The archangel Michael sat in the chamber which once belonged to his deceased master. His hands and feet were bound by links of enchanted iron forged by Ogun.  The self proclaimed ‘Judgment of God’ looked sullen, defeated and small despite being a shade below eight feet and weighing the same as a mountain. He no longer wore a helmet and the blades in his wings were gone, removed by his replicated captors.

     Trynaught knew had the Archangel possessed an ounce of defiance, he would not have allowed himself to be stripped so easily and thoroughly of his accoutrements of war.

     As it were, his master’s death left Michael a deflated, grieving shell of himself. In this state, he was pliant enough to answer a few questions.

“What do you know of a being who calls himself the Dark God?” asked Trynaught.

     Michael hung his head. “There are no other gods but the one true God.”

“I understand,” Trynaught said indulgently. “There is only one true God.” He then rephrased the question. “This being is not a god. He only thinks he is. Have you heard of someone who carries that delusion, yet harbors immense powers?”

“I recall my master mentioning someone…a being gifted with the ability to create life…as he did.” The archangel paused, drifting on a current of memory. “Only, the life he created was an abomination.”

     Trynaught stiffened.

“He forged this great evil and hurled it across the firmament,” Michael continued. “Where it landed, I know not…”

“I don’t care about the Dark God’s spawn!” Trynaught interrupted testily. “I want to know where the Dark God himself is.”

“There are no other gods but…”

“I apologize! I meant...the being your master spoke of,” Trynaught clarified.

“My master had insight into many realms,” said Michael. “Much of that insight, he blessed me with. I can give you that part of his memory.”

     Trynaught stared at the prisoner, disbelieving. “You can show me the Dark…the being’s realm? How?”

“As I said, my master gave me the gift of his insight into other places, mysterious places. He and I were linked in a bond so intertwining that at times I felt as if we were one person. I have never seen this place, but he has. I can link his memory into your mind.”

     There was a tremendous risk in what Michael proposed. The Archangel, after suffering the brutal, violent death of his master may have been plotting revenge. He may have planned to use this linking as a tool to kill the very person who orchestrated that death.

‘Open my mind to a grief stricken celestial whose master I’m responsible for assassinating? Might as well reveal my throat to the slitting knife!’ thought Trynaught.

     And yet an aching, overpowering desire to destroy his creator overrode that very sensible reservation. The compulsion ate at him like an addiction.

“Do it,” Trynaught said before he realized the words were out of his mouth. “Do it!”

     Michael gazed into Trynaught’s eyes. “Open your mind to me.”

     Trynaught did so, or so he thought…

“Open your mind!” the archangel commanded. “All of it!”

     This time Trynaught held nothing back. He felt the archangel’s abrasive essence pouring into his head, analyzing, exploring.

‘No wonder you want him dead,’ came Michael’s voice from everywhere and nowhere.

     Hot needles of pain shot through Trynaught’s head. He dropped to his knees in a fit of agony, and cursed himself for making the wrong choice, for trusting an enemy captive.

     Michael’s steady voice cut through the raucous of his suffering. I see why you came here. I understand…

     The pain grew sharper. Trynaught clutched his head. The scream he tried so hard to repress ripped from his throat in a ragged wail…

****

     Trynaught and his god companions burst into the realm of the Dark God after fracturing the barrier between universes. Ten million assault craft crewed by Trynaught Replicas flowed in through the rift like an infectious disease. Darkness enveloped the new arrivals within an inky void. There were no stars in this realm. The only source of light was the planet ahead as it emitted a faint ambient glow.

     Icy tendril’s of dread crept through Trynaught. He knew that world, though he could not recall being there. Regardless of the world ahead, this realm was the place of his birth…the place where his creator conducted his reckless dabbling and in the end breathed life into the instrument of his doom.

“All ships forward! Attack!” Trynaught ordered his replicas.

“Belay that!” Ogun countermanded. “First, we bombard the planet from a distance to eliminate as many of its battery emplacements as possible.”

     Trynaught pivoted toward the God of Iron with fire in his eyes. “How dare you…”

“I don’t dare anything,” Ogun cut in evenly. “I...am in charge of this operation. You want your creator dead? We can achieve that goal. But...only if it’s done my way. Otherwise, we’ll take our leave and consider our part of this arrangement fulfilled.”

     Trynaught looked to the other gods and goddess. Seeing consensus with the Iron God in their expressions, he reluctantly conceded his assumed authority.

     Ogun smirked and turned away. With but a thought, he created massive battery platforms. There were more than enough platforms to surround the dim planet twice over swarmed high in orbit. Immediately afterward the platform guns opened up, eradicating the darkness with intense slashes of light, turning sections of night into day. Fusion beams from the platforms speared into the planet’s atmosphere, impacting the surface. Bright scabs where those beams struck peppered the planet from pole to pole, hemisphere to hemisphere.

     Eventually, separate scabs of destruction merged, forming ever-expanding pools of devastation. The planet’s subtle glow became brighter, almost approaching a star’s level of illumination. Fusion explosions continued to pulse across the planet until its surface throbbed a seething ocean of fire.

     Ogun folded his muscled arms, satisfaction etched into his face.

“Such a showoff,” Thor lambasted. “When shall we dispense with the fireworks and get down to the business of real war?”

“If there’s anything left on that ball of rock for us to kill,” Amateratsu added dryly.

“Oh, I have feeling there will be a few enemy assets left for us to contend with,” said Ogun. He gestured to Trynaught. “Now, we move in. Stay close to me. I’m going to need those fine senses of yours to lead us to the target.”

     Trynaught nodded eagerly. He knew exactly where on the planet the Dark God was located.

     Unlike Jehov, the Dark God was not cloistered behind the walls of a citadel while guarded by an army.  He was out in the open, boldly awaiting death at the hands of his creation. Even as he and Ogun flew at top velocity, Trynaught could not reach the planet fast enough.

     Suddenly, a series of portals flashed into existence around the planet. Large, black-hulled vessels shaped like octagons emerged from the openings. It was the Dark God’s fleet!

     Emitter domes pimpled the vessels’ hulls. Thick shafts of incandescent energy streamed from those domes destroying waves of replica ships.

     Thor eluded an energy beam from an Octagon Ship. The heat of the beam’s passage would have burned an ordinary being to a crisp. Thor luxuriated in its scorching wake as if he were sunbathing in Valhalla. The god of thunder soared toward the ship, reared back and bashed its hull in with the full might of Mjolnir. The hammer’s contact sent off-the-scale kinetic forces whipping through its interior. The crew was already dead from lethal concussion by the time the ship’s reactor fractured converting it to a gaseous glob!

     Zeus’s arm worked like a piston as he hurled bolt after bolt toward enemy ships at rapid-fire rates. The vessels’ shielding, even at their highest settings, failed to repel the Olympian god’s terrible assault. Hundreds of Octagon Ships exploded in the lightning barrage and Zeus roared his exaltation.

     Stellar energy streamed from Huitzilopochtli’s scepter, slicing an Octagon Ship down the middle. The vessel broke into two equal parts, its crew members spilling out into vacuum to become flash-frozen corpses.

     The sun god breached a second ship and flew inside. Startled crew members mobilized to confront the celestial intruder. Huitzilopochtli cut a path of slaughter through the ship, using his scepter as a bludgeon to strike down personnel. With each kill, he ripped out a heart. When he was done, he rampaged swiftly through the next ship, leaving another set of ill fortuned crew members bereft of their hearts.

“You’re wasting time,” Amateratsu scolded her fellow Sun Deity. “Why have the power of the sun if all you’re going to do is butcher mortals like herd beasts.”

     To demonstrate her point, the Sun Goddess waved an arm, launching spheres of stellar energy at groups of octagon ships. Thousands of ships were enveloped in sun hot balls of light. When the spheres vanished, nothing remained of the ships but molten residue.

     Huitzilopochtli gave the Sun Goddess a jaded look. “That was a wonderful show.” He turned and promptly headed for the nearest surviving Octagon Ship. “You kill mortals your way and I’ll kill them my way.”

     The Sun Goddess watched Huitzilopochtli leave, and incinerated another thousand enemy ships in a bout of exasperation.

****

     Ogun and Trynaught weaved through knots of ships engaged in combat. Replica and Octagon ships traded huge volleys of missile and energy beams. Vessels were jarred off-course. Vivid explosions bloomed every second.

     Ogun knocked a missile aside with a backhand, sending it spinning out of control until it collided with an octagon ship.

     The God of Iron’s sole focus was getting to the dark planet. Destroying ships was not his priority. Unless an enemy ship ventured in his path, he generally ignored them.

     Trynaught on the other hand, was more distracted than focused. His creator the Dark God, occupied his mind to the point where he could barely concentrate on the here and now.

     An image imposed itself on his mind, a bipedal figure dressed in a red garment, and flowing white cloak. But Trynaught could not make out a face. A cloudy void existed where a face would have been.

    The figure stood on a mountaintop overlooking a valley that had been reduced to a white hot glaze by Ogun’s bombardment. Trynaught sensed that this planet was inhabited by higher life forms…tens of millions before disaster struck it.

“What do you see, Trynaught?” Ogun asked.

     Trynaught shook his head, alarmed. They were already cutting through the planet’s atmosphere. “I see him,” was all he could say in reply. He pointed in his creator’s direction. 'He’s waiting for us…he’s waiting for us….'

“Yes, I am. You have returned to the place of your birth to die. And you have brought companions. Good. They will die with you….”

“Damn you!” Trynaught screamed. He pulled ahead of Ogun in a rage-fueled effort to get the Dark God in his clutches.

     Within instants, a mountain came into view. It was the tallest peak on the planet and it burned with a natural radiance untouched by Ogun’s catastrophic handiwork.

     Standing atop its sloping peak was a figure in red, wearing a white cloak whipped into frenzy by the high speed winds.

     Ogun formed a missile launcher and handed it to Trynaught. “Make good use of it.”

     Trynaught took the launcher, aimed at the peak and fired. A tactical rocket nuke exited the barrel, streaking toward the Dark God.

     Within a split second, a searing flash crowned the peak, followed by a blooming mushroom cloud. Gusting winds from the shockwaves dispersed enough of the smoke for Trynaught and Ogun to see the mountain peak appeared unaffected and that their target was also unscathed by the blast as well!

     Perturbed Ogun remarked, “Not the typical outcome I would have expected from an enchanted nuclear blast...,”

     Inconsolable with frustration, Trynaught fired off a second rocket.

     This time, his creator caught the rocket and after briefly examining the missile, he crushed it in his hand. The Dark God dropped the useless projectile at his feet and threw up his other hand.

     Trynaught unexpectedly felt the rough tug of an invisible force pulling him toward the Dark God. He struggled to break free of the hold to no avail!

     When he fell within arms reach of the Dark God, fingers cold and hard as the stygian void clamped onto his throat. Those talon-like fingers squeezed and Trynaught strained desperately to break the grip of his faceless nemesis.

     Ogun moved in, preparing to the strike down the Dark God with his sword.

     The Dark God unleashed an energy bolt with his free hand. The bolt slammed into Ogun, swatting the iron god to the farthest horizon.

     Trynaught could no longer breathe. Dangling like a marionette, he clawed at his creator’s wrist.

"Foolish product of my will! I brought you into existence and this is the gratitude you show me? You do not deserve my gift!"

     The Dark God tightened his grip…

**** 

To be concluded....     Go to Part 3    Go to Part 5

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