Of a Biblical Proportion [Africastrophe IV]

AFRICA
Thwup thwup thwup thwup thwup- The helicopter's blades chopped through air, barreling forward, hellbent on its destination. Reishi thick with the sense of hollows even a mile out, Lukas sat across from his elder, the Sternritter Johann. Ear pieces let them communicate despite the deafening vehicle, without needing to resort to yelling.

"Hollows started pouring out, what? Fifteen minutes?" His voice was staticky under interference, hanging onto the frame as he leaned his head outside. "This seems like a step above the last attempts at containing this shit. Can't afford to be making mistakes."

Pulling back into the helicopter, Lukas reached into a bag on the floor, clipping a silver bracelet onto his right arm. After a moment it beeped, a red light flashing blue, flickering off. A set of six ginto made themselves into his jacket, before tucking away the empty bag. Not Lukas' original idea, having caught a glimpse of the old man carrying them. Inspiration, some might say.

"Whatever we end up fighting out here, if you can keep it in one place, I can kill it." As Lukas finished, their audio channel filled with an announcement from the pilot -

"ETA 60 seconds, prepare to disembark."

Breathing in slowly, Lukas stepped to the edge of the doorway, Ahnengeist glittering as it formed in the open air. "Let's do this one more time."

Here they were again.

Johann sat still in the helicopter, pressing Ullr harshly against the floor of the aircraft, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. Like the last offense, he had spared nothing in preparation, with many, many Ginto tubes ready for use at any point, his Spirit Weapon already manifested, and several Seele Schneider assembled. He had gone over everything brought with them multiple times, ensuring that they were well-prepared.

Despite his disdain for the man, Johann was hardly going to let his pride and emotion sway him from efficiency and the potential for teamwork. Whether he liked it or not, they were comrades. They would make this work, one way or another. Even further still, he was right -- they could not afford to make mistakes.

"Remain vigilant, boy. Before anything else, we must ascertain what we're dealing with this time. Whatever we might be facing could be stronger than what either of us fought before."

Rising from his position and priming a Ginto tube, the elder followed his junior, leaning out of the doorway to look ahead at their location. They lacked information right now, and that was more important than anything. Right now, he could only hope that what he had was enough.

A horrific explosion rang out across the battlefield, its point of origin far above the hordes of Hollows, Shinigami, and Quincies alike. What was just moments ago a Vandenriech helicopter, now an unrecognizable hunk of melting steel hurtling toward the Earth. Boom!! Like the first, another troop-filled aerial vehicle was destroyed in an instant. Others quickly followed. A meteor shower of burning metal rained down upon friend and foe alike, crushing those unable to get out of the way.

"Flies, buzzing all around. I judge you guilty of trespassing in these heavens. The punishment is death."

A few dozen feet above the ground stood Asher's lieutenant, the Zealot Metatron. His body glowed with the brightness of a sun, bathing the vicinity in a holy warmth; yet the destruction served from his fingertips was anything but. Cero after Cero fired from his hand, each bright enough to burn out the eyes of humans and Shinigami alike, blasting away the fleet of helicopters the Vandenreich had deployed to deliver troops to the front lines. Beneath him was an empty pocket amidst a tightly packed battlefield as even his own soldiers had begun fearing his wrath so as to give him as wide a berth as possible.

"Repent! Lay down your arms and accept your judgment with humility."

Metatron's alien voice continued ringing out loudly, as if he spoke through a megaphone. Though he sounded as if multiple voices were layered atop each other, he was of a single mind: destroy every enemy here. Lay waste to all before him. Prepare the earth for his lord's new kingdom. None would stand in the way.

AFRICA
"Incoming." Slamming a fist into the side of the copter with pattern, Lukas jumped from the vehicle as the pilot ejected, dashing forward along the air. Hirenyaku underfoot. Above him, the helicopter exploded with force, the cero scattering the shrapnel an impossible distance. Smoked poured into the sky, trailing the dozens of projectiles the hollow was tossing out.

"We don't have much anything on this guy, old man. But, looks like it has a nasty cero." Lukas' descent was controlled as he pushed forwards to Metatron, making a wide berth for any incoming blasts, or a ruined helicopter from above. Ahnengeist tight in his grip, silver eyes narrowed, intense focus on the source of the artillery.

"Going under." With a pulse of reishi from his heel, the quincy made to shorten the gap between himself and Metatron, caution on the back of his neck. "Think you can tag it?" Lukas shouted into his ear piece, narrowly side stepping an incoming cero. "Make my life a little easier."

As he sensed the oncoming energy blast, Johann was quick to follow his junior and the pilot, stepping out onto a platform of Reishi and launching himself forward and down in a sudden, furious display of Steigen. Rapid steps carried him to the ground, keeping pace with Lukas as Ullr immediately shifted into its Almsima form, a hand free to begin loosing arrows at a moment's notice.

"With how powerful its Ceros are, chances are high that it has variations and has specialized in them. Be wary, boy. We might not be able to get in close."

The creature's voice was loud, resounding with an echo as if in a cathedral. From how it spoke, it seemed to be under some delusion that it was an instrument of God. As Lukas surged forward, Johann remained in the back, drawing the bowstring back and readying an arrow.

"Unsure. I can try, but I won't guarantee anything yet."

Taking quick, but careful aim, Johann loosed a brief volley of arrows, one each aimed at Metatron's wings and legs. Should the arrows hit their target or no, the arrows would expand and a field of ice would form, slowing down Metatron's movements for those limbs. Taking in a sharp breath, he'd briefly divert his attention to those around him.

"Leave this one to us! Focus on the other Hollows and on evacuating the injured!"

Their allies were hesitant to flee, naturally so. But, with how much spiritual power the elder could sense from this Hollow, he knew better than to send these men and women to their deaths. For now, they could focus on more genuine heroism, to help those that needed it, even if much of it was a task without much glory compared to the creature that they were about to engage.

The old man's voiced became a hushed whisper as he recanted to himself the same phrase the last time he had engaged these threats.

'Ancestors, give me strength.'

Perhaps it was an ultimately futile and pointless plea, but it was one that brought him some comfort, however little it was.

Ullr Almsima:

"Hmm? Gnats this time?"

As Metatron spoke he turned to look at the two Quincies who ejected themselves from one of the helicopters he had reduced to molten steel. Unlike the rest who fled in fear, these two seemed to be approaching him. Delusions of arrogance. In the last major offensive he fought two Shinigami, and in the end they somehow managed to flee; this time would be different. The Zealot would allow no survivors.

The first of the two to approach kept his distance, so Metatron turned to face the grey one head-on. He watched in silence as the Quincy loosed a volley of arrows. Upon reaching him, the armored Hollow folded his brightly glowing wings around his body to act as a shield against Johann's attack. Though the arrows didn't manage to pierce his tough skin Metatron suddenly felt a significant temperature drop on his wings and body. No matter. By flexing his wings chunks of ice shattered and fell away, but more needed to be done to deal with the cold.

Reiryoku gathered in his raised palm before transforming into an incandescent golden flame, something he called Auriel's Fire. Instead of firing it was a beam, his usual use of the fire, Metatron held it aloft in front of him like the Olympic Torch. His fist enclosed around the ball of fire and then in a flash it exploded outward, spreading a burning hot inferno in every direction that threatened to engulf both Quincies. The fire would quickly disperse however, though some did remain: Metatron was now head-to-toe covered in bright orange flames which bathed the sky in his light, now appearing less like an angel of Heaven and more an agent of Hell.

AFRICA
"Listen to the old man, soldiers!" Lukas shouted back, a smile starting to form as the adrenalin hit his veins. The barrage of arrows did little to settle his heartbeat. "How much bigger can you make that, Johann?"

Wings are shields, does that leave the back vulnerable? As the ice crawled onto Metatron's skin, Lukas' thoughts had little time to solidify. The hollow preparing for some other form of attack, fire in the palm of its hand. His pace faltered slightly, turning to trace around the creature. A obvious loop to be opposite Johann, the wave of fire caught him off guard - responding with Ahnengeist, incapable of stopping them all.

Ripping off a now smoldering jacket, the quincy continued to move.

"Shiny." Leveling his spirit weapon forward, the shifting reishi at its core sprung to life - a thrust sending it forward as a barrage of arrows. Continuing to run behind the arrows, reishi condensed underneath his opposite hand, running over Ahnengeist. The current of steigen that formed within raring to go. "If we can get an opening, I'm confident."

'Of course it has some kind of fire-adjacent ability.'

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Johann made quick use of Steigen to move backward and out of the way in a flurry of quick, yet elegant and sophisticated steps. While he had the advantage of distance that allowed him more time to get clear, it also served as information. Not only could it utilize the flames of what seemed to be some flavor of Cero, but could use them as some kind of protection.

As Lukas spoke into the earpiece, Johann took a moment to reaffirm his stance.

"Not sure. Let's find out."

Taking a quiet breath in and sharpening his focus, the elder began gathered Reishi to form three arrows between his fingers. As he drew the bowstring back, he pooled more and more energy into the arrows, causing them to grow larger, colder, and even more potent. With eyes sharp as an eagle's and an aim just as true, Johann let loose the arrows.

As they flew, the arrows froze everything that they soared past: water, Reishi, even the air itself. Upon hitting either the ground or Metatron itself, the arrows would once again expand into the fields of ice once more, far larger than before, and enough to encompass the entirety of their adversary's body, should any limb or part of him pass through one or all of them. Each of them were lined up well for Lukas, should he choose to pressure Metatron into moving back into them.

"Keep the pressure on. This one seems to have a likening for flare and dramatics. Try and target the hands, too. Perhaps we can also cut off its ability to use its Ceros, at least temporarily."

Even if the fields or the ice itself was melted, it would not make the deficit go away. With how much more power that he had placed in these arrows, he hoped that they were strong enough to last against this creature's burning armor long enough to reapply and deepen the slowing effect. Despite this, Johann remained prepared, drawing a Seele Schneider from his belt, as well as four Ginto tubes, keeping his bow raised and ready for his next attack.

As the flies buzzed about around him, Metatron turned his gaze toward the battlefield far below. He watched in silence as the two sides slaughtered one another, a majesty of death and destruction proving the worthlessness of this world. Though arrows whizzed through the air at him, the Zealot couldn't help but be enthralled by what he was seeing; all of this in the name of his lord, and his lord's lord. Beautiful.

For every arrow fired at him, a Sun-bright Cero was shot back in kind; each able to overwhelm their counterpart and continue toward the Quincy tandem, causing screams from below to pervade the air as onlookers' eyes were burned from their skulls. These blasts didn't come from his hands, they just appeared around his body as if part of some automatic defense system. In truth, firing Ceros came as naturally as breathing or thought to the Zealot; all he needed to do was imagine it, and it would be. A gift bestowed upon him by his master.

Even as dozens of Ceros shot through the sky, Metatron continued ignoring his attackers. They were nothing to him. Insects with no ability to comprehend the splendor of his mission. Finally, after their assault had been defeated in its entirety, the Zealot turned his masked gaze first to Johann and then to Lukas.

"Your people have a sickness, a need to seek out their own deaths. I have been given the authority to grant you this wish. Take solace in God's mercy. Your loved ones won't live long in mourning."

Within Metatron's grasp a glowing golden sword of pure energy formed, the air around it distorting from the intense concentration of Reishi. He eyed his surroundings; hough Johann's arrows had frozen parts of the Reishi of Metatron's Ceros, they had been overwhelmed, leaving a handful of icy zones lingering in the air between them all. In a blink he was in front of Lukas, having dodged through the freezing zones, and blitzed the Quincy with a mighty, finesse-less, swing of Michael's Blade. Even with a slowing effect influencing him, it was clear Metatron was moving far faster than either of the Quincies in their current state despite his large size.

AFRICA
Not much of a distraction. Lukas lamented, the quincy's combined effort forcing out some level of response. From his position, it was difficult to gauge how much was retaliated with, the sheer amount of fluctuating reiatsu around them all the more frustrating to sift through. And all the more, Lukas was aiming for any moment, any opportunity to cut into the thing. Its monologue giving little insight but to validate Johann's declaration of theatrics. A heartbeat, and the hollow appeared before him.

The unthinkable; it had decided to close the gap on its own.

That'll do. Red flushed the man's veins as his reiryoku condensed, the flow of reishi that rippled around Ahnengeist exploding, rocketing Lukas forward with the combined force of his full sprint. A burst of speed caught between heartbeats, dissapearing past the mighty swing.

The blade would make no contact with the hollow's exterior, the quincy focus intent on his blade to shift it into the makeshift angel, materializing its edge on its - presumably - softer insides. Poised to puncture towards Metatron's heart, the direct target of where it connected wasn't so much Lukas' concern, more concerned with positioning himself to not be countered immediately by the apparitional sword.

The moment he could register any feedback of his spirit weapon cutting inside Metatron, the air around him would seize. Reishi agitating as it was vacuumed in, a culmination of crystalline blue as Lukas' letzt stil would tear into existence - a great plume of reiatsu enveloping the pair. Ahnengeist's shape expanded, eviscerating whatever it had managed to contact.