The Power of Ten Book Four: Dynamo

Issue 486 – The Destruction of Daemons



“We’re going into hostile territory in another dimension with a magical foe!” I repeated over my shoulder to the warriors there, while Function gleamed ready in my hand. Primus had that standing bar of a Silver Sword out, Kismet had one blazing Golden fire, and Richard Ryder had a Silver Glaive of his own ready. “I want them dead and vivisized, I don’t want them coming back in unending cycles of violence! Got that?!”

“Yes, sir!” thousands of voices called out, all of them clutching Mindsword Foci or magical Weapons, and all of them glowing with Gold, Silver, or Rainbow colors. Apocalypse was actually shocked to see so many people wielding such things, some of them not even human.

Very pointedly, none of them were mutants. I had ten Shielders here as voluntary company commanders, I had Moondragon Monks as Battleminds, I had power-armored Solar Marines, Six-Core and higher Pentad Corpsmen, and even a few Lanterns with Enchanted Eye-Lanterns, especially Zhuli, backing everyone up. There were dozens of Shamans, there were Ice Witches, there were Black Scythes, there were Runepriests, and there were freaking hundreds of chi-wielding specialists in mayhem ready, with Iron Fist and Luke Cage prominent among them.

There were also Perrun, Tchernoborg, Sif, the Warriors Three, Skurge and Ursula, and Hercules and Uhura. The gods were not sitting this one out.

“This, this is not a matter you should interfere with!” Apocalypse ground out.

“Is or is not there a force of natives of Terra beyond this Portal fighting a holding action against daemonic forces and an evil god?” Primus asked him, turning his head slowly to stare at the cyberized mutant.

Apocalypse’s bluster evaporated instantly. “There, there is, including my wife...”

“Then we are going to raise that siege, destroy our enemies, and bring our people home,” Primus stated in no uncertain terms, and a rumble rose from behind him. He looked back at the non-mutants getting ready to rescue the mutants, and knew there was absolutely no way he could stop that from happening.

“I will go with you,” he stated, and Primus’ eyes narrowed. “My Horsemen I will leave behind to protect Krakoa in my absence...”

“As you wish. Let them consider it a holiday. Right now this entire island is under the protection of the Great Bear, the Pentad Alliance, and the High Guard.” He pointed up at the Starholder floating overhead here, its entire complement of Corpsmen and Marines heading out with us. “We’re about to show that fucking god what we think of interdimensional invaders on our homeworld.”

The entire set of Divinities hummed in unison. They’d all fought together against the gods fleeing the collapsing of their realities. It had not gone well for them.

“To the slinking home of a cursed thing,

A craven coward skulking far from sight,

Its name a lie,

Now time to die,

Let it feel ALL of Terra’s Might!”

The Portal deepened across infinity, howled open as it reached out there, and then snapped back as reality shook with the power Morgan was putting into it.

It opened onto a desert world, the sun a yellowed and diseased red, the sands looked wasted and hued in bone-dust.

Primus swept through first, I was on his heels, and in perfect telepathic order, the forces of Terra swarmed into the hidden dimension of Amenth to go meet a god who dared call himself Annihilation.

-----

“Who are you, to dare battle my prey?” the warrior in white with the massive sword boomed out, seething with anger that we had dared to kill the daemons and hybrid soldiers that he and his men had been doing battle with.

“A relief force from Terra, here to end this siege and bring you home,” Primus reported firmly, setting down in front of the man, completely unafraid of his anger or his weapon.

“Relieve?! ME?! Do you think I or my hundred champions need your aid?!” the man screamed in outrage, waving his massive sword at Primus. “Uncounted years have I done my duty, standing against all the daemons could throw at me, and you dare to think I need your HELP?!”

“If you did not, you would now be back on Terra,” Primus replied easily, completely undeterred.

This man has devolved into a killing machine obsessed only with his duty, and those men over there have died tens of thousands of times, returned to life by his mutant power, Moondragon conveyed to Primus. Naturally the most adept non-mutant telepath alive was with us, her own Soulbound Weapon manifesting as a Spear.

“HAH! Let us see if you are worthy to even confront the demons, let alone think of rescuing us!” the man blared out in outrage.

He swung his sword at Primus, as his champions raised up their mutant abilities, gripped notched weapons, and charged at us, despite being outnumbered by those aflight, let alone those on the ground.

“TRUTH! What has been done to you!”

They screamed, all of them, as the slamming Word dropped down on them, and crashed down into the stratified horror made of their lives, minds, bodies, and souls.

“HOPE! Your time of battles is nearly done, and you will be free!”

The tiny little spark that remained behind in them fanned and flared, for their dreams, wishes, and that final, fatal hope inside them, drove away the despair of an existence of endless war, death, and rebirth to fight again, something no mortal mind was made to endure.

“VALOR! To the noble, to the courageous, to those who sacrifice for the life and light of others, HEAVEN ACKNOWLEDGES YOU!”

Weeping, the champions of Arakko, raised their eyes to the skies, and felt the Glory coming down upon them. They Knew something had seen it all, and witnessed every triumph and travail, and it was all worth it.

They had held, and those they had once saved had come back to save them!

It was Perrun who stepped forward, grasped the arm of the kneeling White Sword once named Purity, and drew him to his feet.

“Come, brother. It is almost done. One more battle to wage, and we will see this through.”

“You... you are a god,” White Blade gasped, but did not draw away, staring at the Slavic Divine King. “Why... why are you here? The gods failed us in the past...”

“Did they?” Perrun answered shortly, unfazed. “We were told of your history, and the man with the ability to Summon gods to serve him. Do you think it so easy to command a god to do as you wish? To force them to serve those who see them only as instruments, and not for who and what they are? To not think that would end in disaster for you is the height of hubris.”

Perrun turned and gestured at those behind him. “We are here because we believe. Because these people believe in us. We are here because we want to be here, and now you are going to see what mortals working with gods who share a purpose and cause can do!”

The White Sword said nothing more as our army moved with speed and purpose on its path.

-------

The mutants of Arakko had never beheld anything like it.

The shining force from outside came in with fire and fury, and overwhelmed the daemons and hybrids attacking their lands. The numbers of the daemons meant little to nothing; they were savagely overwhelmed with bright shining Weapons, tremendous firepower, and unwhite fires that consumed the daemons utterly and left the ground crystallized and misting behind them as they perished. Magic and powers that could only be called truly Holy swept through the daemons and slew them without remorse.

And there was only a single unexpected mutant among those fighting without.

Apocalypse had returned! And he had brought back the White Blade and his champions!

------

Getting rid of Annihilation was almost anti-climactic. With the surrounding forces drawn in and wiped out by massed magical firepower and vivic energy, the golden helmet that had been calling to Genesis to be worn so it could take command of her was nothing more than an open conduit to the direct essence of the demon god... a conduit that could be used against Him.

Ursula, Morgan, Uhura, and I worked out the Ritual to draw His essence there; Sif, Perrun, Tchernoborg, and Hercules promptly assaulted the terrified demon who could feel the Aura of Godslayers upon them; and the Sun of the Seraphim came down and Consumed the bastard entirely, and through Him, destroyed the last remnants of His daemon servants and their debased children from this dimension.

That, of course, signaled the collapse of the dimension itself, which was not unanticipated. Burning the essence of the demon god was enough to power a transferal through the weakened dimensional boundaries, sending the island and nation of Arakko back to Terra, adjacent to the sibling it had once formed the greater island of Okkara with.

The mutants of Arakko, fierce and warlike, who had fought a siege of a thousand years against an inhuman and immortal foe, stared at the great Nova Ship that was the Starholder floating overhead as the Solar Marines, the Nova Corpsmen, and the Lanterns left them, their job completed.

Even the gods departed, and with them my Dupe-sisters, while Portals saw off the Dragon-fighters and the Moondragon Monks, such as they were, all under the very mixed expressions of the Arakkoans, leaving only Primus, Kismet, and me behind.

Whether they liked it or not, they had just suffered a tremendous blow to their self-esteem, having to be saved and rescued by horribly powerful and skilled non-mutants, who had proven so much better than they at fighting their own ancestral enemies it was scarcely imaginable.

-------

The Great Ring of Arakko was the governing body of their people here, as it was on Mars. The Omega-Levels, the strongest mutants of their people, held the reins of power and determined the course of their nation.

There was an interesting change to the Great Ring. Isca the Unbeaten, a mutant whose power was to ‘never lose’, had returned to the Great Ring in the Seat of Victory, none daring to stop her, nor the prior holder to fight her and automatically fail and die to her ability. It seemed she had changed sides as we were massacring the daemons, realizing that the daemons could not win and so was compelled to join and aid our efforts.

It was even said that her changing sides had blatantly informed the daemons and mutants alike that they were going to lose to us, and so aided our victory. Because she could NOT be on the losing side, she would be forced to turn traitor if there was no way for her side to win. Us winning the battle had brought her back to the people she had been forced to abandon centuries ago.

Whatever, Primus and I were here, and Kismet was far from a slouch. Clearly we were as powerful as any and all of their Omegas, and even this ‘unbeatable’ mutant was looking at the three of us with trepidation.

Apocalypse had also told them quite a few stories about us, and they knew at least some of the High Guard’s history, and the things we’d done during the Annihilation War. If they thought they were the only ones fighting against a numberless powerful foe, they were quite mistaken.

The difference was that we’d won our war, and then, we’d won theirs!


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