Sinking the Unsinkable

“Please,” Arnaluuk sighed. “Tezcatlipoca wants a statement made, so I ask you to please take this seriously.”

Odhran groaned in disapproval, tossing out the hand of the pilot he stole the plane from. “You really are no fun, are you?” He stepped up to their cargo transport’s cockpit. “How's it going, Ballsy?”

The fly-headed demon gave what objectively was an annoyed look at Odhran. “I have my own name, it's Uriah. And master is Beelzebub, not-”

“Didn't ask. How far to Ca-Goid?”

Once again, a bitter look. “Not too long.”

Odhran smiled. “Good. You know the plan?”

“Obviously. I'm the best pilot in the Lord of Flies’ air corps, a decorated sixth-circle air lieutenant and I’m being tossed in with this jackass!”

“Trust us, we know he can be difficult,” Jin-Ho agreed, idly cleaning his frying pan.

“Difficult to contain, of course!”Odhran guffawed, returning to his seat. He had just recently gotten back from a chat with Tezcatlipoca, the Warden of the Crossroads that Plumed Serpent once stood on. Apparently, he had begun considering rebuilding the nexus that Plumed Serpent resided in. However, for that, Odhran needed to make his presence known. He had been in hiding for some time, but it was time for him to burst back onto the scene. Ca-Elum was the destination, with rumors they were building the largest warship in history to ruke Ishgar’s waves. Odhran was to crush that ship, destroy it and anyone in his way in one fell swoop. The celestial spirit mage had confidence he could do this, and incredibly publicly as well. He had been scouring Ca-Elum’s news scheduling and found an upcoming live special going over the ship. That was when he would strike. Boats and planes from across the world would be delivering goods to the archipelagic nation, including one particular cargo transport from Motor City. A bit of sneaking and a few dismemberments later, the plane was now in flight.

“This is your captain, Uriah Bubonica, speaking. We are approaching our destination quickly, so please prepare for landing.”

The voice flicked off the speaker. The other Spirits dissipated away as Odhran stood up. “I’ll be fine!” He announced as the plane began rapidly descending, nose-diving towards the earth, the heavy metal missile plummeting. Anti-air began firing, but it was much too late. The plane was engulfed in flames, a burning wreck surrounding the massive storage warehouse and the carcass of the metal beast. Odhran was, admittedly, a little groggy as he stood in a convenient tent of wreckage, smoke billowing in front of him to mask the now-shouting guards.

“If there are any survivors,” a posh accent barked. “Please come out with your hands up!” There was a pause. “We detect the magic signal of… unknown origin. We have reason to believe you as the culprit!”

Odhran swelled with pride. It was much easier when people were smart enough to know he was the criminal. But… he wanted to test their smarts. The completely-unaware soldiers kept weapons and magic trained on Odhran as he casually walked out of the smoke. “Darn, you sure got me,” he said, hands raised. Even when they told him to stop moving forwards, he kept marching ahead, unwavering from his display.

“One last opportunity!” the hapless man called out once again.

Odhran stopped and shrugged. “I tried giving you an opportunity to make a realization. Alas, that’s just how it goes sometimes.”

His arms rapidly dashed out, lashing forwards with barbed tips and piercing straight through the first two soldiers’ chests. Within a blink, he was in the thick of the welcoming party, stepping on the ground to pierce through their ankles with earthen spikes. He withdrew his blades from his foes before manifesting a small pistol in his hand.

“Listen up, everyone! I am Odhran Aegisbane! God of the Celestial Spirit Realm! Destroyer of Joya! (Future) Warlord of Fiore! Look upon me and despair!” he coughed. “Right, dramatic entrance over, you’ve got a nice little boat here and it would really help me out if I were to destroy it. I mean, you get a nice boat like this and you might be able to cow some warmongering folks and honestly that just can’t do! I mean, the more people that die, the better things are off, right? People kind of suck. I mean, look at me for an example! Though, of course, not in the most basic way. The one where people are like ‘oh, you suck at this thing,’ because I am incredibly talented and-” His voice was stopped as a bullet pierced his chest. A sniper had perched on a nearby warehouse and taken fire. Odhran furrowed his brow and gave a cross look. “Fine, fine, I’ll get back on with the show.” He rapidly blasted his gun into the foreheads of the captured soldiers. “People never like it when I monologue…” he lamented, rifling through his keyring as a golden shield broke through the ground from the onslaught of gunfire. “Well, people are being quite rude, so Pudley wouldn’t be amiss, Superbia is definitely going to want to see this, Ophy hasn’t seen action in a while… and I assume that Lupa will have a BALL about this!” He smiled as he summoned all four of the summons. “Now then, friends! It’s showtime!”