Chương 886: Day Eight Hundred And Eighty-Four

Dear Diary, Part of me thinks that I let Poseidon off easy. Okay, more than part of me. Most of me wanted to inflict every bit of hurt on him that he'd ever inflicted on anyone else. Wanted Vengeance. Craved it. Still craved it, even after listening to what remained of him scream in the merciless embrace of Conrad's Machine for a day and a half. But that thing that lay there screaming wasn't Poseidon. Nothing was. Not any more.

I'd erased his identity, leaving nothing but a humanoid mass of Soul stuff with no more sense of self than a mannequin. Shit, probably less than any mannequin Conrad made. This wasn't Vengeance. If this was anything, it was torture. Torture of what might have been an innocent Soul, for all I knew, but also torture of me, because without an identity, without a sense of self, that Soul stuff just screamed incoherently. It felt pain, yeah. But it felt no guilt, or apprehension, or sense of past or future.

It just existed in a constant state of now; when the knives paused to reposition the screaming stopped, only to begin once again when they returned to their grisly work. I watched through tear filled eyes, unable to really focus on details of what was happening. Eventually, some time after the knives went away and the suturing needles came out, I asked, "do you think I... Do you think this was too merciful for him?" The needles paused, and Conrad turned to me.

The Weyland Smith in his element, yet still clearly my son. Evil sociopathic serial killer, mutilator of Gods, Mor Primordial just like his sister and I.

"Do you mean Thor, or Poseidon?" I frowned.

"How do you remember that name?" He smirked.

"Please, Mother. You bequeathed him, name and all, to me. How could I not?" It took a moment, and he winced slightly as I remembered his Domain, but then I nodded.

"Okay. Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to doubt you. Poseidon. Was I too soft on him?" He thought a moment.

"Perhaps, but..." He paused again, then as softly as he'd ever said anything, whispered, "you were merciful to yourself, and I find myself surprised to be pleased by that." I snorted.

"I could have just handed him over to you. Let you replace Franklin as your Hole Spawn enclosure filter." He frowned.

"I would... Well, perhaps that might be surprisingly appropriate, but nonetheless, I think this is far more effective. Elegant, in a way." His lips curved into that too wide grin.

"I would be remiss if I did not add that the positive avalanche of Worship from those staring at his defunct Temples, wondering to whom they belonged, definitely adds to my positive opinion of your plan." I thought about that for a second, and if that brought another brief wince, he didn't resist when I wrapped my arms around him for a quick hug.

"Thanks, son. I'm glad you're enjoying this, at least." He nodded.

"It's truly regrettable that you cannot tell Mom about this."

"Why?" As he went back to work, he mused, "oh, I think she would find the elegance of your plan beautiful. Striking down not one, not two, but an endless parade of targets with a single blow."

"Huh?" He chuckled.

"You cannot fool me, mother. You are well aware that in doing this, not only do you retrieve one who might have otherwise languished in my indirect captivity until the end of time, you also place him and his father in your debt. With my uncle's participation, you've even subverted that part of the prophecy which would bring Thor into conflict with our extended family."

"Well, I mean..." He shook his head, a single jerk that kept his eyes on his work. The Soul's screams had long since devolved into a kind of breathy whimper, not enough to make Conrad raise his voice to be heard.

"Beyond those clear debts you've placed on others, you've handed me not only possession of the Lord of the Seas' identity, but also that windfall of Worship. Finally, while none are likely to remember the identity of the Deity you destroyed, there is a clear gap. A missing piece, the edges blurred to the point that none might reconstruct its shape by the gap remaining, but still a gap. Any who go looking?" He paused and smiled at me.

"Will only know that you and I, by your power and my artifice, are responsible." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I took a deep breath.

"How is that a good thing?" He turned back to his work.

"It is a rare Deity indeed who holds anything in higher esteem than their own legacy. The thought that you could kill them is terrifying, but there are many with the courage to defy you nonetheless. But the thought that you could erase them utterly, leaving nothing? No name, no following, no mark on history, just a smudge where all those things might have been? Few are stupid enough to risk that." I snorted.

"Few?" He chuckled before murmuring, "a few are too arrogant for their own good." Before I could reply, he said, "this next bit is both delicate and, not to put too fine a point on it, deliciously excruciating for the subject. Silence, please?" I nodded, then watched. Listened. Loathed myself just a little as some dark part of me grooved to the shrieks of the poor Soul strapped to The Smith's Machine.

Some time after noon, as the knives and sutures slipped back into their cabinets, he slipped the various bits off of the body on the table. The body I recognized from that day two years ago now when Loki and I crashed Heracles party.

'Viking surfer dude', only without his Viking outfit. Just a naked shaggy blond dude, near invisible sutures bruising his whole body, lying on a table.

"Shall I return these to their owners?" He held up the tiara, the cummerbund, and the boots with their stockings. I nodded, then nodded again to the figure on the table.

"He should awaken soon," Conrad confirmed.

"Please keep him from damaging anything?"

"Sure." The moment I responded, Conrad disappeared, and I removed the shackles holding Thor to the table. As I released the last one, his eyes snapped open. He tensed, then winced, groaning.

"Dude, hold still. You're safe, but you've been through a lot."

"Wrr..." He smacked his lips a little.

"Where am I?" I took his hand in mine, and when he took hold, lifted him off the table, his arm around my shoulder. I kinda suspected he'd balk at a princess carry. Then again, dude's worn a wedding dress, so maybe he'd just expect me to top. I dunno. At any rate, once I had him up like that, as he groggily looked around, I said, "not really the important part.

The surgeon said you're gonna feel kinda shitty for a bit, what with him having to literally put you back together from pieces, but if you take it easy for a bit, rest up, get some food and sleep, you should be okay."

"I... I remember... Tyr?" I shook my head.

"Yeah, he fucked around and found out, and pulled you in behind for fuck around two, find out harder. But I told your dad I'd look for you, get you home if I could." At the mention of home, something of the pain in his face cleared.

"You ready to go home?"

"Please."

"Hold on tight, but try not to tense up." I stepped us both to the Valhal, right in front of the littler door through those big assed doors. The two big dudes tensed like they were gonna deny me entry, and I growled out, "don't. Just fuckin' don't." They glanced at one another, thumped the butts of their pole arms on the ground, and one of them leaned over to push the door open.

"My thanks," grunted Thor. The moment we were inside, before I could stop him, the big idiot stood up to his full height and called out, "father! I return!"

"Son?" So help me, I actually felt a little warm and fuzzy at how desperate Odin sounded. Like he thought we were a hallucination, or illusion. I stepped the two of us right in front of Odin's throne, and before either of them could say anything, announced, "here you go. One son, returned from captivity."

"What have you done to him?" Odin managed to wheeze out.

"Me? I brought him home, One-eye." I paused, then shrugged.

"Okay, I also made sure he was in one piece. Because for the past while he hasn't been." Before he could follow up on that, I steamrolled him with, "look, if you want to throw down right now, an elderly stroke victim and a recent everything reattachment survivor against the crazy bitch who soloed four Titans a couple days ago, I'll try not to hurt you too much, but lemme be clear, I've just brought you your boy back. Brought him back like I said I would when we made our deal." He frowned, opened his mouth.

I cut him off.

"Look, Bileygr, you and I both know that your go to for getting out of deals is my dad, and he's not gonna help you get out of this one. Also, just so your son understands, your part in this is peace, justice, and health." I turned to Thor, who still leaned on me with one arm across my shoulders.

"You got a problem with me demanding you and your dad spend some quality time recovering, getting healthy, and maybe granting some people justice?" He looked up at Odin.

"Father?" Yeah, even I heard the longing in that voice. Reminded me a little of Lenny Lancaster's sons, wanting their dad to just, y'know, be proud of them. Acknowledge them as men worthy of respect, maybe even love. I'm not sure if One-eye saw something of that in my face, or he knew that he needed a strong arm with his own kinda non-functional, or maybe he was just a better fuckin' human-adjacent being than his High Priest to Phileo, but he held up one shaking hand.

"Son." Yeah, I made sure he didn't rupture himself getting his arms around his dad, and I maybe upset some folks by grabbing the nearest bench and setting it next to Odin's throne, but in a few moments Thor sat by his dad's side, and if they weren't holding each other the way I would with Isnomi or even Maze, they clearly supported one another in what was almost not a toxic kind of way.

"I'll be in touch?" Odin turned from his son to look at me.

"Thank you, Tabitha Diaz." He sighed, then straightened.

"You will have your peace, you will have your justice." I tilted my head.

"And you two will have your therapy?" When Thor looked confused and Odin got a mulish look that reminded me of Isnomi at her worst, I looked at Thor and said, "yeah, part of my price for bringing you home was for both of you to get some help to be healthier." Beautiful scarred himbo that he was, he looked at his father and said, "that is a Boon we ought not pass up, to be obligated to do good for ourselves, is it not?" I just smiled, said, "listen to your son," and stepped back home.