The sound of horns rang loudly, their strident tones a call to arms. The woman, her flaming red hair, which was not merely red, but a deep crimson that shone with an inner light, trailing behind her like a cascade of waves, reached for her long spear, an ornate weapon of dark wood and iridescent metal that sparked with dazzling arcs of lightning. Armour materialised suddenly around her perfect form, made from the same metal as her spear, carved chestplate detailing a large tree, around which was coiled some sort of draconic being.

Racing out from her dwelling, other women, similarly attired, in armour that hugged their immaculate figures, carrying spears, swords, maces, axes, bows and other more exotic weapons, were rushing about, hair of many exotic, impossible colours streaming out behind them in the breeze.

On seeing her sisters, the woman brightened. “So, another incursion it seems.” She said, cursing in her heart at the poor timing of it.

“Ah, youngest sister.” A blonde woman carrying a bow said on hearing her words. Her eyes were a beautiful crystalline blue, deep and fathomless. “You have returned as well, I see. Yes, another push. The Einherjar are being assembled to buy us some time, but it’ll come down to us to buy enough time for countermeasures, as it always does.”

The woman narrowed her own deep golden eyes, clutching her spear tightly. “Of course. The Einherjar are numerous, but their league… well, they do themselves honour regardless, and we shall see the survivors back to their homes, while the fallen live on in song. Still, the attacks… are they not becoming more frequent?”

A third maiden joined in, a coiled whip in her gauntleted hands. She was green-haired, with matching moss-green eyes, with a chest straining against her decorated armour. “The older sisters tell me it comes in waves. Still, yes, it does seem that we get no rest recently. Under the World Tree, I wish that we could finally have some peace.”

As she mentioned the World Tree, they all turned, looking behind them. The aforementioned Tree was towering into the sky in the far distance, worlds away, yet it was still visible, the shadow cast slanting tens of thousands of miles hence, into the disputed lands of the highest Astral. Making gestures of reverence, they all bowed.

“Peace is for the weak. My sisters, the horns of war blow, and we are called to stand against the darkness.” The oldest of the nine said, her raven dark hair and piercing red eyes giving her a raptor-like look, hungry and driven. Her two-handed sword was slung over her back, and the edge flickered with cobalt flames.

Taking a last look at the world tree, which was the heart of their Territory, the anchor of the divine realm, the woman looked down at her wrists, where two silvery bracelets were giving off a muted glow. No time, there’s never any time. Well, by the Allfather himself, we shall not fail!

********

“Do we have numbers and designations for the incursion?” a voice was booming over his transmission device, and Andvardr shifted in his seat, the array of crystal and metal lenses perched across his nose clicked and whirred as they adjusted the glass in front of his eyes. Immediately his vision was cast far out into the disputed lands, where six dark shadows were moving, corroding and destroying the lands in their wake, followed by two strange impossible beings, one a mixture of crystal and light, the other a hulking mountain of legs, seemingly made of black iron. “By the Allfather’s beard.” Andvardr declared, wishing he had a mug of strong booze to steady his nerves.

Reaching for a crystal dial on the panel in front of him, he turned it. “This is Andvardr, in perimeter forsvarstårn sixteen. I can confirm eight incoming. Looks like six Hunger-class, and two… and two…” saying the words was hard, but dwarves did not shy from fear, no, not while they drew breath. “… looks like two Annihilation-class beasts. The Einherjar won’t stand a chance out there. Not without serious support. We’ll need to invoke the Hel-vegr.”

“Understood, Andvardr. Use whatever means you have to slow their advance, as there are two more incursions at other perimeters. And there is no help coming from other domains.”

“Say something that’ll surprise me.” Andvardr snorted bitterly. “World Mountain is trying to recover from the last invasion, and those One True God….” He said the words as though they were filthy “… bastards are more likely to take advantage of the confusion to attack us themselves. I spit on them. Untrustworthy allies are worse than strong enemies.”

“I understand your contempt, but that isn’t why.” The voice on the other end of the transmission cracked. “They have their own hands full. An Apocalypse-class. It might even be Ragnarök-class…”

Allfather and Divine Mother above!” he cursed, hissing in horror. “Poor bastards. I may hate them but… well, lucky it went for them rather than us.” He made a sign in front of his chest with one hand, praying. “At least they should be able to fend it off. But the casualties will be ruinous.”

“Best of luck out there, Andvardr.” The speaker said.

“All right then, to work.” Andvardr began pulling levers and turning wheels, the forsvarstårn in which he was residing giving off crackles of aetheric flux, cogs and gears grinding, revealing an array of exotic weaponry outside. The crystalline lenses over his eyes started flashing with runes, and soon a target lock was obtained on the front-running abominations from the Void.

“I’d best start with the Hunger-class bastards.” He muttered, readying his thumbs over the firing mechanisms. “Annihilation-class will just shrug off the hits.” With that he clicked the switches, and his vision was filled with bright beams of indigo light, lancing forwards, slamming into the dark masses of indistinguishable shadow. Huge crystal orbs were fired out too, to explode in colossal plumes of elemental energies, shaking the tower around him with the backlash, even from many leagues away. Other forsvarstårn were joining in too, and the disputed lands boiled and cracked under the repeated impacts…

********

“Hold the line, brave warriors!” a burly troll declared, calling upon sacred stone to rip through the thousands of dark tendrils that lashed down around him, blotting out the light from the skies above. Desperate screams were ringing out all around him, as human, dwarven, elven, troll, beastfolk and many other Einherjar were fighting desperately to push back the abominations.

“Easy for you to say.” One elven woman spat, half her face melted off, simply… gone… where a tendril had caught her. She was missing an arm too, and her exposed innards were pulsing slowly as her lifeblood drained away. “You haven’t had to see… your family… die…” she shed a tear from her remaing eye. “Just why… why do they keep coming? Just what… causes them to…” with that the woman died, and the troll turned away, calling on more and more lances of stone to soar free from the ground, slicing through the amorphous mass of hunger that was consuming dozens of brave souls every second.

“I excuse your disrespect.” The troll rumbled. “Until the end, you fought well.” All around him chaos reigned supreme, the hill-sized Hunger-class beast giving out putrid fumes that quickly killed the weaker warriors. Even the troll himself was struggling to bear it, and though his strength was lauded amongst the Einherjar, earning him a position of foringi, captain of the Tullan world’s Einherjar hosts, he was still but a mortal, not strong enough to transcend his limits and become something more.

“No, I did not see my family die. I fought and trained until I reached foringi, but then I stagnated. Always searching… uh…” his words were halted by a tendril melting through his armour and taking his arm. Hideous creeping dissolution started spreading, so quickly he used his axe to sever it at the shoulder, flesh falling away, disintegrating into motes of blackened dust. “I never had time for a family. I only wanted to join the rank of the divine. When I was young it seemed in reach, but now…” he raised his axe with his remaining hand, spears of stone circling him like orbiting moons. “… now the end has come. But I shall not go alone.” He grinned, his warty face and brutal teeth making him the very image of terror. “Come, die with me, vile abomination! Allfather, Divine Mother, give us strength!”

Roaring a battle cry, the troll charged into the swirling mass of tentacles, howling out prayers and curses. Moments later, the world went white, and the very Astral shivered, a rippling wave of energy disintegrating the dark abominations. As sparks rained down around him, the troll looked up blankly, watching as radiant light cut through all darkness. Other surviving Einherjar were equally stunned, some hugging each other, others falling to their knees and crying. As the Astral shook again, booming sounds echoing, the troll made to gesture with his missing arm, paused, embarrassed, then dropped his axe and made a hand-sign. “Allfather, praise to you! The Hel-vegr saved us, saved us all…”

********

Deep within the reaches of the lower Astral, Gu’vex’ue drifted, his wounds leaking iridescent slime. Raising one amorphous arm, the yellow bones visible beneath his transparent skin, he scratched at the injuries criss-crossing his warty, toad-like face. One of his golden eyes had been put out, and the other blinked constantly, dripping sour pus.

[Curse those demons for running me out of a good thing.] he spat ichor, running a long tongue over his bulbous lips, a few unbroken jagged teeth standing out like daggers. [That world is full of sweet, succulent souls, they could have left me alone to eat my share.]

Still, demons were notoriously greedy, and judging by the constant series of battles in both the Boundary and Material plane of that world, the demons of the Seventy-two Pillars were making a concerted effort to plunder the world of every soul, secret and treasure it held, adding it to their infernal Territory.

[Yes, I suppose I am better off out of it.] he sighed, foul smelling breath spreading out across the silvery mists that buffeted him as he floated, aimlessly. The Astral itself was trembling, constant waves of pressure coming down from the mythical Highest Astral. [I had a good run, twenty years of delightful prey. If only I had not tried to poach that delectable little one from that Demon Earl… oh well, I was lucky to get away at all…]

Gu’vex’ue shuddered. Eating mages and warriors with bright, powerful souls was a delight, but he had seen that royal, lineage bred for thousands of years to inherit a pure strain of power, and … well, who could have resisted the urge to feast? Not Gu’vex’ue, that was for sure! Sadly, one of the wings for the demon army had also been trying to secure said royal, and Gu’vex’ue had clashed hard with them. Some demons had screamed as they slipped down his gullet, but trying to take on an Earl… well, just look at Gu’vex’ue now, to see how that ended. [If only I could find a virgin world to recuperate in. The competition in others is too fierce, and I am far from my best right now. Oh, all that shaking is hurting my injuries.]

The Astral was convulsing more and more, before a massive detonation, far, far, far distant split the dark-light of the Lower Astral, revealing for a moment a glimpse at the glory of the higher Territories…

[Uhh, so strong…] Gu’vex’ue was swept away by the blast waves, his diminished strength far from enough to resist the shockwaves of apocalyptic battles above. As he was pushed down through the Lower Astral, past other creatures who were likewise hurled from their nests by the turbulence, he managed to snag a weaker creature, snacking on it even as it squealed and tried to escape.

[Not bad. Fills my stomach at least. Still, I wonder where I will end up? I hope wherever it is there are tender things to eat…]

Gu’vex’ue closed his remaining eye, letting his meal digest. Below him the eddies of the Lower Astral started to ebb away, revealing the ether-poor shadow of a Boundary, mists pushed aside by the blasts…