Half Of A Story
"You hit like a sack of potatoes," the Shade grumbled between clenched teeth, his voice strained with both agony and a hint of dark humor.
Adam's lips quirked in a faint smirk, the tension easing a notch as he saw the Shade's attempt at levity despite the situation. "Maybe next time, I'll aim for something softer," he replied dryly, his tone lightening.
The Shade winced as he attempted to sit up, still holding his side. "I'll remember that," he muttered, a grudging respect mingling with the pain in his voice.
"Have you calmed down a bit?" Adam asked.
"Eat a dick!" the shade yelled back but didn't make a move to attack again.
Adam sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Look, I'm trying to understand what's going on here. You're clearly pissed off, but throwing tantrums isn't going to get us anywhere."
The shade's golden eyes flared with residual anger, but he remained still. "You don't get it, do you? I was killed! Betrayed, left to rot! So excuse me, if I'm just a tad bit fucking mad!"
Adam's expression remained neutral. "Who did this to you?"
"That short bitch and his whore! That fucking bitch of a daughter he has, too. And that bitch fucking midget who stabbed me in the back! And now you're here, all calm and collected, like nothing happened." The shade spat on the ground. "Why the fucking fuck do you think I called your twink ass here?! Go fucking kill them, you useless cunt!"
Adam's hand landed on the larger man's hair and ruffled it harshly. "You sure are one cheeky brat. Grabbing this old man from who knows where and ordering me around. Who do you think you are?"
"Get your fucking hand off me, you blonde bitch! And who the fuck are you calling a brat?" The shade tried to bite Adam to no avail. "I'm motherfucking Adam! The Fucking Dickmaster!"
Adam grabbed the shade's head and shook it from side to side, a sigh escaping his lips. "And that right there is the problem. How can you be Adam if I'm Adam? We don't even look the same."
"Damn straight, we don't! This right here is pure perfection, not that short prepubescent tragedy you call a body. I'm bet you can't reach my waist, you damn shithead" The shade growled, batting Adam's hand away. "Turns out the Big G went with the whole 'don't put all your eggs in one basket' when it came to creation. That explains why he kept going AFK all the damn time."
Adam raised an eyebrow, trying to process the shade's words. "So, you're saying there are two versions of us? Two Adams?"
The shade nodded, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, looks like it. Each one probably with their own story, their own shit to deal with. All with little differences here and there. For example, while we're both Adam, I'm Perfect, and you're not."
"But why?" Adam asked with a tilt of his head. "Seems like a pain to keep track of all of it."
The shade shrugged, its expression morphing into a mixture of frustration and bitterness. "Who knows? Maybe he thought it would be entertaining. Or maybe he just got bored. All I know is there is another me in front of me when he should doing his fucking job. There might be more, but I ain't sure " The Shade shrugged. "None of them as fucking metal as me, obviously."
Adam hummed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm still gonna call you 'Shade' in my head. Otherwise, it'll get confusing."
The Shade's eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and incredulity. "How the in the ever-loving fuck do you get confused in your own—" He paused, the irritation evident in his voice. "You know what, I don't care. Guess I'll refer to you as 'dumbass' in my head."
Adam chuckled softly, the sound breaking through the tension. "Fair enough. But you know, maybe we could come up with something better. 'Dumbass' is a bit... harsh"
The Shade scowled, but the edge in his voice softened slightly. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly winning any awards for creative nicknames yourself."
Adam shrugged, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but 'Shade' is simple. It suits your condition, doesn't it? You're not a soul, but the leftover emotions of one—always lurking, always there, but never quite seen. Never here or there." Just like Adam was before he was summoned to Ragnarok. "After all, you did spend some time hidden in the shade of my soul."
The Shade's eyes narrowed slightly, contemplating Adam's words. "Yeah, well, I didn't ask for a cozy vacation in your shitty soul. It wasn't exactly a picnic in there, you know."
Adam nodded in understanding. "I get it. It wasn't exactly a joyride for either of us. But here we are, figuring things out together."
The Shade scoffed, but there was a hint of begrudging acknowledgment in his tone. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, 'Adam'. Just don't expect me to start singing Kumbaya anytime soon."
"So how exactly did you summon me?" Adam asked, curiosity tinging his voice.
The Shade glanced sideways at Adam, his expression guarded. "It wasn't exactly intentional. More like an S.O.S. that somehow reached you through the cracks."
Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A cry for help?"
"What fuck no! I don't cry for help. It was...uh ..an order" the Shade muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "When my soul tried to split from the rest and ascend to God's side, a small fragment of me refused to let go. I was drowning in anger and despair, and in that moment of absolute rage, I called out to anyone who would listen. Next thing I know, you're standing there, ready to throw down with everyone and their mother, with me at the center of your soul, like some fucked up Gundam shit.."
Adam nodded slowly, digesting the information. "So, a residual echo of your rage summoned me."
"Something like that, that part of me kept me from moving on. So, I prayed to Big G" the Shade replied curtly, his eyes scanning their surroundings warily. "I didn't expect it to actually work."
"Big G.. you mentioned him before. He's a big deal, right?" Adam asked, poking the shade in the forehead. "Who's that, your friend?"
"God, you slow shithead! Jesus Christ, you're dumb," the shade snapped at him, grabbing his finger.
Adam clicked his tongue in annoyance, his expression laced with skepticism. "Of course, it was the fault of a god," he muttered to himself, the frustration evident in his tone. "At least I know who to blame, and if it comes to it, whose ass to kick."
He turned to the Shade, raising an eyebrow in question. "So which god was it? Zeus? The lightning guy with the hammer? Or maybe the one with the microphone? It couldn't have been that guy, right?"
"Kick his ass? Pfft, please. Big G will make you his sex toy," the Shade scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Also, Seriously? Zeus? Are you still stuck in ancient mythology? No, not that bunch of clowns. We're talking about the Big G, the Creator, the Almighty himself."
"...who?"
"The guy we're made in His image." the Shade growled.
"But we don't look the same?"
"Not literally!" the shade bashed his head on the ground. "Holy fucking shit, you're stupid."
Adam scratched his head, clearly perplexed. "So, we're made in the image of this Almighty, but not literally?"
The shade let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling dramatically. "Exactly! He made us to be like him, but not in a physical copy-paste way."
Adam furrowed his brow, genuine confusion knitting his features. "So, how does that work?"
The shade's anger simmered just beneath the surface, evident in its sharp tone. "Look, it's not about the physical appearance! It's about the essence, the concept, you know? We're supposed to embody his qualities, his nature, not his literal looks!"
Adam nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "So, we're like... reflections of his characteristics?"
The shade's frustration leaked through its words. "Yes, exactly! And let me tell you, his anger? His vengeance? Yeah, I've got plenty of that shit."
Adam raised an eyebrow, sensing the shade's seething anger. "Why are you so angry then?"
The shade's voice grew harsher, laced with bitterness. "Because I got fucking killed, that's why! Murdered in cold blood by those hell-dwelling cunts. Left to rot in this hellhole!"
Adam's expression softened, sympathy creasing his features. "Whoa... That's... rough."
The shade scoffed, bitterness dripping from its words. "You bet your ass it is and now you're here, calm as a cucumber, like everything's fucking dandy."
Adam's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you expect me to do about it?"
The shade shot Adam an incredulous look. "What do you think? I brought you here for revenge! You should be killing those cunts and skull fucking their corpses."
Adam shook his head, his voice firm. "I can't condone revenge. It solves nothing."
The shade's anger flared, its words spat with venom. "Solves nothing? They murdered me! What would you do if someone killed you?"
Adam remained composed, unfazed by the shade's outburst. "I'd seek justice, not revenge. There's a difference."
"You think I buy into your sanctimonious act?" the Shade scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm."You know, that 'Boy Scout, goody-two-shoes, turn the other cheek' shit really doesn't sound convincing after you beat the hell out of literal Hell and proclaimed yourself fucking God, you blasphemous fuck!" The shade's voice trembled with rage, its golden eyes blazing. "Why the fuck did you go there if it wasn't to avenge me!?"
For Eve.
"Because the Valkyrie told me that—Oh." Adam's voice trailed off, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him like the first rays of dawn breaking through a stormy night. This wasn't his world.
This wasn't his world.
The weight of responsibility and dread that had gripped his heart since his arrival began to lift, replaced by an overwhelming flood of relief.
A profound sense of joy surged through him, his knees nearly buckling beneath the weight of his revelation. His Eve, his beloved wife, was safe. She had never been in danger. Images of her flashed through his mind—her gentle smile, the warmth of her embrace, and the peace in her eyes. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Adam allowed himself to believe that he hadn't failed to protect her.
His chest tightened with emotion, and he struggled to steady his breathing as a tear of relief escaped down his cheek. "She's safe," he whispered, the words carrying a weight of gratitude and disbelief.
"About time you fucking realized that. I have to admit, you're really way too dumb to be an Adam," the shade grumbled, looking down at Adam's kneeling form. "Okay, okay, your bitch is fine. Stop making it a big deal."
Despite the shade's crude words, a small smile tugged at the corners of Adam's mouth. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I needed that."
The Shade rolled his eyes.
Wait, if his Eve was never in danger, then the serpent never actually tried to test him again.
And the serpent was back in his own world.
...did Adam beat up this world's serpent for nothing?
No, across all creation the Serpent could never be anything more than just a stain of shit on the world, Adam nodded to himself.
It was a fact ingrained in all creation, like Adam's love for his children; Eve's enduring beauty, her adorable charm, her smile as bright as the sun, and her touch as gentle as the clouds, her laughter, a melody sweeter than any bird's song, her eyes, pools of endless sky-blue, held a warmth that could melt the coldest of souls, her presence alone could turn the darkest day into dawn of hope and joy, her grace in movement, like a dance of the wind through the trees, captivated all who beheld her, her voice, a soothing whisper of the universe, brought peace to the restless and comfort to the weary; The Earth being round.
And the Serpent? It deserved every bit of the beatdown Adam gave it.
Because even if it wasn't his Eve that the Serpent deceived, he still ruined Eve's life. And that was more than enough to suffer Adam's wrath.
Realization settling heavily upon him, he turned to the Shade.
"Lute's tale.....she was talking about your Eve," Adam addressed the Shade with a sympathetic voice.
The Shade's expression softened momentarily, a mix of guarded hope and lingering anger evident in his eyes. "What about her?"
Adam hesitated, sensing the weight of his next words. "She's not safe," he said quietly, the realization hitting him hard as he pieced together the fragments of information. The Eve trapped in Hell belonged to the Shade.
A pained silence followed as the Shade averted his gaze, his voice strained. "Eve is gone."
"Did you try to find her?" Adam asked gently, hoping against hope for a different answer.
The Shade's bitterness surfaced again. "That thing is not my wife."
Adam furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the Shade's words. Suddenly, it clicked. The creature he encountered in the depths of Hell, clinging desperately to the Shade's form and calling it her beloved—the yearning in her voice and the anguish in her presence...
That was Eve.
Yet, the creature was foul, and malicious, feeding off the souls of the innocent. To think that Eve could ever become like that...
She was not his Eve, yet she was once human.
A human.
And that was reason enough—for her to be reduced to such a state.
"That thing is not Eve," the Shade repeated bitterly, his voice thick with resentment and grief, the weight of loss heavy upon him.
The idea of returning to Hell began to feel increasingly compelling.
Yet, there was still something to be addressed.
Before he let his wrath show again to the surface, the first thing to decide was to gain an understanding of where he was.
And how many would feel his fist?
He stopped in his tracks.
He put off asking this question long enough.
"You've been hurt," Adam stated quietly, prompting the Shade to turn and give him a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. The Shade opened his mouth to retort, but the earnest concern in Adam's eyes silenced him.
"Damn straight, I got fucked over," the Shade replied with a huff, his jaw tightening visibly.
"Very well, the person responsible for your perishing was the Serpent, the guy named Lucifer, right?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, that's right," he spat. "Lucifuck. The snake. The fucking backstabber."
"Okay, I will kill him," Adam said, his voice resolute. The Serpent was still alive only because Adam had been distracted by the corrupted Eve. "But before that, I still have one thing to make sure of."
Adam turned his gaze to the side, peering into the darkness that surrounded them, seeing beyond the physical forms of the souls they were amidst. His eyes traced the countless hollowed and anguished echoes of souls, chained and dragged along the ground.
"Were you the one who killed them?"
"You bet your ass I did," the Shade laughed with a cruel grin. "And I looked fucking spectacular doing it."
"They're not souls," Adam murmured, almost to himself. "They're echoes of souls. Echoes of humans."
"They may not be my descendants," he continued softly, "but they're human. And that's enough."
The Shade watched Adam, sensing a deeper reflection in his words. The Shade's pain and hatred were evident, yet Adam knew that being hurt was no justification for harming others, especially one's children.
"These humans, chained to your soul," Adam began, his voice steady but probing. "Why did you kill them?"
A cynical grin spread across the Shade's face, a bitter twist to his expression. "Because they deserved it."
"They are your flesh and bone," Adam insisted.
The smirk on the Shade's face twisted into an expression of absolute loathing. "Then I reject them. The shitheads do not deserve to be called my descendants."
Adam's fingers twitched, and with a sudden, brutal motion, he drove his fist into the Shade's chest. The sound was sickening—a wet crunch as ribs shattered and flesh gave way. Blood spurted from the Shade's mouth, and his eyes widened in shock and pain. Adam's hand dug deeper, feeling the sticky warmth of blood coat his skin as he reached the Shade's heart.
The Shade's scream was guttural, raw with agony. Adam twisted his hand, the Shade's chest caving in further, bones splintering under the force. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, pooling around them. Adam's expression was cold, detached, as he tore his hand free, ripping out a chunk of the Shade's innards. The Shade crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing, blood flowing freely from the massive wound. Adam stood over him, his bloodied hand dripping, the gore and viscera a stark contrast to the darkness around them. The Shade's breaths came in ragged gasps.
The damage was fatal, but he wouldn't die.
Because he wasn't alive to begin with, and Adam did not put his essence into it.
Adam would never kill a human.
Adam's eyes blazed with a cold, furious light as he looked down at the broken figure before him. "Do you have no shame?" His voice was low and steady, each word laced with contempt. "You call yourself a father?"
The Shade writhed on the ground, his body twitching in agony, blood seeping into the dirt beneath him. He tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound emerged, his mouth frothing with crimson.
Adam's fury did not abate. He knelt beside the Shade, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him slightly off the ground. "You slaughtered them," he hissed, his grip tightening. "Those echoes of humanity. You were supposed to protect them, guide them. Instead, you became their tormentor."
The Shade's eyes, filled with pain and resentment, locked onto Adam's. "They... deserved it," he rasped, each word a struggle. "All of them... traitors..."
Adam's expression hardened further. "Deserved it?" He spat the words out. "No child deserves to be killed by their father's hand."
The Shade's face twisted in a grimace, trying to muster defiance despite his broken state. "You... don't fuckin ... understand... the betrayal..."
"Betrayal?" Adam's voice was almost a growl now. "You betrayed your own nature, your own purpose. You let your pain turn you into a monster."
The Shade's teeth gritted as he slammed his fist into the ground, lifting himself up despite the blood pouring from his wounds. His bloodshot eyes glared at Adam with absolute hatred. "Who... who the fuck... do you think you are to judge me? I... am Adam!" he spat, his voice a mixture of rage and agony.
Adam's eyes blazed with fury, his own anger surging at the Shade's defiance. "You are not Adam," he retorted, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You are a twisted, broken version of what Adam should be. You are a mockery of the name. 'Adam' is a father who loved his children, and nurtured and protected them. He made mistakes, but he never justified killing his own kin."
"I am Adam!" The Shade spoke defiantly, his voice low and bitter. "And I've never made a mistake in my life. I'm not going to be judged by a fucker high on his own farts who's never suffered a day in his life!"
Adam's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he fought to control his rising fury. The Shade rose to his full height, looming over Adam on wobbly feet. Blood seeped from the hole in his chest, staining his clothes, but he refused to buckle. His breathing was heavy, each breath a painful rasp, and his scowl deepened as he glared at Adam.
"You... have no right," the Shade spat through gritted teeth, his voice thick with pain and anger. "You think you know... what it's like? You think you understand... the shit I've been through?"
Adam closed his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he willed himself to calm down. The torrent of anger that had surged through him moments ago now ebbed, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion and fatigue. Weariness lined his features as he spoke, the weight of everything they had just confronted settling heavily on his shoulders.
"You're right. I don't," Adam replied firmly, his voice tinged with the weariness of someone who had seen too much. He lowered himself to the floor, each movement deliberate yet laden with exhaustion. With a sweeping motion of his hand, he gestured to a spot beside him. "Sit down."
The Shade hesitated, eyes narrowed with suspicion and pain, but something in Adam's demeanor spoke of genuine intent. Reluctantly, he eased himself down onto the ground.
Adam's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. "I hate you," he stated flatly, his words heavy with unresolved emotions and weariness that seemed to stretch beyond the present moment. His gaze, usually steady and determined, now held a flicker of pain and frustration.
The Shade's reaction was immediate. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing into a glare that bore into Adam with venomous intensity. "Hate me all you want," he retorted sharply, his voice laced with bitterness and defiance. "But you don't understand a damn thing."
Adam's expression remained stoic, though the turmoil within him simmered just beneath the surface. "Maybe not," he conceded, his tone calm yet edged with a hint of regret. "But I'm willing to listen."
The Shade scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him as he turned away briefly as if to gather his thoughts. "Listening won't change a thing," he muttered, the words more to himself than to Adam.
Adam watched him closely, a mixture of frustration and determination etched on his features. "Maybe not," he repeated, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "But it's a start."
The Shade's shoulders tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. He glanced back at Adam, a mix of defiance and pain in his eyes. "Fine," he muttered grudgingly, finally sinking down beside Adam, his posture rigid and guarded.
For a long moment, silence hung between them like a heavy shroud, broken only by the faint echoes of distant cries and the faint rustle of restless souls nearby. Adam's posture remained relaxed yet attentive, a silent invitation for the Shade to start whenever he was ready.
Finally, the Shade spoke, his voice gravelly with suppressed emotion. "Since you're fucking hung up on the poor children I'll start from there. You...how many kids did you have?"
Adam's lips twitched with a proud number—three trillion, four hundred fifty-six billion, seven hundred eighty-nine million, twelve thousand, three hundred forty-five—but he held it back. He doubted that was what the Shade was asking about.
"Twenty-eight. Ten sons and eighteen daughters," Adam finally answered, his voice steady despite the weight of his lineage.
The Shade snorted, a bitter edge to the sound but lacking its usual heat. "Weak. I had one hundred and forty-four kids."
"I suppose each one left their mark in their own way," Adam said softly, more to himself than to the Shade, his thoughts drifting to his own descendants and the complexities of their individual journeys.
The Shade glanced at Adam, a hint of appreciation in his gaze. "Aye, they do," he acknowledged gruffly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime of experiences, both bitter and sweet.
"And of those kids, how many made it to Heaven?" the Shade asked.
"The afterlife in my realm, Valhalla, differs from the Heaven of your realm," Adam explained, leaning back. Unlike his descendants, Adam and Eve were more of an idea, so the 'him' in Valhalla was less a soul and more of a shade like the one standing in front of him. "But likely all except my eldest son, Cain."
"That's more than I managed," the Shade said with a tired smile. "Out of one hundred and forty-four kids, only three made it to Heaven. Cain was condemned to Hell. The rest... "His voice trailed off, his gaze flickering away for a moment, a hint of moisture glistening in his eyes as he looked to the side.
"...the rest were consumed by that Thing