Tyrant's Fall Part 3
Quirinus rushed through the sky, a being of whistling death that collided against Aeneid. Lidia was pushed back a dozen meters; dust and rock filling the air, her arms crossed and teeth clattering, vacillating but never breaking. She shouted at the lupine mask until both stopped, unleashing a chaotic volley of punches at each other; so tired they were that most blows missed the mark, splitting the ground. Pyroclasts, steam and sulfur were released from the volcanic core of the region.
Lidia was tethering on the brink of human endurance, her spark bare and jubilant. The shine in her eyes flooded with incandescent scarlet; soon the Celestial Triumph propagated all over her body. Her blood seemed richer, her cuts betraying the stir of her spark with something beyond mortal kin. Dancing with myth and divinity, Aeneid attempt to keep up with Quirinus; slower and weaker by the blow, Lidia was giving ground - fading away with each passing second, she was going to either lose the fight or herself.
Troy came to the Fields of Fire. Cassandra spoke through Aeneid’s burrowed lips with truth and prophecy.
“I might be mistaken, but you’re wrong.”
She was punished by her declaration with an armored knee to her chest, forced to bow as air escaped her chest. Lidia had no stamina or defense left when Quirinus followed up with a fulminant punch that closed her eye and burnt her eyelashes. Her legs gave up, Lidia falling amid the cinders of the hot ground.
Quirinus was going to finish the job, leaning over the fallen Triumphant. Lidia felt something burning her brow, something blinding her with a flash. The dark Triumphant stepped back, horrified by something he had just witnessed; Quirinus snarled from a safe distance while Aeneid pulled herself together.
Intimidated by her core, Quirinus made his goal to obliterate Lidia in such a way that not a single atom would remain to haunt him. He flew over the sulphur columns. Arms raised, he channeled all the fear, greed and hate that fueled his manifest destiny; massive walls of thunder crashed from every direction. Doom became the horizon, Celestial lightning refusing to be grounded and rising ever higher towards the heavens.
Aeneid was quite shaken, contemplating the inevitability surrounding her. Quirinus, the incarnation of overkill, wore the storm and accessorized electricity, approaching Lidia as the mother of all tempests. Shredding winds guided even more lightning, some of the vanguard blurring and phasing out as they were reshaped into a pack of giant electrical wolves.
Lidia closed her good eye, focusing her mind on a clear and concise visualization of her needs.
A deluge of pyroclasts, stones and lava spewed from Underground, dispersing the columns of electricity; a rocky spear struck Quirinus’ armor, wrecking it. The sky cleared, revealing Orcus mid-jump; Quirinus turned all wolves and lightning towards the creature, feeble attacks that they easily dispersed.
Nothing could keep them from ruining Quirinus’ day.
Despite Orcus’ single-minded determination, Quirinus seemed increasingly more agile and ethereal, managing to avoid their claws and gaining distance. Orcus unleashed their secret weapon, unhinging his jaw and creating an infernal vortex: winds, wolves, burning stones, thunder; Quirinus. Everything was being swallowed to the Underworld, the screams of lemurs demanding the light of the dark Triumphant.
Maw and tentacles wrapped around Quirinus’ left arm, Orcus pulling themselves and the Triumphant towards the ground. The creature’s powerful claws could not be resisted, calmly and methodically dismantling all of Quirinus’ protections. Blow after blow reduced the imposing despot to a shadowy mass, confined and shaped only by the silver wolf mask, torn cloak and occasional electric discharge.
Orcus once again opened their maw, trying to deliver Quirinus to the horrors that awaited it in the Underworld; so diminished and unclear the Triumphant had become that it managed to slip away into the nihilistic nothingness from which it had been born.
Lidia stumbled towards Orcus, hand holding her dominant arm, one eye still closed. She rested her head against Orcus’ torso, groaning and complaining. Orcus showed her something that made Lidia shake in disagreement.
“It doesn't matter. I had hoped to have finished by now, but we all knew what it would take much more. Is everything ready?”
Orcus replied with a flurry of images. Aeneid smiled as tears ran across Lidia’s face. She was so afraid; how could she go toe to toe with Quirinus, some sort of disease festering within her society pantomiming as human; a thing that she and so many others had treated as a human being, entrusted with the keys to the Urbe.
Lidia hugged herself, shivering as she could feel its taint everyone - even under her skin. No time for horrible realizations: she found her center and aligned her spark; she would fight on as herself.
“Today is the day.”