It was a grandiose celebration. The Lord of the Undying Storm stood triumphant on the top step of the Forge, his siblings gathered around him in royal formation, their pawns and minions about them, all of Okoto cheering them on.
They had succeeded.
“You should be proud.” The Core said to his brethren. “This victory has cost Okoto many lives.”
The Lord of the Skies cackled and drew Ekimu out of his form, beaten and bruised almost beyond recognition. He collapsed in front of the Lord of the Undying Storm, looking up pitifully. “Have pity on my people. Please.”
“Kill him!” The Sea Queen hissed with excitement, kicking the Mask Maker forward. “Show Okoto who really rules this pitiful island, brother!”
The Storm grinned, bringing up his massive axe to strike, and swinging it down into the neck of Ekimu. His head rolled on the floor with a dead glaze in his eyes. Unsatisfied, the Storm swung again, lopping his head off again.
And again. And again. And again.
It wasn’t working. Every time he lopped Ekimu’s head off he seemed to grow strength. Worse, he was starting to run away. To his hammer, at the bottom of the stairs.
Finally Ekimu was strong enough to bolt away and nearly fly down the stairs. The Storm gave a violent chase, when his foot caught in the massive gash he had created two days ago, jamming him in place. As he struggled in vain to free himself, far more harrowing versions of all the attacks he performed on the city flashed before him, from an Okotan’s point of view.
He wasn’t even slightly fazed by this whatsoever, but the one performing the actions was some twisted, demonic version of himself, lightning quick and very aggressive. It didn’t help when, in a bizarre pit formed by the steps of the Forge, nearly all the Okotans in the city began closing in on him.
“Brother! Help me!” He said, twisting around to see his siblings, far off at the lip of the pit. “Get me out of here!”
But the only thing he received was laughter. The Core was the only silent one, who glared maliciously at him from afar. They seemed to be further away than ever before, and the pit was growing dark.
“Help!” The Storm cried, twisting around in vain. Nearly all the light was gone save from his two piercing eyes and his massive heartlight. “Anyone! Hello?”
Nobody cried in return. It was just the void returning his agonized cries. He drummed his fingers against the walls to find they were much closer than ever before. Far away was a dull, scraping sound, almost silent, like metal was being scraped on one area and then dropped in another.
His eyes opened. It was the sound of Ekimu cleaning upstairs. The walls were real, only his fingers couldn’t move. The cell he was in just became that much emptier and alone.
Gladius trailed behind Keya, making tiny, sharp glances in every direction. The feeling of morning was just starting to pass.
If a tree could look death into anyone, it was the Lord of the Skies. He glared violently at Athena while the farmer attempted to comprehend what just happened.
“I- I didn’t realize-”
“Disguises were necessary.” The Skies said, turning back to him. “Would you kindly show me to the center of the capital? I wish to become reacquainted.”
Still very confused, the farmer led him on, the Skies taking a triumphant glace at Athena before following.