Valkyrie Smash

Rollo was frozen still, his eyes widening as the scenery in front of him changed like a slideshow. He only realized what was happening when it all stopped. In less than a minute, they had teleported several times.

The area around them seemed more random than he expected. There was a barricade in front of them and nothing else. Not even one or two guards to keep watch.

"We're here."

Ingrid's voice snapped him out of his daze, but that led to blood draining from his face making him extremely pale. He had already known that she was a Nephilim, but hearing her say it out loud was quite the shock.

"What's wrong?" The dark-haired girl approached him with a look of concern, bringing her face close to his. "Did you get teleportation sickness?"

"I-I-I-" Rollo took a step back, feeling that his heart was about to stop, but the alien girl didn't seem to care, closing the distance between them once more with a smirk on her face.

"Oh, right, there is no such thing as teleportation sickness." She said. "You're just scared."

Rollo wanted to retort. He wanted to say he had every reason to be scared. After all, he was brought to a random place in the middle of nowhere, and by a Nephilim nonetheless. How could he not be frightened?

"I won't eat you, you know." Pausing for a moment, she looked him up and down. "Or maybe…"

Seeing the Nephilim lick her lips, danger bells began ringing in Rollo's head. He wasn't so innocent that the real meaning would go over his head, and like every healthy teenager he had at least fantasized about doing it with a Valkyrie once. But not like this. He never expected it to happen outside his hormone-powered imagination, let alone that a Nephilim would show any interest in him.

"Seriously, Ingrid," A voice came to save him at the right moment. "Stop joking like that. He might think you'll actually eat him."

It was Juni who had just teleported a few meters ago. Despite planning to depart together, she seemed to arrive a few seconds after the other two.

"Who said I'm joking." Sliding to his side, the Nephilim wrapped her arms around his right.

There was a moment of silence, then the Valkyrie's face turned red.

"O-oh, y-you meant it that way…"

Rollo was a hair's breadth from passing out. He didn't know what to expect from an alien from another dimension, but the delicate softness pressed against him far exceeded that of any girl he knew, and that threw his thoughts into chaos.

"How about it, darling?" Said Ingrid. "I can convince them to let me have you for the night. Don't you want to have some fun before you're locked in a cell?"

[Ingrid, Mr. Romanoff is a minor. Do you want to get convicted of sexual assault?]

At some point, a holographic screen appeared near the barricades. On it, a green-haired girl was looking in their direction with complete indifference. Despite the glasses she wore, her beauty couldn't be understated. That alone was proof of her being a Valkyrie, or maybe a Nephilim. It was impossible to tell considering they are technically one and the same.

"I was just messing around," With an annoyed grumble, Ingrid finally let go of the boy's arm. "No need to get so worked up."

[I see. If that's the case, I'm sure Tove will understand.]

The simple mention of the name caused Ingrid to twitch. Noticing that, Rollo turned around to check only to see that she was as pale as a ghost.

[She should be there to pick you pick you up any moment now. Please wait patiently.]

"Wait! Just lift the barrier and let us in! No need to send a-"

[Ingrid, just to be clear, Her Highness will decide your punishment later on. Don't think your transgression will be overlooked.]

"Wha- hold on, Mimir!!! I-"

Not giving her the chance to plead her case, the transmission was cut. The silence of the night enveloped the road for a while. Rollo didn't dare say anything and pretended not to exist, but fortunately, there was someone else there to offer a comment.

"Ms. Tove is going to be really angry."

Juni gave her friend a look of pity, but Ingrid was too far gone to even react.

~[ ]~

Freezing cold water brought Ryan back from the depth of unconsciousness. His body jerked once and his head moved frantically as he tried to get a grasp on his surroundings, and once the blurriness faded, what he saw sent his blood boiling.

His surroundings made it clear he was in the kitchen, and sitting across from him was Natasha, his wife. She was tied to one of their wooden chairs, a thick rope wrapped around her arms and legs. Instinctively, Ryan tried to rush to his wife's side.

It was a futile attempt as one look at himself was enough to make him realize he was in the same state, then there was the sharp pain on the back of his head.

"Na-"

[■■■■■■■■■■■■-]

"Huh?"

A strange, incomprehensible voice halted his thoughts. Ryan looked around trying to locate its source, and in the process of doing so he noticed several cloaked figures standing in the corners of the room.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■-]

The voice spoke again, its words still mingled gibberish. Despite being on high alert, Ryan was still unable to deduce its source.

"Oh, I see you're awake."

Another voice drew his attention to the entrance. It was rough and sounded a bit broken, the product of a voice changer much like the ones used in movies and TV shows. The mask worn by the speaker, which was white compared to the black ones worn by the others, was responsible for the distortion, there was no doubt about that.

"You!!? What did you do to-" Sharp pain halted Ryan's outburst before it could take off. "What did you… what did you do to her!!?"

"Just a bit of sedative. She wouldn't stop crying, you see." The masked man, as indicated by his tall stature and wide shoulders, walked toward him with unhurried steps. "This is a rather peaceful neighborhood. It would be troublesome if anyone outside heard her."

For a moment Ryan considered yelling with everything he got, but then he realized it would only lead to him getting knocked out again.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■-]

The strange voice whispered to him again, but he still couldn't locate its source. He was starting to believe he was hallucinating. Everything from Natasha's dull expression to the strangers in masks and cloaks to the strange voices in his head; all of it sounded like a particularly nasty nightmare. Nevertheless, the pain he felt took away the hope of it all ending with him waking up in bed.

He was left with no choice but to accept reality, and by doing so he took the first step in trying to free himself and saving his wife.

"What… what do you want?" He asked. "You can take anything, just don't touch my wife and child…"

"Great response." The white mask said. "I see that you care quite a bit about your family."

The robotic voice was calm and easygoing, showing a lack of care for what was happening. Ryan got a bad feeling about it, and that led to panic returning as he failed to find any opening to free himself.

"Family is a great thing, Ryan." The white mask spoke again. "Blood connections are the strongest bond a human has, and the support they bring is what helps many of us go through life."

Grabbing a chair, he dragged it to the center of the room and sat down facing Ryan. He remained silent for a few seconds, and the next time he spoke the broken voice sounded a lot more serious.

"I had a family as well. A wife and two sons. You could say Randy was family as well. We got along even though I was more of a cat person." The man let his head hand down and heaved a sigh. "My brothers… we didn't talk for years at a time. Everyone was busy with their lives.

They also had families of their own to take care of. The last time I saw them was at our dad's funeral." He raised his head and seemed to look Ryan in the eyes, though it was difficult to tell with the white mask covering his face. "I'm sure you can guess what happened to them, Ryan. After all, you and I are the same."

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

Ryan understood without the man having to say it. He was a survivor of the war, and all of them had one thing in common. They all had someone dear to them taken by the Calamities, forcing them to live with a gaping hole in their hearts. Some couldn't keep going and chose to follow those who lost, others went on living, choosing to hold on to the hope that everything will be better in the future.

Then there were those who persevered with nothing but the desire for vengeance, choosing to fill the hole with unfathomable hate for those who took away what they cherished.

"Ryan, you lost people too." The white mask held his hands and stared at his palms. "You lost more than anyone. Everyone you ever knew from the old world was killed. Your parents, your brother and sisters, your friends, your girlfriend. All of them were killed by those aliens, yet…" Pausing for a moment, the man sighed.

"Yet here you are, acting all friendly with one of them, even going as far as to name your child after her."

Ryan's eyes slowly widened. Many things went through his head, but even through the chaos he was able to understand a few things. Those people know a lot about him, whether it's his life before the Calamities or ever since. They know about his job, and they know about his relationship with Eleven, and about the meeting they had that day.

They knew about him asking permission to name his daughter after her. Ryan didn't know how they obtained that information, but the fact that they had it showed their visit had been planned long ago.

"Tell me, Ryan." The white mask spoke again, his voice trembling with restrained rage. "Where is your anger?"

Ryan only stared at the man, eyes still wide open. After a few seconds, he replied in a hoarse voice.

"You… you're one of them. The anti-Valkyrie terrorists."

"That's what they always called everyone who resist the world's dominant power, even in the old world." Standing up, he pierced the Producer with a sharp glare. "We refuse to accept those alien scum, and we will never accept them living among us. Even if we are mere humans, we will continue to fight them until the very end." Turning his back to him, he held up a hand as if to give a signal.

"We are Jotunn, the true Resistance. Traitors like you have no place in our world, and the time for forgiveness had long since passed."

With unhurried steps, he walked toward the entrance. At the same time, one of the black masks came forward. He made his way to the unconscious Natasha, and from under his arm he pulled a most vicious object.

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Ryan could only watch as the masked intruder pressed the barrel against his wife's dark brown hair. The world around him lost color, and everything seemed to distort into much simpler frames. The sound was gone so he couldn't even hear his own screams. He might've tried to free himself, but no amount of force freed him from his restraints.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

Everything turned into chaotic lines and scribbles. For a moment he believed his wife was looking at him, her sweet smile bringing relief to his heat. The next moment light shot out of the black object the masked intruder was holding.

It entered her head from the left and exited from the right, and following it were flowers of crimson, each one blooming brilliantly, their color contrasting the monochrome of the canvas.

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The crimson color continued to spread, seeping from the flowers and painting everything red. Before he knew it, that was all there is in Ryan's head. His wife was gone, and so was his daughter. They were both dead, just like his mother and father.

Once again he could only watch as his loved ones were killed mercilessly. The pain he buried came back all at once, and what the man with the white mask said helped ignite his darkest desires.

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As Ryan silently gazed upon the lifeless corpse of his beloved wife, her killer walked toward him with unhurried steps. Standing to his right, he pressed the gun barrel against his head. He was about to press the trigger, but something odd distracted him from doing so. At first, he believed it to be his imagination, but then it appeared once more, then again and again.

Specs of light, red like the fireworks scattering throughout the darkness of a clear summer night. At first, there was only one or two, then more and more started showing, and before long they simply stopped disappearing, each one merging with the others to create complex crooked symbols as they lined up to create a full circle.

Recognizing the shapes, the masked intruder panicked and tried to finish the job. Before he could, however, a strong pressure came down and pressed against him, and the next instant his entire body exploded.

The same happened with the other masked intruders. One by one, they all exploded, their blood and guts splattering all over the furniture and walls. Hearing the commotion, their leader came back.

He watched in horror as the last of his subordinates disappeared into a cloud of red mist, and by the time he identified the perpetrator, a pair of eyes turned to stare in his direction, the untamed madness contained within them screaming that his turn was next.