"Isto?"

Sorli could barely believe his eyes. He knew that Isto was strong, but he'd never asked about his powers, never questioned where their limits were.

"Argh!" Atreyu roared as he ripped himself from the ice, unslung his bow, and loosed a barrage of ice at the lawyer.

Isto's shimmering aura billowed out into a pair of great wings and curled around him, shielding the lawyer who was otherwise ignoring the agitated superhero on the ground.

"My fight is with Grimm Raven," Atreyu yelled, "do not interfere, or I'll destroy you too!"

Isto turned and cocked his head to the side, examining Atreyu carefully.

"I don't think you're destroying anybody today. You could take Grimm over here, only because he's been tortured for a few days, fought his way through a bunch of your goons, and doesn't have a full grip on his powers..." Isto lowered to the ground as he spoke, the fine Italian loafers clicking on the stone.

Atreyu studied Isto in return. "There's something about you... something familiar that I just can't place..."

"You know, I get that a lot," Isto quipped in return, "one of those faces, I tell 'em."

The chamber thrummed with energy, causing Isto's aura to flare violently and the runes surrounding Sorli to pulse.

Atreyu's eyes shone with multihued light for the briefest of moments.

"No... that's not possible..." Atreyu growled, his knuckles going white.

"What are you -" Sorli said.

"You should be dead!" Atreyu shouted as he separated his bow into two connected short swords.

Isto pointed a finger at his chest, "Who me?"

"Yes, you! My ancestors killed you! There are tales and songs about it sung throughout Vlahalla's halls!"

"Would someone -" Sorli started.

"Don't believe everything you hear," Isto chided.

"My family has never -"

"SHUT UP!" Sorli yelled, "For FIVE seconds!"

Both Isto and Atreyu looked toward Sorli with raised brows.

"Explain, now."

As Isto opened his mouth to explain Atreyu raised his right hand to the sky, the same multi-faceted light that had shone in Atreyu's eyes bored down through the building and enveloped him. When it receded, Atreyu emerged, gleaming ethereal armor resting over him that left trails of frozen air in his wake. His two short swords were now the business ends of a double-sided glaive and he held an ancient-looking but resplendent longsword.

"Shit..." Isto and Sorli said at once.

"Shit?" Sorli asked.

"Shit," Isto answered.

"Fáfnir!" Atreyu bellowed, his gaze fixated on Isto, "I do not know how you shucked your fate, avoiding death by my ancestors, but I will right that wrong, for I am -"

Sorli and Isto surged forward as one, their fists slamming into Atreyu's chest and sending him sliding back across the shattered ice.

"Why is he calling you Fáfnir?" Sorli demanded.

"Long story short, kid, I'm a dragon, Fáfnir was my name once, some little shit thought they could hide in a ditch and kill me that way, their plan didn't work out, and millennia or two later here we are," Isto explained.

"Why did you say shit?"

"That sword can kill me."

"Oh is that all?" Sorli asked.

"No, it's not, that pulse? Magic is back, you can thank Ma - ... The Supplier for that and while that's going to help us out, it's going to help him too."

Sorli grit his teeth.

"Neat."

Isto flexed his fingers, hardening his emerald aura around them into claws and scales. "I'll keep him busy from the right, you take him from the left, get that sword away from him and we can finish this."

Sorli nodded.

"And kid?" the young hero looked over, "Don't hold back. Everything you've got, right now."

Everything I've got? Sorli wondered.

He'd been fighting as hard as he could... or so he thought. Sorli ran a quick inventory on himself. The runes surrounding his suit had been keeping him on his feet, newly durable as he was, Sorli was still tired. His feather sword was still in one piece and he could make a couple more if he needed to, but there was something deeper in him, something that he couldn't quite get to, couldn't access.

He launched from his spot the split second after Isto charged Atreyu, sword trailing by his side and sparking off the ground. Atreyu swung the large boradsword at Isto in a deadly quick horizontal arc, Sorli acting on instinct, moved two of the floating runes to the soles of his feet and activated them, surging forward with a burst of flame and feathers.

Isto leaped over the strike, pirouetting in mid-air to dodge a flurry of jabs from the double-bladed staff, landed, and went on the offensive just as Sorli arrived, bringing his smoldering feather blade crashing down at the dragon-killing broadsword. Atreyu reversed his grip on the hilt and pulled it away, spinning in an outstretching circle to menace both Sorli and Isto with all three blades.

"You know, as much as I've enjoyed myself, I think it's time I start taking things seriously, what do you say, scum?" Atreyu boasted.

He hopped backward, skipping across the cracked and broken floors, and leaving ice in his wake.

"Let's see it then!" Isto challenged with a battle-mad grin on his face.

Is he having fun?

Isto pursued Atreyu with a series of rapid claw slashes and cracking whip-like attacks from his aura, which had been expanding more and more into the shape of a dragon as the fight wore on. Atreyu's defense manifested in rapid twirling of his glaive, his body, and lashing out with the broadsword whenever Isto got too close.

They were so fast.

Sorli focused as he ran, there was so much noise... between the vikings and some pro-wrestler bellowing, gun shots, Panzer yelling about cannons, explosions, the moans and groans of pain from familiar voices... he thought he heard Leap somewhere in there too...

Hey! Guy! Are you still in my head?

Sorli received silence.

At least Isto, The Supplier, Panzer, and Leap had come to get him out. They were giving their all to help him and he couldn't even keep up.

What about you? Guy-thing that keeps calling me Vidar, are you there?

Again, silence.

"Fuck!" Sorli roared as he pumped his legs harder, trying to clear the splotches of ice without landing in another with each stride.

A flap of wings by his head gained Sorli's attention.

"Havin' a rough go are we?" the raven soaring alongside Sorli asked.

"Uh..." Sorli answered.

Has this bird always been here?

"See, the power you're usin', that's jes from your oul fella, there's a whole nother side kept away in ya."

"You're not Huginn or Muninn..." he observed.

The bird squawked with laughter and pecked at the top of his head.

"You thinkin' the Norse are the only bastards invested in makin' heroes?"

"The Morrigan?"

"You'd best get a move on an' throw some shapes, else all your friends, the people who came to save you, they're all fated to die," the raven answered.

For a half-second Sorli didn't see a raven flying next to him, he saw a warrior-woman, her hair a trail of burning flame behind her, a rectangular shield across her back, sword on her hip, and a spear in each hand. She was equal parts wise and alluring, beautiful and deadly, a goddess of war.

"But -"

"You have it within you to grab hold of that fate... twist it... break it... you must bring it out, young one."

"Bring what out?"

"All the hurt on your inner sides, bring it out, make it your strength, don't let it be your weakness anymore."

In a puff of black feathers, she was gone, just as suddenly as she had arrived.

Isto and Atreyu had made their way almost back to the observatory. Sorli was still lagging behind.

He had witnessed Isto's power before, when they first met in the hospital room and later when he punched the house sized training golem across the bunker. This was different. It was hard to tell who had the upper hand, Isto was the one pursuing Atreyu across, and sometimes though, the maze, and while the two blades of ice on a stick bounced harmlessly off of Isto's aura, the broadsword parted it with ease and threatened to carve through the lawyer if it landed. A number of cuts in his perfectly tailored suit demonstrated that fact well enough.

Atreyu wasn't flawless either. He was having a hard time keeping up with Isto's assault. There were deep gouges in his armor from Isto's spectral claws and the wispy ethereal armor that had shrouded Atreyu was flickering from the abuse Isto's crushing blows had landed. Just like the frenzied smirk on Isto's face, there was a wildness and excitement burning behind Atreyu's eyes. The opportunity to fully cut loose, to pit strength against strength, and to be uncertain of the outcome.

How does this turn into everyone dying? How is that fated? Sorli thought.

Isto landed a devastating hook into Atreyu's gut, shattering the breastplate and sending the hero soaring away. Isto paused for a moment, catching his breath and waiting for Sorli.

"Took you long enough kid, I thought you were faster than that," he teased between breaths.

"I didn't think you'd be able to run like that in those shoes is all..." Sorli replied.

The sound of a bowstring roared in Sorli's ears as his eyes shot to Atreyu. The magic broadsword hurtled through the space between Atreyu and Isto and time dilated.

Isto has this fight handled. I'm too slow, just in the way...

Sorli lurched, sprinting at a hard diagonal to intercept the sword-made-arrow.

"Kid! No!"