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COMPONENT 40: FORGED
Gonzeelda was sitting up when she saw a sight that terrified her. With the glory of a demi-god, the forge stood shining brilliantly, with flames of wrath surrounding him. The orcess’ mouth hung open upon recognizing the mighty hammer held in his strong hands. Soul Rupture, the scythe she had once called her ‘Beauty’ had been reforged and combined with the forge’s weapon. Now she knew, she wouldn’t stand a chance against him, and she even wondered if Torchwood did. He wasn’t summoned using the complete Soul Rupture after all. Glancing across the cavern she saw Tricia sitting up and viewing the scene as well. She would have to make it to her, and flee as soon as possible.
Torchwood had covered his eyes to guard against the light of the intense explosion. As he lowered his arm, the great orc furrowed his brow in confusion. The creature before him had not only changed, but had restored itself from its wrecked state. And then there was the aura, the incredibly strong power emanating from the very being of his opponent. The god shook his head. It was all a trick, he believed. There was no way a mortal creature could hold the power of a god.
“You still can’t defeat me.” Torchwood said.
Angon however, said nothing. Instead, he took a step towards the orc, holding his hammer in both hands.
Torchwood narrowed his eyes and marched across the cavern towards the steel man. Angon slammed the hammer sidelong right into the orc’s side. The blow was as if an avalanche had struck. Torchwood roared in pain, and staggered to the side. The mighty orc held the site of impact which had sent cracks spidering through his flesh.
The god knew now, from that single blow, that this was no trick. The creature before him wielded a strength only a god could.
Torchwood opened his mouth wide, roaring at Angon. But the forge did not even wince. Blazing fire burst from his mouth, sending fireball after fireball at the forge. Each struck home, and several explosions rang out. The shockwave of the blast nearly sent Gavin and the others flying over the side of the mountain, but they all managed to hold on.
The orc god smiled, only until the intense winds blew the smoke clear. For Angon stood there looking exactly the same, not a single scratch had befallen his new armor.
Torchwood growled and charged Angon, fists swinging. The first blow came in at the forge’s face, and the orc god grinned, thinking he had struck the enemy. But his eyes widened when he realized Angon was holding his first in one hand.
“I said, you can not win.” Angon repeated.
The forge squeezed his hand, causing Torchwood’s knuckles to pop, and then crack. The orc screeched and swung his other fist. The forge would not be able to block with a hammer in his hand. And it was true. The attack struck Angon’s jaw, and his head turned to the side.
“You can not win.” Angon said through gritted teeth, pushing back the orc’s fist with his face.
Torchwood gave forth another roar and ripped his hand free from Angon’s grasp. He brought both hands over his head.
“Die, mortal!” Torchwood started to scream, but Angon had already thrust the head of his godly weapon into the orc’s gut. The orc slid back all the way to the edge of the mountainside.
Torchwood teetered on the lip, his arms waving about madly. Angon charged forward and grabbed the god by his throat, flipping him back, and tossing him into the Anvil of Creation. He hit with a loud grunt, and carack. The god looked up, trying to move, but he couldn’t feel anything below his neck.
“You haven’t won!” Torchwood shouted. “This is merely an avatar! My true form resides in the heavens, and I will come back for. I promise you, I will kill you!”
Angon leaped into the air, bringing his mighty greathammer over his head. Then with the force of an asteroid, chopped down. Torchwood’s eyes flew wide and Angon’s hammer crashed down into his skull, shattering it, and sending godly brains splattering.
The forge stared down at the lifeless form of the orc god.
“You need not come here.” Angon said. “I will come find you.”
As the intense fiery aura of the forge wore down, he placed his hammer on his back where it stuck by a magical force. He fell to one knee, feeling suddenly weaker.
“Angon!” Gavin and Hero both cried, rushing to his side.
Dizziness swept through the forge and his lolled about. He barely held onto consciousness, but fought to keep his grasp.
“You won!” Hero yipped, bouncing around, and wagging his tail.
Gavin placed his hand on Angon’s shoulder and nodded his approval. “I didn’t think it could be done, gargo—I mean, forge—I mean… my friend.”
That last part of Gavin’s statement had Angon looking up with a grin.
“I didn’t think it could be done either.” He admitted, forcing his way to his feet.
“Whoa.” Hero barked. “Don’t overdo it.”
“I’ll be fine.” Angon said, but fell back to his knee immediately. “Or maybe give me a few moments.”
“The moments are yours.” Gavin said. “You’ve earned them.”
When the sol elf stood straight and looked around, he noticed something missing; rather two somethings. Both Gonzeelda, and Tricia were no longer atop the mountain.
“She escaped.” Gavin said, seeing that Hero too, was looking around.
“I know.” Hero lowered his head. “I saw them making their escape, but I did nothing.”