《Stranger than Fiction (Draft Edition)》Chapter 47

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“I know of your ilk. Vestiges of a power lost to darkness. Clinging to life by staining the souls of your descendants.”

She had been shocked. How did this… stranger know about her true nature? Not even little Tanya truly understood what it was she was carrying with her. The speck of that Truth that would render everything into the infinite void of nothingness. Even in her worst nightmares, Tanya had always thought of it as accursed ice that gnawed upon the lifeforce of individuals and drank in from their lifespan until they were frozen to their deaths.

But this… this stranger— how did he— no, She— know so much about her?

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“I know of your kind. Castoffs that forever live under the delusion of getting it all back. Becoming a whole that you never were.”

If she wasn’t agitated already, she was very much so now. She was not a cast-off. She was the herald of the End. The Hunger that would swallow everything. And yet— yet those words seemed to affect her in myriad ways she couldn’t comprehend. Delusion? There was no delusion. She had been Nidhogg, been Fimbulwinter, been Meynte— different names, different existences in different lifetimes. And even if she was at her lowest, she would thrive. She would bring forth the end to the Cosmic Demiurge.

She would—

“I know of you.”

The stranger spread his hands out invitingly. The mockery of the expression made her want to eat out his heart.

“But do you know of me?”

Did she? The power, the omniscient, omnipotent aura— it was something she had never faced, and yet— something this bright, something that could outshine Amaterasu— who was this… Goddess? Not Amaterasu. Not even the Primordials. This light, this Fire. This ever-consuming DESIRE that wanted the whole Universe under its heel—

Who was it?

Who was she?

An ocean of helplessness began to drown her. Her Presence, even though it was barely more than a flicker, was somehow overpowering her— a lone Truth— and this was just the passive effect. Just who was this stranger that had brought this Titan among Gods to this realm?

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Who are you? She wanted to ask.

Perhaps— Perhaps she could use this Power. Use it against the wielder of the Eternal Light. Bring down the Asukan Pantheon. And when everything would be on the brink of ruin, she’d rise, and devour everyone and everything.

But then—

“Then why aren’t you kneeling yet?”

It was like a switch had been flipped in her head. Kneeling? This stranger wanted HER to kneel before him? Wanted the End to kneel like an obedient dog? This was— this was just—

She threw her head back and laughed. Genuine amusement rang through her vocal cords. Perhaps she had thought too much too soon.

Amaterasu could wait. She needed to teach this… uppity stranger a lesson.

“You don’t know me very well, do you?” She replied, her voice both bremetan and not. Echoes of her alien amusement rang in her tone. “I have fought the native Gods of this world and established my dominion. I have fought Amaterasu at full power and survived her blazing wrath.”

Winter surged around her body.

The wind spirit sang with it, its wrath adding to her own.

“I know not where you hail from, Stranger. But for bringing me such quality food, I’ll make your demise quick.”

The stranger smiled. “I won’t.”

This was a mistake.

She should have stopped Lukas Aguilar from chanting the Goddess’s hymn right at the very beginning. But she had been curious. She had been obsessed with the sudden disappearance of that primal entity that had— putting all modesty aside— crushed her like an ant during the previous altercation. But most importantly, she had been craving to know the identity of this being.

Amaterasu had been able to subjugate Meynte back during the war. In a moment of extreme weakness, Meynte had even given into Fimbulwinter’s true nature, and dug into the yokai lands, churning out all potential from within into an attack of infinite power— and cast a devastating blow upon Amaterasu, a blow that the Sun Goddess suffered to this day.

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But this stranger goddess? This… Inanna?

She had not fought with her. She had played with her.

Thrown her around like a doll. And when she was bored, had cast her own Thrall— imbued with her own Truth.

“You who sought to enthrall my Host, allow me to show you what a real Thrall stands for.”

A burning light of pure domination had shot like a spear into Tanya’s core, an epic poem set to triumphant music that recounted the stirring tale of the Stranger’s victory over her enemy. A six-word mantra that struck at the fundamental essence of her existence. This last aspect had been the most devastating— six simple words repeated in an infinite loop that overwrote Her’s entire existence at every level of her being.

YOU WILL BOW DOWN TO INANNA

And she had.

The power of Frost had gone silent. It was there. Always present. Throbbing like a second heart. Its powers were ready for Tanya to command. But the will, the instinct— it was gone. And even in moments when it returned, there was this impeccable desire— no, a subconscious demand that rose out of her. To have Lukas Aguilar to herself. To make her his. To make him hers. It would be so easy. To use her powers at his bequest. To lay down at his— the Presence’s— feet. So easy to let him make all the bad things go away. Her place would be there, at his feet, staring up at him with a mix of awe and hunger—

Like a good bitch.

But the instincts of Winter had prevailed. That apocalyptic sensation that Lukas Aguilar had sent into the heart of the Anomaly’s Core had passed through her mind. To see the End happening before her eyes, to see the power, the darkness— the primal hunger in action had brought forth instincts. Memories that she had never known she had. Memories of a time before she was Everfrost.

Memories of Nidhogg.

Memories of Fimbulwinter.

The Herald of the End.

It helped that soon after that point, the Presence had faded from the Outsider to the point where it didn’t even matter. Slowly, subtly, She had invaded his subconsciousness. Instilled into him a Desire for her. The power of that Presence’s Thrall might have forced her into servitude to itself, but that did not mean she couldn’t do the same on Lukas Aguilar.

As time passed, the Presence grew weaker.

Tanya had grown stronger.

And soon, Lukas Aguilar, and his myriad powers— would all be at her beck and call.

But then she made this mistake.

“Where she treads is battle….”

She needed to stop him. Stop him from finishing. The Presence was in him, blessing him as a Chosen. It would forever stay with him, likely imparting him some Greater Skill that explained his unnatural powers. But mentioning it— even as a Hymn— wasn’t supposed to invoke it.

It couldn’t.

The goddess— this… Inanna— had died. Lukas himself had said it. The weakening of the Presence to the point of non-existence proved it.

Then why? HOW?

“Where she sleeps is lust.”

A wave of brilliant power exuded out of him. A fire that gave off no heat, yet hungrily swallowed the frost spears like they were nothing. It coalesced around him like a protective cocoon, its very existence affecting her mind, bending her down, forcing her down into an ever-subservient—

“Her pleasure is prosperity, her wrath annihilation, She is—”

“NO!” The power of Fimbulwinter roared within her mind. She’d survive. She’d bring about the End of the World.

Tanya leaped off her bed, a frost spear forming in her hand. She’d kill this stranger. She’d eat his heart out. She’d end him and freeze every single cell of his body until there was nothing—

“INANNA!”

—left.

Light subsumed her.

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