Work Text:
The TV had been on, a smaller one located downstairs in the area she had fashioned into a lab. Keep updated even when it lost hours days? to their work. A sigh left her mouth, she needed more samples to work with for her main projects, glancing aside at her potion stand.
It had been working on creating a good supply of basic potions, healing, resistances. The danger outside was increasing, and when she put on that skull mask it knew it needed to be prepared.
The only time recently it had been dragged away when her roommate, Dirt, convinced her into doing some sort of… celebration with him. Phekari was it? A winter tradition in the city, sending lanterns into the sky with a wish in mind. It was no artist, and frankly it was only participating for his sake than anything else. Maybe the idea of yearly traditions had simply been lost to her after…
Didn’t want to think about it.
A lantern sat on her desk, a simple silver color without much in the way of decorations. Dirt had already sent his up, but she decided to wait… and it wasn’t sure why.
The TV grew loud. Sunder finally started to pay attention
… Dumbasses, all of them. They decided to play hostage situation with a god?
It wanted to laugh, but that feeling was choked out by ensuing terror.
They’re messing with a god in a crowded city.
And normally the response would have been simple, pack up and leave again- all that would matter is getting her and her roommate out alive, and this city was far from good for that. Yet that instinct felt- subdued, something else gripped her and the fact that she could tell exactly what it was annoyed her more than anything.
Care. She rose from her desk, moving without thinking as it grabbed a familiar uniform situated in a hidden compartment installed in the lab. She threw potions into a bag, the basics- strength, regeneration, quite a few healing pots specifically to spare- the god seemed to have a fire motif going so she threw in some fire resistance for good measure. Sometimes it paid to have a perhaps concerning number of stocked up supplies.
The lantern also was put into the bag. For some unknown reason.
It was careful to make sure no lab equipment was left out before practically running as it made its way out of the building.
Osiris had work to do.
—
Osiris was not one for rescue missions, or being out in the field like this. It took to shadows, it helped from a distance more often than not. And even now it tried to stick to that, try to lead people with just its voice- on the outskirts of the ensuing destruction, it was careful to keep its wings and tail as close to its body as possible, if debris trapped those it was as good as dead.
For a moment it would look over, seeing The Scourge in the distance.
(I’m going to die here, I’m going to die here, this is going to amount to nothing, RUN–)
It growled, a low terrifying noise under the modulation of its voice. It needed to keep calm if this was going to do anything. Make any sort of difference.
It managed to direct a few people, keep them from running straight back into danger- for a few it accomplished this by simply stepping out and scaring them into another direction. Hey, if it works it works.
… A sudden tug as Osiris started to move to another area. What? It glanced around, no one had touched them. The only thing that surrounded it was broken buildings and fire. The people going through here were already gone.
(A trick of her mind? It felt… familiar however)
The wind blew back the cloak situated around its head, quickly it launched into the air. It normally avoided flying often, it didn’t feel right it wasn’t something she should be capable of but it needed a vantage point, landing shortly after on top of a roof.
Just in time to see the fireworks.
That is, if it hadn’t almost immediately collapsed at- something. A sharp pain hitting its head. What?--
After a moment, it dulled into a headache. Osiris looked back up, kneeling on the roof.
…
It could pinpoint the force it saw attempting to destroy the war god with a clarity that would never die.
Now it could in turn figure out the source of its pain. Amber eyes narrowed, expression under the mask twisted into something between fear and hate.
It shouldn’t be- that rope had been severed, it forcibly cut it at the cost of its own self decades ago. The remains of a lab long abandoned stood only to prove that.
(You were a fool)
(A single frayed thread remained)
(Nothing beside remains)
It felt sick. And it wasn’t sure if that was itself or something from over the line.
It was a few hours until Osiris could will itself to move. Was it hours even? It felt like it, it could register the moonlight.
The thread had turned to an odd calm but, when noticed it couldn’t ignore it.
It only seemed natural that the thread could be held onto, followed.
So it did, tracked on this one train of thought.
Osiris disappeared into the tunnel system.
—
The air was heavy, fog contained within the straight line that led to a certain dead end of the tunnel system.
It was familiar, far too familiar. It was cold, any moment it felt like the world would collapse underneath it, that nothing here was rea-
The rebellion member caught its breath, calm. It could see the hot air visibly, it was still here. It would be fine.
(So why do you walk towards what had hurt you?)
It needed answers was the first thought.
But was that true?
It kept his head straight, not looking to the cracks in the walls this tunnel could collapse on you at any moment keeping its awareness to the floor. To where it could fall.
It finally stops, at what could be described as a shattered hole through reality itself. It stares.
(Once a lifetime ago she stared into the void. She did not think it could look back)
Something in the air changed, a tug at the thread from the other side.
It had gotten the void’s attention, good.
Osiris eyes, its demeanor, it was nothing but icy- matching the world around it.
“... Do you recognize me yet?” it spoke, tone deceptively calm. If the void could listen, then it would speak its mind in turn.
(A memory in an empty street)
(“The void himself in a mortal body… I didn’t even think such a thing could be sentient”)
(“‘The void’ has a name just so ya know, Nights”)
(But there was more to it, something that ran deep)
Of course, there was no true response. Not over such a thin line, but the presence was there. He was listening, that was good enough.
So, it continued, “If you don’t, doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of people. Though I’d be surprised if you remember nothing- so many people lose their lives to falling in” a step forwards, something venomous in its voice, “you would think someone who survived would stick out”
The tale of Osiris was an interesting one. A god of death and resurrection, of cycles and the life brought forth by it. The judge of those passing on.
Once, a pharaoh killed by his own brother in an attempt for the throne. Revived in spite of it, he came back strong.
His son Horus- god of the sky- fought to avenge his father and vanquish Set. A representation of new life, a new beginning.
(If only your Horus had been the same)
And so, here Osiris stood. At the gates to which they once ‘died’. And it awaited for the underworld themselves to respond, even if it couldn’t hear- it didn’t care. Its words were cold but its blood ran hot with rage.
A feeling crawled through. An emotion. It was not its own.
Guilt.
Something broke. The judge growled, suddenly tearing its mask off its face- throwing it aside to the ground, hood thrown back.
Sunder stood on the edge, wings outstretched to their full wingspan, something wild in her expression- something that had been hidden, stewing in some locked away part of its mind.
“You- you took everything from me!” her voice echoed against the tunnel walls, against the endless expanse below, “I had- had fell for so long and you sure as hell didn’t do anything until it was-” too late. Had it been too late?
“... Do you know what it’s like?” her voice dropped to a harsh whisper, that slowly climbed back up as she continued, “to return home to an empty house? To return home and find that everyone you ever knew was dead and gone and no one even remembered your name?”
(Yet for one of the few who would learn of that long abandoned name, you didn’t even give her- that reflection- a name, not aloud. Selfish coward)
("Quite well for myself despite the hardship, Dr. Aeon.")
The void is listening. She knows he’s listening.
“Yet… yet you were still there, I couldn’t leave it all behind I-” what was she even saying at this point? The dam was gone, and now she was yelling until her throat hurt, “I thought I was going to die”
(Markings. It has felt terror every time it saw them. That one day it would consume her until there was nothing left, or it would drag her back into the depths, or-)
(They were no longer there. Her wings felt heavy on her back)
“I did everything- I sacrificed all I had left to sever that connection!”
(A broken lab covered in fog)
(Someone with your own face attacking you)
(One last desperate attempt. You thought it worked)
(This place is not a place of honor, no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here, nothing valued is here)
“... But you’re still here”
And as much as she had yelled. It couldn’t avoid the reality, in the end… her choices were her own.
So desperately did she want to shift that blame, to have someone to hate other than herself to have someone to yell at. For the longest time she thought they were something.
… It was easier to yell at a force of nature than a person.
Sunder couldn’t bring herself to say more, everything felt fuzzy the seams between the void and the overworld were blurring in her vision.
It sits down, wings folding close around her..
It thinks there was something else.
Envy.
(People know your name)
(People care for you)
(You can be happy and I can’t)
She didn’t know long she sat there, on the edge of the void whatifyoufallin-
(Maybe someone would push her in. Maybe for a second she could hear her own voice taunting her. This never happened)
It stood, silent as the grave. It took its mask and walked away. There was nothing more it could say.
… A whisper. Something had desperately crossed over that string that could snap at any moment.
(“I’m sorry”) simple, not much could be said over that thin connection. But it was said so earnestly.
Sunder stops.
...
Why did it hurt?
When it moved again it turned around, back to the hole. Pulling something out of her bag.
A simple silver lantern.
It would not be lit, it would not see the sky. But she can take a different route.
Held over the abyss, she drops it.
She doesn’t know if it’ll be destroyed in the kill zone, or if perhaps it’ll simply fall forever. It didn’t matter.
A wish was it?
(“I wish to be able to move on”)
She turned away from the void. From Nights. Rage was still settled in her heart, but now it had become something heavy- something hard to parse.
Another day. Osiris put its mask back on and left.
—
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
and the universe said the light you seek is within you