Chapter Text
Brunhilde wasn’t merely just in a pickle. Saying so was such an underestimation that it was downright offensive.
From where Brunhilde could see it, humanity was pretty much done for.
Her long, silky midnight black hair clumped under her fingers as she clutched at her head, wide, tired red eyes fixated on the screen attached to the table in front of her. She had spent every night of the last six days the gods had granted her to pick her set of fighters, poring over every famous human figure she could find and carefully picking out fourteen that would go out to fight the gods.
She knew it was a hopeless situation from the moment that she had challenged the gods to a fourteen-round tournament for the sake of humanity’s survival. Knowing that she only had to win seven rounds to guarantee humanity’s survival didn’t help quell her anxiety at all when she doubted they would be able to clinch even just one fight. After all, the gods were far, far superior to humans in every aspect. Strength, speed, experience…the gods were far, far superior in every aspect. And that wasn’t even accounting for the divine weapons at their disposal.
She went through her list of fighters again.
Lu Bu, Adam, Sasaki Kojiro, Jack the Ripper…
Yeah, maybe Lu Bu wasn’t a good choice. What did he have going for him other than raw strength? Raw strength alone wasn’t going to cut it.
Raiden Tameemon, Michel Nostradamus, Qin Shi Huang, King Leonidas…
Huh, maybe Raiden Tameemon wasn’t such a good choice for the same reason why Lu Bu wasn’t. Why is it that she was only noticing these slip-ups now? With only a couple of hours before the start of the first round?
Michel Nostradamus, Nikola Tesla, Okita Souji Kaneyoshi, Sakata Kintoki, Simo Hayha, Grigori Rasputin…
Everything else seemed…decent. Not close to good at all, but maybe decent.
Brunhilde let out a growl of frustration.
Decent wasn’t good enough, not with all of humanity at stake! But it was the best Brunhilde could do…
No, there had to be something better. Some better option that would give them an inkling more of a chance. But she was running out of time…
She stops. Then, she suddenly stands up from her chair.
There was something. Something that might just give them a chance.
She quickly tabs out of the fourteen portraits of her carefully selected human fighters, the home screen of the pad appearing along with several other applications. She pinches two fingers from the top right and bottom left corners of the screen towards the center, causing the screen to darken ever so slightly and all the application icons to disappear. Now, all there was left was a single icon of a lock in the center of the screen. Brunhilde taps it with her finger.
The whole screen goes black, as if the pad had turned off on its own. Then, a keypad appears. The elder valkyrie just stares at it for a moment, as if contemplating if she should turn back. But then, with a shake of her head, she resolutes herself and taps out a very specific twelve-digit pin code. A code that she had mercilessly beat into her own memory centuries ago.
After checking it for the third time, she presses the green ENTER button. The code disappears as the home screen returns along with the rest of its applications. However, this time, there is a quiet whir, then a quiet pop. A small glass capsule shoots up from somewhere inside the device on the table.
A small glass capsule filled to its brim with glowing, turquoise liquid and sealed with a screwable cap.
Brunhilde takes the capsule out and gingerly holds it between two fingers. She inspects for a few seconds.
Then, closing her eyes, she releases the small capsule, letting it fall to the ground.
Upon hitting the ground, it shatters, small fragments of glass scattering all over the floor. The liquid inside splashes outward into a puddle as the valkyrie takes a few steps backward.
The effect was almost instantaneous. The liquid on the floor began to shimmer, tiny sparkles of light rising from the glowing liquid.
Then, there is a silent, but flash of light. Brunhilde immediately averts her eyes, closing her eyes and protecting her face with an arm.
The light dies down a few seconds later.
Brunhilde finally turns her head back up…only to widen her eyes at who had appeared before her.
A short figure, dressed in an artist’s garments of various shades of brown with a bone-white head sticking up from the top of it. Where there were supposed to be eyes were just two blank eye sockets, a glowing star and turquoise blue square floating in the left and right socket respectively. Strapped to his back was a large paintbrush and in his hand was a notepad.
The figure’s eye sockets were widened, as if surprised. He whipped his head side to side before turning around in a full circle, assessing his environment. Then, he fixed the shapes in his eyes on Brunhilde.
“What the…where am I?!” he asks. “Who are you?! Where’s the Doodle Sphere?!”
The elder valkyrie just stares at the figure for a moment as the figure stared back, both blinking at each other almost simultaneously.
Then, Brunhilde just smiles.
The gods were superior to the humans in every possible way, that was indisputable. Yet there was one thing in which humanity had the ability to prevail over divinity in.
Imagination.
For because the gods were omnipotent, they had no need to imagine anything, for they could do everything. And because humans were inferior, their imaginations were like horses in a flat, open field. They didn’t know what omnipotence was, so all they could do was imagine what it was like. The result of that? Some of humanity’s most famous creations, some of which even the gods enjoyed.
And it would be at the hands of those creations that would fell the gods.
Yes, this will do. What more to surprise the gods then something so inhuman, yet belonging to humanity all the same?
“Welcome, creation of humanity, to the place where your fate will be decided!” she says, holding out her arms grandly. “We’ve got a couple of hours, so let me get you up to speed.”
“I see, so you’re saying that I’m not real.”
“Nope.”
“And that both my life and the life of every creation under my protection is at risk of permanently disappearing if we don’t somehow win at least seven fights against real gods that make my creators look like ants.”
“Yep.”
The figure sighs.
“Tell me, how does that make sense?” he asks, almost exasperatedly.
“It doesn’t have to,” Brunhilde replies with as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s simple, you find fourteen other creations to fight for us, you all don’t die if we win enough times. If you decline, everybody disappears. Honestly, it's not too hard to understand.”
The figure just stares at her for a moment, then closes his eyes, sighing.
“I don’t really got a choice here now, do I?” he says. “Alright then.”
He holds out a hand. Then, without opening his eyes, he snaps his fingers.
Behind him, thirteen small rectangles appear from nowhere, all lined up neatly in a horizontal row. Twelve of them were glowing bright yellow while one, the last one, all the way on the right, was glowing white with flickering ERROR messages all over it.
“How about we go with these then?” he asks.
“You’ve already chosen?” Brunhilde asks, blinking at him. “Are you sure you don’t want a bit more time to think it over? This doesn’t seem like the kind of choice that should be rushed.”
“No, I’m sure,” the figure says. “I’ll probably need a bit more time to think up the order, but I’m confident in these selections.”
“Okay then,” Brunhilde says. “We’ve got around an hour and a half left. Let’s make it quick.”
The figure just nods, opening the notepad in his hand and flipping through its pages.
“Oh, by the way, I never got your name,” Brunhilde says.
The figure looks back up at her.
“You can call me Ink.”
-----
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Ragnarok! The tournament that will determine the fate of humanity!”
The whole colosseum exploded into noise. It was mostly from the gods’ side though, as they cheered on their own fighters, whoever they were, and jeered at the humans. The humans, however, just remained silent, glaring angrily at the gods or staring at each other apprehensively.
“Without further ado, let us get started!”
In a large corridor, somewhere within the arena, a muscular man with long, red hair dressed in nothing but a large, white sash tied around his torso, begins his walk towards the arena.
“The rules are simple! Fight to the death! Should humanity win at least seven battles, they shall survive for another thousand years! If not, then all of humanity will be slain!”
More jeers and cheering, all from the gods again.
“Representing the gods in the first round, is this god! For who shall fight if not him?!
“Every god knows his name! Everybody wants to see his full power! His legendary Mjolnir can tear even land and sea apart!”
The man finally walks out into the arena for all to see, effortlessly carrying a very, very large hammer in one hand.
“Behold! The Nordics’ strongest fighter…!”
THOR
The cheers persist.
“And now, what is a battle without an opponent? Fighting for humanity we have, to our surprise, not a human at all, but one of their creations!”
The cheers died down at that, now replaced by a more quiet confused murmuring.
“The one who will face the god is this individual!”
The large gate on the opposite side of the arena slowly rises off the ground.
From within a large corridor somewhere in the colosseum, a figure slowly walks towards the large doorway that had just opened up, leading to the arena where he would be fighting in just a couple of minutes later.
He was dressed in a white jacket with fluff lining the top, hood and bottom of it, black shorts, revealing his bony white and thin legs, and a pair of pink, fluffy slippers. Two white sashes crossed his body from his left and right shoulders in an X-like pattern. Underneath his jacket, barely visible from the unzipped top of it, was a black shirt. Wrapped loosely around his neck was a golden-colored heart locket.
Flanking his left and right sides were two children, identical in height but just barely half his. The one on the right was wearing a thin, white, unzipped jacket with a blank black t-shirt underneath and black shorts. He had short, unruly white hair with black and white eyes. In fact, his whole complexion was snow white. The one on the left was almost entirely just as white, but with short, just as short and unruly black hair. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of black jeans. His eyes seemed close, though he walked forward as if perfectly aware of where he was going.
Just as the three were about to step out into the colosseum, the figure in the middle stops. The two children also stop, almost at the same exact time that he does.
“are ya kiddos sure ‘bout this?” he asks. “we’ve got no idea how this fight’s gonna play out. accordin’ to the scary lady, we’re fightin’ a real life god in a world where everything is not just code. we might not be able to fight at anywhere near our full power and if we die, it will be for real this time. no chance of coming back.”
“You worry too much,” the child at his left says, not regarding him at all. “Don’t forget that we’re gods too, in a way.”
“You’re worrying too much,” the child at his right says, turning to him with a toothy grin. “We’ll be fine. You’re gonna get wrinkles before we even get out there.”
“...i can’t get wrinkles,” the figure in the middle says.
“Potato potahto, you know what I mean,”
“Chara, that’s enough,” the child at his left says before turning around to face the figure in the middle. “It’s almost time. Let’s get this done.”
The figure in the middle closes his eye sockets. Then he opens them again, holding out his hand.
A glowing, upside down white heart appears out of nowhere, floating just above the palm of his bony hand. The other two children also hold out their hands, glowing, right-side-up hearts appearing right above their palms. A glowing heart split half and half between red and purple appeared in the left’s while a full, glowing red one appeared in the right’s.
They all looked at each other, then, with a nod, all tightened their outstretched hands into fists.
The figure in the middle closes his eyes.
The whole world around them seemed to glitch all at once. It lasted for not even as long as half the amount of time it took to blink, a phenomenon so quick that most wouldn’t have even noticed it happening.
Almost nothing changed, save for the abrupt disappearance of the two boys. The figure still stood there in the corridor, his hand still clenched into a fist. He slowly brings it down to his side though.
“alright then…”
He finally opens his eyes to look forward at the colosseum through the opened gate in front of him.
One red eye in his left eye socket and one purple eye in his right.
“let’s show them what we’re made of.”
As he stepped out into the arena, looked down upon by millions of humans and gods, the specters of two human boys appeared, floating closely behind him in the air.