A Deal with Death (YS/Exalted) 1

The war was lost.

Well, it's been lost for well over a year now, since that fateful day where the Francois's military apparatus evacuated to conduct an organized resistance, but today things were a bit more... final.

Berun was occupied by the allied forces, the Unified State's and Kanata's reinforcements to the Francois resistance being enough to push all the way, and they were conducting a series of farces thinly disguised as military tribunals.

Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff was up next on the chopping block, without legal counsel or preparation, in front of a hung jury of foreign military officials.

Tanya could have wondered why they decided to conduct things so speedily, but already knew the answer. Being X, once again drawing from the mythology he so eagerly copied, decided to bring back the story of Joan of Arc, or rather, Jeanna of Orleans in this world. The peasant girl whose faithful service to her nation's pride was rewarded by execution, only for a later Pope to declare her a martyr of the faith. Growing up in the orphanage, many such tales were the only materials available to learn to read the Empire's language, which in this case just meant that Tanya had to suffer the indignity of being a reboot.

Forced into a cell with other, male, criminals, denied acceptable clothing except when in the courtroom, Judge Winchester, the story beats were updated a touch with the times but it was a familiar pattern. Tanya wondered if they'll even use burning at the stake as an execution method. If they use fire somehow, that'll be close enough to count in Tanya's books.

Despite her patient explanation of the legal rationale behind the order and how she was not in charge of Arenne (rejected, stopping such a thing and thus losing the war was a moral imperative), and her testimony as to the realities of the event (assumed to be lies), and the corroborating evidence from her orb (being able to use decoys well meant that she was capable of video editing, apparently), the guilty verdict was handed down.

The full scope of Being X's plans was made clear at the moment of execution (firing squad, unfortunately). As the leader of the execution squad asked if she had any last requests or prayers, the world stopped.

Unlike before, where the damnable spirit spoke through people, dolls, and sometimes even pictures, Being X appeared in the same form he did in their first meeting, looking every bit like modern portraits of the Christian God. All the better to follow through on his threat, Tanya supposed.

"Hello, Tanya." He began.

Tanya glared balefully at the spirit. If you wanted to be polite, you shouldn't have called me by that horrible moniker you imposed upon me.

"I suppose that's true." Being X replied to the thought, once again spitting on the concept of sanctity of mind. But that's not new. "Well, let's skip all of that and get to the point. I'm a busy God, as you well know." Before Tanya could get more than two words of coherent thought in, he continued. "It's time. You've spent all of this time acting on spite and delusion, and this is your very last chance."

Being X pointed at Tanya, right in the nose. "Pray to me sincerely, and you will be saved. My relic cannot be separated from my chosen Apostle by mere distance. Accept my light, and it will fill you with glorious purpose, spreading My Word in this world and others."

Tanya paled. Being X has always been petty and irrational, but this... It was direct and clear in a way that it wasn't, before. It wasn't him just angry that someone refused to lick his boots, but more... of a job offer. Tanya looked once more at the firing squad, closing her eyes and imagining an incoming train instead. If this was what was offered that day, instead of petty complaints, would Tanya be here now?

It didn't matter. Tanya was well acquainted with what Being X considered 'his light', through the Type 95, and it wasn't something anyone would accept, with full knowledge of what the consequences were. Oblivion by another name.

How about a third one?

What? Tanya opened her eyes, looking at Being X once more, as the most obvious threat. He seemed confused for a moment, before schooling his features. "You've decided." Being X declared.

Scowling once more, Tanya nodded. "I mean this in the most literal way, Being X: Nothing is better than what you consider glorious purpose."

Being X chuckled. "Then I can only do the one thing you would never expect me to do, you foolish mortal." The bearded spirit smiled widely. "I will stay here, and stick to my word. You will die, and then that will be the end. Just like you always thought it would go."

If Being X was trying to spook Tanya into an existential crisis, he was thirty years too late for that.

The world resumed. Tanya took a moment to remember what was happening before Being X's interference, but seeing the expectant look on the executioner, it was clear. "Prayer is what got me into this mess." Tanya stated. "I do wonder... If I was to pray for salvation, and the blessings of god brought an orb into my hands, how could that end in any way other than with the deaths of so many of his faithful?"

The executioner paused, and Being X, still visible even if no others appear to notice, contorted his face in anger. In what that petty spirit would undoubtedly call a miracle, he remained to bear witness to Tanya's final moments. "So much death and destruction... all just for one defiant soul's service. How much of this war were the designs of man, and how much of it was orchestrated by his malevolent will?"

"Hurry it up!" The executioner demanded.

Well, one advantage to execution is it lets someone go out with better last words than 'Eto?'. "I am not a martyr. Shoot anyone who says otherwise."

At that, the executioner waved his arm, and the rifles of the firing squad all shot out. Death was about as painful as it was the first time, Tanya reflected. Still, oblivion awaited.

What would you do for your revenge? To stop death?

Not beg, as is abundantly clear.

Would you sacrifice your name? Work to destroy all things? Kill even the creators of the world, consigning everything to Oblivion?

The creator of this world is already my enemy. Anyone who would call this petty spirit a friend would likely be just as bad.

If you had power, would you use it?

Leveraging resources was Tanya's best skillset. Maximized utility was what capitalism was all about, after all.

Tanya's corpse shuddered, as it took the Last Breath.

Rise once more. The Lords of Death have all fallen with the Creation of their birth, but Oblivions work is not yet done. Rise, in your new name.

The barrage of bullets, far in excess of what would be sufficient, had torn the bindings that wrapped the former corpse. Staggering forward, the shadow of a man in a business suit, with the purples and reds of the evening sky reflecting off of his glasses rose behind the bloodied form. Thrice-Forsaken Functionary of Merciless Termination lifted their head, the brand of a burning sun bleeding upon their brow. Ledgers spring from the ether, blood-red ink drawing the eyes of the spectators as they enumerated the bloody bottom lines of those who witnessed them.

Being X's expression was beautiful. It had surprise, it had confusion, it had disappointment, but most of all, it had something that The Functionary was intimately familiar with. Fear.

The spectators had immediately skipped the part where they tried to kill the monstrosity before them, and instead just went straight to fleeing for their lives. The Functionary spat into their hand, and the blood formed around the chunk of bullets that had killed them less than a minute before. The shadow of the man behind them pulled out a shadowy frame of a familiar submachine gun, and when the memory fused with the blood and bullets, they combined into a very real amalgamation of essence and matter, tortured souls of fallen soldiers moaning from the black metal bayonet attached to the weapon.

The Functionary stabbed forward with their new weapon, right into the chest of the gobsmacked spirit that was foolish enough to appear before a Deathknight in person. Arcane glyphs, a familiar sight to this world, appeared around, dragging the petty god's spirit into the material world kicking and screaming, metaphorically that is. A literal example will have to wait.

The spirit finally found his voice once more. "W-what did you do? How are you doing this?"

Mocking laughter answered his question. "I was consigned to Oblivion, as agreed." The Functionary's rictus grin belied the sheer joy they had at finally laying hands on their foe. "As it turned out, Oblivion's contract had better terms. I'd say that you'd understand, but logic was never your strong suit, Being X."

The Functionary was about to finish the job, but then they got inspired. Where was it? Oh yes, it was just a prayer away, wasn't it? "O Lord, I beseech you." They began. Golden light began to light up their eyes. "Bring suffering to my foes, bind them eternally into a hell that they cannot escape." The Elenium Arms Type 95 Computational Orb appeared between the two beings, shining with divine light. The man's shadow placed his hands around the orb, the metal slowly being stained by the exposure. "Burn the False Idol, who draws mortals away from the Truth!" The light, laced with dark ink, lashed out at the imprisoned god.

Being X gritted his teeth, struggling to move, but his radiant aura was being siphoned into the orb before him, and with his own power striking his weakened defenses, it was all he could do to survive.

The Functionary's rapturous expression was the last thing Being X saw as they sang a sincere prayer. "O Lord! From now until the end of days, watch over and see the works I will bring into this world! All in your honor!" With a flash and tentacles of grasping darkness and light, the damnable Being X was absorbed into the relic and the Type 95 dimmed into inactivity, the Functionary's essence caging it for future torments.

Glancing around at the abandoned execution yard, The Functionary chuckled. "Well, while it's been doing a fine job destroying itself, I think it's time for this world's... performance review."