The Pantheon Project

On a cold winter morning in the heart of the Appalachian mountains of southern west Virginia a small black food truck pulls into a parking lot of a local market near a small community college. “Zach's Taco Truck” printed in blue over the gloss black paint job. The small store would not be open for an hour and the sun would not be up for two. Getting out of the truck he busied himself setting up for the day.

The man operating the food truck was known to his customers as Hero. By name he introduced himself as such. He never wasted time defending it and gave most comments about it a giggle and changed the subject when anyone asked about his name. Not that he was overly humble; he just didn't want to take the time getting to know anyone. Working for himself in foodservice that was also mobile meant he never had to really get to know anyone.

Only a small group of people knew the truth of his name. That it wasn't his name at all but a title. One Bestowed on him by the people, the first civilization of mankind. Several thousand years ago on a small group of islands miles from the coasts of pangea where dinosaurs roamed. The people were taught how to survive in the wilds by the first pantheon. Hero was no immortal and was no god. He had simply been given the gift of unexplainable medicine that even modern doctors would call advanced and beyond their knowledge. Befriending and joining the gods of the first pantheon taking the place of their guardian the god of violence after killing him in open combat he had been given many gifts among them was a shot that kept him from aging normally. For every few hundred centuries that went by he would age but a year.

Walking around the outside of his food truck, Hero opened the window and set up the canopy. A small red car pulled into the parking lot driven by a thin older woman with long gray hair. As always with a cigarette hanging from her mouth, the only time she was absent was while behind the counter inside the store.

The staff of the market was allowed to eat for free as part of his payment for taking up space in the lot. And the older lady would be out for her usual fried egg and bacon on toast.

“Want anything to eat?” Hero asked the old lady with a happy smile as she approached before opening the small store.

“Why do you ask? You know I do and I know you already have it made.” She said as she slipped some money into the tip jar and walked away with her breakfast.

It would be some time before he got busy with college students on their way to class. This would be his second year working in this location and had quite a few regulars and knew when to expect the rush. Looking around to make sure all was ready, vegetables cut, meat cabinet stocked and the grill at a good temperature. As he surveyed the area his eyes constantly went to a metallic purple sphere. Something everyone thought was nothing more than an attractive paper weight or decoration. They had no clue they were standing next to one of the most advanced pieces of technology on the planet that was also not of this world.

The purple communication sphere was given to him as a gift by the goddess of vitality thousands of years ago. It is part of a paired set, no matter the distance if both spheres are being held at the same time the two people holding it can speak with each other. A person holding the sphere on earth could speak to the other person holding its twin on a different planet across the galaxy as if they were standing next to each other. Nothing could break or intercept the communication other than letting go of the object.

It had been several weeks since it had been used. The goddess of vitality had given it to Hero for his aid to the people during the great catastrophe. Well that's what she had led the other gods of the first pantheon and her high priests to believe. The truth was they had a secret affair. A forbidden love and she gave him the sphere more out of her love of him then his actions during that time. They talked regularly of her desires to return to earth and be by his side as she was bound to the council. Her duties never allowed her to return.

Hero knew many gods over the eons. Nothing more than advanced humans visiting a planet to help in the advancement of intelligent life. There are two types of pantheons sent to planets with intelligent life, Those sent with a purpose to accomplish and once their primary goal is achieved they simply leave. The shortest of these missions can take centuries to accomplish. The other type are those being punished, groups of men and women banished from the heavens and sent to a primitive planet without a way of getting off. The easiest way to identify a banished pantheon in history was their need for human sacrifice. Thankfully earth was no longer deemed as eligible for a banished pantheon once the first man was carried by jets and rockets sometime in the 40’s or 50’s. The remains of at least ten banished pantheons were still walking the earth. To Heros' knowledge the remains of at least six banished pantheons were in South america.

“Good morning!” A friendly voice said, drawing him from his thoughts.

“Good morning, what can I get you?” He replied happily for a task to get him from his thoughts.

“A B.L.T. please.” The young woman replied.

Before he was finished with her order four others had joined hers. Hero took orders while he cooked, calling out orders and prices as he went. Once it started it wouldn't stop for a few hours when he would shut down, take a break and set up for the evening.

After passing out the last order and waiting several minutes without any customers, he flipped off the open sign hanging in the window and stepped out the back door, closing it behind him and lighting a cigarette.

“You know those things can kill you.” A familiar voice said to Hero.

Looking up, Hero saw his friend Eddie walking towards him. Currently known as Mr. Derringer by the students of the local college, a teacher of ancient history. Edward came to earth with the first pantheon and was known as the great engineer and god of waves. Once his pantheon completed there ultimate goal of ensuring intelligent life survived the great catastrophe. Eddie chose not to leave the planet and decided to stay as a liaison between the planet and the ruling council of the universe.

The two had been friends since before recorded history. Hunting banished pantheons and occasionally aiding those sent with purpose. After helping the first pantheon and the ruling council of the universe Hero was known as the second god of violence and slayer of banished. The first god of violence was killed by Hero. Hero stood champion and openly challenged the god of violence and guardian of the gods. Lagos the god of violence was planning a coup to overthrow Cerux the god of time and leader of the first pantheon. At Cerux bidding, Hero challenged the god of violence. Hero of course had his own reasons for challenging the god.

“Do you ever stop thinking of forgotten times?” Eddie said as he sat down on the bumper of the food truck with his friend.

“Yeah I usually stop after my third bong trip when I get home. Speaking of which.” At this Hero pulled a THC Vape pin from his pocket taking a long draw from it.

“After you close up for the day I need you to come by the house.”

“Why?” Hero asked before going into a coughing fit brought on by the pin. Eddie never invited Hero to his home. Eddie liked to keep mementos of the past and he had a lot of them. Hero didn't take pleasure in the memories seeing some of the objects provoked. Hero had his own personal collection of items gained over the years kept in the safety of Eddie's luxury home. Yet every one of them held purpose and was functional unlike the items scattered around Eddie's home meant for decoration, nothing more than trinkets of amusement and conversation pieces.

“Someone wishes to speak with you.” Eddie said without looking at his friend.

“Holy fuck are you kidding me! Who the fuck would want to see me that would require a visit set up by you in your…...OH SHIT! Please tell me it's not your father. Tell me the ruling council of the fucking universe does not want to see me.”

“That's exactly who is coming.” Eddie said with a giggle. Can we go inside the truck if you're done smoking? I want to make my lunch.

“Head on in i'll be a moment when I'm gonna finish this.”

Eddie fixed lunch as Hero started cleaning up and shutting down. Knowing he would be too distracted with the coming meeting to work the rest of the day.

“What time should I come by?”

“Meeting is at six.” Eddie said as he leaned against a counter eating his sandwich.

“And you really have no idea what he wants.”

“I had no idea he was in this galaxy.”

Hero finished up his closing routine and prepared the area to be moved as Eddie finished his lunch. Looking to the purple comm sphere in the corner he wished Kazamy would contact him. Kazamy was daughter of Cerux and brother to Eddie; her insight into what Cerux was doing in this galaxy might help. But she would probably be her typical self, overly pleasant, cheerful and happy to talk about anything that wasn't important. The way she could tiptoe around a conversation was maddening.

“I'm off to my next class. I'll see you at six. Come prepared, you never know what could happen when the council is in the neighborhood.” Eddie said as he stepped out and shut the door behind him.

Wasting no time he ran outside lowering the canopy and shutting the main window used for serving. Jumping behind the wheel he pulled out heading home. A small one bedroom apartment located in the downtown area of a small city. It was a run down apartment building occupied primarily by junkies and cockroaches. The type of place no one would ever look for a god.

The sparsely furnished apartment was well suited for the simple man. He wanted for nothing and needed nothing more than what he had. Going to his bedroom he opened the closet door revealing a tall and wide safe. Looking at the safe with no dials, no key holes or buttons and only a handle to turn that would only work under his touch. During the trials of the first pantheon the god of death had given Hero a very special tattoo inlaid with god metal that ran from his chest down his arms across his palms all the way to his finger tips. Eons ago Hero thought they were just strange hard lines running at angels and ending in small circles or squares. Now he saw it for what it was: a circuit board connecting muscles and nerves. The tools and weapons the gods used are powered by the very electrical pulses of the body. The gods wore special gloves and gauntlets that amplified this electrical pulse. The first god of death gave Hero the tattoo so he could wield the weapons of the gods. He was the only person of the people to pass all six trials of the gods during the time of the first pantheon.

Grabbing the handle and hearing the hum of the locks and opening the safe. Inside was the sword of the first god of violence. Its black unadorned handle and flat cross piece hung out of a leather sheath two inches wide and two feet long. Pulling the sword from the scabbard and looking at the blade it had a swirl to it as if the metal was liquid and moving. Holding the sword out in front of him and changing it from the simple two edged sword to a rapier and then into a machete with a angled tip and point with a saw blade as the back edge and then into a small gladius before returning it to its original shape and sliding it back into its scabbard.

Tossing the sword to the bed he grabbed a bag from the bottom of the safe and tossed it over by the sword. Hanging from the door of the safe was a curious object made of the same black material as the hilt of the sword. Only the entire length of the object was made of the black material. It was about two feet long with a grasp in its center. What appeared to be balls of flame capped both ends of the handle. The legends called it Zeus thunderbolt. Minus a god glove or in Hero's case tattoos it was a useless object. But with the proper equipment one could use the device to turn their own heart beat and electrical pulses into lighting bolts.

Overkill he thought for such an occasion as a meeting with a member of the council. He continued to scan the safe for items that would be needed. On a top shelf of the safe sat a small medallion the image on it faded long ago yet it still would serve its purpose. It was a teleportation trigger. Pressing on the medallion in a certain place would instantly teleport them to a beacon stored in a different location. Most ancient gods place their beacons in their personal chambers and in different key temples. The beacon for this medallion was on the wall of an alley near a hospital known for having a very good emergency room. Putting the medallion around his neck he continued to scan the items in the safe for anything he may need.

He was not worried about Cerux or had any fear of the council. What now concerned Hero and had him examining his arsenal of weapons and defenses was the threat posed by surviving members of banished pantheons that would love to take down a member of the council and get access to his teleport key where the beacon was hidden in his ship undoubtedly.

Hero continued scanning the continents of the safe. A auto injector with a shot of the serum granting long life hung from the back of the safe. The serum was forbidden to be made on underdeveloped worlds. It's why banished pantheons required human sacrifice. Human blood was used to make the mysterious liquid. With the proper machines and technology a single donated pint of blood can make several shots. Without that technology the banished gods needed gallons of blood to make one.

This shot was recovered from a concentration camp in Germany during world war two. Odin had hidden himself away among the Germans and used one of their camps to gather what he needed unhindered. Hero had killed Thor almost two thousand years ago shortly after the Norse pantheon was banished to earth and started conducting human sacrifices. Needless to say Odin was still pissed at Hero and would probably also love a crack at Cerux. The man did sit on the council that banished Odin and his family. Maybe the Zeus thunderbolt wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Grabbing it and tossing it to the bed along with a leather belt lined with pouches he closed the safe and sat on the bed slowly examining the objects he hadn't needed or used since he and Eddie came to America after world war two.

Eddie was looking for something in the mountain ranges of the American continents. And the two had been zigzagging the country from mountain range to mountain range since the end of world war two. When they first came to America posing as refugees escaping war torn Europe. Eddie never explained why he went places Hero simply followed enjoying the nomadic lifestyle.

He stared at the bag for a long time before opening it. The bag contained his god robes. A special robe made of a special material that made its white shine impervious to almost anything. Nothing could mar its surface or fade its impressive shine. No bullet or blade could penetrate it. It was meant to make a person stand out as a symbol to the people while being functional armor as well. It was something he hadn't worn in almost 500 years when a gathering was held by the council in which only gods could attend. And if you were called to a meeting with the ruling council for the universe it is best to dress the part.

After taking off his shirt he paused to examine the tattoos. Lines like on a circuit board crossed his arms and chest. Flowing from straight lines and angles to a swirl of circle patterns over his heart. During the time of the first pantheon the gods held trials. The god of death conducted a trial of pain. At the time no one knew the god of death had used the trials to conduct an experiment. The gloves and gauntlets the gods use to power their weapons are custom made if a pair is never made for you by the council then you simply will never wield a god weapon. Until Hero. Hero was the only one to survive the week long ritual of non stop tattooing and gilding. The gilding was the part that killed most of the participants, the pain of the special metal being laid one drip at a time in the middle of the black lines. The same black metal that made all the weapons of the gods was part of the intricate tattoo covering most of his upper body.

Wrapping the sleeveless robe around him and over the cargo pants and slip resistant shoes he wore his usual work attire, he put on the leather belt and cinched it into place. Grabbing the sword he went to the living room taking a seat on his couch. On the coffee table in front of him was a large pile of marijuana and various pieces of paraphernalia . Grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time he let out a sigh. It was only two p.m. He had four hours to kill before his meeting with Cerux. Eddie's class would let out at four so the earliest he could leave for Eddies was hours away.

Grabbing his phone and turning on his Pandora music app he rolled a blunt and thought about the coming meeting. Godsmack unforgettable was playing when he lit the blunt as he began pacing through his apartment. What could a member of the council want with him? He held the title of god but to the gods he was not one born among the stars and was looked at as the lowest among them. Eddie was the go between and he was the one they always dealt with.

What if something happened to Kazamy? His heart sank at the thought. What if Cerux was here to inform Eddie of the death of his sister. No that wouldn't be it Cerux would deem that a family affair and would not want Hero there. He breathed a little easier thinking she was safe.

After finishing the blunt he put on the sword using a bandoleer strapped across his back so the sword hilt rested by his right hip. He tucked the robes into his pants before putting a large hoody on covering his god gear. Sitting down he rolled one more blunt to smoke on the walk to Eddies. It would take about 45 minutes to get there. Grabbing his headphones he headed for the door. Hero had other means of transportation, a Honda cbr500 in a storage unit a couple of blocks from his apartment being the nearest one besides the food truck.

He walked because he chose to walk. He had lived his life a thousand different ways and the one thing he learned repeatedly over the centuries: anyone you befriend while you live a life of luxury can not be trusted. Among the poor and common trust could be found and gained and friendships trusted because no one is looking to gain anything from you but your friendship. The motives of the elites could never be trusted. So he lived his life as meager as possible. Not wanting anyone to know of his material wealth.

Winter was on its way in the mountain state, a cold wind whipped leaves around Hero's feet as he walked down the street lost in thought. Once he was traveling a section of road without any other pedestrians around he pulled out the blunt pausing in his march to light it. Hero had discovered marijuana and its effects thousands of years ago while on a different continent. He had experimented with various drugs. What person living for thousands of years wouldn't give everything the world had to offer a try. Marijuana was his vice of choice.

Finally reaching Eddie's home, a large house in a wealthy neighborhood, he leaned against the tall rod iron fence and waited. It was 4:30 Eddie would be arriving in his custom convertible Mercedes any minute. He was ever the spoiled one, always having the finest of everything. He enjoyed flaunting his wealth. Eddie was a financial genius and knew how to work the system. That and knowing the location for the Greek pantheon's treasure horde was helpful.

The gates next to him started to open as the black convertible benz pulled into the driveway. Driving past Hero he headed straight to the garage. Hero walked past the gates as they closed and headed to the front door and waited. It wasn't long before he heard the clicking of locks behind him.

As soon as he entered the foyer of the home he was greeted with dozens of memories. The walls were barely visible due to all the cabinets shelves and cases holding items on display. This was probably the largest personal collection of historical artifacts on the east coast and no one knew about it unless invited into Eddie's home.

Eddie must have gone to prepare as Hero was left alone. He knew his way around the house; one of the guest rooms in the 4 bedroom home was actually a room set up for him. Opening the door to his room was like walking into a three dimensional timeline. The centerpiece of it all is a suit of armor on a mannequin opposite the door making it the first thing anyone sees. The helmet of a samurai sitting over the chain mail and furs of a viking in one hand a scutum, a rectangular shield curved to protect and fit around the body, the lower half of the mannequin was covered in medieval plate mail.

Every piece of armor had been used in combat by Hero. The Helmet from early sixteenth century Japan, a gift from Hachiman the Shinto god of war for helping in the siege of Osaka. The helmet was black and blue in tribal fashion of the time made of the same black metal as the other god weapons the helmet was unbreakable. A blast to the face from an arquebus did not scratch the surface but the thought made Hero's ears ring recalling the moment. The chain mail was made by Eddie and the furs gathered by Hero in sixth century Scandinavia while hunting a banished pantheon and was the very armor hero wore when he killed Thor. The shield was highly damaged and battle scarred yet if you looked close you could still see in the faded discoloration of the wood from a crest. The crest of the roman republic adorned it until being removed by Hero when he took it from a dead legionar during the third servile war where he fought for Spartacus's rebellion. The shining plate armor covering the lower half always made him laugh. He only wore the armor once, hating it full plate armor was so restricting for a true warrior. Sure they looked like awesome fields of men in their shining armor on horseback but if knocked from horse the armor became more of a hindrance than an aid in Hero's opinion. The full plate armor of a samurai was much more flexible and mobile then the European counterpart. It was made for heroes by order of the king of Wessex around 1100 and for defending Europe against viking raids.

“You should be getting ready,” Eddie said from the door.

“I should have shut the door.” Hero countered.

“Hurry up, he is here. I'll come back for you when he is ready. Before you ask, ``No, she is not with him.” After returning a flip of the bird back to his old friend Eddie left the room shutting the door behind him.

Removing the hoodie and adjusting the robe he walked around the room. Reminiscing and enjoying the nostalgia as best he could. The area looked more like an armory than a bedchamber. On the wall opposite the bed was a collection of primitive ranged weapons. The wall by the bed is a collection of assault rifles, sub-machine guns and some tactical gear. Two dressers stood on each side of the mannequin, one with a collection of semi-automatic handguns on it, the other a collection of revolvers. Various swords and blades of all shapes and sizes adorned the wall behind the mannequin and dressers. Next to the bed sat a barrel filled with a wide variety of spears.

Less than half was used in actual acts of violence, yet if it was in this room an exact match had been used at some point in Hero's life. Hero didn't waste time on pieces merely for decoration as everything in the room was functional. Except maybe the shield it was well used and is now well aged and rather brittle a strong punch would probably break the once impressively strong shield that withstood countless blows.

Having his fell of nostalgic thoughts he climbed into the bed to try and clear his thoughts and think on what Cerux wanted. Cerux was pretty much one of the supreme rulers of the universe with an army of gods under his command. Gods, nothing more than a race of humans that can't die of natural causes.

A knock at the door pulled him from the thought. Getting up from the bed he saw Eddie entering the room. “Let's go.” Eddie stood glowing in his white god robes, being more traditional and showing his place as a god that used his wits not his muscles he wore no weapons or leg guards or pants. The robe and sandals was all he wore.

“Still no clue on what he wants?”

“No he told me and you're not going to like it.”

Hero's heart pounded in his chest.

“He wants to speak to you alone. I'll be right here.”

Hero walked in silence the rest of the way to Eddie's office. Cerux waited sitting behind an elaborately carved wooden desk. He had long gray hair that hung down to his shoulders. Wearing his god robes shining white.

“Sit down, we have no time for formalities.” Cerux commanded.

Hero said nothing and did as commanded. This man was to be respected and feared. Hero knew what the man was capable of. As cold and calculating as he was driven and passionate.

“Odin has Kazamy.” Cerux said bluntly.

“How? Where?” Hero said, jumping from his seat.

“After you fought him in Germany he went to south america with the other Nazi refugees. We lost track of him during this mass migration. We have tracked the signature of a god weapon to a villa in Brazil. It was Gungnir.”

Hero sat back down realizing this was his briefing and the god would not pause or repeat himself. When he was done speaking he expected action not questions. Odin last used Gungnir to escape Hero and Eddie in Germany. He now used it to draw Hero in.

“Kazamy has been in Midwest America posing as a chemist spying on a pharmaceutical company thought to be working with a banished pantheon in Peru to create serum. While looking for connections between the two entities in Peru under the guise of being on vacation she went missing. Two days later the god weapon was used. Eddie has the location. Bring back my daughter.” Cerux disappeared after giving his order leaving Hero to his thoughts.

Hero's thoughts and fears swirled around him. His heart pounded and his lungs seized in his chest. For thousands of years Hero had lived in hopes His goddess would return. The women he passed the trials for. The women he spoke to of dreams and hopes of reuniting with someday. For how long had she been back. How many years had she kept the truth from him. Feeling like a compressed spring he got up to find Eddie standing in the doorway.

“She's been here for three decades.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Hero questioned letting his anger slip out in his tone.``

“It was forbidden because she was performing duties for the council. The council, knowing your thoughts and desire for the woman, feared you would break her cover but wanted you close by.”

“Break in case of emergency.” Hero said to his lifelong friend and companion. A phrase they often used when talking about how the council used the duo never getting them involved till the last minute when there were no options left and the situation was spiraling out of control.

“Can you be at the airport in three hours? We will leave soon as possible.”

“I'll meet you there in two.” Hero said as he walked away from Eddie heading back to his room to retrieve his street clothes and samurai helmet made of the rare god metal. Facing Odin it might be needed. Hero ran back to his apartment building. Stopping in the parking lot at his food truck to grab Thor's hammer from the glove box. A three pound ball ping hammer made entirely of the black swirling metal capable of building a charge that was unleashed when the hammer struck a surface.

His heart raced and thoughts swirled as he drove to his storage unit. Why hasn't she told him? Hero had known the love of many women in his life and told Kazamy about them but she was his heart beat. Never letting himself get involved with any women for more than a few years to help pass the time. Keeping himself available for her return. The more he thought of the betrayal the more his heart broke. He needed to remove these thoughts from his head.

He walked to the 24 hour self storage faculty. The well let area provided plenty of light to see inside the storage unit. All it held was one small crate and his CBR500. Inside the crate was a pair of hi tech tactical boots. A low hum came from the boots as they powered up when he buckled them. The boots were made from god. It was a rather common item among the gods that absorb kinetic energy allowing the gods to jump from unbelievable heights landing uninjured and unbelievably useful when riding a motorcycle, making it possible to jump from the motorcycle and hit the ground running while doing almost 100 miles per hour as the boots absorbed the kinetic energy caused by the forward momentum of the motorcycle. The downside: It was impossible to stomp on a bug wearing them.

Not wanting to think he sped off forcing his mind to run on instinct as he raced to the airport. It didn't work. It was only a little after seven and in the early hours of winter night he had forgotten it was so early and the traffic was heavy. Trying to calm himself knowing there was nothing he could do to get there any faster he thought of Kazamy and when he first met her.

For years he lived as an untaught among the people. Making his home in a complex of caves on a cliff side where the goddess temple of vitality sat. Where her high priests spoke of a healthy lifestyle being the key to a long life. On many nights heading to his home in the cliffs he would see her standing there looking across the ocean at the stars. Till one evening during the time of the trials she decided to walk down the hill and say hello. “Hello!” Standing there with a speared fish in his hand under the stars a goddess decided to walk over and say hello. How her long black hair flowed over her shoulders as loss strains drifted in the wind. Her god robes hugging her form. At that moment he wanted to be the wind pressing the robes against her feminine curves.

Was it all a lie he thought to himself? Why would she speak of the future they desired only for her to return without telling him? Was she simply keeping him in check for the council? Did she care for him at all? His sadness started to become overwhelming at the thought. Letting his anger build at the frustration of the slow moving traffic he focused his thoughts on Odin.

Banished by the council, for reasons no one ever deemed Hero worthy of knowing, Odin was sent to earth with a small group of his followers around 400 a.d. Creating a society of warriors that terrorized the known world for hundreds of years. Fearless in battle willing to face any who stood against their god celebrating death in battle. Fanatical in their devotion to the gods of the Norse pantheon their greatest warriors would submit themselves to human sacrifice in belief they would get to stand with the gods in the heavens. Nothing but lies. Their deaths hollow and meaningless the deed performed so their blood could be collected and used to manufacture the serum that extended the gods lifespan by centuries.

Not only could the serum grant an unnaturally long life to a normal healthy person, if given to a sick person battling a terminal illness it could cure it, if given to a wounded person it could seal the most fatal of wounds almost instantly. The potency of the serum used up healing instead of granting long life. In ancient times it's how the gods pretended to have all mighty healing powers.

The gods hid all of the tech and science from primitive man knowing the populace could never grasp the concept of the items they possessed. It was just easier to say it was divine power than to explain medicine to someone who didn't even know what soap was.

The security guard at the gate for the airport recognized Hero pulling up on his motorcycle. Getting out to get a closer look of the helmet he placed his hand on his gun, always cautious of people until he saw their face. Pulling to a stop, Hero removed the helmet.

“What? That is bad ass man, where did you get it?”

“A friend made it.” Hero said, looking at the man as he showed his I.D while avoiding eye contact. This was a good man and Hero showed respect but let it be known he was in no mood for idol conversation.

“So you headed to Eddie's hanger.”

“Yes. Is Eddie here yet?” Hero asked.

“Not yet. Want me to radio the hanger when he comes through.”

“No need.” Hero said as he put on his helmet and pulled away.

It didn't take long to get across the airfield in his current mood. Parking in the back by the door he removed his helmet hanging it from the handle bar so he could see the keys. Inside the hanger Hero was greeted with a strange smell. He couldn't place what it was, it wasn't bad or unpleasant nor did it smell like perfume or cologne. It was just a smell that didn't belong. Walking to the edge of the light shining through the door his hand slowly went to the hilt of his sword hidden under the hoodie. Walking and sniffing looking for the scent. Knowing if he walked straight ahead he would be standing between a personal jet plane that could seat twelve passengers and a decommissioned black hawk.

Several moments passed standing in silence at the edge of darkness letting his eyes adjust.

“Hey, why aren't the lights on?” Eddie said as he walked through the door towards the power box.

After turning on the lights Eddie walked between the two aircraft standing in front of Hero. Raising his hands to his side and shrugging his shoulders as if in question to why he was standing in the dark.

As if in answer two men jumped from each aircraft in a rush. Hero grabbed Eddie by the color of his coat, throwing him back towards the door. Drawing his sword with his other hand ready to meet the charge which didn't come. Four people stood in front of him, one of them obviously a norse man wearing leather gloves, a fur vest, leather pants and holding a hand ax. Mostly covered in tattoos and piercings he walked to the front of the troop and began to say something.

All anyone heard was the sound of thunder that ripped through the hanger. Followed by a flash of lighting that blasted through the Norse mean as arcs of lighting hit the others. The main arc of the blast hit the doors blowing them open.

“I Have no time for this?” Hero said as he put Zeus' lightning bolt back in his god robes under the large hoodie as he went to retrieve the motorized dolly used to remove the aircraft's from the hangar. Eddie looked for signs of the Norse men among the four charred bodies as he loaded the helicopter and climbed in to begin his flight checklist.

"You're going to owe me a helicopter. If this bird doesn't make it out of Brazil?” Eddie said to Hero after he joined him in the cockpit and put his headset on.

Police cars were pulling onto the airfield as the decommissioned Black hawk painted black and green lifted into the air. Flames from the wreck of the doors danced in the wind surrounding the approaching authorities.

“They won't catch us, don't worry.” Eddie said.

“That's not my concern. What time will we be there?”

“We will be there sometime tomorrow morning depends on how long it takes us to get refueled in Florida before continuing south”

Hero reached under the seat grabbing a laptop and pulling up google earth. Entering the coordinates into the search bar an image of a large building with a red clay rough surrounded by jungle presented itself. Knowing his target he looked for a spot Eddie could park. The villa presented zero possibilities. A couple miles from the villa was a field capable of setting the helicopter down. But nowhere to refuel. Continuing to use google earth he searched for airports finding one 75 miles from the villa.

“Can you make it 75 miles after the drop and do you have your passport?” Hero asked.

“Of course I always have mine. I have a spare for you somewhere in here as well but i dont have one for Kazamy when we try to leave.” Eddie answered.

“There is a place you can land a couple miles north of the villa after you refuel. At most it should take you three or four hours to refuel and get there while taking me an hour max to clear the villa, get rid of the remaining two Valkyries, kill Odin and find Amy leaving me with two or three hours to get through two miles of uncharted jungle. Before whatever army Odin has aligned himself with shows up.” Hero closed the laptop as he stopped talking and returned it under the seat.

His thoughts go to that of the remaining Valkyries. Odin came to earth with eight at his side. Two died trying to protect Thor in ancient Scandinavia. And three were killed in Germany during world war two. That left three of them, not two. Myth was the Valkyrie chose who got to live and who died from those that lay among the dead and carried to Valhalla to be by their gods' sides where the Valkyrie served the great host. Truth was they went to those closest to death so they could collect blood from those bleeding badly so Odin could make his bootleg serum. It didn't matter if the wound was fatal, it became fatal when the Valkyrie started pushing blood from it. And they definitely did not serve mead and meat to anyone but Odin.

A french dialect came across Hero's headset asking something about a blue ball. Turning to look at his pilot, Eddie simply returned a look and a shrug. “Just play the game, it'll occupy your mind.” Eddie said sympathetically.

Hero replied in french saying I have not seen your blue ball. And then continuing in mandarin he asked Have you heard a dog bark? A game of simple answers and questions made to pass the time and keep different languages fresh in their heads. Answering a question in the language it was asked followed by a question in a different language. The game would go on to tell a question or language was repeated; they could play for hours. They had forgotten more languages in their travels than there are currently spoken ones.

Anyone listening to the game after more than an hour would think it drunken babble followed by insane laughter.

Several moments of laughter passed when Eddie turned to Hero and in a very serious manner told him in american dialect. “You owe me a good weapon.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well that guy back there in the hangar was probably Tyr the god of war and treaties of the Norse pantheon he was probably there to broker a deal at a minimum you could have killed him without melting a god weapon in the process.”

“I was in a hurry and needed the doors open.”

“Oh and speaking of you owe me for a door, acts of gods aren't covered under my insurance.”

“You know technically we are going to save your sister right?” Hero asked, barely able to hide his smile.

“Man fuck her you know what that bitch did to me when we was kids.”

Hero could no longer take the game and was laughing again. “I'm done with you.” Hero said, shaking his head as removed the head set and leaned back to try and get some sleep before they stopped to refuel.

“We will be over the villa within the hour sir you better go get ready.”

“What the fuck I slept through the refueling.” Hero said, rubbing his eyes.

“Fuck! I forgot my helmet on the bike.” He continued to rant as panic set in waking up from such a deep sleep with so little time to get ready.

“Don't worry I grabbed it, it's in the back.” Eddie said, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb.

Wearing the god robe and samurai helmet made of the special metal he was impervious to all but god weapons. Looking at his hands knowing they would be scorched with blisters before the day was over he examined the black lines with silver centers running from his fingertips across his palms and under his sleeves. When the god of death to the first pantheon put the tattoo on Hero as an experiment most dropped out, unable to handle the pain of a palm being tattooed. If you couldn't handle that you would never be able to endure the pain using a god weapon caused without the gloves that powered them. Numerous men passed that portion; it was the chest tattooing that killed the ones that could endure the pain. Many fell to infection that survived the first day getting the palms done. His mind went to his friend Andrew who left with the first pantheon after the great catastrophe but came back as a banished god.

Banished for his experiment on the hero. The council ruled the experiment his greatest achievement, Hero , was capable of two very unique things. Using any god weapon he picked up on earth and opened any door with a lock made from the god metal. They celebrated his genius at achieving such a thing and during a primal time period with no medical or technological resources. And condemned him to join the Aztecs in banishment. Andrew was not banished for creating a super weapon he was banished for creating a skeleton key that could take anyone to the council. And it's why Hero and Eddie avoided most of South america. Neither had brought up the fact that it could be Andrew with others from the Aztecs that Odin was working with and who they could be running from in the aftermath.

Climbing into the back and pulling off his hoodie he adjusted his god robes checking the contents of pouches along the belt as he clenched his god robes into place over his cargo pants and jump boots. Zeus' thunderbolt was tucked away in the right side of his robes. Thor's hammer the left.

“How long?” Hero yelled.

Eddie pointed to the head set by the door. Grabbing the headset and putting it on he repeated the question.

“Dude you look fucking goofy.” Eddie said laughing

“Fuck you its functional.”

He didn't wait for a reply, removing his head set and standing in the doorway watching the red roof from google earth getting closer. His heart pounded and he felt the black hawk speeding up. Standing one hand on the door the other holding the thunderbolt. Suddenly the black hawk rolled hard swinging the open door parallel to the ground banking hard to the right. Hero was slingshot from the helicopter in the general direction of the villa. Swinging his arm hurling a thunderbolt towards his feet and direction of the red ruff then crossing his arms and going straight as a board knowing the soles of his boots must touch the ground first.

**********************************************************************

Standing in the courtyard of the villa A very old yet virile man stood wearing a bright looking black robe holding a spear made from the black god metal. Tendrils of scarring peeked out from under an eye patch with a long gray beard. Sounds of a helicopter in the distance began to approach.

“Bring the son back alive, the other is mine.” Odin said, speaking in old Norse.

Two tall blondes and one raven haired female all dressed in similar fashion. Tactical combat gear covering t-shirts and fatigues along with metal wings. The two blondes exited the court yard first with hard flaps of their wings sending dust around. The raven haired Valkyrie stepped over to Odin, giving him a kiss before taking to the air following her sisters. And out of sight. Seconds later Odin heard a crack of thunder in the middle of the day without a cloud in sight. Followed by the sound of his villa exploding. “The god of violence has arrived” Odin said in old norse.

**********************************************************************

No one was prepared for Eddie's dump move over the villa. Least of all Hero who fell more then jumped from the helicopter and only meant to use the thunderbolt to blow open the ceiling. Eddie performed the maneuver simply because there could be Valkyries in the area and didn't want them on his helicopter. Looking to the ground at the villa as he performed the maneuver he saw the raven haired Valkyrie leaving the courtyard and running straight into the path of Heroes thunderbolt.

“HA” Eddie laughed excitedly.

"Oh Shit.: he said in a panic as one of the two blondes landed on the door of the black hawk. When Eddie first came to earth close to ten thousand years ago it was his second ascension into godhood and the third planet he had lived on. His favorite thing to do during that unmeasurable amount of time was to fly. The valleys and hills of rolling jungles surrounding the villa in Brazil it would be easy to shake a couple of flying ladies way too eager to get close to him. The second one landed inside the black hawk as it continued to bounce and roll with the terrain pitching hard left and right keeping the two Valkyrie hard pressed to hold their footing. Suddenly the black hawk was level and the Valkyries scrambled forward. Laughing and just continuing to fly straight Eddie flipped a switch as a series of collapsible bars sprang almost instantly from the floor. Flipping a second switch the doors closed and the entire helicopter filled with gas. Eddie continued laughing “Dumb asses” he said as he put the gas mask on and slowed down to let the helicopter fill with the powerful sleeping gas.

Stopping and hovering in the air he let the black hawk fall with the gas. Flipping the switch to shut the gas off and waited for it to clear. Both females were safely asleep behind bars he turned around and shot them both in the head. In a fight gods did not differ between men or women there were combatants and non-combatants. Eddie did not take pleasure in the deed; it was just simply something that must be done. And he really didn't want to damage such valuable equipment like a twin set of Valkyrie wings. He held a simple view: don't fight a god if you don't want to die or lose your stuff.

Eddie had enough money to bribe his way on and off the nearby airfield and have his helicopter refueled in no less than four different currencies secreted in the black hawk. Without a care in the world Eddie turned on the radio and enjoyed his flight along the coast.

**********************************************************************

Hero stood in the middle of the villa, debris from the shattered ceiling strewn around him. Flames started to grow on the ceiling. The building was empty, no furniture , no interior walls. He began to yell Odin's name holding Zeus' thunderbolt in one hand and his sword in the other.

Odin carried a spear of incredible power that could project a powerful beam of energy capable of a sustained blast. Without fear Odin boldly walked into the room. Sounds of his spear clanking against the cement floor as he used it like a walking stick echoed through the large area.

“Where is she?” Hero asked.

“They are close and alive, stop using that tongue that is offensive to the ears.” Odin said continuing to speak in old Norse, while referring to the English language. Odin preferred simpler tongues that made it hard to mix words with hidden meanings. Hero also knew Odin didn't like the language as its root words were based in Latin. Odin hated the Latin language as Rome and the Latin pantheon ruled virtually all of the land south of his barbarian tribes. Keeping him pinned down in the frozen north lands. Hero thought of speaking Latin but decided he wanted this to be over quickly for Kazamy's sake but always the asshole Hero went with German. Refusing to give him the pleasure of a conversation in his own tongue.

“Tell me where she is?” Hero said in an ancient dialect of German he learned from gladiators that hailed from lands east of the Rhine when he fought with Spartacus.

“Put down the thunderbolt so we can talk as men.” Odin replied

Hero did as he was told and tossed the thunderbolt off somewhere to his left. The thunder bolt could easily be countered by Gungnir's energy blast. It's how he escaped him so frequently in the past. It caused massive devastation to the surrounding area but unfortunately Gungnir was the perfect counter to Zeus' thunderbolt.

Tossing Gungnir to the ground and removing his robe he stood there in a pair of black leather pants bare chested and wearing the leather gauntlets needed to power his god weapons. His Massive chest leaned and cut muscles hard as stone. Odin pulled Ragnarok from the sheath at his side. A massive two handed sword holding it in one hand at the ready. Sending waves of energy into the blade it began to turn red. “They are beneath us. The stairs are that way.” He said pointing the sword to his right easily as if it was nothing more than a stick.

Refusing to break eye contact first, not taking the bait to look in the direction he pointed, Hero sent a surge of energy to the sword in his right hand willing it to take the shape of Ragnarok. When this didn't make Odin break eye contact, Hero reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out mjolnir as he kicked his samurai helmet over near his thunderbolt and out of the way. “Why did you run from me back in Germany, your son was at least man enough to accept his fate.”

Sight of the hammer would have been enough to prompt Odin into action. Hero just wanted to get the last word in and insure the man came at him. Bringing his sword up from his right across his chest to block Ragnarok and using an upward swing with Thor's hammer knocking it high in their air. Changing his sword instantly into a small rapier Hero charged in thrusting with the small thin blade repeatedly. Hero learned fencing from a man named Arthos in late 16th century France, his thrusts perfectly aimed and steps flawless.

Odin took several stabs from the small blade considering it nothing more than a nuisance. Swatting at the blade like he would a swarm of flies as he backed away. Knowing if properly placed one of those stings could be fatal. In the blink of an eye those thrusts became slices of a katana as the blade gained length, width and a gentle curve. Swinging the katana harder and harder with every slice.

Odin, knowing he was getting close to a wall and running out of room to back away, pressed his attack, going into a rage and accepting a nasty slice across his chest in order to gain his footing and bring Ragnarok to bear in a mighty swing from over head that would split hero down the middle. Jumping backwards to avoid the massive sword it was now Odin on the offensive swinging madly keeping Hero on the retreat as he returned his blade to a longer, thicker one capable of blocking Ragnarok.

Hero was a big man standing over six feet and weighing close to three hundred pounds. Yet Odin was a mountain of a man pushing close to seven feet tall. Hero slid several inches across the floor after blocking one attack while using Thor's hammer to anchor the tip of his own blade. Electricity arched between the weapons from the charge Hero was building in the hammer. As flames erupted from the heat built up in Ragnarok. Odin pressed on driving his feet pushing Hero backwards towards a wall. Hero planted a foot against the wall bracing himself, stopping Odin's momentum.

Odin shifted his weight, slipping an elbow through Hero's defense, hitting him hard on the chin. Retreating a step, Odin came back forward with a mighty thrust thinking his opponent dazed. Odin hit hard but Hero had a hard chin. Diving away pushing off the wall with his leg he dodged the deadly thrust and hurried back to his feet, throwing Mjolnir. Odin's head from five or six feet away was an easy target while the tip of his sword was stuck in the wall. Thors hammer connected home, exploding Odin's head from the sudden release of electricity that Hero had been building in the hammer the entire time.

Frantically he began to look for the stairs running down them he came to a door with a handle made from the familiar black metal. Opening the door he casually walked in with a smile starting to grow on his face. And then he saw what odin meant they were close by.

In the corner huddled together were two people. One Heros goddess, the woman he had spoken of reuniting with for thousands of years being held protectively by a man Hero thought dead. One of her high priests from the time of the first pantheon. He was a high priest of vitality. The goddess of vitality hands to the people. The night Kazamy gave Hero the comm sphere and returned to the stars her pantheon's mission complete she stood in front of him alone on the deck of a ship. She never once spoke of intimate love for the man, never told Hero about him at all. Had she taken him with her, had they been together this entire time.

“Can you walk?” Hero asked.

“Yes” they both replied at the same time.

“Then let's go” Hero said as he prompted them to move with a wave of his hand towards the door. Seeing them get to their feet and moving without too much pain, Hero ran up the stairs. Where he saw Drew standing next to a pile of items. Wearing black god robes without his gloves on. A sign of peace from earth's first god of death.

“What are you doing in South America, Hero?” Drew asked casually in spanish. That was his way, always casual. Always calm and relaxed.

Stopping at the top of the stairs so Kazamy could see him hoping they would stay at the bottom. Drew was unpredictable at best.

“You know why I'm here.” Anger was obvious in Hero's voice. The only weapon Hero held was his sword. In his rush to have Kazamy safe in his arms he foolishly left everything laying for Drew to collect all too easily.

“Oh I know why you're here but do you?” Drew said with a snicker continuing to speak in Spanish knowing Hero understood him.

“I'm here to save the women you kidnapped and set Odin to guard.”

“But that's not the entire truth is it.” Drew squatted down taking a closer look at his newly acquired items.

“Then how about you tell me the entire truth?” Hero said flatly.

“You're here because I made it so. Just like I'm going to make you destroy the council.”

“What are you talking about? I'm not going to destroy the council for you.” Hero spat back.

“Oh I know you and when you do it you're going to want to do it. I'm sure you meet more than just a god of the first pantheon down stairs. Tell me do you recognize him?”

Hero remained silent, clenching his jaw and looking away. An obvious answer for the perceptive man in black.

“Did you even know he was alive or that she took him with her.” Drew pressed.

Hero remained silent. His thoughts were a swirl of chaos, his jaw taut and his knuckles were white but he remained silent.

“Did you know they were in a pantheon together in another solar system..” He said, tearing at the obvious emotional wound. Hero hated his old friend for the things he was saying but had no ground to stand on to deny them.

“I'm going to let you keep what you came here with, the rest are mine now.”

“Good will and good health old friend.” Eddie said in a long forgotten language. A common greeting among the people of the first pantheon. He grabbed gungnir and ragnarok vanishing from sight.

Looking over his shoulder and making eye contact with Kazamy who was still in the arms of her high priest he just walked away unable to think. They rushed up the stairs and followed Hero outside.

“Eddie is waiting in a helicopter a few miles this way.” Hero knew the two where behind him he could hear them walking. Unable to stand the thought of seeing her in his arms again he headed off into the jungle without looking over his shoulder. He ached and longed to look at her and hoped neither of them asked him anything for fear he would be unable to hide the tears in his voice. He just kept his head down and trudged on as he always did. One foot in front of the other. Occasional looking back to make sure they were keeping up. He was unsure of how badly they were hurt while being held. It was obvious there was nothing gentle about it but nothing too severe as neither really moved unhindered.

After a good way into the jungle the trio could hear a helicopter running. Following the sounds of the blades it wasn't hard to find. Breaking through the tree line into the clearing they saw Eddie waiting. Breaking into a run the three rushed to board the black hawk. Hero Climbing into his place in the co-pilot seat. Refusing to put on his head gear and refusing to look over his shoulder he closed his eyes and focused on the throb in his jaw from Odin's elbow. Not wanting to look at Kazamy or hear the conversation that was about to happen between siblings.

He sat there focused on the pain and drifted off to sleep. It was many hours later before Hero woke up in his bed in Eddie's house. Laughing knowing Eddie must have drugged him when he fell asleep. “What a dick!”

Wearing only the cargo pants he had on the previous day he went in search of eddie. And a bathroom. “I'm down stairs,” Eddie's voice said over the intercom. Hero could never find his way around Eddie's house, taking several minutes to locate the stairs. In a large open basement filled with gaming devices Eddie stood next to two doors. “I'm really not in the mood for a handball man,” Hero said sluggishly.

“It'll be good for you. Come on.” Opening the door he let Hero shuffle onto the handball court. And then locked the door behind him. The sound of lights kicking on made him look to the other court separated by a thick sheet of plexiglass. In the middle of the handball court stood Kazamy. No bruises from her recent orbeal apparent. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt her hair in a ponytail and pulled out the back of her hat.

His heart pounded in his chest. Tears filled his eyes he screamed slamming his fist against the glass hoping for it to shatter so he could touch her and hold her. She let his rage play out as tears welled inside of her as she whimpered “I’m sorry” at the sight of pain in his eyes. She wanted to tear down the barrier just as badly as he did. She pressed her hand over his on the glass. Looking at each other through tears. “You wasn't supposed to found out like this”

“No Shit!” Hero said angrily, dropping his head.

“I can't trust myself alone around you but I had to see you. Please know all we talked about one day being together is all i think about. I want to be in your arms more than anything but I know once I'm in them I'll never leave. Please look at me.”

Hero raised his head. Tears streaming both faces, words caught in her throat she kissed the Plexiglas window separating the two handball courts. Doing the same Hero stood there a long while lips pressed to the glass. Knowing when he opened his eyes she would be gone. With a loud cry of rage from the very bottom of his soul he screamed.

He had no idea how long he was sitting there when the locks clicked and Eddie walked inside and sat next to him.

“I remember a few thousand years ago she told you about trying to join a pantheon bound for earth and when she told you she wasn't coming you willingly became a roman gladiator hoping to end your life in a manner befitting the god of violence and ended up aiding Spartacus lead a rebellion against Rome. Why do I feel like you're about to do something even stupid?”

Hero could only smile back in response.