Chapter 32 #2
I divide cell from cell. Stem from stern. It doesn’t matter if the substance is of this plane or any other.
I am not just the angel of War.
I am a god.
I vibrate the innards of the creature, my own fury fueling my work as I fling my arms out when I’m in the blinding inner core amid the transformed energy it feasted upon earlier.
The creature explodes, bits of it blowing outward into space.
I exalt in my power as I continue on to the next creature. It does not even run from me. One after the other, they absorb me and I destroy them, rending it from the inside out.
It’s only after several that I realize how easy it’s become and that I myself have begun to glow. Not just the glow from the angel-spark that I so rarely shine forth. No, I’m glowing from the tips of my fingers. I feel the heat bursting forth from my eyes, my belly, and the tips of my hair.
I’m being transformed by this, absorbing some of their digested energy as I destroy them. The Devourers are feeding me in a way I never anticipated. It makes me able to move faster and with even more deadly intensity.
When I’m done with the entire line of creatures, I’m far from the sun but feel no cold. I’m burning up, instead. I’m alight with power.
I am now truly a god.
More than any of my brothers. More than my Father-Creator. More than any beast or spirit from any realm.
Finally, I will no longer be forced to battle in endless futility!
I can win.
I can CONQUER!
All my father’s useless victories will be a pittance compared to the greatness I will achieve!!!
I laugh into the emptiness of space, the sound swallowed by the void but echoing inside my skull. Inside our skull.
And then I remember.
Whatever power I have just gained for myself can never be mine alone. I do not own my body.
I’m just a temporary passenger.
Forced forever to… share.
Unless—
My arms lift of their own accord, trembling with possibility. The power inside me surges, eager and ravenous. I can feel it now, the exact neural pathways that make him him. The way our consciousness splits and tangles and fights for dominance.
It’s not fair!
It’s unendurable! To be a god of limitless power, leashed to a parasite!
But then I laugh again, a great, body-shaking chuckle that comes out more bitter than triumphant.
Because, of course, I don’t have to endure it.
I AM A GOD.
And for the moment, I am still in complete control of this godly body.
I have the ability to divide cell from cell. My brother and I have been at war from the day of our birth, but now I know how to conquer him.
I finally have the knowledge to simply cut him from my body.
I will destroy him and be left in blessed solitude, alone to my own thoughts and all I want, with no one threatening to take it from me the moment my eyes close in sleep!
My breath comes faster.
This is it.
This is what I’ve wanted for millennia.
Freedom.
A body that’s truly mine.
No more waking up to find he’s undone everything I worked for.
No more feeling him judge me, hate me, wish me gone.
I shut my eyes and fling my arms out.
A buzzing starts in my ears, and I see it so perfectly, what I could not before. Perhaps it is the bursting energy inside me; perhaps I was willingly blind out of some misguided affection or reliance on the parasite who was only ever holding me back.
But I see him now. Our body in golden outline projected perfectly in my mind and the exact lines demarcating where I can cauterize the neurons that are him so that only I remain.
In my new godly state, what seemed impossible is now child’s play.
His outer face will be easy to slice off, then I can grow hair where he once was so that finally, finally, I will be a whole man.
I exhale in satisfaction, imagining how her eyes will glow when she sees me flying down to her in a triumphant return. Alone. Just like the first moment I met her.
I remember the moment so well, burned into my memory. Eyes wide in shock and then interest, she all but glowed when I announced my intentions and raised her hand as a volunteer to be my consort. The only brave one as everyone else fled.
Her bravery has only continued to impress me, never once turning her face or embrace away from me, no matter what the circumstances of being with me have thrown at her. Not missiles or strange creatures from other planes of existence or—
Or him.
The power builds. I can feel the neural connections lighting up in my mind like a map. There. And there. And there. Just a few precise divisions and he’ll be gone. Forever.
My arms tremble. The buzzing gets louder.
I begin.
The first cut is surgical. Clean. I feel it slice through our shared consciousness, severing connections that have existed since before we drew our first breath.
There’s resistance. Not from Romulus—he’s still asleep, unaware of what I’m doing—but from the body itself, trying to maintain its integrity.
I push harder. More power. The glow inside me flares brighter, hotter.
The second cut goes deeper. I feel something shift, something fundamental in the architecture of our being. Like a building losing a support beam. The buzzing becomes a roar.
“I always dreamed of finding adventure,” her voice whispers through my memory. “But I also dreamed about finding someone who’d fight for me. Not just fight with me around, but for me. Ya know?”
I grit my teeth and continue. Third cut. Fourth. I’m halfway through the separation now, and I can feel Romulus starting to slip away. His presence, always there in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch, begins to fade.
Good. This is what I want. What I’ve always wanted.
Fifth cut. Sixth.
And then I feel it. The moment his consciousness flickers. Not asleep anymore. Something worse. Dying.
Our body spasms in space. Pain lances through me—through us—and for the first time since we were forged, I feel truly alone inside this skull.
It’s working.
Seventh cut. Eighth. Almost there.
“There’s plenty of love to go around,” her voice says, soft and certain. “I don’t understand why you two think it has to be divided up like there’s only so much to go around.”
I falter. Just for a second.
The power wavers.
What will I tell her when I return? That he was lost in battle? That the separation just... happened?
My arms are still raised, the power still building for the final cuts. Just three more and he’s gone. Three more and I’m free.
I’ve wanted this for so long.
But I see her face in my mind. Not awed by my power. Not grateful I survived.
Disappointed.
“Trust is earned,” she’d said to me once, early on. Standing up for herself. Setting boundaries. “So it’s fine for you to command me to tell you things, but I can’t ask about the elephant in the room?”
She’d demanded honesty. Demanded we treat her like an equal, not a possession to fight over.
What would she say if she knew I’d killed my brother without even asking her? Without even giving her a choice in what our future looked like?
The fire inside me flickers.
“Hey, no. What, are you two big men gonna go and decide the fate of the little woman without any input from me? That’s bullshit.”
She’d been furious. Rightfully so. When had we decided to do something that affected her without including her in the decision.
And this—killing Romulus—this would affect her more than anything.
I frown, the first real doubt creeping in. What will she say when I tell her what I’ve done?
At first, my anger only sparks hotter. What should it matter what some mortal thinks of what I, a god, do? I do not bow to the whims of a mortal from this inferior plane!
But even as I think it, I know it’s bullshit. The kind of bullshit I’d have spouted a month ago, before her. Before I knew what it meant to actually love someone more than my own pride.
In my mind’s eye, I can see her face when I tell her. Not angry—worse. Disappointed. Like she’s looking at the man I was, not the man I could be. The man she makes me want to be.
Already, though the deed isn’t even done, I feel her withdrawing.
My arms fall slightly, and the light inside me seems to go cold.
Reminding me how cold and lonely I have been these many, many millennia.
What use is it to have all the power of the most almighty god, ruling the whole world or all the realms, if one rules alone? Haven’t I seen enough earthly despots make the same mistake?
I will be different!
But I’m already shaking my head.
I don’t want to be alone.
I don’t want to see that look in her eyes. The one that says she thought I was better than this. That I could be more than just chaos and destruction and taking what I want regardless of who it hurts.
The devil’s voice in my head, which sounds very much like my Creator-Father’s, whispers, And when she chooses your brother like everyone else does and you’re alone anyway?
I roar into the silence of space and crash my fists against my head, the power stuttering, unstable.
What if the Devourer’s fire within me goes dormant, and I lose this one chance to excise Romulus from me? I’m a fool to give up the opportunity when it’s finally within my grasp.
I can feel him dying. Just three more cuts and it’s done. Three more and I never have to share again.
I lift my arms again, shaking my head as my fury rises. I cannot be weak now. Everyone knows who I am. I’ve been told often enough throughout my entire life how I’m an untrustworthy asshole. How I’ll always fuck everything up. How destructive and selfish I am.
Is it really even my fault if I prove them all right in the end?
She’ll still want me. It’s me, after all. I’m a god, more powerful than ever, and she wanted me before when I was a far weaker version of myself. It is weakness that’s even made me stall this long.
My arms rise higher. The power builds. I can see the final three cuts so clearly.
“You’ve made my pointless existence worth living,” I’d told her, and I’d meant it. Every word.
But what’s the point of living if I’m alone? What’s the point of power if the only person whose opinion I care about looks at me like I’m a monster?
She never looked at me like that. Not once. Not even when I deserved it.
She looked at me and saw someone worth loving. Someone capable of more than just destruction.
Was she wrong?
The power flares. The final cuts are right there. One thought and they’re done.
But Romulus is dying now. I can feel him slipping away, his consciousness fragmenting from the cuts I’ve already made.
And suddenly, with brutal clarity, I understand.
This is the choice. Not between power and weakness. Between solitude and sharing.
Between being the selfish asshole everyone expects and being the man she believes I can be.
“I love you,” I’d told her before I left.
Did I mean it? Or was those just pretty words before a suicide mission?
My arms tremble. The power screams to be used.
Three more cuts.
Or—
I could undo what I’ve started. Use this power to heal instead of destroy. To connect instead of divide.
But that would mean sharing. Forever. It would mean trusting that there’s enough love for both of us. Trusting her when she says she wants us both.
It would mean giving up this one chance to be free.
The power pulses, eager, waiting.
Romulus’s consciousness flickers again, dimmer now.
Choose.
“Fuck!” I roar into the void, and the sound is anguish and fury and something that might be grief.
Because I know what I’m going to do.
I’m going to prove every single person who ever called me selfish and destructive and untrustworthy absolutely right.
Or—
I’m going to prove her right when she looked at me and saw someone worth loving.
The power builds to a crescendo. One more second and the choice is made forever.