2014.03.22 - War of the Gods: Thor versus Darkseid

It took some time for Asgard to gather itself, and for all parties to be in accord with what was going to happen. Frigga was NOT pleased with this plan, at all. But since she wasn't a warrior, she held her tongue as preparations were made. All she could do was stand by and watch as her son and his warriors and his wife trained, hour after endless hour under the unrelenting Asgardian sun, until even Thor's great stamina slacked enough that he was sweating, arms shaking. And then the valkyrie would bring a Golden Apple and some mead. Thor would be fortified, and it would begin anew. Frigga stood by as all stood ready, the great halls of the Palace quiet. It was as if the very walls held their breath. Just as she did.

It was in a side room, the decor seeming muted against the splendor of the Throne Hall, that Father and Son stood facing one another. The silence between them was heavy. Heavy as a hammer. Heavy as Mjolnir. Heavy as the belt being passed. Megingjord, the Belt of Strength. Odin had seen the fight with Darkseid at the Heroes of Midgard. Odin knew the plan was not for Thor to defeat Darkseid, but for Thor to hold Darkseid. Hold Darkseid as far from his stronghold as he could. Hold Darkseid's attention for as long as he could. Hold Darkseid's interest in destroying the Golden Son of Asgard with all that he could. Odin, whatever you may like to say about his role as King or Father, would rather his child return with his Shield, not on it. The All-Father is well known to be high handed and for stacking the deck as far in his own favor as aesiredly possible. The belt would give Thor a boost, an added extra something. He knew Thor was going to risk anything, everything, so that his part of the mission succeeded. At it would only know success when Sif returned to the front. The signal was pre-arranged. She would appear at the front, near enough to be heard, far enough to not be in danger. She would call his name. And when he would turn to catch her gaze, she would smile.

And so, fortified by Odin, and having received his Mother's blessing (in the form of a light brush on the shoulder and a murmured promise to see him soon), Thor led the gathered forces of Asgard toward Darkseid's troops. His shoulders were back, eyes blazing from the moment he was before the gathered Asgardian forces. Proud did he ride toward the face of evil, and proud did he sound as his voice bellowed from his chest.

"DARKSEID! You who wish to play with Midgard, play with its denizens. You, who has declared himself an Enemy of Asgard, now finds the might of the Realms before him. The Hallows Halls of Fallen Warriors will not be defiled. So come to me, Darkseid! Send thy forces forth to face the Might of Asgard! Send thyself, if you dare, against the Odinson. Step forward and see if you can withstand the raging storm of an angry Thunder! Let the battlesong ring, here and now, your forces against ours; your might against Mine.

"You will fail, petty creature!" Pause. Lightning crackles in Thor's eyes and a hurricane grin curls his lips away from his teeth in a sneer. "You lack conviction."

The metal world of Apokolips has been gearing up for war, as well. For a week all leisure and recreation has been shut down. Genetic tubes have been cranking out Parademons at a rate Granny Goodness has been having trouble indoctrining them all. Superior weaponry and armor has been given out to those unworthy, on the understanding that success can mean advancement and failure will mean death. Lowlies of potential, who had prior not quite made the cut, were abducted and forced into training as well, mentally broken by DeSaad before joining in the massive training regiments for the Parademons. This is taken far more seriously than the incursion of Earth's heroes; that underestimation proved horrifyingly damaging, and sectors of Apokolips are still being repaired and fixed.

But Darkseid did not train. He did not lift a single finger. He simply sat upon his grandiose throne, fingers steeple. Waiting. Infinite waiting, still as a statue. He has remained in such a state longer than the lives of some on Asgard, who rose and fell to Valhalla without the God of Evil doing a single blink.

And then, through the power of Odin and Asgard, a great rip appears atop Apokolips. Broad enough for an entire glorified army to stride through, with Thor at the helm. The chosen battlefield on the scorched planet is three miles of segmented metal, hissing gouts of poisonous fumes high. In the distance are the huge buildings and structures, with a furnace on the horizon like a grand mountain spewing fire thousands of miles into the void, a deafening roar that casts heat on those present.

It is as if those of Asgard have truly wandered into Hell. A Hell that Tony was taken to by this monster. Every word spoken is heard from Darkseid's distant throne. Every threat. And he only smiles.

In a few minutes, the opposing army appears. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Parademons enough to blot out the skies. People on Aero-Gliders, wielding technology nearly magic; great weapons, supreme armor, huge shields, and weaponry capable of damaging amongst the most sturdy alive. Peppered throughout are a few dozen of the Special Powers Force, wearing unique uniforms. Each powerful metahumans further amplified by Apokolips, stolen from Earth or other realms, each one strong enough to be a potential champion.

Near the front is Granny Goodness herself, donned in a scale-like armor, metal gauntleted fists stroking her chin. Behind are a number of Female Furies. One gigantic and muscled. Another bound in clothes with a whip. Another seeming to be a harmless little girl dressed in lolita-style attire. And another floating slightly in place. Others look less potent, but only by those standards. "My, oh my. An actual war? How nostalgic of New Genesis.." Granny Goodness croons, in a voice impossibly deep.

And then, descending from the sky, are Grayven and Kalibak, the latter on an Aero-Glider. Grayven is resplendent in golden armor with crimson gems, arms crossed and with the bearing of a conquerer. Kalibak is massive, dwarfing any man in Asgard, arms like trunks with a mane of hair, wielding a long metal baton. But although he glares with intensity, it feels more the bark of a dog. The slightest hint of softness, hiding deep within.

"You dare challenge Father?!" Kalibak roars, pointing towards Thor. "There is no need for him to come here. We can crush every one of you on our own!!"

"No." Grayven states, eyes shimmering crimson. "I could do it myself, Kalibak. You would only get in the way."

Tensions heat and reach a boil, before suddenly a great presence falls upon the iron planet.

Darkseid himself, hovering in the air well beyond the front of his armies. He wears the same attire as before; Great blue armor inlaid in gold, with similar crimson gems as Grayven. Everyone on his side freezes, the feel of an army taking a step back outside his Elites.

"Thor, Son of Odin. You consider this your might? I overestimated the strength of Asgard. I had hoped Odin himself would come, so I might break him before your eyes..."

Suddenly he descends, and heavily slams upon the surface of Apokolips. Although the metal is strong as adamantium, it dents heavily beneath him. His stance did not change, still casual with arms behind. "But you will do nicely as a substitute. Cease the fearful barking of a dog. Come -- I shall put you in your place."

The Einhenjar shuffle for a heartbeat, emboldened by their Prince's proud countenance, his regal air, his bellowing threats. They cheer behind him, jotun roaring as well, as he hurls his insults. And the army comes. Asgard has faced such multitudes before. Surely they will always stand so ready to face these mutlitudes again, and again, and again, until Ragnarok's end.

The alien terrain is worrisome, as Thor slides his gaze over the gathered armies, but he refuses to show it. It would hurt moral for the Einhenjar to see his worried. So he grins, glancing to his sides, to his people.

"Lo! There do I see my Father," Thor begins. His voice seems soft, yet the raw power of the God of Thunder has the feel of his word rolling away from him.

"Lo, there do I see my Mother," Thor says, eyes settling upon a lieutenant near him. The aesir grins, nodding, and joins the incantation.

"And my Brothers..." A few others around Thor and the lieutenant take up the prayer.

"And my Sisters..." Thor turns his gaze to those on his left, the Valkyrie, whose higher pitched voice add to the chorale that has begun.

"Lo! There do I see the line of my people..." Thor lifts the volume of his voice as more and more of the gathered Einhenjar and Valkyrie join, heart and voice and purpose, to his Call. His eyes flicker with lightning as his gaze sweeps once more over the gathered. He smirks as Darkseid's son calls out to him. Thor never paues in the prayer, nor do the aesir. Not even when, their much deeper voice rumbling, the jotun join in. The language is not the same. The prayer is not the same. The intent, however, very much is. It's the harmony to the aesir's words, giving it symphony.

"...Back to the Beginning. Lo! They do call me. They bid me take their place among them..." Thor's voice rings out, loud and clear as a flash of skyfire. Mjolnir held aloft, runes glowing, as Thor tests his call of the Storms of this World. Alien clouds they are, but they swirl at his summons.

"Where mine enemies lay, broken, battered, and vanquished at my feet!" shouts the Thunderer over the din of combined aesir and jotnar voices as Darkseid appears, and the Enemies of Asgard freeze and seem to fall back a step. Thor steps forward into that silence. Into the softly spoken taunts of his foe.

Thor knows his place. In this, Thor knows exactly where his place is. It's to let Darkseid grow over confident. To let Darkseid think him enough of a child that it would hold his attention, keep him from noticing, from realizing. With gusto, Thor flings himself into his appointed role, and so he steps forward and points the relic of Asgard at Darkseid in naked aggression.

"Best me if thou can! I have fought bigger." A jotun near Thor seems to snicker.

"I have fought uglier." Another jotun near Thor seems to growl.

"I am unimpressed." This is Thor, at his most arrogant. And his gathered army laughs at Darkseid, only half as tall as the warriors Jotunheim sent to aid Asgard. We don't ask Loki what the bargain was, what boon, what favor. It's best Thor doesn't know. It would hurt his focus.

With the swagger of a Princeling, fool-hearty and full-of-self, Thor strides from the Einhenjar, the Valkyrie, the Jotun. Chin held high, giving Darkseid no sign of being equal, but rather of Thor's complete belief that the other God was his lesser, the Son of Odin and of Jord - the very Earth herself - strides toward Darkseid. Unafraid and yes, seeming very much unimpressed.

"I will accept thy surrender," Thor says in a loud undertone, as if he had sought to lower his voice and gift Darkseid a measure of privacy, so Darkseid could save his honor even as he tucked tail to run. Thor's 'inside' voice, and yet it carries on the wind. As does the hint of a smirk, that arrogant curl to his tone that calls Darkseid an unmanly coward with out using any words at all.

Darkseid, you hit like a girl.

There is no need for a rally cry from those of Apokolips. Darkseid never so much as glanced backwards to his men. But his presence can be seen emboldening them, in a manner that Thor could not deny as impressively effective. Every man is focused, at full attention, with the look in their eyes of a true warrior ready to enter battle and die. If Thor saw it upon an Asgard, he would be proud to have them at his back.

But the cause is so much different. It is not inspiration, but fear. This comes from the desperation of men who know there is only victory or death. Taking a step back is annihilation. If they are wounded, they will not be healed. And for each wound they inflict, each life they take, their station and status will grow. A pack of cannibalistic hyenas, constantly recycling so the mightiest reach the top. Despotic. Utterly evil.

But incredibly efficient. His leadership differs from Thor in every way, but in some facets might be more effective, when it comes to a battlefield. There will be no distractions from fallen colleagues. There will be no fear. There will be no possible break in morale. Dangerous in every sense of the word.

Casually, Darkseid walks forward. Step after heavy step. Not once did a single word spoken by Thor cause his expression to change. There is no anger. There is no fear. Only a sort of indifference. His own army made no response. No cheers. No encouragement. Remaining poised like tigers, ready to lunge forward. Only Granny Goodness and Grayven seem smug. Even Kalibak has a fearful uncertainty to him.

Each step takes him closer, more and more. And then he reaches Thor, standing high above. A huge shadow is cast across Thor, darkening him as if eclipsed by a moon, the infernal lights from Apokolips causing a demonic halo about Darkseid's form. Only those crimson eyes simmer, essence wisping up. The Heir to Asgard is the only one who would feel it. An intense, crushing weight of pressure on his mind. Gazing upon Darkseid so close is like looking into a sun, larger than a hundred planets, twisted and entropic. A gateway to powers twisted, terrible, and perhaps able to test Odin the All-Father himself. Some moments later, a great wave of similar force washes over all those of Asgard. The feeling of being an insect. The feeling of staring into the face of unfathomable power.

The feeling of staring into the face of death. A death beyond glory. A death beyond Valhala.

A death that leads to oblivion.

He only says a single phrase.

"Are you done?"

The weight of this whole plan rests on one simple fact: Thor will not back down. A quirk of a grin, a glitter of skyfire, and Thor waggles his eyebrows in a slightly suggestive manner right into Darkseid's face. Right into the face of Oblivion, into Void.

"I'm just getting started."

At that single phrase Thor throws the first blow fueled by the fear the Thunderer allows himself feel as a righteous anger. Because there is a soul at sake. A mortal soul. So much brighter, more vivid, than the souls of the aesir. For that soul does Thor fight. And for the Valkyrior attached to it. The longer Thor can keep Darkseid focused on him. Yes, THor may die. But if in his death, Sif can get Tony and bring him home, there is the victory. In that, Thor would have has his Glorious Death, as Tony had before him.

Let Oblivion claim him. Mortal souls shall be free.

"HAVE AT THEE!" yells Thor as he swings Mjolnir in a vicious upward arc. The mallet head crackles with magical power and lightning. The clouds above swirl. The Earth below heaves. Thor pours himself into that first strike.

Always make a good first impression. Fandral taught him that. Fandral also tried to teach him 'Leave them wanting more.' but Thor ended up subscribing to Hogun's philosophy of 'If they can still walk when you're done, you're doing it wrong.'

Surprisingly, Darkseid does not react at all. He makes no attempt to move, no attempt to defend himself. Eyes shift to the incoming hammer, making it obvious such is not due to the supremacy of speed and technique; he is aware. The blow is truly epic. A burst of thunder roars for miles around, as a great CRACK of lightning descends from the sky, hitting the pair with a roar as wild, vivid arcs spread across the metal of the planet. A great shockwave of force bursts, heavy enough to dent the nigh-adamantium a foot beneath.

Darkseid's face heavily deforms under the blow, before he is launched backwards with such speed that it seems a steel building miles away simply erupted, fragments of metal raining down across his assembled troops, forced to dodge and evade. A gaping hole is within it, almost fifty meters across.

Has Thor done it? Has he felled the God of Evil already? There is likely cause for cheer amongst all those present, and even the Apokolips armies falter, looking up with a mixture of hope and fear.

But then, a burst of the sound barrier breaking, before Darkseid descends. He lands heavily, and is slow to rise. A huge dent is upon his face, malforming it, large cracks seething out crimson energy. Teeth grit hard with a grunt and twist, before it pops out. Crumbles of stone cascade down, blood seeping from his mouth.

"I see. So that is your power, Thor, Son of Odin. Remarkable." His arms remain behind his back, still not moving to attack. "For being able to genuinely harm me, I shall acknowledge you as a warrior. Bravo."

"I am still unimpressed," says Thor, very calmly, very coolly, very arrogantly. Red cape flutters behind him, golden hair like a mane, spilling down past his shoulders.

"And I'll still accept your surrender," Thor offers again, lips curled upward in a cocky smirk of a grin.

Turning to the side, Darkseid spits out a large amount of blood. In truth, that blow was far beyond what he expected. Although he had fully braced himself, it was nearly the equal of the Man of Steel, striking him with all the power of no restraint and absolute rage. He had blacked out a moment, within that broken building. But such excites him truly, more then anything else.

Someone capable of a true battle.

"And I will refuse yours."

Eyes flash crimson, before an intense blast of Omega force rushes forward, twisting to the left, the right, the attempt to make it hard for Thor to intercept it with Mjolnir; one of the few items in creation immune to it's effects. But even so, the power behind it would be capable of sending Thor hurtling backwards, in a great eruption of energy.

"Let the duel begin in earnest, Chosen of Asgard."

Thor, ready for battle, is lucky to get his weapon positioned to defend himself. Yet the force of it, sends the Thunderer hurling backwards, into the unyielding ground. Skin tears, indelicate aesir bones protest. Thor growls and hauls himself upright.

He can hear Sif's voice: On your feet, Warrior.

With a primal battle cry, Thor summons a tornado and flings himself at his full speed at Darkseid. A Godly battering ram, channeling lightning with him as he dive bombs his foe. His blood sings to the ground beneath Darkseid's feet, to the very rock beneath the metal plating of this planet. It is a gift of his true mother, his birthmother, of Jord; Jord whom is called Gaea by the Greeks, whom is the very body of the Earth itself, who is the Heart of Midgard. The other part of Thor's birthrights, the blending of Earth and Sky.

"FOR MIDGARD!" shouts the Prince, heedless of the red blood trickling from a nostril, staining a line of crimson across one cheek from the windsheer.

The runes on Mjolnir and Megingjord glitter with unrestrained power.

And if Thor blacked out, he cared not to dwell on this fact. It is a detail better saved as embellishment to the stories told at Feast.

Darkseid brings up his forearms, bracing himself firmly as Thor rockets towards him with titanic force. Yet the thrum of energy within the ground of the God goes deeper. And deeper. Before extinguishing. This planet is dead. There is no heart of earth. No core. No life. It is metal, twisted fire, and... something unbelievably dark, sealed far, far beneath.

This, of course, makes what would have been a magnificent assault less capable. The power of Mjolnir strikes true, and sends Darkseid skidding backwards with a grunt, hiss of metal as his toes dig into the metal battlefield. The grey forearm armor has been shattered, falling around. Yet then he moves; explosively. Thor might not have known that the God of Evil had such speed. It is simple raw strength, pushing him forward with a great kinetic CRACK of the sound barrier shattering.

A huge arm moves to strike Thor in the face, leading to a twist to hurl him to the ground. Leaping up a good thirty meters, both feet press together before he roars in a descent, a driving spear kick. Hit or miss, the nigh-invulnerable ground splits upwards, denting and twisting for a dozen meters from the sheer strength of the New God.

Thor has heard tales of the power of this evil herald, one who can bring down Superman himself. But to witness it is another matter. "I fight for nothing but myself, Thor, son of Odin. Let us see if the weight on your shoulders crushes you like Atlas, or gives you strength...!!"

Truly, Thor had not encountered a dead world before. The sensation of lifelessness was stomach churning, and it lessened the thrill of the blow he landed on his foe. In the space Darkseid had occupied, Thor now stands. He spares a moment to glance down, eyes trailing toward the darkness, life eating force drumming at the edges of his senses. The crack of motion brings Thor's eyes back up.

Really, Thor -- that voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Sif rolling her eyes in his general direction -- Stay focused.

The blow sends the Thunderer reeling, and then sprawling toward the ground. Just enough sense and speed, though Thor finds himself woefully outmatched at that despite all of his work to keep up with and outpace the teleporting Valkyrior Sif, the Thunderer barely manages to roll out of the way; his cape was not so fortunate. The sturdy asgardian fabric tears as Thor forces distance between himself and Darkseid with a tight roll.

Blood trickling from his nose, heading ringing, one side if his ribs starting to complain, Thor rolls to his feet. Mjolnir is pointed at Darkseid.

"Thus shall be the reason fir thy failure," Thor states, eyes blazing a hot electric blue. Runes upon the relic flash and dance. The storm clouds gather. Skyfire streaks down to the hammer, then lances out at Darkseid. Thor is heedless of the potentil of a power backlash. He must pour all that he has into this blast, continue to keep Darkseid focused on him fully. An army waits behind, and Sif will come to his when the mission is done; his shield maiden, his valkyrior is such be needed. He need leave nothing to return home with.

At the moment, Darkseid is almost being playful. He's not moving at the fastest speed he can, but such is still a notch above Thor himself. In terms of martial prowess, the wielding of Mjolnir is is beyond him by a significant margin... he's merely trying to compensate enough to negate that advantage somewhat. It is rare to have a battle with a legend, after all. There might be enough people on the planet Earth that Darkseid could count on one hand which can bring him some thrill of combat. He rarely is forced to indulge in such things... but when opportunity presents, why rush? Although this is playing exactly into Thor and Sif's hands, in their bid to get to Tony and free him unaware.

The half-cape is picked up by Darkseid and rubbed between his fingers, before flinging it away to flutter in the roaring heated currents of Apokolips. "The truly strong need not look down to their lessers for aide. Morale is a worry of yours... not mine." The crackles of thunder creating a whirlwind of storm above seems intriguing, and Darkseid rather underestimates it. The blast of electricity hits him dead center, send him staggering backwards and almost knocking him from his feet. Arms raise to shield it, whirls of lightning dancing across his frame. Mild annoyance now.

Feet dig into the armored ground, before he kicks forward in earnest. He is no longer holding back. While Thor normally moves in a manner that makes mortals seem in slow motion, Darkseid's motion when he unleashes focused power to advance is many times that. Countless enemies woefully underestimate his speed based on his side... but only the likes of Superman or true speedsters fully outpace him.

Attempting to get within range of Thor in a heartbeat, he unleashes a storm of blows, the first aimed to stagger him in the face. Each is laced with crimson Omega force; the kinetic impact, despite ringing for miles and shuddering the entire battlefield, would not send him flying as the kinetic energy would be absorbed fully. This is nearly his full power. A full power that can break the bones of the Man of Steel. His aim is to then lash out his right hand, and grasp Thor by the wrist holding his legendary hammer... to twist, and then yank down to bring the elbow upon his knee with apocalyptic force that would shatter a mountain!!

Thor's roar as he challenges lightning at his foe echoes. His voice fades as the lightning flickers its last, and Thor's eyes widen at seeing Darkseid charging forward. The Thunderer has just enough time to brace when the blows are upon him. That first punch staggers him back a half step and breaking his cheekbone and nose. The blows are too fast, too many, and Thor is hard pressed to attempt to parry any of them. Ribs break cleanly, teeth are knocked free, arm is caught. Thor's eyes start to widen when the sharp crack of pain lances through his arm and the fingers of his right hand open reflexively. Gritting his teeth, Thor does the only thing he can think of to give himself a half inch of breathing room as Mjolnir begins to fall.

Headbutt. Foreward kick. Give Darkseid a nudge away. Summon hammer ot left hand, swing on a back hand while pulling injured right arm in close against his shattered chest.

It is strange, that Darkseid has only bothered to use the Omega beams a single time in the entire fight. Many believe it to be the reason he is nearly omnipotent, and such a monstrous opponent to face. Yet he has simply empowered his body, reaching the heights of might only the Man of Steel himself has consistently displayed. With a superhuman dexterity, and sufficient toughness to even take a full-power strike of that weapon, there are likely few who consider this to be a good tide of events. His body is blackened by lightning and his chin heavily dented and bleeding, but that is the extent of the God of Evil's rounds.

Yet such tenacity in the face of a broken arm is surprising. He's struck right in the face by Thor's forehead, grunting as eyes squint shut and his upper body sways backwards. That was like headbutting a mountain, but the intention was done. Whirling around, his own left arm shifts up, catching the Mjolnir in the middle of a braced forearm.

He is knocked skidding three dozen meters away, scratching into the adamantium-like steel of the battlefield. A huge dent is in his forearm once more, hissing out Omega essence. "I did not think you would be able to fight me with one arm. But you vastly underestimated my strength in the battlefield, Thor, Son of Odin. Arrogance and confidence are not a tool in many cases. In other, they are suicide."

Suddenly he blinks, and turns to glance back towards Apokolips, as if on the verge of sensing something. That's not good. He is omniscient amongst the entire planet, and if he caught a blip of Sif's infiltration, the force of his powers would find her instantly... he has to draw his attention back, and in a way he cannot possibly ignore!!

The momentum of Thor's blow over balances him and he straggers, nearly dropping to a knee. Stars of pain dance before his eyes. Well, one eye. The other is quite swollen shut. He would have paused longer, waited here to try to catch his breath, but Darkseid's rumbling words baits him to look up.

And spot Darkseid turning to look at the compound he knows Sif was infiltrating. His woman. His ShieldMaiden. His wife. Thor growls.

The sound is feeble, at first, Thor's strength flagging. Sensing the impotence of his own growl, and unwilling to 'lose' - in so far as defeat means he could not hold Darkseid here until Sif was at his side - Thor's eyes darken into storm. A cold bitter wind blows. Thor pulls himself up start, all sensation of pain and fatigue lost to the Warrior's madness that rings through his veins.

"I'm not done with you yet," growls the Mad Thunderer, voice heavy with threat and battlelust and insanity. In his grasp, Mjolnir glows her complaint. But hor ignores this, and charges forward. All his speed, his strength amplified (above what the belt gave him), his body moving without regard for the extra damage he does to it as he goes. To those gathered, it appears as if the mighty blows only staggered the Prince of asgard for a moment, and he is once more at his best.

Well, except that he is wielding Mjolnir off handed, but we can overlook such thinga, yes?

The sudden resurgences of energy distracts Darkseid, having thought Thor was at his limit; he had the time to spare to pay more attention to the energy signatures on Apokolips, and there were some irregularities. But such is not uncommon by any measure. However the mighty forces of Asgard might be responding to Thor's condition, whether they wish now to surge into battle, not a single person amongst the countless behind Darkseid appear to have so much as blinked. Only Grayven looks mildly disappointed. Kalibak and Granny Goodness? Unsurprised.

"Done? You were done when you descended on my world to challenge me alone. I have heard of the pride of you, Thor, Son of Odin. Is the life of one petty mortal worth this? One who is MINE? Are you trying to send me a message? If so... the message is that Asgard has proven a much lesser threat than I would have thought." Odin, however, was the true reason Darkseid had been uncomfortable going to war. But he's not present on the battlefield... either his strength is mightiest in his own universe, as Darkseid postulates, or that the act of coming to Apokolips for war might end in mutual death. Or perhaps, if he is truly blind, he allowed Thor this insanity and put in him his faith.

"Come, then, mighty Warrior. Although if you fall to me... you will not be going to Valhalla." He then fires a blast of Omega beams, but they are slow. Listless. Zipping and zapping as Darkseid stands with his arms behind his back, Thor does not have to block this time. Darkseid is in a rare moment of indulgent arrogance... a sudden burst of Madness-granted speed would slip past the ability to track, and leave the God of Evil helpless in that moment!!

Helpless to a Berserker is never a good thing. Thor attacks, and attacks, and attacks. His relic an indelicate instrument of destruction. Bolts of blue white magically empowered lightning flashes over and over, sound tracked by crashes of heartstopping thunder. Thor, rallied, fortified by berserker rage, brings a rain a torrential downpour of blows. He seems tireless, as if fresh to the battle. He seems endless, as if all he has ever known is battle.

Darkseid makes a critical mistake here. Thor lunges upwards, and with an expression of muted surprised, he tries to bring the Omega beam back around. But Mjolnir meets his face before he can make contact, and there's a horrendous sound as he's SLAMMED back first upon the nigh-invincible ground, ripping up a long divet from it. His nose is broken and blood pours amidst gout's of Omega force. He begins to stand, only for Thor to be upon him again. A heavy blow strikes him in the shoulder, driving him to his knees, another caving in the front of his chest as his armor shatters into a thousand pieces, before a massive uppercut sends him spiraling head over heels into the sky with the immediate crack of breaking the sound barrier.

Suddenly Darkseid's eyes widen, and a glance is thrown sideways. "KALIBAK! GRAYVEN!" Kalibak makes a desperate Boom Tube, hurling through it, but Grayven looks nonplussed. "Yes, Father?" He knew what he meant, but another blow from Thor sends Darkseid hurtling into a distant building, horribly denting it enough the entire skyscraper rakishly tilts a few inches to the left. When he hurtles himself forward, Darkseid is breaking heavily, almost all of his armor shattered, body deformed in many areas as wisps of Omega force leak out from his vessel.

But no longer is he trying to toy with Thor, either.

This time when Thor's weapon is swung, Darkseid lunges forward, entire body roaring as he condenses that cosmic force to suffuse his body. A terrific blow, exchanged for one that impacts him in the shoulder. Again and again, they begin a final, violent struggle. Multiple sonic booms rip through the air as they seem to dance around the battlefield in a deadly waltz, occasionally one being launched into the ground or a structure, only to leap back out and into the fray.

But at the very last, Darkseid rears back both of his arms, seething his strength into both muscled limbs. Thor manages a swing, that slams him in the face; but due to his manipulations, this time the kinetic force does not send him flying. Jaw cracking out of alignment, face twisting away, he still moves to suddenly SLAM his fists together upon Thor's head, hard enough go cause a thunderous noise that would cause even the armies of Apokolips to wince in discomfort. Slowly Darkseid teeters backwards, yanking his jaw into alignment as eyes dim... Did he hit? Was that enough...?!

Thor too stumbles backwards, the Bserker Rage the only thing keeping him to his feet, and even that now is beginning to dim. Thor's chest plate is shattered, the bruised skin now more purple and black than fair aesir is visible. As is the awkward angle of the protective cage of bone beneath the skin and muscle of his torso. His hair is dark from blood and sweat and mud and rain. There is a moment of silence. A pair of ravens flutter down onto the crossbeam of an Asgardian pennant held by an aesir warrior.

And in the silence, Sif appears at Thor's side.

"Donar," the Goddess whispers to him, drawing his attention. His breath whistles and gurgles in his throat, one eye swollen shut. Sudden tears in her eyes, the Vaklyrior brushes her hand along a broken cheekbone. How hard is it to smile? In the face of Thor's battered form? It takes nearly all the Goddess has, to pull the corners of her mouth up into a soft, gentle smile.

There's a blink from Thor, as if it took a half moment to recognize her, and then Thor responds, the grey fading from his gaze so that the one good eye clears like a summer sky after a storm. The blue sparkles gently, and Thor smiles back.

Fails to draw another breath.

Grows slack.

And falls to the ground at Sif's feet, spent.

A raven flutters from its perch and flies away.

The moment he collapses, Sif hits her knees, eyes wide and searching. "Donar?" Her voice is so small and broken... Tear trickle slowly, her chest heaving. "Beloved..." She sounds so lost... Her fingerstips caress along his cheek and through his hair... And when he doesn't respond... Something flips in the Goddess.

With a tenderness that none had ever seen her display before, she lays her husband on the ground and gets to her feet. Slowly, she walks towards Darkseid, her sword drawn and split so she weilds two blades. As she walks, she's whispering. And when the whispers stop, so does Sif.

A red glow surrounds her. Her voice is dark, a near growl. "I will bath in your blood and use your entrails to string my bow, you pathetic excuse for a God."

Her eyes... always her tell... Have lost the silver-blue to go pure, bright, blood red. And then she lets loose. The swords, blessed by Odin himself that never dull and are capable of slicing through vibranium, move in a flurry of motion. One blow after another.

And when the Goddess is hit? It doesn't matter. She gets up, teleports in and attacks again.

There's no words. No battle cry. No sound from the Goddess aside from when bones break, which she can't help, and the sounds of battle.

Darkseid is breathing heavily, and has assuredly been hurt. Few people in this universe can damage him to such an extent alone; whatever madness ran through the Asgard put him on the same level as a rampaging Superman. Yet such is not beyond the God of Evil... although assuredly nearly his equal. A slow wipe of his chin draws away a large amount of blood, flicked aside in a splatter on the steel ground. He seems to seethe out Omega energy now, from the many cracks and dents inflicted on his gigantic form. "An impressive performance. He caught me off guard. Take him, Sif. I longer have a use for him."

He turns away, before the rasp of steel is heard and he pauses to look backwards. "...What?" he states, snorting in disbelief. "You dare claim me not a God, when I just crushed Asgard's champion? What can you d--"

Suddenly Sif is upon him. She strikes him in the neck in a sideways blow. It strikes, and cuts deep; had Darkseid not been made of sterner material, he would have just been beheaded. Stumbling backwards, his forearm catches a few more slashes, cleaving in deep. Blood and energy poor forth, but he manages to begin defending himself. Although even boosted, in melee the titanic figure is faster still. It's her teleporting that keeps catching him off guard. An attempted Omega beam ends in a horrible rip down his side, and then with a mighty thrust Sif would manage to impale him through the back of the shoulder, jutting out the front.

Rather then be crippled in pain, he whirls with a roar, intending to strike her with his full force; one capable of shattering a mountainside or leveling an entire skyscraper, moving with an intense speed and well-honed accuracy that belies his size. "Enough...!!" His voice is weakened now, but his power has not. Until he breaks down, he will not weaken, even if the strain of using his powers risks such destruction more and more... "You dare attack me now, when our duel is settled?! Is this the honor of Asgard?! So be it!!"

Sif flitted about Darkseid, never standing still, never giving her foe the chance to catch sight of her long enough to get a strike in. Darkseid's first lucky hit was a graze, and it sent Sif sprawling amid the sound of bones breaking. Midtumble across the ground, Sif teleported to his side. She turned that rolling tumble into a spinning slash at his forearms before vanishing again, narrowly avoiding the Omega beam. Reappearing behind her foe, Sif impaled Darkseid in the shoulder. Had she been thinking clearly, had she not enchanted herself - thusly causing a second raven to flit from the aesir banner to follow after the first - perhaps Sif would not have done so. The Valkyrior teleports, but that which she is touching goes with her. Feet braced upon Darkseid's back, her blade sunk deep into his flesh, if she teleported now, he'd go with her. She must take that half heartbeat to backflip clear, to pull her blade from his body, so she can get clear of him enough to teleport away.

Berserker Rage is not condusive of clear and rational thought. Foresight is a laughable memory in the red haze of Battle Lust.

Darkseid whirls.

Sif has just gotten her blade free, feet bringing to push off.

Darkseid connects.

Sif goes flying the relatively short distance to the ground, where she impacts, does not crater it but instead lands with a dull wet-sounding shatter of innerds and bone, tumbling into a sprawl near Thor. Right hand on her blade, her left outstretched, palm up, bonelessly on the ground. It is Shakespearan how close her fingertips come to brushing Thor's, his own right hand on the ground, palm down. As if, this close to death, they still reach for each other.

Sif's chest struggles to rise. The broken ribs protesting. Torn lung gushing crimson blood.

Above the army, in that space between the front line and the fallen warriors, a swirling vortex appears. Flashing rainbow light flickers about, then coalesces onto knotwork.

Here, now, stands Odin Borson, All-Father King of Asgard.

His golden armor gleams, despite the dark skies of this world. His blue eye blazes with something no father's should ever have to, and yet with sons such as Thor and Loki, often have to. Baldur is the Good Son.

"Enough," is all but whispered, horse and rough. The sound booms across the battle field with soft power. A subtle motion of hand and the AllFather summons the broken bodies to him. The healers press forward to gather around them quickly.Odin's one azure eye gleams at Darkseid as the Bifrost opens again and the aesir and jotnar fall back to Asgard. Silence is Darkseid's only answer from Odin, as if the All-Father has no want to waste words on the God of Evil. The flickering glow of the Bifrost fades, leaving the planet once more shrouded in its darkness.

Darkseid is breathing heavily, the air around him boiling with Omega energy spilling from his damaged body. Something near cold fury is in his eyes as he begins to stride forward, each heavy thump echoing heavily in the surroundings. It's likely that Asgard's side is about to spill forth into battle, but it would be impossible to reach them before the God of Evil. A gigantic foot hefts up, aimed towards Thor's head.

But before it descends, Odin himself appears. Darkseid pauses, and slowly settles his foot down, stepping away with arms behind his back. "They attacked me of their own accord." he states, with the smug pride of something Odin knows very well to be the truth. "Worry not. ...I will not make this a political issue, as you have with a single mortal soul." The massive armies of Asgard are gone now, Darkseid shifting slightly to brace his stance. Ngh. That was an uncomfortable experience.

"HE'S WEAK! HE'S WEAK!" roars a voice amidst the crowd. Suddenly Mantis bursts into the air, the green-armored parasite pointing a hand. "WEAK!!" Grayven shifts his stance in a flutter of cape, but makes no immediate move. In a burst of motion, Mantis charges straight towards the God of Evil from behind.

Darkseid lifts a hand, and a blast of Omega Force whirls out. Mantis is forced to stop, catching it, and absorbing it. But he makes a hiss of discomfort, as the entropic cosmic energy is... unpleasant. He has also yet to get his Power Pod fully working, leaving no true ability to siphon it away. "What... are you feeding me?! Do you think--"

Darkseid's eyes roar crimson. So intense, it is as if a red sun is upon Apokolips. A massive beam is suddenly fired, each one flaring out to nearly a meter in width. Mantis' eyes widen, and he shoots straight up. They follow. "Damn... DAMN YOOOU!!" He's struck, ensconced in the energy and then launched far into the distance, absorption abilities overloading as he blackens and falls to ashes.

Grayven slowly maneuvers a step backwards as Darkseid glances his way. The last attack has caused many star-like cracks of sizzling force around his eyes. But even seeming a step from defeat, in the shadow of falling, not a single person left in the entire army dares make a move against him. "Our game is over." There's a crack of a Boom Tube, before Darkseid turns and walks through it without haste back to his throne, collapsing behind.