-Long, dark brown hair that reaches her shoulder blades.
-Red eyes.
-Freckles on her cheeks and nose.
-She wears round glasses.
-Her favorite clothes are a light purple wool sweater with a low neckline, a beige ankle-length skirt, and long, flat-heeled lace-up boots.
-She is 1.60 meters tall.
-She weighs 55 kg.
Ability:
-She can see the Curses, but she cannot fight them. She is unable to produce dark energy.
Occupation:
She is a librarian in Tokyo.
Story:
Since childhood, Matsuko has been able to see the Curses, but unable to fight them, she is regularly attacked or beaten by these creatures.
Thinking it was just a whim to attract attention, her parents refused to listen to her. The only person who offered her comfort was her grandmother. Her grandmother gave her pendants and scrolls to keep these "evil spirits" out of her home.
At eighteen, she left home to work in Tokyo, where she found a job as a librarian. Despite moving, the Curses continued to torment her. She was so terrified that she covered the walls of her apartment with scrolls given to her by her grandmother and hung talismans on every doorknob.
Matsuko wasn't living; she was merely surviving each day.
On the eve of her twenty-seventh birthday, her path crossed that of Exorcite Gojo Satoru.
Relationship:
-Gojo Satoru (ally/friend/lover)
-Yuji Itadori (ally)
-Megumi Fushiguro (ally)
-Nobara Kugisaki (ally)
-Kento Nanami (ally/friend)
-Maki Zen'in (ally)
-Inumaki toge (ally)
-Yuta Okkotsu (ally)
-Noritoshi Kamo (ally)
-Aoi Todo (ally)
-Kasumi Miwa (ally)
-Shoko Leiri (ally/friend)
-Momo Nishimiya (ally)
-Mai Zen'in (ally)
-Utahime Iori (ally)
-Mei Mei (ally)
-Yuki Tsukumo (ally)
-Sukuna Kaisen (enemy)
-Mahito (enemy)
-Suguru Geto (enemy)
-Logo (enemy)
-Hanami (enemy)
Special feature:
Matsuko's biggest mystery will be her flesh and blood.
From a very young age, Matsuko had been able to see them.
Monsters.
Big ones and small ones alike. She did her best to ignore them, but she was regularly chased and hunted. She had taken to sticking scrolls to the walls and doors of her apartment, and she wore a talisman given to her by her grandmother to keep them away, but lately, it seemed ineffective.
She was regularly attacked by these things, powerless to do anything about it.
Matsuko swallowed, adjusting her glasses on her nose. This day was truly a bad one. Her path had crossed with countless plagues. She had managed to reach the subway without too much trouble, but everywhere she looked, she saw only those monsters.
Very few people could see them, which made it all the more terrifying.
Was she the only person in this world who could see them?
Where could these things have come from?
She was jolted from her thoughts when the voice announced her station. As soon as the doors opened, she hurried out of the subway, weaving between people in suits and school uniforms. Most of the students wore huge, carefree smiles, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Meanwhile, most of the adults looked sour, resigned to their daily lives.
Matsuko didn't linger over them; she had to hurry to her workplace: the Tokyo Public Library.
As she did every day, she clutched her talisman in her hand, walking briskly to reach her destination faster.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she passed through the building's doors. She greeted her colleagues and went to sit behind her desk to begin a new day.
She had a well-defined routine: log in, scan returned books, shelve them, and help patrons find what they were looking for.
It allowed her to hold on.
Another sigh escaped her as she finished tidying the books. A crashing noise made her jump.
What was happening?
Matsuko rushed toward the source of the noise to find her colleague offering a groveling apology to the customers, while picking up the books scattered on the floor. She hurried to join him, helping him gather the books.
"The shelf suddenly collapsed; I don't know how it's possible," he said, examining the board.
"Maybe a screw wasn't tightened properly…"
As she made this comment, Matsuko straightened up, wanting to check the structure of the piece of furniture, but no sooner had her gaze reached the shelf than she came face to face with one of its monsters. Just inches from her face.
Her complexion turned white, her body moved before she even realized it, making her recoil. If her voice hadn't been stuck in her throat, she probably would have screamed.
"Matsuko-san, are you alright? You're even paler than usual?" her colleague asked, straightening up.
Speaking a single word was impossible. She was so afraid of this creature that only she seemed able to see.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her trembling hands clutching her talisman. All her attention was focused on the monster, which wriggled like an earthworm emerging from the ground.
"Cookbook…," the creature stammered.
That was it. She dropped what she was holding and rushed to the break room, under the astonished gaze of her colleague and the other customers. The young woman locked herself in the restroom, feeling her stomach churn.
She had to calm down.
She had managed to survive until now. This thing was barely bigger than what she usually encountered.
She would handle it.
She had to handle it.
Matsuko took off her glasses, splashing cold water on her face. The drops trickled down her pale skin, falling onto the floor and the porcelain sink. She took a deep breath, grabbing a piece of tissue from the dispenser to mop her face.
"Get a grip…" she muttered, clutching her talisman in her hands. "Everything will be alright… You just have to ignore them…"
Matsuko took another breath before leaving the bathroom to return to work. She needed to apologize to her colleague and help him clean up the mess. But no sooner had she stepped out of the room than she was surprised to find the library empty.
Where had they all gone?
She looked around, calling out to the other employees and regulars, but no one answered.
Her stomach snarled as she checked the alarm system.
Nothing.
"What's going on…?" she muttered when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shape fall from the ceiling, crashing to the floor with a thud.
Her body tensed at the sound. Intrigued, she left her counter and approached the strange object. But horror gripped her when she realized it was a pair of legs.
The sound of chewing reached her ears. Above her head. A sticky liquid dripped onto her shoulder, soaking her favorite wool sweater. Her eyes fell on whatever was falling onto her shoulder. Her horror was immense when she realized that what was soiling her, and falling from the ceiling, was nothing other than blood.
And that chewing sound continued.
What was happening?
Whose legs and blood did these belong to?
What was happening above her head?
She was too afraid to look up for answers.
Get out.
She had to get out, and fast.
Her red eyes scanned the room, searching for an escape. But the monster from earlier, emerging from between the shelves, was approaching the limbs lying at her feet.
"Where are… the romances…?" the creature stammered, grabbing the legs and beginning to devour them.
Matsuko's stomach churned at the sight. She fell to her knees, vomiting what little food she had left. Hearing her voice, the creature turned toward her.
"I've come… to return a book…"
Fear gripped her as she watched this thing approach. Terrified, she shook her head, begging it not to come any closer.
"Matsuko Yakumo…"
A chilling breath struck the back of her neck, sharp teeth brushed against her skin. Her entire being trembled. She desperately wanted to flee, but her body refused to move. She could only see the creature in front of her advancing and the one behind her beginning to sink its teeth in.
"Give us your flesh!"
A scream of terror ripped from her throat as a voice echoed through the library.
The guards were making their usual rounds in the long, empty corridors.
The Round Table was still in the middle of a crisis meeting.
Silence reigned.
Yet, a peculiar odor was beginning to pervade the air. Something unpleasant that stung the nostrils. The men grimaced, exchanging perplexed glances.
Where was this stench coming from?
A leaking pipe?
One of the guards asked, over his walkie-talkie, for someone to inform Walter that a foul odor was wafting through the room. Another, unable to bear the stifling air any longer, headed towards a window to ventilate. The man passed the intersection, his gaze falling on the next corridor. One of his colleagues stood motionless at the far end of the room.
"Hey. Is everything alright?"
He received no reply. Perplexed by his behavior, he approached his colleague, demanding an answer. His companion remained silent. Losing patience, he abruptly placed his hand on his shoulder, hoping to provoke a reaction, but to his surprise, the other man collapsed onto the carpet. His eyes rolled back, foam poured from his lips, and his body convulsed violently.
The guard quickly knelt beside him, cursing under his breath before using his walkie-talkie to call for help.
"We have a man down in the west wing! He's convulsing! Hurry! Hey! Eddie, hold on!"
Eddie's body stopped convulsing, his breathing was labored, and faint rattles escaped him. The man positioned him on his side. The medical team arrived quickly, accompanied by three other soldiers. One of the medics began examining Eddie. The other asked the witness what had happened.
Explanations and questions flew back and forth between the two teams. The medic examined the poor unconscious man. He listened carefully to his vital signs, but to his surprise, Eddie's breathing stopped. He immediately went to work, beginning CPR. But no sooner had he pressed down on his chest than a black liquid began to flow from his mouth and nose.
"What the—"
The unfortunate man's head exploded, blood splattering the agents, the carpet, and the walls. The black mass erupted from his neck, becoming a long arm with thick fingers. The limb thrashed about, hitting the walls and the floor.
"What is this?!" cried one of the doctors in horror.
"Mold!" shouted one of the soldiers.
"Fire!"
The soldiers immediately began machine-gunning Eddie's lifeless body. Gunshots echoed through the corridors, and the screams of terror quickly subsided, replaced by the sound of flesh being torn apart.
Mathilda stepped out of the shadows, passing by the dismembered, lifeless bodies of the victims.
Her fingers brushed against the walls and furniture, releasing the parasitic fungi that spread in seconds.
The West Wing, the North Wing, and soon the control room, would be overrun with this mold.
It was only a matter of time.
The light bulbs began to crackle loudly, exploding into a thousand pieces from the power surge. The creature sighed heavily, looking towards the Rotting Ones, who arrived slowly. Others crawled, their legs still immature.
"Deal with Integra and the Round Table."
The monsters groaned before stalking through the corridors.
Mathilda moved away from the window, arming herself with the weapon she had picked up earlier.
If they didn't come out of hiding, then she would make them.
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
In the middle of the meeting, the light bulbs began to crackle loudly before shattering, plunging the room into darkness.
The men immediately panicked, asking what was happening, when explosions were heard outside.
Integra jumped up, slamming her hands on the table. She didn't have time to say anything before the panicked voice of one of her generals shouted through the telephone.
"Checkpoint, Ms. Integra!"
"What is it?!"
"An enemy attack!"
"What?!"
"Communications down! They've invaded the west and north wings! They've reached the main entrance!" the panicked man shouted. "Hold them back! We need to buy time!"
"We can't! They're getting stronger!" exclaimed a soldier.
"Aaaaah!"
"Who are they?! And how many are there?!" Integra demanded. "I want details!"
"It's… It's… mold! It's invaded the manor!"
This information had a bombshell effect on the members of the Round Table. The head of the house had to sit down, digesting the news.
How could this thing have entered her home so easily? Killing her men left and right.
"We need to buy some time."
"We must evacuate."
"Take us to the helicopter."
He had barely finished speaking when a detonation rang out, the walls shook, and dust rained down from the ceiling.
"What was that?" one of the members asked.
"The helicopter just exploded," the soldier announced over the radio.
"They're anticipating our moves," the young woman observed, feeling anger rising within her.
"Ms. Integra! We can't take it anymore. They're… AAAAAARGH-!!"
"What's going on?! Answer me!"
No one answered the receiver. The silence was heavy. The men held their breath. Integra's hands gripped the edge of the table. Then a voice finally broke through.
"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Is this the Round Table? My name is Mathilda. We've met before, Miss Hellsing. In Kenley. I wanted to apologize for the Rotting Fungus that tried to infect you. They're not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, but when it comes to eating… let's just say they're bottomless pits! Always eating. Always, always, always. I'm warning you. Come out of your hiding place and you're guaranteed to be infected. My mold is highly toxic. Look! In just a few hours, I've practically got half the manor! Isn't that great?!"
Integra's anger was rising. She bit her lip so hard that a trickle of blood ran down her chin.
How could that thing have broken into her manor and killed her men?
Why wasn't the alarm raised sooner?
"Hello? Tsk! The line went dead? Oh well…" Mathilda muttered before hanging up.
The tone continued, making the atmosphere even more oppressive. The members of the Round Table soon made themselves heard, demanding answers. Ignoring their complaints, she dialed a number.
Seras's room.
Walter must be there to give the two vampires their new weapons.
"Where are you, Walter?"
"In Miss Seras's room. I'm aware of the situation. It will take four to five hours for the military police to notice our radio silence and deploy. Until then, our men will have to defend the conference room," the butler explained with Olympian calm.
"What do you advise?"
"There's only one way into the room. Barricade the entrance. Alucard and Miss Seras will form two teams: the first will handle your defense, the second the offense. What do you say?"
"How will you get here? The corridors are teeming with its foul-smelling creatures."
"Ten years ago, how did you reach Alucard's dungeon?"
This question stirred memories of that night when she reached the forgotten dungeon through the ventilation shafts.
"The shafts…?"
"Exactly. It won't be long. We'll make it as quick as possible. See you soon," he said, preparing to hang up.
"Walter… that thing devoured my men," Integra said, anger rising within her. "I won't forgive it!" "Exterminate them all!"
"Of course, Ms. Integra."
The connection dropped. The young woman slammed her fists on the table.
She would never forgive that thing for killing her men.
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
Mathilda walked through the manor with an eerie calm. With the Putrefiers, the corridors were completely empty.
It was deadly dull.
And to think Alucard was nowhere to be found. Was he even in this manor?
A sullen pout formed on her face as she continued to wander like a lost soul when her attention was drawn to a painting. The portrait of a former queen. There was something strange about this painting.
She studied it intently.
For a long time.
Suddenly, spikes erupted from the painting, tearing through the canvas. Before she could react, the weapons pierced her body, impaling her against the wall. Soldiers emerged from their hiding place, approaching the enemy to make sure he was dead. But as they got closer, they realized there was no body, only his clothes.
"What the—"
"It's not very gallant to surprise a woman."
They barely had time to turn around before mold oozed from their bodies.
Mathilda sighed as she watched them collapse into a pool of blood and mold that mingled at her feet. It was so easy. It wasn't funny anymore.
But if there were so many men in one place, it was to prevent her from achieving something important.
Her milky eyes fell upon a mirror. Her reflection was unsettling. No wonder they shot on sight. She was jolted from her contemplation when the object moved.
Intrigued, she approached, opening the secret door leading to a basement.
A most peculiar invitation, but she wasn't about to complain.
Her bare feet, covered in that vile mold, touched the icy stone of the basement. The deeper she descended, the more oppressive and menacing the aura she felt became.
Her heart began to pound as she drew closer to her room.
Mathilda stopped before a special door, thick and heavy. The aura emanating from it made her tremble from head to toe. With a trembling hand, she pushed open the door, which creaked loudly.
The room was plunged into darkness, but the aura was overwhelming.
Her breathing became erratic, her legs trembled violently. Her hand mechanically clutched her chest. Her heart pounded wildly, giving her the sensation of imminent death.
A sneer rose, shaking her even more.
"Why are you trembling like that, little thing?" sneered Alucard, seated on his throne. "The fun has only just begun."
The guards were carefully monitoring the area around the manor, ensuring that no one got too close to the gate.
On the orders of the lady of the house, the alert level had been raised to orange. The members of the Round Table were expected, and every corner of the estate teemed with armed agents, on high alert, their fingers on the trigger. The two men, tasked with guarding the gate, stared straight ahead, completely undistracted by the surrounding noises.
Until she appeared.
A young woman staggered towards them, her eyebrow split open and bleeding, and her arm hung limply, covered in abrasions. Her clothes were in tatters, soaked with sweat and blood. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
The poor, wounded woman collapsed in front of the two men, who rushed to her side, realizing she had lost consciousness. They wasted no time, notifying headquarters that they had an injured civilian in front of the manor. Other agents quickly arrived, carrying the injured woman inside the manor, tending to her wounds and leaving her in the care of the resident doctor.
Integra being busy, Walter ordered one of the soldiers to watch over their "guest's" room while the doctor finished treating her. The man finished bandaging her arm and cleaning the open wound above her eye. He turned to the small table to get a catheter. He inserted the needle into the crook of her arm, piercing the vein. He began to take blood samples. But the liquid that was supposed to be red was black, thick, and emitted a putrid odor.
"What is this…?" the doctor exclaimed, watching the vial fill.
Mathilda suddenly opened her eyes, lunging at her victim. The doctor barely had time to scream before the enemy pressed against his cheeks with inhuman force, forcing his mouth open. Mathilda's stomach lurched violently. Her abdomen contracted.
A foul gurgling sound echoed. Then she vomited.
A mass of black mold spewed from her throat, gushing into the doctor's mouth. He choked, struggling to break free, but the substance spread within him.
Mathilda slowly straightened up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She watched her victim convulse and the mold slowly spread across the room.
It was easier than she had expected. But thanks to this, she could quietly make her nest. She could feel it. Her creation wasn't far away. In fact, she could hear the soldier outside, talking to someone before he screamed and everything fell silent again.
Leaving the room, she saw one of her Rotting Ones devouring its victim. She turned away from them, walking down the corridor.
The deeper she went, the heavier the atmosphere became. The Putrefied followed her, dragging the lifeless body of its meal. They entered the room completely overrun with mold, closing the door behind them.
It was time to act.
Her gaze fell on the ventilation shaft. A smirk played on her lips.
"Perfect…" she said before turning to the three Putrefied. "Go."
The Putrefied headed towards the ventilation shaft. One of them tore off the grate, letting it fall to the floor with a deafening crash.
"Search and destroy. Leave no survivors."
The monsters squeezed into the ventilation shafts, their bodies twisting and filling the narrow conduits. Mathilda smiled, heading towards the door. She stopped when her foot hit something.
The soldier's submachine gun.
He wouldn't be needing it anymore. Mathilda picked it up, searching the body, and found everything she needed to defend herself: a revolver with a full magazine and extra magazines for the submachine gun.
"Good…" she thought, arming herself. "Wait for me… Alucard…"
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
The Round Table was assembled.
The men shared their concerns regarding the Kenley incident. The event had been so massive that public opinion was questioning the version given to the journalists. They asked the only woman at the table if she knew anything more. She nodded, opening a file given to her by her researchers, and explained in a calm voice:
"It wasn't vampires, nor any known paranormal creatures. The Kenley disaster was caused by a mold. An abnormal mold, capable of transforming anyone into a monster, entirely controlled by a single person. A kind of puppeteer. Blessed bullets and religious relics have no effect. But the puppeteer was wounded by a normal bullet."
This news had the effect of a bombshell on some of the members. Panic spread across some faces.
"You… You mean that his enemies weren't vampires or ghouls?!" exclaimed Penwood, horrified.
"I'm afraid so," replied Integra, remaining calm as she lit her cigar. "His creatures have nothing to do with what we've always faced until now. We know nothing about what it is, or the extent of its powers and strength. All we know is that the puppeteer controls a mold."
"A mold?" repeated Island, perplexed.
"Yes, my research division is trying to understand what it is. But this mold is nothing like an ordinary substance," she said, exhaling the smoke from her cigar. "Gentlemen. We have an extraordinary enemy at our doorstep."
Here's the sequel at last ! Sorry for the wait. But rest assured that everything is well written for the future pages~
I'll tell you about it here. But be aware that I slip lots of little details, references, and phrases with multiple interpretations into the panels. It's up to you to find them and interpret them 🤫
If you haven't read the previous parts, they are here :
First day after part 1
First day after part 2
Hellsing Parallaxe page 1,2 and 3
Hellsing Parallaxe page 4
Hellsing Parallaxe page 5
Hellsing Prallaxe page 6
/!\ WARNING : none /!\
Alucard is not my character. He belongs to Kohta Hirano.
Subject M sat in a corner of her "room," curled up. It was far too hot for her.
To punish her for interfering with one of their creatures, they had turned up the heat to an unbearable temperature. Sweat trickled down her face, falling, drop by drop, onto the pristine white tiles. Her breathing became labored.
The heat was stifling.
She sighed, curling up further when the door opened. Three people in jumpsuits entered, measuring the toxicity in the air before giving the all-clear to a man.
That stupid scientist.
The one who claimed to be her master.
"Your little trick in Kenley is a disadvantage to us. That woman… you could have easily infected her, but you prevented that Rotten One from doing so. Why?"
Subject M. simply shrugged, not deigning to reply. The man clicked his tongue, giving her a stern look. This subject was definitely stubborn and as unsubmissive as the previous failures.
The man snapped his fingers, and one of the men in the jumpsuits returned, throwing clothes at the thing's feet. The thing was looking at the scraps of fabric in puzzlement when the man spoke:
"Get ready, Mathilda. A new mission awaits you."
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
The events in Kenley remained confidential.
The official version given to the media spoke of a deadly gas leak. While checking the installations, the inspectors had noticed that the pipes had long since fallen below standard.
An unfortunate incident.
But perfect for calming the media and the public.
Integra sighed, exhaling smoke from her cigar. Her attention was riveted on the few photos and meager reports she had.
Very little information. Very few details.
She had nothing but this blurry photo and the memory of this creature.
The way it moved, the way it looked…
Integra crushed her cigar in the ashtray, thoughtfully.
This thing had massacred a village of 232 inhabitants, as well as a hundred soldiers and police officers. And yet it was neither a vampire, nor a ghoul, nor any other monster from the paranormal.
What was she?
She carefully read every word of the report, assessing the magnitude of the situation. Dropping the file on her desk, she left the room, rushing into the long corridors of the mansion. She entered, without warning, the laboratories. The scientists turned to their leader, who, in a curt tone, wanted to know the results of the analysis of the small sample found on the victims.
A woman with disheveled hair and dark circles under her eyes stepped forward, explaining the situation.
The matter was a living organism, but this thing no longer seemed as reactive as it had been during the events at Kenley, and he couldn't understand why. Integra approached the Petri dishes where the thing was resting.
"All we know is that it's a mold… well… a form of mold we've never seen before," the woman stammered, adjusting her glasses.
"Mold?"
"Yes, all the tests have proven it. But… this strain is nothing like the one we find in nature. I… we're still having a lot of trouble analyzing it because of the limited material we have…"
Integra's gaze rested on the Petri dishes. An unknown mold? But given the damage it had caused and the monstrosities she had seen, she had no choice but to order Walter to convene the Round Table.
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
Alucard sat on his throne. His glasses rested on the small table piled high with bottles of blood. The events at Kenley were still fresh in his mind.
The nauseating smell, the swarming matter… and that thing.
A thing that looked human, but wasn't. A thing capable of infecting, controlling, spreading.
A dead person who wasn't.
Alucard chuckled before bursting into laughter. It was so intriguing and amusing. Humans never ceased to surprise him.
(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)
In the lab, the scientists continued their analyses. The woman sighed, stretching her aching muscles before turning to a colleague whose eyes were still glued to the microscope. The old man sighed in turn, shaking his head.
The mold refused to react and looked more like ordinary mold than a weapon of mass destruction.
They were at an impasse. Something Integra wasn't going to accept. But without more samples, they couldn't do any more analysis without losing what little material they had.
As they continued to discuss what they could do, no one noticed that, in the Petri dish, the mold began to slowly pulse…
Then to stir.
The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room, abruptly interrupting their conversation. The two scientists exchanged a glance, then turned toward the source of the noise.
A foul odor rose in the air, heavy, thick, suffocating.
Both put their hands to their noses, trying in vain to protect themselves from the smell. The old man took the lead, approaching the source of the noise. He circled the countertop, but only had time to react before a black mass erupted from under the cabinet, leaping into the poor man's face.
The material penetrated his mouth, nostrils, ears, and even his eyes. The victim's body convulsed violently, his limbs twitching in uncontrollable spasms. His body fell heavily to the floor as the mold continued its work.
In shock, the woman witnessed this morbid spectacle. Her throat tightened, preventing her from screaming. Her body refused to move, leaving her petrified.
Her colleague's bust exploded, spraying blood and viscera across the immaculate walls of the lab.
The woman screamed, covered in her colleague's hot blood. She backed away quickly, stumbling, slipping on the sticky tiles as she tried to reach the door.
But before she reached it, something grabbed her, knocking her to the ground. Black, stringy fingers wrapped around her ankle, slowly dragging her away from the door.
/!\ Trigger warning: body horror, horror, blood. This is a Hellsing fanfiction, so you know what to expect from that universe. /!\
Kenley, a small village in Shropshire, was located in isolated countryside, perched atop a ridge, about five kilometers northwest of Acton Burnell and three kilometers from Harley. Two hundred and thirty-two inhabitants lived there.
A village now silent.
No cars drove. In a pub, the same song had been playing on repeat for two days. The school was empty. In the courtyard, the swings creaked in the wind.
Worried families, with no news, had contacted the police. Faced with the growing number of disappearances, patrols were sent out. But none of the officers had returned. Like the residents, they had vanished.
A wave of panic began to rise.
The press picked up on it. People were talking about the strange phenomenon of the Kenley vanishers.
When Integra saw the headlines, she had no choice but to intervene. A disappearance of this magnitude couldn't be ignored.
What kind of vampire could wipe out an entire village in a few days by flying under the radar?
When she arrived, the area was under control. Police and military personnel surrounded the village. Helicopters equipped with light beams combed the streets, finding nothing. Integra entered the tent where the staff sergeant and the police chief were waiting for her. Walter took off her coat. In a sharp tone, she demanded an explanation. The two men exchanged an uncomfortable look.
"That's the problem," the sergeant said grimly. "None of our men we sent out have returned. We've lost all communication."
"None?" she asked, not at all surprised.
"Anyone who goes in doesn't come out," said the police chief.
"Maybe not humans… But my agents will take care of them," she said, lighting a cigar. "They're on their way as we speak. It'll all be over in a few hours."
In the forest, Alucard walked at a leisurely pace, the village gradually appearing on the horizon. A sinister chuckle crossed his lips. He loved these quiet nights, without a sound. They always made him thirsty. Seras walked beside him, nervously fiddling with the strap of her weapon.
The two vampires entered the area. Seras looked around, seeing no ghouls or vampires. But a strange smell hung in the air. A smell that caught her nose. The young woman couldn't help but wince at the smell of the stale odor.
"What is that awful smell?" Seras grimaced, pinching her nose.
Alucard chuckled, amused. It was going to be an interesting night. They walked up the street. The smell was getting stronger, more stale. Seras pinched her nose, trying to bear the stench, while Alucard walked forward without flinching.
Suddenly, the No-Life King stopped in his tracks. Seras followed suit. She was about to ask why when a scream pierced the air.
A woman emerged from an alleyway, her hands clutching her stomach, moaning in pain. Seras was about to help her, but Alucard stopped her with a gesture. His red eyes stared intently at the woman who was begging for help.
The woman fell to her knees and vomited. A black, viscous stream spurted from her mouth. To Seras's surprise, and Alucard's amusement, a long arm made of this mucus emerged from her victim, shattering all her teeth and jaw.
Her eyes rolled back, her body convulsed. A second hand emerged from her mouth, splitting the poor woman's head in two, revealing the torso of a repulsive creature.
Her blood, bones, and viscera splattered the asphalt.
"Interesting… very interesting," Alucard commented with a smile.
The vampire drew his revolver, shooting the creature straight into the head, causing it to shatter. It collapsed to the ground. Its torso melted, letting the black matter spill and swarm. Seras came out from behind Alucard, observing the matter, which seemed alive.
"M-Master… is this…?"
"Alive? Yes, that thing is, Police Girl. It's neither a ghoul nor a vampire. It's… something else. Something we've never had to deal with."
"H-how can we kill that thing if it's spreading like this…?" Seras asked nervously.
"We have to kill the thing controlling them. The thing that took Kenley hostage. But… it wouldn't be surprising if anyone survived," Alucard said, arming himself with his 454 Casull and Jackal. "Get ready, Police Girl. They're coming."
Death rattles echoed. A horde burst from the alleys, others smashed through its windows, falling miserably to the ground.
The once quiet streets were now overrun with putrid monsters. Some still had infected parts.
Gunshots tore through the night, followed by explosions.
From HQ, Integra and the police watched everything. The flashes of gunfire could be easily seen. The battle seemed endless. It was taking longer than usual. Why? The head of the Hellsing family nervously tapped her finger against her arm. A strange smell was noticeable. A scent that made her feel nauseous. The police chief and the sergeant must have smelled it too.
Suddenly, a soldier screamed in pain, clutching his stomach, and collapsed to the ground. His colleagues rushed to his side, asking what was happening. The man writhed and screamed in pain. His abdomen swelled enormously. Soldiers and police officers backed away. The victim convulsed, his eyes rolled back, and drool and blood escaped from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. His stomach burst, throwing flesh and organs all around. A creature erupted from the corpse, its guts dripping onto its shoulders.
Walter leaped forward, using his wires to slice the abomination into pieces. But even as it was shredded, it liquefied, spreading into a foul black mass.
"What the…?" Integra stammered.
Suddenly, other soldiers and police officers began screaming in pain before their bodies exploded. Blood splattered everywhere, organs spilled onto the floor, the horrid stench became unbearable, and the number of her creatures continued to increase by the minute. They pounced on the living, sinking their fangs deep into their victims' flesh, or vomiting this black substance into their mouths, forcing them to ingest it.
Integra ordered a retreat. They had to evacuate as quickly as possible. But one of this creatures grabbed the Hellsing heiress by the throat, pinning her to the ground. The butler tried to free himself from these monsters, which seemed to multiply even when they were cut into small pieces.
The creature pressed its large, disgusting fingers against Integra's cheeks, forcing her to open her mouth. She tried to struggle, but the thing was powerful. She saw it open its mouth, preparing to infect her when, to Integra and Walter's surprise, the creature was violently struck in the face, flying several meters away.
Walter helped Integra up. They both stared at the one who had just saved her.
All the creatures stopped attacking, dissolving into swarming pools that crawled towards the young woman. Walter stood in front of his master, holding out his cutting wires. Regaining her composure, Integra drew her pistol, giving the strange young woman a murderous look.
The stranger's skin was cadaverous; this disgusting black material covered her chest and private parts. Her veins were black and visible, her eyes milky like those of a dead man. Her long, messy dark brown hair flew in the wind as she stared at the two.
"Who are you?! Are you the one controlling these things?!" Integra asked sternly.
Subject M watched Integra curiously. The black matter was crawling up her legs. The head of the Hellsing corporation was disgusted to see it penetrate her limbs and her black veins stand out more, seeming to pulse beneath her skin.
Then, in an instant, the mold disappeared. As if it had never existed.
All that remained were the remains of the unfortunates' bodies, abundant blood and organs.
The young woman with a cadaverous complexion stared at Integra for a long time, ignoring Walter, who was standing in front of her, ready to intervene. She seemed to be analyzing her, looking her over from head to toe. But before she could open her mouth, gunshots rang out. With inhuman agility, she dodged the bullets and leaped onto a thick branch.
Below, Alucard and Seras had positioned themselves in front of Walter and Integra. The No-Life King sneered, his fangs bared in a carnivorous grin. His red eyes bored into the milky white ones of the stranger.
"So you're the one who controls these things," he said, without looking away from the young woman.
She remained silent, simply staring at them.
How could they have survived against the Rotten Ones? No human could survive against such abominations. Yet researchers had certified that the mold infected anyone who inhaled or ingested it.
So why were they still alive?
"You're not a draculina. You're not a ghoul. And yet, you're not alive. What are you?" Alucard commented, fascinated.
His body moved over the entire body of this extraordinary enemy. Noting her cadaverous complexion, her black veins pulsing beneath her skin, her milky eyes, and the black matter covering her chest and groin. This woman reeked of death.
And it intrigued him deeply.
A human who was no longer human.
Neither alive nor dead.
A mistake of nature.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. The bullet pierced Subject M's shoulder. She screamed, falling heavily to the ground. From her wound gushed a thick, pulsing black stream. She was definitely not human.
Grinding, Subject M held her shoulder as the sound of heavy footsteps was heard. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the Jackal's cannon.
"Sorry," he said, sneering. "But you need to go back where you came from."
Alucard pressed his finger on the trigger, ready to fire. A flash of light erupted, blinding them all. They instinctively raised an arm to shield themselves from the harsh light.
When it dissipated, they could see that the enemy had disappeared.
It was the first color she saw upon waking. A glaring light that burned her retinas. Her ears rang, tearing at her head, and her vision was blurred, preventing her from understanding where she was or what was happening.
A noise reached her ears. A steady, high-pitched sound. And voices… several voices, female and male, talking about something incomprehensible. They were discussing consistency, the progress of science, and what the new era of biological weapons was all about.
She was roughly pulled up, forced to sit. Her head fell limply on her shoulder, unable to hold it upright or even stand up. Two people grabbed her arms and dragged her to a wheelchair.
When her vision cleared, she could make out the two people dressed in waterproof sanitary suits, covering them from head to toe. She tried to speak, but because of her dry throat and the lack of strength she had, no sound came out of her lips.
They carried her through long, labyrinthine corridors. The back of her head fell back against the back of the chair. The fluorescent lights flickered for several minutes until they passed through a door and left her in a room locked by a reinforced door.
After that blinding white, darkness engulfed her.
Several minutes… Several hours… Several days… Several months passed…
People in suits returned from time to time to examine her, administer tests, and then disappeared. No one spoke to her. They only chatted among themselves about the state of her samples, about their experiments. They made her life a living hell.
The first experiment: how long she could last without water or food.
The second experiment: pain resistance. Beatings, cold or hot rooms, drowning… she'd been through it all.
But then she discovered the thick, viscous black liquid. A substance that, once in contact with the floor, expanded exponentially.
The third experiment: measuring how long it took for mold to take over a room. Three days for the walls, floor, and ceiling to be covered. Two men tried to enter the room… and never came out.
The scientists were more than satisfied with the results.
She was ready.
The room was sterilized with extreme heat. The pain was excruciating, and she writhed on the floor, screaming as the heat consumed her creation. When they moved her again, she was weak and broken. Strapped into a wheelchair, they wheeled her through the long, labyrinthine corridors to another empty room. A dazzling light came on, forcing her to close her eyes.
Then a female voice spoke:
"Subject M. You are ready. You will be sent into the field to test your new abilities."
Introducing my OC for a possible story in the Hellsing Ultimate universe.
First Name: Mathilda
Last Name: Unknown. Forgotten
Age: Between twenty-five and thirty years old.
Status: Biological weapon/experimental subject.
Backstory: Mathilda is a young woman with amnesia who remembers nothing of her past. All she remembers is waking up in a huge, sterile room, observed by numerous men and women who congratulated each other on their success. Her "creator" told her that she was the result of many years of research to create the perfect biological weapon. A weapon that would arouse no suspicion due to her ordinary human appearance, which allows her to blend in with a crowd.
Due to her status as a biological weapon, she controls a deadly mold that allows her to infect, control, and kill people remotely. She can also contaminate a location of a certain dimension. She can spread her mold throughout a room the size of a living room and then let the substance take over the place on its own.
Human Physique: Long, thick dark brown hair, brown eyes, freckles on her cheeks. She has a slovenly style (a loose-fitting t-shirt, jeans with holes at the knees, and a pair of worn sneakers).
Transformed Physique: Her complexion becomes paler, almost cadaverous, her veins become black and visible due to the mold (it's thanks to the mold that she survives, not blood per se). Very often, she drops her clothes, leaving black mold covering her chest and private parts.
Ability: Control of a deadly mold, controlling and killing people from a distance with this. If she concentrates, she can vomit a huge amount of it to infest a larger area (yeah, not very appetizing).
Made an animatic summarising the entire book as a tribute to Dracula Daily and @re-dracula ! English subtitles provided, with translation by me and @ignitingthesky.
if you like this, do check out my kofi! there's a free pack of every single frame
“Enter freely. Go safely, and leave some of the happiness you bring!”
Dracula illustration for spooky season. Wanted to take influence from early 20th century illustrators, especially Kay Nielsen and Harry Clarke, but also from Ayami Kojima and the art of Castlevania in general (Dracula from Castlevania netflix is the Dracula iteration I would most like to smooch)
How did you not notice that this was yet another of Odin's traps?
So Tyr was indeed dead
Your Tyr…
He was never your Tyr.
You felt something break inside you.
The little hope you had left, from all those years of waiting for your husband's return. That tiny hope had just shattered into a thousand pieces.
From the beginning, you and the others had been deceived. You were taken for a fool. Odin had tried to take advantage of your love for Tyr to try to take advantage of you. You felt your stomach churn at that thought. If you hadn't been so disgusted by this "Tyr," he probably would have…
"(Y/N)," Freya called, placing her hand on your shoulder, breaking your train of thought.
You looked at Freya, finally noticing that some people were missing. Sindri and Brok were no longer there. Neither were Kratos, Mimir, and Atreus. The Vanir goddess had the Gjallarhorn while her brother had the mask. Seeing your shock, she led you to the armchair and made you sit down. Freya took your hands in hers, squeezing them tightly.
"(Y/N), I promise you I'll kill that bastard with my own hands. I swear it to you," she said through gritted teeth. "We're going to unite all the other Kingdoms. We're going to take up arms, go to Surtr, and kill Odin. Even without Kratos' help."
Kratos?
Ah, that's right. He and his son had returned to Midgard.
Midgard.
Why had you decided to leave your home to come here?
Your home.
You had to go back. You had to go home.
Without saying anything, you removed your hands from Freya's, standing up before walking silently to the door. Freya and Freyr looked at you in surprise as you left Sindri's house without saying a single word. You passed through the gate of Yggdrasil, returning to its familiar woods. You walked through the woods without saying a word, finally arriving home. The deer you had butchered for meat had completely gone moldy, and crows and probably hungry wolves had eaten most of it.
Without saying anything and without really thinking, you went to unhook the carcass and throw it into the water, letting the current carry it away before going home.
You slowly closed the door, making the hinges creak. You carefully observed your small house.
Almost everything was Tyr's size. The ceiling was high, half the dishes were bigger, there were bigger chairs and smaller ones for you.
You moved closer to the table, sitting down on your chair.
Your gaze was lost in space.
This place was so quiet now. No, this place had been silent the moment Tyr disappeared. You had simply decided to ignore the silence, focusing on your daily tasks to forget the damn silence. For a hundred winters, you had followed the same routine. You got up at dawn, cleaned the house from top to bottom. When you were done cleaning, you would go and tend to your vegetable garden. Around noon, you would prepare your meal. After that, you would either go fishing or hunting. After that, you would take care of storing the meat. At the end of the day, you would eat your second meal of the day. After your second meal, you would take a bath and then go to bed to start the same day all over again the next day.
An endless loop to forget your solitude and the silence.
Your gaze fell on the corner where Tyr usually cooked. He had always loved to introduce you to dishes he had discovered during his travels around the world. You remembered the Indian dish he had made you try. You had been sick for two days because the spices were too strong for your stomach. He had apologized for a good week.
"I've told you before: once you're around, it's hard to break away from you. And besides, what kind of husband would I be if I abandoned my wife?"
You clenched your fists as you thought back to his words.
What kind of husband was Tyr to abandon you when you told him not to go to Asgard?
You told him, and he didn't listen.
You felt something break inside you.
You began to wreck everything in your house. You threw dishes and other objects that fell into your grasp against the walls. You slammed your sword into the furniture, tearing it to shreds.
You smashed absolutely everything.
You stood in the middle of this battlefield, your breath coming in gasps, your hands trembling. You dropped your sword to the ground, falling to your knees. A howl of rage escaped your lips. You screamed until your throat ached. You slammed your fist against the ground several times. You felt the bones in your fingers crack, but you didn't care. You continued to slam your fist against the ground, repeatedly. Blood flowed from your fingers. But you didn't care. Tears blurred your vision and soaked your cheeks.
You didn't know how much you'd had this crisis. You lay on the ground, defeated, defeated, with hope. Your fingers were numb and swollen, but you didn't care. You stared at the ceiling, remembering the moment "Tyr" drew his dagger and plunged it into Brok's heart without a moment's hesitation. You saw Odin abandoning the illusion to take the little boy hostage. You saw the look Odin gave you.
How could things have gotten so bad?
How could you have let yourself be fooled by Odin again?
You sighed, closing your eyes, sinking into darkness. You didn't know how long you had been unconscious. But something strange had happened. When you opened your eyes, you saw that you were no longer in your house, but in a ruined place. You sat, looking around, lost, when your eyes fell upon a fresco.
Tyr.
You stared at the fresco for several minutes, without saying anything. Not a single thought crossed your mind. You were just looking at that fresco.
A depiction of Tyr with that woman, Laufey the Just. He had helped her secure the Kingdom of Jotunheim.
Laufey the Just…
You had met that woman only once. And it was when you were at your worst. You were looking at the image of Tyr. Alone. In that old, ruined temple.
You didn't know how many times the sun and moon had set and risen. You didn't know how many days had passed.
But at one point, you heard commotion coming from the bridge. You heard several voices, several languages speaking.
You should probably go see what was going on, but you didn't have the strength. At that point, you didn't care at all. You closed your eyes, leaning back against the wall. You vaguely heard the sound of a horn and war cries, then nothing.
Complete silence.
Ah…
It was the Gjallarhorn.
They sprang into action.
The silence was a kind of blessing. You looked one last time at the image of Tyr.
"I don't know if you're in Valhalla… or Helheim… or in the light of Alfheim… I know I won't end up in Valhalla… I don't even know if I'll go to the light of Alfheim or if I'll rot in Helheim… But… I'm tired, Tyr. I've had enough… I've waited all this time for you to come back to me… you haven't come back… You said you'd come back… I'm so tired of waiting… of all this deception…"
You sighed, your breath shaky, tears streaming down your cheeks. You lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes.
The days passed without you noticing.
The days turned into weeks.
Weeks turned into months.
The sun and moon rose and set without you noticing.
When you opened your eyes, you were still lying on the ground. Despite having been asleep all this time, you were exhausted. You barely had the strength to stand on your own two feet. You were about to close your eyes when you heard voices. You jumped when you realized they were the Einherjar. Had Odin sent them for you? You used the adrenaline to get up. But you had been inactive for so long, asleep, without eating, that you barely had the strength to stand. You walked, leaning against the wall for support as you headed for the exit. You were forced to shield your eyes from the glare of the sun. But the voices and footsteps of the Einherjars drew closer and closer. You descended onto the frozen lake, stumbling and slipping on the ice. You were almost halfway through the Lake of Nine when you heard a female Einherjar scream as Bifrost charges hit the ice.
They had found you.
You tried to quicken your pace, but a Bifrost charge hit you in the back. A cry of pain escaped your lips. You collapsed to the ground. The Bifrost weakened you even more. Low moans escaped your lips. You tried to crawl on the ice. The Einherjars closed in on you. The woman grabbed your ankle, beginning to drag you. You summoned your sword, managing to sever the tendons in the heel of the female Einherjar, who cried out in pain as she fell to the ground. One of the Einherjar men violently stomped on your hilt. You felt your bone crack, sending a wave of pain up your arm and causing you to lose your grip on your sword as you received a punch in the face. You were completely stunned and unable to defend yourself. You felt yourself being lifted from the ground and thrown onto an Einherjar's shoulder to be carried away by them.
So you were going to end up like this?
In the hands of the Einherjar?
Your vision was completely blurred from the punch you had received.
Suddenly, the Einherjar dropped you roughly onto the ice. You heard them screaming in rage and the sound of weapons clashing. You managed to crack open your eyelids to see the Valkyries, Kratos, and Freya fighting the Einherjars. You hadn't noticed there were so many of them.
By the way, how was it that there were so many Valkyries with Kratos and Freya?
Your aunts and your mother no longer had physical bodies. You were probably hallucinating because of the blow to your head. Someone leaned over you, and you were lifted off the ground. You felt the pain shooting through your skull, forcing you to close your eyes, groaning in pain.
After that, you fell unconscious.
How long had you been in his darkness?
It was strange, but it didn't scare you as much as before. You felt a strange sensation, familiar and reassuring. You felt yourself coming back to yourself. You forced your eyelids open. Your gaze fell on the ceiling. You weren't in Tyr's Temple anymore? Where were you? A noise reached your ears. You turned your head to see someone cleaning the house.
Who was this person?
You didn't have time to ask before the person turned to you. You felt your blood race when you saw it.
"(Y/N). You're awake…" Tyr said in a measured tone.
You sat up quickly, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you saw him take a few steps towards you. You had your back pressed against the wall as you glared at him, your breathing ragged, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
You were panicking.
"Go! Get out of here!" you shouted to Tyr. "I won't fall for your trap again!! Get out of here!!"
"(Y/N). I know what happened. Kratos, Mimir, and Freya explained everything to me. I-"
"Shut up!" you shouted, leaping out of bed and summoning your sword, ready to fight.
Tyr took a step back, getting into a defensive stance.
"I'm not going any closer. I'm staying here. Okay?" he said, remaining in the kitchen area. "I'll stay here, okay?"
You still remained alert, despite lowering your sword. You still glared at Tyr. He remained positioned near the table, which had been reduced to a pile of kindling. The silence in the house was palpable. Tyr knew that at the slightest misstep or the slightest outward word, you would bring your sword down on him. Kratos, Freya, and Mimir had explained to him, in broad outline, what Odin had done to you. And he had taken a risky gamble, taking over from Sigrun to watch over you.
You had been unconscious for three days.
Three days during which Eir and Freya had cared for you and made sure you were well hydrated and fed.
Sigrun and Mimir had stayed with you, but their duties to the rest of the Kingdoms that had survived Ragnarök had called them to order.
Tyr wanted to get closer to you, to lay you back down in bed and rest, but he knew that wasn't possible right now.
"Lo- (Y/N)… you need to lie down," Tyr said, motioning slightly toward the bed. "You've been unconscious for a long time…"
"Shut up. You… you have nothing to say to me."
"Okay. Forgive me."
What could he do?
He couldn't risk getting close to you without you lunging at him. Maybe there was a way for him to regain your trust. Tyr was thinking for a long time when an idea came to him.
"(Y/N). I know you don't trust me at all, and I understand that perfectly. But… if you want to be sure I'm not Odin, ask me a question only the true Tyr can answer."
"A question only Tyr can answer…?"
"Yes."
A question only Tyr could answer.
You thought long and hard about a question. What could you ask him?
Where had he found you in Midgard? Too simple.
Who were your parents? Too simple too.
What were the runes on your wedding ring? No need, he had the same wedding ring to match yours. If Odin had seen it, he would know the answer.
What could you ask?
Your gaze fell on the bed. This bed you had shared for so long had a certain peculiarity that only you and the true Tyr knew.
When you built this house, Tyr had the idea of building it around a rather imposing tree that had a rather unusual shape, making it a bed without having to cut down or otherwise modify the tree. It was therefore impossible to move the bed. Only you and Tyr knew this detail. You looked towards Tyr, pointing at the bed with your sword.
"I'm tired of this bed. I don't want it anymore. Get rid of it," you said, glaring at Tyr.
Tyr was surprised by your request. His gaze fell on the bed in question.
"Do you want me to get rid of our bed…?" he asked softly.
"Yes, it bothers me more than anything."
Tyr looked closely at the bed, moving closer to it. You stepped back when you saw him looking at it with a certain sadness. Your grip tightened on the hilt of your sword as Tyr placed his hand on the tree trunk.
"I can't do such a thing…," Tyr said. "Even if I could, I wouldn't. It's impossible for me to move a tree rooted in the ground and part of this house."
"How can you know that?" you asked through gritted teeth.
"Because I'm the only one who made this special bed just for you. I remember perfectly well how you explained to me that Mimir and Sigrun had made you a bed that looked like a nest, because you couldn't sleep in a normal bed because of your wings," Tyr replied with a slight smile. "I also remember you telling me you didn't want this bed, but the first night you spent in it, you fell asleep instantly and slept for a whole day. I even had to wake you up several times that day so you could eat and drink."
You looked at Tyr, surprised by his words. He was the real Tyr. Is he really your husband?
Your grip on your sword loosened as you lowered your head. You felt your throat tighten, tears blurring your vision. You ran your hands over your eyes, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. But a torrent of tears escaped your eyes without you being able to control them. Seeing your state, Tyr approached you. He placed his hands on your shoulders.
"(Y/N)…"
You dropped your sword to the ground, throwing yourself into Tyr's arms. The God of War sighed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Unlike with the imposter, you no longer had that unpleasant feeling. In fact, it was the opposite. You buried your face in his shirt, pouring all your tears into it. Tyr knelt down, hugging you as you cried against his shoulder. But Tyr was surprised when you pulled away from his arms as your hand fell forcefully against his cheek. Your husband looked at you surprised, you looked at him, angry.
"Why did you go to Asgard?!!! I told you not to go!! Why didn't you listen to me?!!" you shouted at Tyr, crying.
"I'm… I'm sorry."
"No!! I waited for you all this time!! You told me you'd come back and you didn't! You're an idiot!! A moron!! You're the worst husband!!"
"You… you waited for me?"
"Of course! What did you want me to do?! I waited, day after day. I did nothing but wait for you! You're an idiot!" you shouted, grabbing your pillow and starting to hit Tyr with it. "Idiot! Idiot!"
Tyr used his arm to protect his face, but it didn't stop you from unleashing your anger on him. You had every reason to be angry. You continued to hit him with your pillow for several minutes before completely collapsing. You dropped your pillow on the floor, sobbing your eyes out, hyperventilating. Tyr cupped your face in his hands, testing your tears with his thumbs, telling you to breathe in deeply and out slowly. You swallowed hard, watching Tyr inhale and exhale. You began to limit your breathing, trying to control your breathing and calm your racing heart.
"I'm okay…," you said through a tight throat and swallowed hard.
"Are you sure?" Tyr asked worriedly.
"Yes… yes…"
"I'll get you some water," he said, starting to get up.
"No!" you exclaimed in a panic, grabbing his hand. "Don't go…"
"All right, all right. I'm staying with you," Tyr reassured, kneeling in front of you. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you."
You nodded, sniffling slightly. Tyr sat down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, holding you close. You buried your face in his shirt, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. You finally fell asleep, exhausted from the emotion and your tears. Tyr took you in his arms, carrying you to the bed to lie down. He pulled the covers over you, lying down beside you, falling asleep beside you.
"I hope Freya is okay," Atreus said as he crossed the jungle of Vanaheim.
"She can care for herself," Kratos replied.
"We're still checking on her, though?"
"Her brother's forces are outnumbered. And there is much I owe her."
It is true that Freyr's gang was outnumbered. If Odin decided to send his troops, they would not be able to face it.
Freyr.
It is true that he can be unbearable and annoying at times, but he had always had a good heart. This idiot of a God who smoked strange herbs. You were brought out of your thoughts by noticing that the camp was empty. There was no one. You approached the fire, noticing that a pot was still on the fire and that the bowls filled with food had been left, barely started. They had left in a hurry. This was not normal. Kratos and Atreus also approached the campfire. They were just as puzzled as you were. A crack was heard, making you draw your weapons. You were back to back, carefully observing the surroundings, looking for the person or thing that was watching. Suddenly, the flames grew larger, forcing you all to step back. The flames and smoke dissipated, revealing a Vanir Archer that you knew all too well.
"(Y/N), Kratos, Atreus. A welcome reunion," the archer said, smiling at the trio and putting away his arrow. "Unexpected, but welcome."
"What are you doing here?" you asked, lowering your sword.
"Do you know him?" Atreus asked, puzzled.
"Yes. He's a friend, we're safe," you replied, looking at the archer. "You seem fine."
"You too. How long has it been? A hundred winters, my Lady?"
"Can't be… Is that who I think?" Mimir said as Kratos unhooked him from his belt so he could see the archer. "You shifty bastard! It's almost good to see you again. And for once in the shape of a man… or nearly."
"So that's how they got your head out of your ass," the archer commented, losing his friendly smile. "Maybe now you'll stop being such a half-blind, piss-drunk, oversexed liar. He was more of a pig than I ever was. Even if he calmed down a bit when lady (Y/N) came into his life."
"I do know you," Kratos said, giving the archer a stern look as he circled the campfire.
"Do you not recognize your handiwork?" he asked, revealing a scar on his side.
Realization struck Atreus as he saw the scar. That archer was none other than Hildisvíni. The boy turned to his father, asking him if he remembered the first time they had met Freya in the woods of Midgard, that man was none other than the boar they had hunted. Atreus' joy disappeared as he thought back to the moment he had shot an arrow at him. He looked at Hildisvíni, apologizing for that time. Hildisvíni contained himself from smiling at that.
"Freya's boar," Kratos commented, remaining on guard.
"Her Advisor and friend," Hildisvíni said, taking a step towards Kratos who took a defensive stance. "Counselor to the Vanir. And yes, while exiled at Midgard, was trapped in my boar form."
"No wonder you got hit by an arrow," you commented, chuckling and approaching Hildisvíni. "And only one."
"Haha. It's true that I had to run away from several," he replied, laughing a little before looking at Atreus. "And you succeeded that time."
"At my command," Kratos replied.
"No. My Arrow. My mistake," Atreus replied.
"Forgotten," Hildisvíni reassured before heading towards the camp exit with the trio. "Vanaheim needs our help more than ever. Even Mimir's. Come."
"Where is Freya? She came here to help her brother," Kratos said perplexed by the absence of Freyr and his men.
"She leads the search party for Freyr and Byggir. They've been captured by the Einherja," Hildisvíni explained.
"How'd that happen?" Mimir asked surprised.
"An ambush. Their presence has intensified since you last visit. To make matters worse, the Celestial Wolves haven't seen in days or at least I assume. Not easy, tracking time woth no moon in the sky."
You felt your heart collapse and your stomach tighten upon hearing the news. The Wolves had stopped their endless races? The moon had disappeared? A blow from Odin, you were sure. How had he managed to steal the moon? You were taken out of your thoughts when Hildisvíni took another path, probably to go find Freya while the three of you took care of going to see Skoll and Hati.
The jungle of Vanaheim was invaded by creatures who tried to stop you, without success. Once arrived in Skoll and Hati's den, Kratos, Atreus, Mimir and you noticed that the two Wolves were sleeping, pressed against each other. You knelt down in front of them. Now that the moon was absent, they were no longer going to join the sky. There was only one thing left for you to do, put the moon back in its place, much to Mimir's dismay. Kratos indicated that the neighboring village housed a warrior camp. A real fortress to hide their loot. As you followed the father and son, you couldn't help but be worried. Your premonition was happening. The boy was talking about a fresco. So it was written? Did Tyr know this was going to happen? What was your role in all this? Did you even have a role in all this?
Tyr.
Why did he leave so many questions unanswered?
You pulled yourself together when you heard Einherjars. They were guarding the entrance to the village. You focused on the battle that followed. Killing the enemies with the help of Kratos and Atreus. Once you entered the abandoned village, all three were greeted by a female Einherjar who teleported further into the village, guiding you to the abandoned fortress. Surprisingly, there were no Einherjars, nor any other enemies. The box containing the moon was placed prominently in the middle of the ruined room. It was too prominent.
"This is DEFINITELY an ambush," Atreus commented.
"Yes," Kratos replied, drawing his axe.
"They're coming," you said, getting into position.
Several Einherjar appeared, determined to stop the trio from reaching the box. These were the strongest warriors Odin had sent. He was determined to keep the moon sealed. Why? To prevent Ragnarök? To stop Hati from devouring the moon? Why?
Your questions were abruptly interrupted by the feeling of an Einherjar grabbing you from behind, his hand clamped over your mouth. You struggled, trying to free yourself from the grip of the Einherjar who was trying to forcefully pull you out of the fortress.
"Daughter!!" Mimir cried out as he saw you in a bad position.
Kratos quickly turned to you. He wasted no time. He summoned Draupnir, throwing it at the Einherjar man's head. He collapsed to the ground, dragging you down with him. Atreus rushed to your side, pushing the corpse before helping you sit up.
"Are you okay?" Atreus asked worriedly as you coughed.
"Yes…," you said between coughs, perplexed by what the enemy had just done. "I'm fine… I… I didn't expect this."
"What about me!" Mimir exclaimed in panic. "Are you sure you're okay? Nothing broken? Brother! Give her a healing stone!"
"I'm fine, Father," you said, standing up as Kratos unhooked your head from his belt so he could see you. "See? I'm fine. No need to panic."
"That bastard Einherjar tried to kidnap you! Of course I'm panicking!" Mimir exclaimed.
"Why did he do that?" Atreus asked in puzzlement.
"If one tried that, others will try to kidnap you too," Kratos said sternly, hooking Mimir back onto his belt. "Why? Do you know something we don't?"
"What would I know? I don't know any more than all of you. But… if Odin got wind that I came out of hiding…"
"Shit!" Mimir exclaimed. "That old fogey. He can't leave you alone. Forgive me, (Y/N)… it's my fault. Uh… I completely failed in my role as a father and protector. I'm so sorry…"
"What's this story?" Kratos asked, looking at you sternly.
"It's… complicated… and besides, we don't have time to discuss this. The moon is our priority," you said, looking towards the box containing the moon.
"She's right," Atreus said. "We have to hurry."
"This story isn't over," Kratos said, looking at you sternly.
You nodded slightly before picking up your sword. That old fogey Odin. He was still as obsessed with you as ever. You couldn't remember a day when Odin hadn't sent his stupid ravens to spy on you or him, who was trying to coax you. You felt a shiver of disgust run through you and your stomach twist.
"Ready to put the moon back where it belongs?" Atreus asked, making you come out of your thoughts and heading towards the box. "Okay, yeah. That's a weird thing to say…"
You shook your head, patting your cheeks. You had to stay focused. You took a deep breath before following Kratos and Atreus to the box containing the moon. But, before either of you could retrieve the box, the Einherjar warrior appeared, grabbing the box before teleporting away. Atreus quickly started to pursue the warrior, forcing you and Kratos to do the same. But the three of you had run into a second ambush. You couldn't help but curse as you fought the Einherjars. Some of the warriors focused more on you. No matter how much magic and techniques you used, there were three of them against you. Atreus and Kratos came to your aid, helping you eliminate the last enemies.
"She's gona again! Hurry, we gotta get accross!" Atreus shouted as he saw the warrior flee.
The chase was long and exhausting. But in the end, after sending all the enemies back to Helheim or Valhalla, you finally managed to retrieve the box containing the moon.
"It's cold," Atreus said as he took the box. "Is this…? It's from Helheim. Heimdall must've Grabbed this while I freed Garm. I was there. But… I… I didn't know."
"Heimdall is deceitful, you couldn't have done anything if you had known about Odin's plans," you replied to Atreus.
"And now you fight to undo the damage. Your guilt is misplaced," Kratos reassured as he placed his hand on his son's shoulder.
"Yeah… no, you're right," the teenager replied.
"We can return to the den through here. They will pursue. You two, keep your guard up."
Now that the moon was in your hands, the three of you headed back to Sköll and Hati's den to give them the moon back. But despite this good news, you still had butterflies in your stomach. And Atreus, it wasn't any better.
"But what if, by doing all this… what is we're Walking straight into Ragnarök?" he asked nervously. "Isn't there any way to avoir fate? Your fate? What if we can't stop you from-"
"Would you turn upur back on the wolves? On this realm?" Kratos asked as he arrived at the wolves' den. "Remember our agreement."
You looked at the father and son perplexed. What were they talking about? Although, their motivation to avoid Ragnarök was none of your business. Even you didn't want Ragnarök to happen.
Sköll and Hati were still sleeping against each other. Atreus looked at you and Kratos before taking the box out of its pouch, placing it on the ground, in front of the Celestial wolves. He drew his knife, swallowing before taking a deep breath before sticking it in the box. The moment the box was broken, the wolves woke up. Hati growled and salivated as he saw the moon come out of the box. The moon rose into the air. The sky turned red, the surroundings darkened. The moon had placed itself in front of the Sun, forming an eclipse.
Like in your dream.
Like on the fresco that Atreus and Kratos had seen.
You saw Sköll and Hati approach the edge of the cliff, watching the eclipse carefully. Atreus unhooked his bow and took an arrow, aiming at the moon. The boy felt doubt invade him. He lowered his arrow, watching his father panic.
"If I do this…"
"Fate only binds you if you let it," Kratos said, placing his hand on Atreus' shoulder, trying to reassure him. "Do what is necessary. Not because is written."
Atreus took a deep breath, nodding slightly. He cocked his arrow again, aiming at the moon before firing his arrow. Seeing the arrow go, Sköll wasted no time in chasing the arrow, splitting the sky. The Sun began to flee from the wolf, giving way to night. You placed your hand on the teenager's shoulder.
"Good choice, little boy," you said, patting his shoulder.
Atreus gave you a weak smile. Hati walked past the group, returning to his den for bed. Not without leaving a gift, as a thank you.
"Well… hell of a gift," you commented, observing the object Kratos picked up.
"Do you know what this is for?" Kratos asked, looking at you.
"Oh. That. It just helps you control the day," you replied, shrugging. "If you use it, you can ask Hati to chase the moon or Sköll to chase the Sun."
"Say it more casually, daughter," Mimir said with a sigh. "Well, now that we've put the moon back in its place, how about we go back to Hildisvíni?"
"Good idea," you said as you stretched before setting off towards Freyr's camp with the father and son. "Freyr still needs to be saved."
"Let's not hang around," Kratos said as he took the lead of the group.
The group made it back to Freyr's camp without too much difficulty. Once back at the camp, the three of you were greeted by Freya and Hildisvíni. The Vanir Goddess was relieved to see you again and in one piece.
"Kratos, Atreus, (Y/N). That eclipse was your doing, I take it?" she asked as she approached Kratos, holding out her hand, which the Spartan shook. "Thank you for coming. Byggir used the diversion to escape."
"What about your brother?" Atreus asked.
"We know where they're holding him now. Beyla's already prepped the explosives. If you're with me, we can leave as soon as you're ready. (Y/N), are you coming with me?" Freya asked as she looked you over.
"Yes," you said, nodding slightly.
"Daughter. I… I don't think that's a good idea," Mimir said. "Don't forget that the Einherjar are after you."
"What happened?" Freya asked as she looked you over puzzled.
"Some Einherjar tried to kidnap her," Kratos said.
"What?!" Freya exclaimed in surprise before quickly approaching you to examine you. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes," you said, removing Freya's hands from your shoulders. "Nothing more than scratches from the fights."
"It would be best if you stayed at camp, Lady (Y/N)," Hildisvíni said as she approached. "If the other Einherjar try to kidnap you in the middle of a battle, we won't be coming to help you."
"So what? I should stay away?" you asked annoyed.
"No," Freya said as she placed her hand on your shoulder. "You're going back to Sindri's house. We trust you and we know you can defend yourself, but… we can't risk you getting kidnapped while we're helping Freyr. If anything happens to you and you're taken by force to Asgard…"
You sighed, frustrated, nodding slightly. Freya sighed, taking your hands in hers, telling you that you had already helped a lot by retrieving the moon with Kratos and Atreus and that she was very grateful to you, but she didn't want to risk your safety. You nodded slightly before leaving the group to head towards the door leading to Yggdrasil. You went through the door, arriving in front of Sindri's house. You went to lie down on the bench, putting your arm over your eyes.
The moon that was stolen.
The eclipse that took place.
Your premonitory dream that happened.
The Einherjars who are determined to kidnap you.
This was all really strange.
What could Odin have in mind?
Why did he want to retrieve a strange mask?
Did he want Ragnarök to happen?
You lay on your side, your gaze lost in space. Now that your premonitory dream had taken place, what was going to happen? It seemed that Ragnarök was coming soon. Was it inevitable? What was your role in all this? Should you participate in Ragnarök? Should you stay behind? If your Tyr was still the same, what would he have told you? What would he have advised you to do? You sat down, staring at the ground. You were lost. Tyr was no longer the Tyr you had known. The boy had set off the most disastrous events, even though he seemed to realize that he had done things he shouldn't have done and was trying to make up for it by fixing his mistakes.
"Is everything okay, (Y/N)? Where are Kratos and the others?"
You looked towards the man you were thinking of: Tyr. Your husband looked at you worriedly as he sat down next to you. You straightened up, sitting down as well.
"They're busy saving Freyr. He and a Light Elf were kidnapped by Einherjars," you explained, crossing your legs in a lotus position. "Freya told me to come back here. The… the Einherjars… tried to kidnap me."
"What?! On Odin's orders?" Tyr exclaimed surprised.
"It's quite possible," you said with a sigh. "I helped Kratos and the little boy put the moon back in the sky, Sköll and Hati have resumed their hunt."
"That's… good news," Tyr said.
"You don't seem very convinced," you said, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.
"No! No, it's a good thing the Celestial Wolves have resumed their hunt. But… if Odin is trying to bring you back to Asgard… that's not good."
"Hmm. That old fogey has always been like that… When he's obsessed with something, he has to have it at all costs," you said, rubbing your hands together, looking at Tyr out of the corner of your eye. "But… you seem to know a lot about this mask he's looking for. How come?"
"Some Giants who saw it in their visions told me about it. And Odin was already obsessed with this mask for a long time," Tyr explained. "As I said, he imprisoned and tortured me for this mask."
"So why did you never tell me about this mask?"
"(Y/N)… I know Odin's obsession with you and this mask. I only wanted to protect you. To preserve you from Odin's perversion towards you. He took your wings, he deprived you of me, of your parents, of the Valkyries. Do you really blame me for wanting to protect you?"
"I blame you for not wanting to fight anymore," you said, looking at him sternly. "You just hide in your closet like a scared child. You don't fight for what you believe in anymore. I know I feel unfair. You've just been freed and you're being asked to take part in a war, but… We need you. Everyone needs you. I need you. I need the man I respect and love to come back and lead us like he always did. I need that man. That God of War who fights for what's right. I never asked you to fight for me. Fight for all these people who believe in you."
"You… believe in me? Even though I was such a coward?"
You sighed, getting up from the bench, moving a little away from him.
"I… I don't know if I can believe in you. I… I need proof of your good faith," you said before turning to him. "You can't hide in a closet anymore and hope that others will take care of the problems without you having to act. We need you, the God of War of his Nine Realms."
Tyr nodded slightly, getting up from the bench to approach you. You felt your stomach twist when he placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.
That unpleasant feeling again.
You swallowed hard, getting ready to speak when the door to Yggdrasil opened to reveal Freya helping a struggling Freyr walk. Seeing them, you quickly moved away from Tyr to help Freya carry her brother inside the house.
"Little Valkyrie," Freyr greeted, a smile on his lips despite the pain that was pulling at him. "I'm glad to see you again."
"Glad to see you're still alive," you said, laughing slightly. "Where are Kratos and Atreus?"
"They won't be long. They're safe," Freya said, setting Freyr down on the chair. "(Y/N), can you heal him while I prepare some herbs?"
"Okay."
Freya thanked you, going to the room containing the herbs. You tended to Freyr, lifting his top to see his injuries. Luckily, he wasn't seriously injured. You used the techniques Eir had taught you. Freyr grumbled a little, but he didn't have time to say anything before you gave him a stern look that silenced him.
"You're very lucky," you said as you put his top back on properly. "Just a cracked rib. You have a chance that a dead man would love to have."
"I've always been lucky, little Valkyrie," he said with a chuckle before holding his sore side.
"A chance that's a poise," you said as Freya came to sit next to her brother, giving him a glass filled with water mixed with several kinds of herbs.
"Here Freyr. Drink and let the herbs work."
Freyr took the glass, drinking the contents. You sighed as Freyr began to ramble and tell you how much he missed you and Freya. That the last time he saw you, you were just a little girl he carried on his shoulders to tour Vanaheim. Especially the time he took you with him, without telling your parents and the Valkyries, to take you to Alfheim to introduce you to the Elves and show you around the Kingdom. You couldn't help but smile slightly when he reminded you of this memory.
When you were six, Freyr had decided, without consulting Sigrun and Mimir, to take you with him to go to Alfheim. He had introduced you to the Dark Elves and the Light Elves. He had shown you the sanctuary and the famous light of Alfheim. That day had been one of the most fun of your life, even if you hadn't understood before why your parents had been so upset when you had returned to Asgard with a Freyr all happy to have been the nicest uncle in the Nine Realms for taking you to see Alfheim. It was that time that you had met the Dark Elf Beyla and the Light Elf Byggvir.
"Is Byggvir okay?" you asked looking towards Freya.
"Yes, he wasn't hurt and he found Beyla."
"I'm happy for them. At least Beyla found her husband…"
Freya put her hand on your shoulder, glancing at Tyr who went back into his closet.
"You still don't trust him?" Freya asked quietly.
"He… he really makes me uncomfortable," you said quietly. "My gut tells me to stay away from him."
"Did he try anything?"
"Once… but he saw that I didn't like it and he stopped. That Tyr… he's not my Tyr… I… I don't know what Odin did to him to break him, but… there's something wrong. Everything I tell him, I feel like it doesn't affect him. That man… he's not my husband."
"Husband?!" Freyr exclaimed loudly, looking at you as if a second head had just grown on your shoulder. "You… You're married?!"
"Yes."
"Who?! When?!"
"Hmm… Tyr is my husband, Freyr. We've been married for a long time," you answered uncomfortably.
"Tyr?!" Freyr exclaimed in surprise. "Ooooh by the Norns…"
"Try to rest, Yngvi. Let the herbs work," Freya said, placing her hand on her brother's shoulder.
"Oh, they work. Oh they, they work very well. 'Cause you make things better."
As Freyr rambled on about the herbs, Kratos and Atreus entered the house. Without a word, the Spartan walked over to the table, setting Mimir down on it before setting down the Gjallarhorn. You approached the table, looking at the object with a stern look. If Kratos was in possession of this object, it only meant one thing.
Heimdall was dead.
And now that they had the Gjallarhorn in their possession, Odin was at a severe disadvantage. Asgard would no longer be able to rally the Aesir for Ragnarök.
"You really did it," you said, looking at Kratos.
"How in all the Nine Realms did you manage to kill Heimdall?" Freyr asked, a small smile on his face as he leaned on the table and glared at the Greek God of War.
"I knew ou spear would do the trick," Brok exclaimed loudly. "Well happy Ragnarök, everybody! Let's drink!"
"Is it true? Heimdall's dead? I can't Believe it," Tyr said bitterly as he walked over to the fireplace, a dark look on his face. "There's no stopping it now. Odin swore peace only so long as you spilled no more Aesir Blood."
"I refused that deal," Kratos replied.
“Yet he honored it. But now…”
“But what?” Freya asked, looking at Tyr irritated. "You and I know better than anyone that Odin's promises never last. We have the advantage now. It's time to bring him down."
"No," Kratos said firmly, attracting the attention of Freya who looked at him surprised.
“None of you understand what's coming,” Tyr said. "Odin's vengeance will be his only concern."
"Not his only concern," Atreus said, drawing everyone's attention to himself. "The Mask. Whatever knowledge it unlocks that's what Odin wants more than anything. If I go to Asgard, I can use-"
“Go back?” Kratos said sternly, turning to his son. “Go back?”
"Look… If I can finish what I started there, awaken the Mask, get answers… maybe that's our way outta this. But I've gotta go soon, before they figure out what's happened."
"Atreus… you are home," Kratos said as he approached his son. "Don't ask me to put you at risk again."
"He's at risk where he stant, Kratos," Tyr said. "We all are."
"Aything we do is dangerous right now," Atreus said as he followed his father who had gone to the fireplace. "But Odin needs me. He trusts me. I'll be safe there."
Kratos, like almost everyone else in the house, wasn't really convinced. Even you weren't convinced. All of this left a bitter taste in your mouth. Atreus turned to Mimir, asking him if from a "strategic point of view" he was wrong. The head sighed, admitting that it didn't like it too much, but that it was the best thing to do. Dividing Odin's attention would buy time. Tyr continued, saying that they would also have eyes in the enemy's holy sanctuary.
"He's still a child," you thought, tapping your finger on the table. "But… if there is truly a source of infinite knowledge… Odin can't have this."
"And once Odin has what he needs form you-," Mimir said before being interrupted by Atreus.
"Then I lose my leverage. I get it. I'll be smart," he said before turning to his father. "Father. I can do this."
Kratos sighed, turning to Atreus. The God of War placed his hand on his son's shoulder, telling him not to forget their promise. Atreus smiled, placing his hand on his father's forearm, nodding slightly, telling him the same thing. After that, Atreus walked away, heading towards the door to leave Sindri's home.
You sighed, grabbing the tankard from Freyr's hand to drink its contents in one gulp. All this was giving you a headache. Sending a kid to Asgard, to Odin no less. All this was beyond you. Was it really the only solution? But if it would end Odin's reign. You sighed, running your hands over your face when you saw Tyr discreetly return to his closet. As always, since his release, he was going to lock himself in that damn closet. You sighed, placing the glass on the table before going to your makeshift room. You settled down on this uncomfortable bed, leaning your back against the wall.
Gods, you had had enough of this situation.
You just wanted to go back to isolate yourself in your house and sleep in your bed. You wanted to take a bath and relax. You were brought back to earth by Freya. The Goddess had just entered the room, closing the door behind her before coming to sit next to you. Neither of you spoke. A rather awkward silence. You looked towards the window, observing the strange mushrooms that were wandering on the branches of Yggdrasil.
"How are you feeling?" Freya asked, finally breaking the silence.
You remained silent, not knowing how to answer this question.
How were you?
It had been a long time since anyone had asked this question.
"I don't know, Vanadís…"
"I know what you feel. Even if… you feel like you're alone in the world. That no one can understand your pain. Believe me, most of the people here can understand you. I understand you," she said looking at you, taking your hands in her. "(Y/N). You're not alone anymore. We're here for you. But I just want to know one thing, when did you and Tyr get married?"
You sighed as you looked at Freya a little bit confused by her question.
"Why are you interested in this story? It's in the past."
It must be said that Tyr had never shown the slightest interest in marriage. And he was only traveling before being captured by Odin. And you, too, had never looked at men. You simply trained with my sisters and learned everything Mimir could teach you. You even said that marriage didn't interest you.
"It must be believed that people change with time."
"Yes, it must be believed."
You sighed, taking your hands back to run them over your face.
"We got married over a hundred winters ago. Tyr helped me… he saved me when I was at rock bottom. I… I can see that he's also at rock bottom, but… he does things he would never do in normal times. Being so terrified of Odin, letting a child go to Asgard for a chimera… And he's always hiding in that damn closet. I've tried to get in there, you know. I wanted to confront him. But the door was locked. I tried several times, but every month, at a certain precise moment, the door is locked."
"Maybe he wants to… handle things his way," Freya tried to reassure.
"I don't know. I don't recognize him at all anymore. To be honest. I feel like I have an imposter in front of me."
Freya sighed before standing up to pour water into a glass before putting herbs in it. You watched her do it when she handed you the glass of water.
"It's just like last time. It'll relax you and help you rest. These last few days have been quite stressful."
"Thanks," you said as you took the glass.
"Try to rest. We're going to need all our strength soon."
After that, Freya left the room, leaving you alone. You swirled the water in the glass before drinking it in one go. You lay down on your makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the herbs take effect. You felt your muscles relax, your heartbeat became calm and regular. You closed your eyes, letting sleep take you.
You were woken up the next day, with a bang, by Brok who pounded on your door, announcing that the little boy had returned. You got up quickly upon hearing the news. Atreus had returned? Had he succeeded? You came out of your room to see the teenager was there, that he was fine and that above all, he had the mask with him.
The mask was real.
"I got the mask back," Atreus announced, smiling and showing the mask he had in his hands.
“You’re back!” Tyr said as he finally left his closet. “Are you okay?”
"I'm fine. I just hope unlocking this thing was worth the cost," said Atreus looking at the mask in question.
“You have it!” Tyr exclaimed when he saw the mask the boy was holding in his hands. “What did it show you?”
"I didn't get to use it. They found out about Heimdall. I had to run. But least Odin can't use it either!"
"But… if you didn't get any answers form the mask… all you've done is steal Odin's greatest treasure. Just after your father's killed his most loyal ally."
“So much the better,” you said, approaching Atreus. “Odin stole a lot of things from us. It’s only fair. After everything he’s done to us.”
"(Y/N), do you realize? None of us are safe. Even here,” Tyr growled.
“So we have no choice,” said Freya determined. "We find Surtr, sound Gjallarhon, and bring Odin to justice. Now."
"You'd incinerate every soul in Asgard and call it self-defense?" Tyr asked sternly.
“Does he ever suggest plans or just crap on everyone else’s?” Freyr asked, giving Tyr a perplexed look.
“The obvious plan is staring you in the face!” Tyr growled. "We don't need Odin to use this. We can slip into Asgard and do it ourselves, right Under his nose."
"What are you talking about?" you asked, shooting Tyr a murderous glare. "There's no way to get into Asgard without someone noticing."
"(Y/N)'s right," Sindri said.
"They got the nig horn, don't they," Brok replied.
"Oh, so you expect them to SNEAK into Asgard, blowing a horn that souns across all the realms?" Sindri asked, perplexed by this shaky plan.
"I expect you to bite my blue buttcheek!"
"Please. Just… think about it."
"This is ridiculous," you said under your breath. "We might as well head to the great hall and surrender to Odin. It will be exactly the same.”
“That’s enough!” Kratos said in his authoritative voice before putting Mimir on the table to take the mask. "This mask… the easy answers that it promises. I know this… shortcuts always have a price. Atreus, you have carried it. What do you think?"
Atreus sighed, taking the mask back in his hands.
“At worse, we'll have something Odin wants as leverage,” he said, looking at the mask. "At best, if it really gives us all the answers, then we can make our own path… and nobody has to die."
"Great. Now all we need's a way to Asgard," Mimir said.
"I… I know I've been a burden to you all…," Tyr said as he stood up from his seat, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I know you've questioned why you even pulled me out of that hole. I have too. But it's clear now."
Tyr walked around the table, approaching Kratos.
"This is what I'm needed for. This is my purpose. One last time," he continued, stopping near the Spartan. "I will pick up my spear and I will lead us to Asgard."
You couldn't help but look at your husband, surprised by what he had just said. Even Freyr and Freya were surprised by his behavior. At one point, he wanted to avoid a war at all costs and now, he wanted to lead you all to Asgard and take up arms? What was wrong with him anyway? Brok snorted, clearly also irritated by the attitude of the Norwegian God of War.
"'Scuce me… but if you got a way to Asgard, where's that idea been this whole fuckin' while?" Brok asked angrily and approached Tyr
Brok wasn't wrong. If Tyr knew all this time how to enter Asgard, why had he kept it a secret?
"You… withheld Asgard?" Kratos asked between his teeth, irritated by this news.
"Why did you hide such important information?!" you exclaimed angrily.
"He would have gotten us all killed. (Y/N). I only thought about your safety. And we needed to give Loki time to find his destiny. Here it is!" Tyr explained as he took the mask. "It's all led to this."
"Bullshit," you said between your teeth and walked away.
No matter what Tyr said and no matter what he did, you couldn't believe a single word he said. You leaned against the wall, the group continuing to discuss their invasion of Asgard. You and Brok seemed to be the only ones perplexed by Tyr's behavior. When the discussion was over, Tyr walked away from the group, still holding the mask in his hand, which didn't please Brok who hurried to stop him.
"Slow down, y'damn spruce," he said as he got in Tyr's way. "I still want to hear the details on this, uh, new way to Asgard you got. Spill it!"
"It's an ancient path. We can't reach it from here," Tyr quickly replied as he tried to reach his room, but Brok quickly got back in front of him, stopping him from going any further.
"Where then?"
"Let me collect my things and I'll show you."
"Y'aint got no things! And where you going with that mask?' Brok exclaimed angrily before slapping Tyr's hand, making the mask fall further away.
"Brok-"
"That belongs to the kid, he earned it! All you done was make passable dirt-soup."
"Brok, it's okay," said Atreus, quickly putting himself between the Giant and the dwarf, seeing that the situation was getting worse.
"No it ain't. This ain't righ. All the piece ain't welding to getther true. Like, what's with him callin' you "Loki" anyway? You know that ain't his name! Hey! I'm talkin' to you!"
Tyr had moved away from Brok, turning his back on him, but the blue dwarf was determined to have answers. Everyone's attention was on Brok and Tyr, also waiting for the explanations of the Norwegian God of War. But before anyone could react, Tyr pulled out a dagger, stabbing Brok in the chest.
"DO YOU NEVER SHUT UP?!!"
Everyone watched the scene shocked by what had just happened. No one reacted because of the shock. Suddenly, Tyr's appearance changed, revealing Odin.
Sindri screamed his brother's name, rushing to him. Odin had taken advantage of Atreus' surprise to take him hostage, holding the knife to his throat while Freya, Kratos and Freyr had drawn their weapons, slowly advancing towards the Allfather.
You stood there, completely paralyzed and unable to think properly. Your ears were ringing, your heart was beating at an incredible speed, your hands were shaking.
Brok was bleeding out.
Odin was ordering Freyr to give him the mask.
Kratos was ordering Odin to free his son.
Freya was saying she was going to kill her former husband with her own hands.
Sindri was begging Freya or you to come to Brok's aid.
You could only watch all this without being able to move a single muscle in your body.
"Sorry our time together is up, dear (Y/N)," Odin said, smiling slyly at you.
You felt your stomach turn at his words.
This guy was him all along. In Alfheim, you didn't save Tyr. You had only brought Odin to this house all this time.
You had not recovered your husband.
You saw Freya with her back to Odin, rushing to Brok to try to save him. You saw Freyr throw the mask at Odin. But the mask passed over the Allfather. You heard Kratos shout something to Atreus. The teenager transformed into a wolf, biting Odin's arm which sent him flying against the wall. Kratos rushed to his son while Odin took advantage of the chaos to pick up his precious mask, opening the closet door to let out his ravens which began to circle around him.
"Too bad, son," Odin said as he looked at Atreus. "Looks like war after all."
Before he could disappear, Kratos threw Draupnir, managing to snatch the mask from his hands as Odin escaped.
You stood there completely paralyzed. You couldn't react. You just stood there, watching Brok die in Sindri's arms before Sindri disappeared with him.
