Component 39 - Demi-God

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Reality reformed around the forge, and he stood strong with Soul Rupture in his hands. He glared across the anvil of creation at the menacing, towering form of Torchwood, the orcish god. Once again, the pair began to circle the centerpiece of the cavern.

"You won't win." Angon said, brow furrowed, eyes as deadly as daggers.

Torchwood narrowed his own eyes, and glared back at the metal man.

"Come." The god said. "Let us finish this and be done. I have a world to devour."

Angon whipped the scythe sidelong and reality tore open. Red spikes of energy appeared, floating before him. He then waved his hand and the spikes fired at his opponent. Torchwood did not try to dodge, as each spike struck him in chest, arm, and even face. The forge held his hand out before him and squeezed it shut.

Explosions went off as each spike detonated. One by one they blew, sending Torchwood back step after step. Again, Angon held the scythe out before him, watching the smoke cloud for any sign that the god still stood, and in his being Angon knew it couldn't be that easy; and it wasn't.

First he saw the burning red eyes, and then he saw Torchwood charge forward. Angon brought up the scythe's staff to block. The very force of the god pushed Angon back, but he dug in his heels, pushing against the orc.

Together, they held the position. Black energy crackled about the staff of Soul Rupture and ran through Angon's fingertips. He could feel the intense power of the mighty weapon. And he knew with it in hand, he could defeat Torchwood.

Angon pushed with all his might, and Torchwood was forced back one step, then two. The forge had the god at the anvil, and bending over backwards, trying to break through the deadlock. Angon's eyes glowed a brighter yellow than they ever had.

"Torchwood." Angon said through gritted teeth. "You will go back to the heavens! And I will hunt you down there."

"I will go nowhere." Torchwood growled, fighting and standing back up. He pushed Angon back and made Angon lose ground.

Torchwood thrust his head forward, striking Angon in the face. The forge lost his footing and stumbled back, but the orcish god held onto the scythe. Angon fought to keep his grasp, but the deity was already twisted the scythe from him.

"No!" Angon growled, fighting back, but his fingers would not hold.

Torchwood grinned, and Angon's face contorted in rage.

"This weapon will not help you." The orc god said, loosing one hand and throwing a punch into the forge's gut. Angon was lifted off the ground, but held on.

"Let go." Torchwood pulled back another punch and slammed it into the metal man.

Angon grunted, lifting off his feet again.

"I was made to kill your kind." Angon shouted. "And I'm going to fulfill my destiny!"

Torchwood would have no more. He was tired of playing games with a mortal creature. The orc opened his mouth and Angon saw a fire building in the back of his throat. He had only a moment to gasp, as a ball of fire exploded out, smashing into him and blowing up on impact.

As soon as Angon's grasp left Soul Rupture, Torchwood took the shaft of the scythe and raised it above his head. With his undeniable strength, he brought the staff down and snapped it in two. Dark lightning shot out, striking the stones, and blowing chunks from the ceiling. Torchwood dropped the two pieces of the weapon by the broken Hellsmasher.

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