AntiGod: The Odyssey Of God

A deafening crack echoed through the air, swiftly followed by the distinct sound of a weapon being reloaded. The bullet hurtled through the emptiness, just grazing the cheek of a suspended figure, causing a feather to shatter into pieces. Though it was only a slight touch, the injury froze instantly, encasing part of the man in a layer of frost. “You… You… YOU HURT ME!!” he yelled, gripping his right cheek in pain.

With a powerful flap of his wings, he unleashed a flurry of white rays onto the snowy ground below, each beam of light cutting through the air like a knife. The rays exploded upon impact, sending shards of ice and snow spiraling into the atmosphere, creating a dazzling display of glimmering particles. As he unleashed this barrage, the quiet sniper began to sketch the outline of a mermaid in the air, and softly intoning:

“Constellation Arts: Aquarius.”

The words flowed from his lips like a gentle stream, imbued with an ancient power that resonated with the very essence of the cosmos. The power of a star.

The air crackled with energy as the mermaid's form took shape, shimmering with ethereal light. And like a mermaid gliding through water, his figure twirled around the ground, each ray and any debris. The sniper's focus sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he glared at his adversary, who simply hovered over as if he were a king. No. As if he were a god.

He exhaled deeply, the coldness of the surroundings palpable, before he said:

“I’m trying to figure out what your Infinite is, but it’s turning out to be quite tricky.”

His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he were merely observing a complex game rather than engaging in a life-or-death struggle. The words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in curiosity, as he adjusted his aim, the crosshairs aligning with the floating figure above.

“My Infinite, you say? The real question is how a mere human can inflict pain upon a deity like me!” Icarus’s voice trembled with indignation, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and disbelief.

“You speak as if you weren’t human once yourself.” the sniper retorted, his voice steady, almost mocking.

Icarus’s wings flared, a display of his divine nature, shimmering with an ethereal glow that contrasted sharply with the icy wound marring his cheek.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!! Don’t you dare lump me in the same category as you!”

The sniper’s calm demeanor was unnerving, as if he were merely discussing the weather rather than engaging in a fierce battle with an Olympian. Once again, he exhaled deeply, momentarily warding the cold as he lowered his sniper and flashed his bullet shell.

“Huh?” Icarus questioned.

Holding up a shell from his sniper, he clarified:

“These bullets. They’re divine rounds crafted by the leader of the H.A.N.D Frontier.”

With that, he flicked the shell into the air, the metallic glint catching the light as it spun. He aimed his heavy sniper at the hovering figure, his focus unwavering. And in a swift motion, he began to trace a large gorilla shape with the barrel’s tip, the air crackling with energy as he did so.

As the shell settled into the chamber, he chanted:

“Constellation Arts: Divine Yeti.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with portent.

*Boom!

The bullet shot through the outlined sketch, piercing Icarus’ body with a force that sent shockwaves through the atmosphere. In an instant, he was transformed into a statue of ice, the crystalline structure glimmering in the dim light, before it shattered into countless fragments, scattering like stars across the void.

Simo, sensing the conclusion of the battle, turned to depart in triumph, but a strange sound, akin to swirling water, drew his attention. But before he could react, a beam of pure white light pierced through his chest.

As he slowly descended to the ground, he thought:

(I see… So that’s your Infinite.)

His body collapsed, while the man who was presumed shattered laughed maniacally, untouched and even regaining his tattered attire -if one could call it that.

"Any final words, human?" the man inquired, approaching Simo's fading form.

He could barely hear the faint murmurs escaping Simo's lips. Even with his exceptional hearing, the words were too soft to decipher. A strange curiosity compelled him to lean closer, eager to catch the boy's final utterance.

But then… he heard the words that should never be spoken.

"Devour: Offering."

***

A room of pure darkness, reminiscent of the depths of an endless chasm. He glanced to his right and then to his left, only to be met with an all-consuming void, a familiar sight that offered no shock to the boy. After all…

This was not his first venture into this eerie place.

Suddenly, a loud whirring noise pierced the silence, growing increasingly intense, as if a divine herald was descending upon him. It was some contraption, like that of a giant spinning wheel -the kind you’d see in game shows. From behind, a small clown emerged, no taller than three infants stacked together, twirling a tiny cane and dancing with an infectious energy.

“Welcome to the Offering of Death,” the clown announced with a theatrical bow, his voice echoing in the stillness.

Simo's gaze was drawn to the enormous wheel looming before him, its surface divided into five distinct symbols: an ear, a nose, an eye, a tongue, and a hand. Oddly enough, the eye and tongue were already marked out, covered in a dark gradient.

The clown continued to hum a lively tune as he gave the wheel a vigorous spin, inquiring:

“What shall you be offering today?”

Simo fixed his eyes on the spinning wheel, his expression tense, akin to a gambler weighing his fate.

(Just not the hand… anything but the hand…)

The wheel spun with a tantalizing slowness, each rotation heightening the suspense, while the clown's humming added to the mounting tension. At last, the wheel came to a halt, and Simo's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth agape in shock.

***

Icarus stepped back, bewildered by Simo’s unexpected behavior. To utter such words on the brink of death was perplexing. What could possibly be going through his mind? Had he lost his sanity in those final moments? If Simo had simply passed away in silence, he might have been reborn in another life or even ascended to the heavens, free from the burdens of this world. Instead, his soul now faced obliteration, forever lost to the annals of Yggdrasil's library, a fate worse than death itself.

Yet, whether driven by instinct or sheer fortune, Icarus reacted with urgency, charging a beam of energy that pulsed with raw power, preparing to unleash it upon the lifeless body of the sniper. The air shimmered around him, a testament to the energy he was harnessing, but in that instant, a distant memory surged forth -a recollection that felt both comforting and haunting.

He saw a lively, somewhat hairy man, whose well-defined muscles were a testament to his craftsmanship. This man, regarded as the finest in his trade, knelt down, affectionately stroking the head of a small, weeping boy. The boy’s tears glistened like dew in the morning sun, and the man’s face broke into a broad smile, a beacon of warmth in a world that often felt cold and unforgiving. “Icarus, my boy…” he had said, his voice rich and soothing, “…regardless of what others may say, you possess a unique gift. You are a child chosen by God. Those white wings are proof of that. But remember this: never soar too close to the sun, and never venture too near the waters below.”

Those words echoed in Icarus's mind, a warning wrapped in love, a reminder of the delicate balance between ambition and caution. He could almost feel the man’s strong hands on his shoulders, grounding him, urging him to think clearly amidst the chaos.

As he stood there, the energy crackling in his palms, Icarus hesitated. The urge to strike was powerful, but so was the weight of the man’s advice.

Choosing to trust his gut, he flapped his brilliant wings and ascended to the sky. That was probably the smartest action he’d taken in his entire life. Because in that moment, disaster struck…

He was completely eviscerated.

A brilliant blue beam shot forth, encasing everything in a layer of ice, even freezing the snow beneath it, before it shattered into countless fragments.

“Damn it all…” a voice emerged from the swirling mist. “Why… why is it so cold?”

Icarus’ shattered form reassembled, determined to avoid contact with the ground. As he pieced himself back together, he exclaimed:

“HOW DARE YOU!! HOW DARE YOU PUSH ME SO!!”

The sniper let out a deep breath, more forceful than before, and realized the figures lips were moving, as well as veins bulging on his forehead.

“Sorry about this… but I didn’t catch any of that.”

Fueled by rising fury, Icarus charged a beam ten times larger than any he had unleashed before.

Forming the shape of a large scale that tilted slightly to the left, Simo chanted:

“Constellation Arts: Libra.”

Suddenly, Icarus’ divine light vanished into thin air, and rested comfortably on the tip of the Sniper’s barrel, seemingly poised to turn against its previous master.

Then, without warning…

Boom!

A sudden quake disrupted the sniper’s aim and destroyed the orb of light.

Boom!!

Another tremor, even more powerful than the first. Both combatants instinctively looked up at the sky, bracing themselves for an extraordinary event.

BOOM!!

And then…