, unkempt black hair with a pale face lined with black veins. He smirked, as if realizing what was happening now.

Jordan didn’t give him a chance to react.

A massive gauntlet of green formed around his right fist and slammed down, a propelling also produced by him amplifying the damage he was  hoping to deal out.  The giant green fist came down, slamming into his face and shattering the street around him. There were some zombies, though the force alone was enough to sending them flying back to smash against any solid surfaces.

Where were the people?

”Was that all? What did I expect from pathetic nothings like you.” The voice spoke imperiously and muffled through by the massive fist that was still rested upon his face and had shattered the street around him. ”I’ll have to show you a proper punch.” Green shards scattered about the air and he was thrown, a sudden intense pain in his chest as Jordan was thrown back, skidding along the street as he turned zombies into pulp.

--

The kill count slowly went up as it projected over the city.

Erebus was mostly pleased with the outcome in general. No one running away, people running about screaming as their final moments hit. All that good stuff one expected from a typical super villain attack on a city.  Things were going well, that being until he began to feel a strange tremble across the membrane of the barrier.

What was going on? He raised a hand and  a screen appeared before his hand. Connected to an invisible eye that floated through the sky, until it focused on what appeared to be someone within a magic circle.  Was some kind of mage trying to take down his barrier?

”What do we have here? Someone trying to mess with my fun?” He frowned,  another screen appearing before him. He had a few connections, ones that allowed him to speak with Jack. ”We’ve got a little insect trying to ruin our game. Shake off that little dragon and deal with it when you can.”

If he had to act, there wouldn’t be any fun to have here. No, it would be a bloody mess for humanity that made his last act look utterly tame.

”Look, Erebus! Ascendants playmates are back!” The monstrous entity said, stretching a pumpkin head up to get a better glimpse at the dragons. ”Hope I get a chance to take out the gold one. He made you look like a chump undoing all that damage.” He laughed as another of his faces took out a school bus by swallowing it whole.

The demon sighed as he heard the order to find the gnat. ”Fine. I’ll smush the bug.” He made himself physically cohesive, taking on his normal form. He appeared behind the wizard and tapped him on the shoulder.

”Excuse me, lad. But this is a private party. I’m afraid I can’t let you break it up.” His sharpened Jack o lantern features broke, becoming a woman fairly familiar to Taliesin. Someone he no doubt saw in his nightmares. ”First ye come out as gay, now this? Ye should or yerself. Let the poor boys have their fun and we can discuss the new girl I found ye.” A second Jack stepped out from behind Taliesin’s mother. ”Ooh, mommy issues, eh? Me too! Course, my mom died when I was a baby so more like Nunny issues. You should burn her alive like I did the nuns. Very cathartic.”

As he was chanting away, he could feel the power of the spell shimmering through the barrier, as it’s own strength started to falter.  

He was doing it, he really was doing it.  

That was, until he felt a finger tap him on the shoulder.  

”Excuse me lad, but this is private property, I’m afraid I can’t let you break it up.”

The young wizard turned, seeing the familiar jack-o-lantern visage he had seen many times before, usually on TV, or through his seeing orb.  

As he was about to reply, the Eldritch Creature shifted his form, taking on the appearance of Taliesins mother, right down to her voice, and movements.  

As she berated him, like she constantly did, before finally kicking him out onto the streets, all for falling in love with another boy, he felt his hold on the ritual slip away. He knew in his mind this was just a trick, the cold-hearted bitch wouldn’t dare sully her reputation walking among the “lesser beings” as she liked to call everyone who wasn’t up to the families standards.  

“I know you’re not real...” Taliesin stood up straight, quickly regaining his composure, but his voice still shook a little as he spoke. “Me mum would never be caught dead out here with the commonfolk...” He looked over to Jack as he appeared behind the mimicry, trying to convince him to burn the copy of his mother.  

Unfortunately, the distracting had broken Taliesin concentration on the spell, and he could longer remember the words.  

If he was gonna get back to breaking the barrier, he would need to deal with Jack.  

”Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done!!”  

There was a flash of golden light off in the distance from their position, followed by a white haired figure in black appearing behind Jack, his glowing golden eyes practically burning holes into the back of his head with a glare.  

“Mad Jack...” Seraphim stated, pointing to the villain. “The deaths of countless mortals lay at your feet, their blood on your hands...” He paused, taking a step forward. “Justice has come for you, and you will pay for your sins.”

Despite the incredible speed, keeping up with what was going on was second nature to Deimos, Not a single building nor street sign so much as clipped by one of his massive wings as he circles around the top of the dome, getting a better survey and map of the city, what he didn’t expect was the strongest person he knew to get swatted away like an insolent fly. A whole new rage Deimos had never felt before flooded over him, somehow he was even more infuriated at ascending than he ever was at Erebus in some twisted way.

Erebus and Jack were at least somewhat honest about themselves, this fuck put on some kind of boy scout, destroyed an entire city and then had the audacity to die and become whatever in the fresh hell this was. He didn’t even know if he could actually kill him or not, maybe this time coming here was suicidal. Either way, some part of his instinct demanded he fight. Ascendant was an insult to his very existence, the idea of him walking away to do whatever he likes made his blood boil in a way he only experienced in the rare instances he ran into an unfriendly creature that was somewhat shaped like another dragon.

He banks hard, scales glimmering to life as he send Jordan a mental image, something akin to “<3” before he drops suddenly, coming to a shockingly graceful landing for such a large creature in between Jordan and Ascendant before blasting a torrent of radiation at deafening volumes. His claws dig into the concrete and the muscles down his legs cinch down to make him harder to move. He ducks his head down to keep his throat and lower jaw less likely to get hit than the armored scales on the top of his head and down his spine. His wings squeezed into his sides to avoid any stray punches.

Deimos knew well enough this was unlikely to do much to this awful creature, but he was hoping it was enough to buy Jordan time to get up. He knew damn well he was going to get hit and that it would hurt a hell of a lot, but he needed time to think of something. He mentally flips through all the tools in his inventory. The cards were new so they came up last in his filing cabinet of tricks. Several could work but it would require a momentary retreat and he did not feel alright leaving Jordan alone with him until he knew he was back on his feet.

Another mental image sends to Jordan of himself as a human, and another flash to show the cards that he hadn’t necessarily gotten a chance to explain to Jordan in the months since the first attack on London but he could only hope Jordan would understand something. He made a mental note to try to expand his abilities on mental communication to other dragons, words would make this much much easier. Or better yet, annoy Jordan into learning draconic.

Brilliant light flashed through the street and washed over Astaroth. The kind of heat that could melt flesh, concrete even and burned further beyond. Stray, shambling undead were caught within the blast and reduced to nothing more than smoking clouds in the air. A hand emerged from the beam, grasping at the bottom of the dragons jaw and slamming it upwards, cutting short the breath weapon and causing whatever damage doing that would cause.  

”You seem familiar wyrm.” His looked up to Deimos with a casual smirk, at inhuman speed moving forward and behind the dragon, grasping for the tail and giving a spin before hurling him into the side of a building. ”Must not be anyone special if I can’t remember you,” A hand raised as it caught a fist from Jordan, cracking the street beneath their feet, yet not causing the man to budge.

He grasped the fist and twisted, the sound of bone snapping audible and the visual of  fractured bone jutting upwards through tan flesh even more stark. Jordan growled in pain, twisting his body and bringing a kick across the fallen angels face.  His head jerked to the side, the force enough to send a boom through the air.

When he looked back there wasn’t even a bruise.

”Was that all? You’re nothing special it would seem.” He let the half dragon go and  reared back a punch which collided with his face. Freeing the top half with a spray of blood and brain matter,  also sending the man to the ground.

--

”Angels now? Talk about unoriginal here!” Jack cackled,  a sound that deepened and boomed through the entire city. A concert like the voice of the damned. ”I don’t even pay for my meals boyo. No way in whatever hell you’re going to am I paying for sins.” The mockery of a carved smile on his pumpkin head almost seemed to grow wider, illuminated by an internal fire.

”Eating you whole might make the boss man happy though. Lets try that!” A stream of flames burned from his mouth , a steam imbued with destruction itself that would wash over all flesh and reduce it to bubbling slag. This stream was followed by him seeming to form into a serpent and slither through a crack within the roof.

”Lets see if you can stop me before I kill the little wizard!”

Rooftop:  

As the fire streamed out at the Angel, Taliesin dropped to a knee, placing his hand on the rooftop. Suddenly, the rooftop between Seraphim and the stream of flame shot up into a wall of steel, blocking the path of the flame. As Jack slithered away, making his threats, the white-hot steel wall was turned back into the rooftop it was before. “Look...” Taliesin turned back to his circle, picking up the jars and shoving them back in his pack. “I gotta get someplace where I can finish this ritual, somewhere away from Jack...” He looked up to Seraphim, moving his hands into position. “Keep him busy for me.” He then suddenly vanished from the rooftop, leaving the Angel completely alone.  

Taliesin reappeared inside the upper floor of the building across from where he was, looking out the window to see Seraphim still standing there. “Sorry.” He stated to himself as he turned and moved further into the building, finding a room to slip into that had enough space for his circle, with no windows, he didn’t need them to cast his spell. He quickly got to work drawing out the circle again, placing the jars in their positions, and restarting the chants.  

Seraphim looked around for a second as the Wizard boy suddenly vanished from sight, before refocusing on his target. Jack had slipped through a crack in the roof, so Seraphim rose in the air, then smashed through the roof to the floor below, quickly scanning the area. “Jack!” He called out. “It is time to face your judgement!”  

On the Streets  

As the undead swarmed the streets, people scrambled desperately to find shelter, only to get overwhelmed by the wave of creatures. While others barricaded themselves in buildings and wherever they could find, watching the unfortunate souls being swarmed and ripped apart.  

While people fled from the monsters, one person ran towards them, moving fast enough to be nothing more than a gold and blue blur. With trained precision, chunks of undead would drop, one after another, stabbed by the golden-tipped spear of Athena. Kasondra made quick headway as she cleared one street of undead, moving on to another.  

But even with her speed and precision strikes helping her clear a decent chuck of the sector, there was still the rest of the city to clear, and it seemed the other heroes were busy with their own major threats.  

But like every battle, no role was too small, even for the daughter of Athena, and the Spear of Humanity. Her role was simple, clear the undead, get the remaining people to safety. She watched London fall up in Olympus, and she would be damned if she was gonna let it fall again.

Deimos had expected a bitch slap from hell, but somehow this was worse. Astaroth has slammed his jaw shut causing a very strange reaction within his sinuses as if he was trying to hold in a violent sneeze and that wasn’t even the worst of it, he was fairly certain at least one tooth had cracked. His own breath weapon luckily wouldn't hurt him that badly but it did leave him feeling an incredible pressure in his head behind his eyes. He lurches forward with his front claws to attempt to catch Astaroth across the midsection but he was just too fast.

Next thing the dragon knew is he was airborne, but not under his own strength but rather punted into a nearby building that crumbled around him under the weight, all but collapsing on top of him with a loud yelping trill. Such a shame, he’d done so good to avoid collateral damage thus far. The sensation of impact was odd as he’d felt the weight and pressure, however no pain for a few moments. Only that he’d tried to get back up to find his own body ignoring him. Suddenly the twilight was over has he took a deep breath and the pain in his side exploded to life and he suddenly felt like he was drowning. Deimos tries to haul himself from the rubble letting bricks and mortal fall of his side, however the side which he’d been lying on was spilling boiling dragon blood from where a rod of rebar had punched through his ribs. He coughs spilling more steaming blood from his mouth, but as far as he could tell this was from a violent bite on the inside of his cheek rather than his lung.

In a microsecond he was taking physical inventory, he could use both front legs still so if he changed forms his hands would still be of use, both hind legs were functional, his spine seemed alright but when he tried to extend his wing he found his left wing suddenly catching. He turned his head to realize a hole had been punched through one of the inner phalanges when he was down and pinned it to his side. With a sigh he snakes his head around to yank the offending rebar from his side with his teeth leaving yet another bleeding hole in his side. But at least his wing was free. Deimos had to think for a second, as much as he wanted to blast this ex-wannabe hero into oblivion, he had thrown most of what he could do at him as a dragon and ended up getting trashed anyway. Magic might be the way, but as a human if he took another hit like this the chances of ending up dead was much higher… unless he stayed glued to Jordan. He wasn’t sure how far his aura extended but Jordan’s magic should keep him pretty safe… was that why he felt like he could still fly even though one of the bones in his wings was snapped in two. He glances back to the fighting just as Astaroth blew his boyfriend's brain out of his skull. He flinches, the feeling of sinking dread overcome only by remembering that Jordan was just built differently. Still seeing Jordan’s head half way lopped off was unsettling to say the least.

An inky black aura covers the dragon momentarily as the silhouette shrinks from dragon to man, scales exchanged for skin and horns for magic. The damage appeared much worse on the mage, his wing still bloody and blood soaking his shirt from his rib. As strange as it was, Deimos finds it easier to handle injuries as a dragon than as a man, almost like the draconic form was more natural and wounds just stitched back together easier. Or perhaps it was entirely psychological. Either way, shakes it off, adrenaline burying the pain into the back of his mind as he pulls his card.

The image of a red dragon crunching its jaws down on an armored knight appears, and suddenly rotates upside down. Strength reversed. The will of reality bends to the cards to lay a curse to Astaroth, a curse of frailty. Whatever damage dealt would be taken as if he were hit twice has hard from all sources. The image of the card remained where it was signaling the curse was still active as he steps forward within range, risking getting hit, but only trusting that Jordan could hopefully intervene as a familiar azure glitter dusts from Deimos’s fingertips. A blast of the stars torrents forth just like Deimos’s breath weapon, although much weaker. It was enough to blind theoretically at first but began escalating in strength quickly.

Come on Jordan, please get up before I get my ass kicked here.

The top of his head came off, the pain was something Jordan registered but not something that put him down. That was something he’d learned ever since first discovering this strange power of his. He stumbled backwards, darkness dominating what was once sight.  Despite that and despite the immense trauma to his head Jordan found nothing stopping him from moving. So move was what he did.

His body hitched forward, fists still shrouded in that radiant almost emerald energy and slammed forward. It collided with Astaroths jaw and released a resounding crash outwards. This time enough to echo outwrads and cause his head to twist to the side. The impact felt more satisfying, despite the fact Jordan couldn’t see what had caused that increase. He3 had a feeling either Deimos did something or he grew stronger in the moment.  Either way he continued with his attack.

His opponent was caught off-guard, realizing that this actually hurt compared to the last one. Followed by more strikes, each one hurting more than the last. Going from nothing, to a bite to even actual pain. The hit that really did it for him was one straight to the nose, bone crunching and blood flowing from the poiunt of impact.

”Damn you! You were nothing before!”

Muscle and bone had begun to grow from where his head had been, rapidly regenerating in a way that was impossible really. ”Sounds like a you problem!” He exhalked hair, a thing shimmering cloud issues from the now regenerated mouth, claws raking across the scales on his arms and anm explosion resulting.  As Astaroth leapt back, Jordan was close was another kick that cracked his ribs.

He could win!

--

”Don’t exactly buy that.” The sound of Jack’s voice echoed through the room. ”Pretty sure even angels fear something.” A ponderous hm echoed throughout and yet he did not appear. Despite his inflated ego he didn’t want to risk seeing what this angel could do, not when he didn’t fully grasp his own powers yet.

”I wonder. You guys had a Lucifer didn’t you? Oh, I do love that song and dance.” So the shadows began to rise and warp around, taking a vague shape as if flowing with his thought process.

Seraphim

As the angel scanned the darkened room, he would notice the shadows shifting into unnatural forms. It was evident, even as they vanished when he attention turned to them, that Jack was playing games. His voice echoed through the room, Seraphim unable to discern where it was originating from. He smirked as the madman mocked him, judging him even. “Those are bold words, coming from a Nightmare before Christmas knock off...” If this freak wanted to try and play mind games, this particular Angel would oblige. “How tight is the leash the Black Beast has you on, must be tight, if the great Mad Jack is playing second fiddle?” He turned to see a shadow forming into the shape of another Angel, raising a brow. “Oh Angels have fear, but our faith is stronger than our fears, and that helps us overcome.” The gold in his eyes brightened as he could feel the barrier once again starting to crack and falter, meaning the mage was back on objective.  

Taliesin

The young wizard continued to chant the ritual, as the circle around him swirled with power. He could feel the spells effect taking hold. Fortunately, stopping the ritual didn’t do much to reverse what he had already done, and he was making progress. His mind locked in, one singular objective in place. He needed to break the barrier, give people more room to escape, and give the others some space to fight.  

Kasondra  

One more blocked was cleared, opening up another shelter, the British Royal Marines establishing a foothold, taking out stray undead as they created a perimeter. She smiled, feeling a surge of hope as she looked up to the sky, seeing the cracks in the dome starting to form. Someone was clearly at work trying to break it down, and that meant she needed to keep pushing, weaken the undead force enough that when the dome did come down, they wouldn’t spread out like wild fire. “Call all your men, tell them to prepare for my arrival...” She instructed the commander of the Marines in the area. “We will not fall on this day, today, we will show these monsters the true might of Olympus!!”

Deimos takes a moment to breathe. In this form he was in general a bit more mobile but it only took one solid hit to take him down for good. Sure Jordan’s aura may save him from immediate death. He extends his wing, feeling the strange feeling of bone shards gritting beneath the skin but his wing catching wind anyways. Seemed Jordan’s aura only made things work anyway, but did not nullify damage. Whatever could kill him likely wouldn’t do so immediately but if he got his skull caved in. He was pretty much bound to Jordan until it healed, and his healing factor may or may not be able to grow him a new skull.

Best not to find out.

He launches himself into the air with the intention of staying well out of this fight’s way and strike from out of immediate reach, only to find himself crossing the two hundred foot radius from Jordan. His wing buckled, pain shooting through the joins and the support of the phalanges caving into the drag, bringing him forcefully back down into the aura. He lets himself stay right on the threshold and rustles into the messenger bag full of spellbooks he’d carted with him, quickly turning to the first sticky-note tab that read “big ass fuck off spell”. As the page opens a magic circle forms around deimos, glowing a sickly purple as the magic itself crackles in a wild unnatural pattern. His hands burned with the arcana as the draconic words rolled off the tongue, gaining power with each consecutive syllable. His voice growing in volume and in echo as the spell’s arcana seems to be amplifying. Soon the circle morphs, script taking shape into three crackling orbs floating around him.

After the last fight here, he’d gotten some practice with this spell. His thoughts flashing back to the nightmare mage before realizing this didn’t quite manifest right. He didn’t remember this burning feeling, or the feeling of bliss at casting offensive spells. The scar across his chest almost seemed to be scorching into him as the magic drew at his arcana. He shakes the feeling off and with a pushing motion of his hand all three balls of crackling energy surge at Ascendant, curving around Jordan to barrage immediately following the explosion. Each orb clung to a hit target and would continue to surge shocks through the musculature of a regular human, but there was no telling what it would do to a resurrected holy flying brick. All he could hope was that the beat down Jordan was laying on, paired with the weakening of the inverted strength card was enough to make it actually hurt.

The magic was pulling at Deimos, as was the rush of adrenaline. The skin around his eyes blackening with dragon scales and the shadows of a crown of horns upon his head began to almost flicker into existence. The claws on his fingers extend like needles as he keeps whipping up spells, each more brutal than the last and the blackening of his fingers spreads down his hands. It felt almost similar to the last time he was in London, save for the odd sinking feeling in his stomach and the strangling feeling. It was like a noose pulling tighter and tighter after each spell, threatening to choke the life out him him from within.

He could breathe, he could move, he was in no pain, just feeling a sinking arcane pull.

”I won’t hear that, not from a sniveling little angel!” The voice echoed through the space as the shadows wriggled and writhed, giving themselves shape far more than illusion. ”Faith is useless! You’ll know fear soon enough, you’ll break just like that toy angel!” His cacophonous laughter an echoing sound, one that would likely sting to the ears of regular men.

The congregation of shadows paused however, as the cackling ceased too. Leaving only the distance echoing sound of screams and lamentations. Even while they fought people died. ”No, I know what you really fear angel. Yeah, this’ll be way more fun. How about we play our own game, if Erebus gets to have his.” The shadows gathering into an indistinct form ceased, melting back to their incorporeal state.

”Can you save all these people? Keep them from being butchered by what they should fear?” Suddenly the shape of Jack would form in the distance, thing dangerous looking fingers raising to the skies and swaying as if orchestrating to the sounds of screams. That was followed by something less extravagant.  A familiar form taking shape before him, fearfully and lovingly drawn from the stuff of nightmares across the omniverse.

”Can you stop yourself from killing all of these little lambs?! Let’s see angel!” The fearfully crafted Seraphim, replete in power looked to Michael with a smile and was gone in a blur. The people below however, saw nothing as heads began to be divested from their heads and some were simply ripped to pieces. [darkcolor=green]”Tik tok hero! Times wasting.”[/color] The kill counter began to increase ever rapidly above the city and Jack vanished.

Behind Taliesin with a scythe in hand aimed to remove his head.

--

Jordan could feel the body of Ascendant slowly giving way under his strikes. Each hit took more purchase than the last, as if he were growing weaker or maybe the hits were somehow just growing stronger. Either way the dragon continued to strike, drawing more and more blood in the hopes he would somehow hit him hard enough to do him in. He didn’t enjoy it, killing people and yet something told him the man before him was long since dead. No longer the person who had even destroyed London, but a long since betrayal of that person.

The spell that Deimos attached to Astaroth seemed to cause his muscles to seize, his jaw growing tight and nearly rending his tongue from his mouth.  Another moment of hesitation that gave Jordan what he needed to come around and slam the fist into his temple. Turning vision into a constellation of stars that sent the brick stumbling back.

”How...” He managed to growl, drawing upon whatever reserves he had and slamming a foot forward. The strength alone was enough to crack the street, throwing Jordan’s off his step for the briefest of seconds. ”I refuse to die, not to someone like you.” The fist came barreling forward and Jordan barely had the time to raise his arm, the construct taking the brunt of the impact. He felt the pain shoot through and even rattle his own brain around a little, followed by something crumpling under his body.

A car?

He looked down to see the mangled remains of a car that had further been smashed into the side of a building. His gauntlet used as a shield was beginning to come apart, though willing it to stay together was easy enough. ”Okay, so he’s still got some juice left.” He pushed himself off of the ruined vehicle and looked to the man who was bloodied all over the face, wiping away what had been done to him with the multitude of strikes to the face. With that much blood he was sure the guy wasn’t a zombie anyway.

”Really wishing Jordan’s dad was here right now.” Thinking back to their little spar, all he knew was the guy was fast enough to hit him before he realized it and that might have been good here. He also somehow guessed his weak spot, which was...not good for someone to know.

”Not enough...Beast I need more power!”He sounded almost made, his voice wracked with a kind of strain as he supplicated to the heavens and something answered.  A blackness that rose around him like a smoke and gathered around his fists As onyx gauntlets, jagged like obsidian and radiating a danger that even Jordan could feel. To one touched by potential like Deimos, it would sign death for anyone not holding the fragment he did.

”Fine then! Let’s fucking go!” Jordan slammed his fists together unaware of the true danger.

--

The torrents of undead roved through the street.  They sought out any living flesh they could find and ripped into it. Any who fell quickly rose to join them, the dead of London begetting even more as if they were a manner of malignant cancer spreading without concern for what damage it would cause.

A good portion of people were trying to hide in buildings, loosely barricading doors in the hopes that would dissuade the undead. Even the mages in the city could only do so much to protect the people; secrecy or not. The wards would manage to chase away some of the undead but so many were too much.

There were heroes however.

The waters beneath London rose and swept across the undead. Not simply washing them away but pressure alone ripping through rotting sinew and flesh like nothing. Roving soldiers of ice and snow, some like knights in  armor and others dire-wolves ripping into the undead. A few examples spilling into the areas where Kassondra fought in her own battle.

The one behind all of this watched the warrior with an interest. When she spoke of Olympus his interest grew even more.  What the warrior would note is a form made entirely of water, a living and moving puddle appear from the cracks within the street next to her before fully rising. ”Good to see I’m not the only one trying to save this city.” He looked human enough, maybe very early twenties in a light blue jacket and a bright red beanie only really revealing some hair peaking out from it.

”Did Olympus send you or are you here on your own?”