Mischief Reborn

CHAPTER TWENTY - FOUR

Atë

Looking past the gate I cringed at the furious storm occupying the entirety of the third level. For over four days we had walked and avoided cyclops, when we arrived at the gate they all sat down on the barren ground.

"Okay, I know you are all exhausted, but we need to keep on moving. Level three is hot and as you can see; the weather isn't pleasant. Thankfully, there's no dust storm today and my first base is at those mountains you can see." Tired, Loki and the Avengers all rose as I neared the gate, drawing my swords.

Daimons are unfazed by storms, some of the worst attacks I've experienced have been in bad weather. I needed to be prepared. "If you see anything, cyclops or something else tell me immediately. Daimons love storms, they can track via heat signatures if necessary," I added, nodding to the Hecatonchires as we passed through the gate to level three.

Immediately, the powerful wind blew all hair away from my face, carrying some particles of sand. Thunder crackled as I raised a shield around the Avengers and Loki, knowing that a shield around myself would only make fighting harder.

Thanking my past self, it was relief knowing that we would soon be safe inside my heavily barricaded base, unlike prior levels, this one and the ones above it required further protection.

"Atë!" I snapped my head to look at the Avengers behind me as several figures formed out of darkness. Their flesh was deadly pale, with red rimmed pupils that glowed despite the lower visibility.

Halting my progress, I moved closer to my friends. As they approached the wind dulled, bouncing off of the sphere created by the largest daimon. Thousands and thousands of marks decorated his skin, each signifying a slain enemy, he was certainly a weapon.

"Goddess, I see you have brought mortals here. I'll enjoy taking them as slaves after I defeat you," He spoke in a deep voice as more daimons circled us.

"Funny, you'd think a few thousand years wouldn't erase me from the memories of your kind. Especially after how much blood I've spilt." Staying calm, I ignored the daimons who walked closer to the shield surrounding my friends. They would incinerate on contact, after all.

"That was before you became weak. We can smell the light within you, buckling under the weight of darkness. Tell me Goddess, does it drive you mad when the darkness whispers in your ear, present in every level of this hell? I wonder, if your humans know that when you finally submit, it may be their blood staining your hands?" Clenching my fists, I watched the daimon walk closer to me.

"But you'll be long dead then," I replied, suddenly striking out and throwing a well-aimed blade at his head. The other daimons backed away at their leader turned to dust, realising that I was still deadly before running as fast as they could away from me. Cowards.

"Come on, we better reach my stronghold before the remaining daimons return with backup," I yelled over the howling wind, fastening my pace and sliding my blades into their sheaths.

Unfortunately, this would only be the beginning, above us level four remained colder than Antarctica. Blizzards were frequent and on rare occasions, ice fell from the heaven, impaling all those not taking shelter.

For security, three different chambers led out from the outside. Each with stronger protection than the last, not to mention spells and traps to stop anyone breaking in. Once confident in our security I removed the belt holding my sheaths, stripping down to a singlet and pants before falling onto a couch next to Loki.