“We will not allow you to take another step!” Ana shouted at the top of her lungs. The others nodded in absolute resolve.

  Menrva and Susanoo moved to stand with them, weapons raised against the Toltec deity.

  “I do not wish to fight you,” Tezcatlipoca said in a tone feigning conciliation. “It will be a painless sacrifice. The boy will not suffer. You have my word.”

  “That is not under discussion,” Menrva replied, summoning her lightning spear and aiming it at him with unwavering determination.

  “An absolute NO!” Ana cried, gripping Gram tighter.

  All members of Orniskem stood firm.

  Suddenly, Rodrigo vanished before everyone’s eyes—including Tezcatlipoca’s.

  In his place appeared Loki, making an obscene gesture at the Toltec god.

  “If you do not know where he is, you cannot kill him, can you?” the dark Norse god mocked.

  “I cannot believe Loki is fighting with us,” Ana murmured in surprise.

  “That is your fault, Irish beauty. For you, I would give my life for that fellow,” Loki declared melodramatically.

  Everyone winced—except Ana, who inexplicably blushed.

  “This… is hardly the moment, Loki… but thank you,” she replied, still flushed, eyes fixed on Tezcatlipoca.

  “Do you truly believe I cannot locate the boy with such crude matter-exchange tricks?” the Toltec god asked, disappointed.

  “At least it will buy enough time to send you back to your kingdom minus another leg,” Loki retorted.

  “Very well,” Tezcatlipoca sighed almost wearily, murmuring, “Tloque Nahuaque.”

  A dark vapor poured from his back.

  Instantly, everything was swallowed in absolute darkness.

  Orniskem members looked in every direction—but saw nothing.

  “I am what you would call a Saturn deity,” Tezcatlipoca’s voice echoed, “master of darkness and illusion. In this realm, only I can see… and move.”

  At once, all were frozen. Time itself seemed arrested. Their colors dulled, as if submerged in black mist.

  Yet within the abyss, their souls shone like stars—each light burning where their divine hearts lay.

  “No matter where you hide Rodrigo,” Tezcatlipoca said calmly, walking among their paralyzed forms, “in this absolute darkness, I shall find him.”

  He noticed the crater where Bellona lay. A star glimmered in her chest.

  “So—there you are.”

  With a tremendous leap, he reached the body and aimed his blade at its throat.

  He halted.

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  It was Loki—naked—lying there.

  “Did he deceive me? His armor obscured his face,” Tezcatlipoca muttered.

  He leapt back to the armored figure Loki had exchanged.

  Grabbing the helmet and tearing it off violently, he revealed Bellona beneath.

  “I have been tricked by that third-rate magician,” he growled.

  For a moment, fury flared—he nearly beheaded Bellona in frustration.

  But he steadied himself.

  “No. I did not come to kill uselessly. I need only find Rodrigo.”

  He pondered. “He must be near. The anti-divine barrier would prevent long-range displacement.”

  Before he could continue, Ana leapt, Gram drawn, and struck.

  Almost reflexively, Tezcatlipoca blocked with his obsidian blade.

  “How can you move within my dimension?” he asked in genuine surprise, straining against her force.

  Ana pressed down midair with all her might.

  “I too am a Saturn. I understood your technique. And this sword grants me great strength. At this moment, I am the strongest among us.”

  She flipped back and landed gracefully, one knee bent, gripping Gram.

  “I admire your confidence, foreign warrior,” Tezcatlipoca said, blade poised, “but that sword alone will not defeat me.”

  “You will not know until we cross blades!”

  “Beanna pollta (Crow's thrust)!”

  She expected spectral ravens to rise behind her.

  Nothing came.

  Her thrust struck his torso—yet did not pierce.

  “My technique failed…” Ana whispered, trembling.

  “As I said,” Tezcatlipoca replied calmly, “you cannot defeat me with that blade alone. We gods of this continent train daily beneath this barrier. You are only now experiencing it.”

  Ana ripped Gram from his chest and slashed at his neck.

  He did not even attempt to defend.

  The sword struck—and vibrated violently, throwing Ana backward.

  Tezcatlipoca drove his sickle-shaped blade into the earth beside her face.

  “If I wished you dead, you would already be so,” he said harshly, then lifted the weapon again.

  “I will not let you kill Rui!” Ana cried through tears of rage.

  “Then stop me,” he answered sarcastically, turning his back.

  “Damn it… it is not only the barrier… this cursed weakness I have felt since Palas… everything conspires to make me fall here…” Ana muttered, biting her lip.

  She closed her eyes, recalling Myrddin’s training.

  “I devised this secret discipline to help you overcome your sacred-element weakness, Ana,” the old wizard had said with laughter.

  “But like a flower, it must first break its seed, grow, and bloom. Until it blooms, you will not understand your weakness.”

  What must bloom within me? she wondered.

  She rose again, bloodied and shaking.

  “I am not defeated!”

  “If you attack again, I will not restrain myself. Then you will know why I am the most terrible god of Tula,” Tezcatlipoca warned.

  Ana smirked.

  “Perhaps you terrify them with those clownish markings on your face.”

  “Very well.”

  He raised the obsidian mirror from his chest and held it before her.

  Her own reflection stared back.

  “In my land, mirrors read minds and divine futures. From them emanates smoke that reveals fate—or drowns one in it. What shall it do to you?”

  Ana lunged—

  “Teskatlpokatl (Smoking Mirror)”

  A geyser of scalding vapor erupted from the mirror, hurling her backward. Her skin blistered under the concentrated steam.

  She screamed, writhing, biting her lips until they bled.

  “Remember—I offered you escape if you surrendered your friend. Now you shall die in agony.”

  He turned away once more.

  “Inutile… you will die here… useless…” Ana whispered to herself.

  “That is why Dagda raped you—because you are worthless filth…”

  Blood filled her mouth from biting her tongue.

  “But like a flower… it must break its seed…”

  “What weakness? My insecurity?”

  She tried to stand again. Sores spread across her body.

  She attempted to summon ambrosia—impossible. The darkness severed her pocket dimensions.

  Shaking, bleeding, crying, she rose.

  “Death… despises me… they always kick me out of Tech Duinn…”

  Tezcatlipoca glanced at her, then ignored her.

  “I have no interest in jesting spirits who flee Mictlán out of cowardice.”

  “This… spirit… is about… to become… a demon…”

  She lifted her sword, pointing it at him.

  He kept walking.

  “My weakness—I always succumb to my own self-loathing. I even believed I deserved being raped because I felt like crap!”

  She screamed with all remaining breath.

  “But I am the Queen of Darkness. Guardian of Night. Goddess of War. The woman who fights for the man who brought light to her rotten heart. The goddess who will protect the man she loves with all her power! I am the heir of Morrígan. I am Anand!”

  A sphere of light erupted from her abdomen.

  Her eyes and mouth blazed.

  She screamed.

  Her body exploded in a stellar shockwave.

  Only dark feathers drifted down.

  “What a fool,” Tezcatlipoca muttered. “She destroyed herself.”

  And he continued walking.

  Tloque Nahuaque is the name the Aztecs gave to a mysterious deity who created the entire cosmos. The connection to Tezcatlipoca here is that he creates a universe in which only he can move.

  Tech Duinn is the world where the dead go in Irish mythology.

  Mictlán is the world where the dead go in Toltec/Aztec mythology.

  If you’d like to support the story, a follow or rating helps a lot.

  The next part will be released tomorrow.