The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Six: Eddelin City]

It was nearly over.

The Amalgam would soon control the Place, one of the last bastions of resistance in the multiverse. After the final round, there would be no serious opposition.

There was just one problem. Their champion was not at full strength. In Cedric's current state, Kracht might win, and that indignity was unacceptable. Only a human, no, only the champion of humanity could win the battle to end all battles.

And so the final round had to wait until Cedric was restored. A minor delay.

It would be taken care of even before the Place fell.

---

what do I do now

what can I do now

she's dead, he's gone, everything is over

It was hardly the first time one of Xadrez' plans had failed, though it might technically have been depending on how you handled the chronology. But before, there had always been some possibility of a backup plan.

What was there now? Even ignoring the issue of the memories, there was no Kracht to send back. He was in the grip of the Amalgam, and no doubt it was already sending him off to his doom.

Silver soldiers burst into the room. Xadrez hardly even cared. It was all a foregone conclusion now. He could stand and fight, or he could let them finish him off and have the worthless gem burning a hole in his chest. What did it even matter now?

One of the soldiers drew near, and Xadrez made no move.

Until, that is, the thing was close enough that a well-timed swing of his disc sent it flying against the wall, where it shattered into pieces.

It was the Amalgam's fault Kracht had been here in the first place. The Amalgam was the whole problem Kracht had been sent back to fix. If not for the Amalgam, Xadrez never would have had to deal with the damned rock's tricks in the first place.

He floated out of the room, swatting away soldiers as they came. If he could accomplish nothing else, he would at least make the Amalgam's existence miserable.

---

Jen was getting tired. The workship was churning out soldiers at a rate slightly slower than she could kill them; the difference was barely enough to let her catch her breath.

"How's it coming along, Arkal?" she asked, swinging the Omnisword again.

"Moonlight's tough to work with," the smith sighed. He glanced at the poor chunk of moonrock on his anvil, trying to hold up a long chain of light on its own. "I can do it, but it's slow, even with this doohickey (tick!) helping out. My hammer's not up to it."

"So make a better hammer," Jen said, gasping as she stabbed another three soldiers. "Here, use this."

She handed the Omnisword back to him. He glanced up at her.

"You sure?"

"I can hold out for a bit with the other sword," she said. "Just work fast." (tock!)

With the Clockwerk's aid, it was the work of a moment to turn the sword of all swords into the hammer of all hammers. Every hammer wielded by every smith was now at Arkal's command, ready to craft the greatest weapon of all time.

He was ready.

As they fled the workship, Kracht had told him of the silver sword. A blade forged from his own anvil, the power of creation flowed through it and it made new weapons with every blow. Cedric had wielded it as the Amalgam's champion, leaving much destruction in his wake. It was a mockery of everything Arkal stood for.

And now he was going to recreate it.

Arkal donned his Stuff-gauntlet, and reached into the depths of his forge. Residual heat wouldn't do for this task, he knew - he needed the stone itself.

Even through the Stuff, Arkal felt the intense heat against his palm. Nonetheless, he worked. He held the forgestone up to the anvil, and began reshaping anvil and moonlight with his hammer.

Under normal circumstances, the task would have taken days of effort. Even with the clockwerk alone, he would have expected an hour of work. But aided by the Omnihammer, he was done within a second. His anvil and the moon were now one within a sword.

"Got the base done," he said.

"Great. Can you give it here? I could use something a bit better."

Arkal pulled the silvermoon sword up from the floor, groaning as he did.

"It's pretty heavy," he said. "I think the moonrock's doing that."

Jen took the blade. Arkal wasn't kidding. She could barely lift it, but she could manage. With a single swing, she struck a silver soldier. He fell to pieces, and then the silver rose from the ground as a wolf. It promptly leapt at another soldier and tore its former comrade apart.

"Reinforcements," Jen said. "That's handy. Worth lugging a little extra weight around. Now let's take care of Klaus. He's somewhere in that airship, right?"

"Probably. Something's operating it, at least, and I can't see where else he'd be."

Jen stepped out of the chamber. Arkal grabbed his forge and the clockwerk before following. Jen struck the workship, and a portion tore off, taking the shape of a monkey. It didn't last, though; in a flash, the silver monkey was torn apart and the hole was fixed up.

"That'll be Klaus at work," Arkal said. "I think we're going to need a little more help to stop him. Guess it's time for the next step in the process."

Jen handed him the silvermoon sword, and fended off the workship's various tools with her other blade.

Arkal took the sword, and held the clockwerk against the silvermoon blade. Carefully, he built it in, without damaging the inner workings.

A small knife dropped to the floor when he was finished. Then another. Then ten more.

"Seems to be doing quantity over quality," he grumbled. "Might be good enough to outwork Klaus, though."

The sword seemed to have grown even heavier. Arkal was worried; it wasn't quite done yet, he could tell, and the new additions would make it heavier still. Nonetheless, it would probably work for the moment. He swung it at the workship...

And the weapon slipped out of his hands. The workship started crumbling, all its pieces adding themselves to the blade.

"Dammit!" Arkal howled. "The moon's not enough. That thing's got too much human-influence, and if it absorbs the whole ship that'll throw the balance off even more."

"I could try to get you more moon," Jen said. "I don't know how long it's going to take..."

"That's not quite it. It needs something more... lively."

Arkal suddenly looked at the walls around him, and realized what he needed to do.

"Get everyone out of here!" he shouted. "I've got work to do, and I'm going to need the whole whale to do it!"

---

Hector wasn't doing too well. He was barely holding off the soldiers with the creatures he summoned, and the workship wasn't likely to tire out before he did. And if the whale gave out first, that would only make it worse.

Suddenly, the flow of soldiers stopped. Hector breathed a sigh of relief as a zebra trampled the last pair. They might just survive long enough to come up with a completely futile plan before the Amalgam overran the Place.

Jen ran in a moment later.

"Arkal says we've got to get out," she said. "I'm running to the tail to warn Xadrez, I'm pretty sure he's got the others with him."

Hector groaned.

"The whale won't last long if I'm gone," he said. "Not that it has that much time to begin with."

"Just give yourself a pegasus or something in... two minutes or so, then? Look, Arkal's the expert on this stuff. I don't know exactly what he's planning, but I'm willing to leave it up to him."

"Fine," Hector sighed. He was too tired for a full pegasus, but he was able to grow some wings on the zebra. "I hope he knows what he's doing."

---

Though still convinced that nothing he did could be at all useful at this point, Xadrez nonetheless found meaningless violence quite therapeutic.

He'd fought his way down a few corridors when he noticed an open door saying "MEMORIAL HALL". He probably wouldn't have given it a second thought if he weren't looking for cover from the next wave.

He floated into the door, and the first thing that caught his eye was a familiar knife on a stand. A plaque under it read

IN MEMORY OF GENERAL XADREZ

Good Riddance, You Bastard

A moment later, the knife was taken from the stand, and the plaque sliced into pieces.

it still works

how fortunate

Xadrez turned towards the silver soldiers pouring in through the door. The knife sliced through them effortlessly.

As futile gestures went, it was remarkably satisfying. Xadrez floated out, only to find - to his disappointment, surprisingly - that there was no next wave.

There was only Jen.

"Xadrez! Where are Kracht and Emma? We have to get off this whale!"

Emma is dead, Kracht is gone

not in the way I intended

the round has moved on and Kracht is still in this timeline

we failed Jen

I failed

Jen wasn't sure how she felt. On the one hand, she wanted to tell Xadrez he deserved it for being such a smug, self-satisfied asshole; on the other hand, Kracht was in trouble, Emma was dead (Jen hadn't liked her but still), the Place was screwed, and their original timeline was even more screwed.

She settled on a reply of "Well, shit."

---

As it turned out, Arkal's plan was working, though you wouldn't know it to look at him.

He was wrestling with the silvermoonclock sword, which was still grabbing pieces from the workship. He had it pinned to the floor and was having trouble keeping it down.

But he didn't need to keep it down for long. Just long enough to melt it in the right spot with the forgestone and strike it with his hammer.

The silver melted onto the spot, binding the sword to the whale. Both sword and whale shook violently, but as the whale's life force began to flow through the blade, it grew calmer.

Arkal let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't going to be easy to finish the job, but at least he'd be safe.

He stepped on a familiar insect that had leapt off from the collapsing workship, then rushed up to the throne room.

It wasn't going to be easy to surgically embed a live whale and an airship into a blade while also keeping it at a reasonable size to wield, but for the world's greatest blacksmith, it was hardly impossible.

---

Cedric's healing was nearly complete. He would easily destroy Kracht, and what little of the multiverse remained would fall before the Amalgam not long after.

There would be no further delay. In mere seconds, the transport would be resumed and the Otaku Melee Ultimate All-Stars Grand Championship Tournament would reach its conclusion.

It turned out that was a few more seconds than the world's greatest blacksmith, wielding every hammer in existence and with his every movement sped up, needed to finish his work.

---

The silvermoonclockwhale sword was the ultimate weapon. From the Silver Anvil, it had the power to work with any inorganic materials; from the whale, it had Hector's power of life. With the clockwerk incorporated, it could create both in mere seconds, and whoever wielded it could move at great speed as well. Finally, the moon countered the influence of humanity and gave it the power of transformation.

It was the greatest weapon ever created.

It was also incredibly heavy. Even as Arkal fell, he knew he couldn't lift it on his own. He started to worry about whether it would be enough.

Would he be able to stop the Amalgam? Was it useless, in the end? As he reflected on his fears, he felt a great weight in one hand. The Stuff-gauntlet was reacting.

And then he smiled. He knew how to fix it. He removed the Stuff-gauntlet, holding the forgestone in his bare hand; it burned intensely, but he was nearly done. He wouldn't need to make any more weapons after this.

He pressed the forgestone against the gauntlet, reshaping it around the silvermoonclockwhale sword's hilt. He fashioned the Stuff into a new hilt, and found the weapon was now lighter than a feather.

But something was still missing, his instincts told him. There was one crucial element needed so that this sword could do what it was created to do.

Below him, he saw Jen clinging awkwardly to Xadrez' board, which was descending as slowly as it could. With the clockwerk's help, he sped up his fall so he was right beside them.

I have no idea what you intend to do, Arkal

but I fear it will do no good

despite my best efforts, our timeline is--

Arkal ignored the thoughts Xadrez was thinking at him and simply reached into the spirit's chest.

"Going to need this," he said, grabbing the Middle-Gem. He held it against the base of the blade, and used the forgestone to seal it in.

His hand was burning. It didn't matter any more. He was done.

At that very moment, Cedric's wounds were completely healed. The Amalgam readied the two finalists for transport.

Still falling, Arkal raised the ultimate weapon over his head, and swung it at nothing.

At the same time, he swung it at everything.

With the Middle-Gem in its hilt, the weapon was the Place. As Arkal swung, all across the Place, the Amalgam fragments felt the sting of the moon, and felt something remaking them. The Silver City receded, overtaken by the new Place.

Life arose, little of it human. Civilizations formed.

The blow rung out from the pittance of fragments crawling over the Place, and struck the Amalgam itself. Life, Creation, and Transformation rang through the Amalgam-filled multiverse, and in the space of an instant, entire worlds arose where before there had been only humanity.

Now there was Everything.

There are many ways to become a god.

Some create a universe and become one by default. Some do it by surpassing all others in their field. Others kill an existing god and take its place.

Arkal of the Silver No-Longer-an-Anvil had just done all three. The multiverse took notice.

The power of the weapon he wielded, the power of the dying Amalgam, and the power of the newly-created worlds all flowed into him. He screamed as he felt far more power than he'd ever thought possible, and disappeared in midair.

Arkal was a god now. And there was a task he had to complete.

---

Kracht and Cedric were floating in limbo, their transportation incomplete with the Amalgam's death. They had nothing to do, it seemed, but stare at each others' motionless forms for eternity.

And then a voice called out.

"Don't worry, we haven't forgotten about you. There's just a little paperwork to take care of while we process the change in management."

There was a flash of light, and five figures appeared in the void.

"Greetings, contestants," said the Redeemer. "I'm here to officially declare that control of the, ahem, Otaku Melee Ultimate All-Stars Grand Championship Tournament, who came up with that ridiculous name anyways, has been transferred from the late Amalgam to the Smith, newly ascended from mortality."

The Redeemer motioned to Arkal on his right.

"The other three" - he pointed to Jen, Xadrez, and Hector - "will serve as witnesses that this transfer has been conducted in accordance with the terms of the Contract," he continued. "With the formalities dealt with, I leave this duty to you, Smith. My business here is done, at least until it's time to collect the loser."

He faded into nothingness.

Arkal wasn't too happy about the title he'd apparently just gained, but he understood what he needed to do.

"Now, I've never actually managed one of these before," Arkal began, sounding a little short of breath, "but, well, apparently there's a very unbreakable contract that says this thing has to be done. And because I just killed the entity that was supposed to do it, the job falls on my shoulders. So let's give you a final round."

Arkal raised the ultimate weapon, and in an instant, a massive empty platform unfolded below the two finalists. Stone walls slowly grew from the edges, then weapon racks lined the walls and filled the room. All the racks were full.

"Welcome to the Workshop," he said. "This place has a copy of every weapon I've ever made. Pick up a weapon, hit the other guy with it until he dies. That's pretty much all you need to know."

Three chairs appeared from nowhere. Arkal, Jen, and Hector sat down, not really having anything to do except watch. Xadrez just floated in place. A dark red barrier emerged around the seats, and Arkal tapped his hammer, unfreezing the contestants.

Cedric didn't waste any time - he lunged at the gallery, tore a hole in the barrier, and punched the Smith in the gut through it.

"I'll take this weapon," he said, grabbing the silvermoonclockwhalesword. "It's clearly the strongest weapon here."

"Nice going, Arkal," Kracht grumbled. "It was bad enough when Cedric had the Amalgam's aid, but you're going to insist on playing fair, aren't you?"

"Can't do much about it now," Arkal gasped, picking himself up. Grandmaster or not, Cedric's blow had seriously hurt him. "I can tell you there's a weapon in here that can beat him, though. It's not over yet."

"Preposterous!" Cedric declared. He kicked another hole in the barrier, just for the sake of striking the Smith in the shins the moment he got to his feet. "No weapon can defeat me! I am the greatest swordsman of all time, and I wield the greatest of weapons! I will not lose to a mere rock!"

Cedric swung the ultimate weapon, and a massive oak tree flew out of the blade and hurtled towards Kracht. In a panic, he grabbed a nearby mace and swung it at the incoming tree.

It shot out a burst of flames, and the tree burned to ash. Cedric scowled.

"Need something bigger," he said, and waved the weapon again.

This time, it sent out a bigger oak tree, which met the same fate as its predecessor. Cedric was not a very creative thinker.

"Useless thing," he said, rushing forward. "I don't need any fancy tricks. I'll just crack this rock open with one blow!"

"Really, thanks a lot, Arkal!" Kracht shouted as Cedric advanced. In desperation, he flung the mace and ran to the nearest rack, but Cedric simply swatted it aside.

It did buy Kracht time, however, and by good fortune the rack he found held a copy of the Amalgam-blade. A moment later, Cedric swung, and Kracht parried the blow instinctively, the sword of all swords guiding him.

Then it shattered into pieces. There was no question which weapon was stronger.

"Shit."

With his best hope against the assault shattered, Kracht simply ran, grabbing whatever weapons he could find and flinging them at the advancing wall of bearded swordsman. Cedric wasn't able to make much use of the creative potential of his weapon, but he could block with impossible speed. Even on the rare times when something bypassed his guard, he simply laughed off the pain.

Kracht felt alone, abandoned, and desperate. He had just picked up a sword and was about to throw it in another futile gesture when he saw there were words engraved on the surface. When he realized what they said, he nearly laughed.

"To my wonderful sons, Koule and Eselt..." he began.

Cedric paused. He felt something strange in the depths of his heart, a long-buried feeling that the words called to the surface.

His father had never called him wonderful. The bastard never would have. Not even after he became the champion of all humanity.

The silvermoonclockwhale sword felt heavier, suddenly. Cedric slowed for a moment, but still held it up with sheer strength. He would not be deterred.

But Kracht was still reading.

"I love you both, and I'm very proud of you..."

The weapon fell again. Cedric gripped it with both hands this time, to lift it again and inched closer.

Kracht was just out of his range.

Sweating profusely, he raised the ultimate weapon above his head and took another desperate step forward to prepare for the final blow.

"Your loving father, Arkal," Kracht concluded.

Cedric screamed in anguish. As he did, the Stuff grip proved too much for him. The ultimate weapon slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor of the Workshop, with Cedric standing directly beneath it.

The battle to end all battles had concluded. The final opponent had been slain by a father's love for his sons.

There was a round of applause. Even Xadrez clapped halfheartedly.

Arkal stopped clapping to wipe a tear from his eye. With a tap of his hammer, he dispelled what was left of the barrier.

"That was beautiful," he said. "Sorry things got out of control. Guess this job isn't as easy as it looks.

Kracht didn't say anything.

"Anyhow, you've won," Arkal continued. "That means you get a prize. I'm afraid it won't be worth all the trouble and heartbreak you've been through, because your prize is a lot more trouble and heartbreak. Xadrez!"

what do you want from me the spirit grumbled.

I have already been forced to watch this final mockery of a battle

is it not bad enough that we failed to set up the time loop, that our timeline may cease to exist

but that now you force me to watch these insipid battles reach their conclusion

I could at least have the consolation of the Grandmasters and their worthless battles ending forever in a failure

or perhaps distracted myself by tearing fragments apart

but now you had to take even that from me

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. You still have the memories, right?"

I do not know, or care, how you learned of them

but yes

Xadrez held up the stick.

what good will they do, Arkal

the events have already played out the wrong way--

"And we have the memories he'd have if they'd played out the other way," Arkal said. "It's an ugly solution, and it's not fair to him, but it'll get the job done and that's all we can ask for."

He grabbed the stick and slapped it on the side of Kracht's head. The green man screamed as the stick faded and the memories flowed through him.

"I'm sorry about this," Arkal said. "On the bright side, you won't remember it. I'm afraid that your prize for winning the, uh, what was it again... Otaku Melee Ultimate All-Stars Grand Championship Tournament is a bunch of memories and being sent through a time loop to relive most of them."

Arkal groaned. Cedric had hit harder than he'd realized, or maybe it was his old body not being cut out to hold this much power. Either way, he felt he didn't have much longer.

But, as he was reminded when the Redeemer reappeared, there were still things to take care of.

"You can't send him back," the Redeemer said angrily. "It was one thing when the timeline was likely to be consumed by the Amalgam, but now it's gone. There's a new multiverse forming, you set it there yourself. And I will not see you simply overwrite it. What gives your timeline precedence over ours?"

I might ask you the same question Xadrez interjected. The Redeemer pointed a finger at him and he lay silent.

"Your opinion isn't relevant here," the Redeemer said. "Our timeline is already here, and I'd prefer it stay that way. Unless the Smith would like to challenge my authority? I doubt the humans will be able to."

"I've got a name," Arkal muttered.

"Name or not, challenge me if you want your timeline to remain. You're the only one here strong enough to."

As the Redeemer spoke, Hector walked over to the ultimate weapon and looked at it.

"I thought I saw the Middle-Gem on that thing," he said.

Jen walked over beside him.

"Oh, yeah, I saw Arkal grab it," she said. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Save both timelines? Well, it may take a few trillion years for ours to get back up to snuff, but I'm game for it."

"What are you mortals babbling about?"

"It's simple. The Middle-Gem and the Place are one. And this weapon used the Middle-Gem to recreate the multiverse. So the entire new multiverse, with maybe an exception or two, is part of the Place."

He touched his hand to the gem.

"And, as King of the Place, I have the authority to store the whole of it in the Middle-Gem. All they need to do is bring it back to their own timeline, and we can stay in there until someone finds a big enough place to store a multiverse. Our timeline is preserved, theirs is preserved, everyone wins."

"Except the people in the countless timelines in between," Kracht muttered, a moment before falling comatose.

There was an awkward pause.

"They don't exist yet and won't exist by the time we do," Jen said finally. "Frankly, saving two timelines is pretty good in my book."

"This is acceptable," said the Redeemer. "I'll fetch the last few holdouts and shove them into Place territory." He snapped his fingers. "Done. Except a few beyond my reach, but if they're that powerful, they can probably handle a timeline wipe."

"Then let's store it. Place, I command you: rest within the Middle-Gem!"

There was a flash of light, as streams of universes flooded into the Workshop and flowed into the gem. When it was over, Hector stood over it, satisfied.

"Good work, Your Majesty. Now for us."

The Redeemer grabbed Hector by the shoulder, and pulled them both into the gem. The room was silent.

Xadrez waved his spectral arms frantically. Apparently he had things to say, or think at least.

"I'll take care of it in a minute," Arkal grumbled, picking up the ultimate weapon. "We've got a few things to take care of. First, Kracht."

Arkal tapped the Omnihammer against Kracht's prone form, and the green man vanished. The loop was set into motion.

"Now for us," he said, gasping for breath. "I'm afraid I only have the strength in me for one jump. And I'm going to pick where it is. No arguments."

Xadrez raised an arm in protest.

"I'll give you your voice back when I transport us. Hang on."

He tapped his hammer against the ground.

this is our chance to escape, or to strike back against the Grandmasters, and you would squander it without consultation Xadrez protested.

But his thoughts were cut off as he, Arkal, and Jen all vanished.

Moments later (to the extent 'moment' and 'later' make sense in a realm beyond time), the Workshop crumbled into nonexistence.

---

The city of Eddelin was one of the busiest in the world. There was always something going on. If you stopped someone on the street and told them that today you were planning to attend a symposium on the ancient kingdom of Sanjegoria, and then watch a performance of the renowned play The Warlock and the Mockingbird, their response would be "Is that all?"

Of course, to a pair of young men, these events were quite important. The events themselves were a point of pride to the respective men, but the fact that both were happening on the same day in the same city made the occasion all the more significant. When they realized the coincidence of scheduling, they wrote to each other and arranged to meet for lunch.

And so it was that two brothers who hadn't seen each other in more than three years, a scholar and an actor, walked into a dingy tavern for a meal.

It wasn't the nicest place in Eddelin, and they could both afford nicer. But the food was secondary. They were here to talk more than to eat.

Besides, their father loved this place.

"I can't believe I haven't even heard anything new about him in months," Koule said between bites at his sandwich. "He's always making a spectacle of himself wherever he goes. I'm actually surprised you two don't get on better."

"Perhaps he's gotten lost in his work," Eselt said, smiling. "He's been known to disappear into the smithery for days at a time. Reminds me of a certain someone and his books."

"I hope you're not making fun of me, dear brother."

"Perish the thought! I'll be watching your presentation with great interest this afternoon. Why, I've even asked the rest of the company to come along."

"And you don't expect to understand anything I say," Koule said with a smirk.

"Not a word! But damned if you won't say it with passion and feeling. That's something I can always appreciate."

They shared a hearty laugh, trying to talk about anything beyond their fears. Usually they heard some tale of their father's exploits as they journeyed, but the last few months had brought a worrying lack of news.

Their mother had died only three years ago, surrounded by her loving family. Had their father died somewhere in the wilderness, alone? Both Koule and Eselt had their share of regrets, had things they wished they'd said to him when they had the chance.

But Saera's passing hadn't been the time, and all of them lead busy lives. Even this meeting had been more by chance than by plan.

That specter hung over the entire conversation. It was a joyous day for both, and the smiles and laughs they shared were real. But so, too, was the unspoken worry.

A church bell rang, echoing through the city.

"Damn, already?" Koule said, pushing away his empty plate and standing up. "I can't stay much longer, I'm afraid. I'm going to need the better part of an hour to prepare for my talk."

"Break a leg, then!"

"Yes, you too. I'm looking forward to your performance this evening. I only wish Father could be there..."

There was a bright flash of light before them.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it to see either of you," Arkal gasped. "Not in the flesh, at least. But I'm sure you'll both do a wonderful job."

Koule and Eselt stared in awe at their father. He was kneeling, and clearly in pain, but there was a smile on his face. They were so focused on him they barely paid any notice to the young girl in unusual clothing, or the spectral figure on a floating chessboard, or even the enormous and bizarre weapon their father held in his grip.

Eselt recovered his composure first, mostly due to his training.

"Well, I must say, you've got a wonderful sense of timing," he said. He walked calmly over to his father's side, and was greeted with a powerful hug.

"Father, where have you - how - why..." Koule's questions trailed off as he saw Eselt's response. The answers didn't matter. He simply walked over and received another hug.

"I'm proud of you both," Arkal said, reaching into a scabbard at his side. "I'm afraid there's no time to say all the things we want to say, boys, but I thought ahead. These are my last words to you."

They protested. He'd be fine. There was so much to talk about.

He smiled, even as he felt his body growing heavier.

"I love you," he said to both, before he fell to the ground.

He would never get up again.

---

The Observer tossed one last piece of rubble aside, groaning. How long had he been out of commission? What had happened in the multiverse? What was going on with his other battle?

He turned to face the massive void the remnants of the Speakeasy floated in. He looked into it, and saw everything.

The Ovoid was dead. The Charlatan had stolen his battle... the entire timeline was nearly erased? The hell? And one of his contestants had ascended? Just how bad had things gotten?

He stared a few seconds more. The Smith was dead. Well, that was one less problem, at least. The battle was still out of control, and he was going to have some harsh words with the Charlatan. But dammit, he was taking his battle back.

Fortunately, it seemed he didn't have to bother coming up with a round. The surviving contestants were already lost. All he had to do was make sure they knew who was in charge. He snapped his fingers, materialized in the tavern, and everything around him stopped.

"Congratulations!" his voice boomed in Jen and Xadrez' ears. "You two are the finalists of the Grand Battle, Season Two! And this is the final round: the city of Eddelin! It's one of the largest cities on your old friend Arkal's homeworld. Travelers come here from all over, there's a lot of important buildings, and there's just a ton of stuff going on all the time! Plays, academic lectures, I think there might be a festival starting up soon... There's just so much to do here!"

The Observer took a few steps away and snapped raised a hand, readying his fingers.

"Of course, there's only one thing for you two to be doing, and that's killing each other. But hey, there's no rule saying you can't have some fun while you're at it! Good luck, both of you!"

He snapped his fingers to start time again, and prepared to leave. There was no way he was letting the contestants lay a finger on him this time.