VAIN | Inside the Universe

Chapter Twenty Eight • Bury My Body

It seems as though ever since our game gained the power for real consequences, it has only been more endorsed. The walls of the palace cheered louder than I've heard them scream, incentivizing my every step to the throne room.

It was just what I needed; to make noise. To be heard. To take back control.

Somewhere, he had gotten the idea that he could possibly tell me what it is I want, that he knew me intimately enough for it. The very existence of guard number two had become an insult, and there is no way I am going to let that dark model of imitated charisma keep me from what I want.

And he was going to give it to me, whether I take it myself or not.

We may cheat, lie, and only abide by the rules we make ourselves, but with each declaration of battle - let it be as simple as a glance shared between us - the chessboard always resets intrinsically, eager to have us and hungry for our promises of death.

And as I swing open the towering double doors, I move three pieces off the bat.

With great gratification, the crash of the doors to their sides seemed to be no match for the innate sound of my presence, and I instantly arrest the eyes of the room - two guards on either side of the inside entrance, five formally dressed military consultants seated at the long conference table in the center of the room, Skurge who is not interesting enough to get a second glance, and Odin himself, perched up those high, golden stairs at the opposite side of where I stand.

Now, there is no being in this universe that could deny I am positively fuming. Throws of black and red practically radiate off the elemental emotion, setting each room I pass ablaze, leaving the  struggle for others to find themselves through the smoke - but this was just comical.

For two people who should now fear this game, we sure love calling on it. All he had to do to give me what I want was to quite literally fall down those steps at the end of this.

I stilled between the doors, glancing over the room authoritatively as if I weren't waiting for the 'this is serious, don't laugh' chant in my head to eventually convince myself it to be true. Keeping the playful grin in only my eyes was a strenuous feat, but I managed to fort a straight face as I finally started my way across the lavish room, barefooted and barely robed.

This silence was the most amusing thing I have ever necked. Never have I ever seen a room of men look so disoriented by a presence, nonetheless dictated by the power of the small, pattering echo of my feet against the laminated glass floor.

I let it play out for my own enjoyment, sucking in my cheek subtly to keep my composure as I passed my attention around to each pair of eyes. When I finally got to the end of the table, I settled with a long, lazy, definite stomp on the ground before finally gracing Odin's blue pair of homicidal promises with my dazzling green ones.

The table shifted in their seats, nervously waiting for the word of the Allfather to break the silence, but he seemed a bit too busy imagining his staff bashing in my head repeatedly.

Fortunately, my lips could no longer keep back their amusement, and I just started having a bit too much fun.

"Do we need a meeting to tell us Skurge is an incompetent accident?"

A strangled groan arose from one of the seats to my right - one not strong enough to break my stare with the King, but only just plaguy enough to earn some sort of retaliation. Skurge keeps his voice low, cursing under his breath for only the modest ears of the table to hear. "You are an intolerable fiend."

"You're the physical embodiment of the sole need for a purge." I roll my head his way, kicking up an eyebrow. "Only two letters away from a major identity crisis."