HSDxD: The Roots of Hope

Plot: The apocalypse could not be stopped, at the end of creation a fragment of hope is cast back upon the winds of time to prevent this fate. One young man will awaken from his death into a larger world he never imagined. Trained by Gods, Valkyries and men, can his newfound power stop the coming storm? A power tied to the foundations of Yggdrasil itself...

Pairing: OC, Rossweisse

Vidar gripped his gut in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, if he was lucky he could reach the Bifrost with all his organs accounted for. He had been the strongest champion of the Norse people…yet against what assailed them his power had been for naught.

Asgard burned around him, a fire even Surtr himself could not have hoped to match…truly, for he too had fallen when Musphelheim collapsed upon itself. The people called this Ragnarok…yet the prophesized Ragnarok would have been far kinder.

A great beast loomed behind him, completing its work of laying their once proud city to waste. All their armies…their champions both gods and mortals had fallen. Only those that had reached the Bifrost in time may still live…however briefly.

The creature…the Trihexa…the dreaded apocalypse of all creation rampaged, ensuring not a single brick would stand for future generations to know that Asgard had ever been. If the stories were to be believed…there would be no future generations. Vidar looked away…not wishing to stomach its horrific twisting form any longer.

Victory looked within their grasp not long ago…as the chief deities of every mythology across all worlds had put aside their differences in an effort to seal the beast away so that it may never threaten creation again. Even their Lord Odin and Lady Freyja had reconciled and focused all their power to aiding the effort.

It had not been enough.

Despite the cumulative effort, the Trihexa had overpowered them all…slaying each in turn until finally it was let loose upon Midgard. That was where the forces of the Red Dragon Emperor…The Pervert Dragon himself had stood against it with all his allies and those called friends…even foes. They had all fallen…even the Great Red and Ophis lay among the slain…The Trihexa's power far beyond what any imagined. It was theorized it had amplified its strength from the slain deities…but no way to determine the validity of these claims.

Midgard was the first of many worlds to burn. The walking calamity moved on…assailing the Gates of Heaven…the Pits of Hell…Olypmus had crumbled along with all who lived there. They had no news from the other mythologies and it was safe to assume the same had befallen them. The Trihexa's swath of destruction knew no limits and in time finally reached the shores of the Norse Pantheon. Once upon them the oncoming storm had moved with brutal power and malice…the eight other realms had fallen…only Asgard remained. The last vestige of morale remaining was the cry that they had held out the longest…that the strongest warriors of creation now remained…but Vidar knew better.

We survived this long solely by the whims of fate…the Trihexa had saved us for last…

"My lord!" A tall muscular woman called out as he flung open the doors to the Bifrost, immediately slamming them behind him. Despite her muscular build she retained her feminine beauty which her incredible skill alone could match. She was the warrior Sif and the final true champion remaining to their ranks.

"Why is the Bifrost not open?" Vidar demanded, this was no time for courtesy. "We must escape wherever we may!"

"It…is open my lord."

Vidar's face paled…the rainbow bridge extended before them; however it disappeared into nothing. Once truly opened the chosen path would appear before them…all that stared back was the empty void of space. The blank void…not a single star shone back.

There is truly nothing left…we are the last of all life…

As that last bit of hope fled from him the doors burst open, the first line of remaining soldiers perished in an instant. Sif leapt into battle…cleaving one of the talons cleanly from the emerging claw. Such a feat would have gone down in song…but there were none left to sing. The wound healed instantly…and Sif joined those that came before. A torrent of flame entered the room, bathing Vidar in heat as he slowly faded away.

We go…to what might lay beyond…if even that still exists…

The flame billowed past all in the room, striking the roots wrapped around the dais in the center of the chamber…the last roots of the World Tree Yggdrasil. Before the Trihexa's wrath, the roots had reached all throughout the nine realms and beyond…with the fall of each world they had shriveled, those that existed in the room all that remained of the once colossal tree spanning the cosmos.

The roots dried and cracked, disintegrating out of existence as the beast concluded its work…the Twilight of the Gods and Mortals had come at last.

But…in its overwhelming victory…the bringer of death had neglected a single piece…a fragment barely larger than an acorn fall from the roots before the fire could consume it. Rolling across the ground it tumbled into the open, directionless Bifrost…disappearing into the blackness of space…and time…

Japan…Present Day…

"A dangerous situation currently unfolds," the reporter announced on the television. "A housing complex has caught fire with rescue teams working diligently to bring it under control. Word is that everyone in the building was evacuated safely, however reports are still scattered…"

The building was engulfed in flames; firefighters were successful in keeping the blaze contained, however despite their efforts the building would not last much longer. Hundreds of people bustled, helped, yelled words of command and well wishes as they worked as hard as they could. In an instant…everything grew silent. The people were still there as was the fire…but all had completely frozen, stopped in their tracks with the rest of time.

An old man suddenly appeared amidst the chaos, he wore a blue and gold robe leaning him to appear as some form of royalty. A long white beard stretched down to his stomach, despite his surety of steps he only retained a single eye, his left missing and replaced with a gold eyepatch.

Beside him walked a beautiful woman, she had long silver hair reaching down to her ankles garbed in armor that would have caught the eye of any man who beheld it. A large white and blue breastplate shimmered on her ample chest, the fingerless gauntlets, boots and hip-guards matching in color. Her midriff would have been bare if not for the inclusion of a black leotard beneath her armor…a true Valkyrie of Asgard.

The two walked inside the building, the flames no longer a threat to them. The older gentleman strolled in as if he had not a care in the world while the woman was ever vigilant…acting as if enemies may descend at any moment. Neither were affected by the inexplicable phenomena that had ceased time around them.

"Allfather," she started at length. "Are you certain this is the correct place? What would it be doing here?"

"That is what we are here to find out Ms. Rossweisse," he replied, using his response as an excuse to eye her up and down as he was want to do. "The greater question is how it is here ANYWHERE at all."

Rossweisse nodded, taking in the destruction stopped in time around them. Another altercation between Angels, Fallen Angels and Devils with mortals being caught in the crossfire…it was the first time she had entered the realm of a different mythology despite still being within Midgard.

The two continued their frozen journey until they reached the third floor of the doomed building. Rossweisse looked down to find a young man lying prostrate on the ground. He was amidst the flames; blood trickled from a wound on the back of his head caused by a falling beam. He would never make it before the rescue crews could put out the fire.

"He is the only living being in this building," Rossweisse reported. "It MUST be him."

"Formerly living," the old man known as Odin corrected. "This blow killed him…but you are right nonetheless."

Rossweisse knelt beside the body; touching the back of his head gently. As a Valkyrie she could judge those who died…witnessing their final moments to determine if they were worthy of Valhalla.

Time rewound to her, the flames receding into the walls, the furniture reconstructing and righting itself…within a matter of seconds the room was as it had been not long before. A monstrous shape filled the door; large black wings blocking out the light of the hall. Before it a small girl cowered in fear, behind her stood a swordsman wearing a long trench coat. Despite the majesty of the swords he wielded the swordsman had a manic, almost deranged look on his face…blood drenched each of his blades. They were both completely focused upon each other and heedless of the innocent girl between them.

As they charged, a shape darted out of the next door room…it was the young man who now lay dead before them holding a broken board of wood. In a flash he grabbed the small girl tucked under an arm, twisting so the incoming wing struck the wood he held in his free hand…splintering it and throwing the two into a nearby support beam.

The two monsters clashed, laying waste to the room, but the humans were safe. The young man threw away the useless twig remaining as he smiled at the little girl awkwardly, trying not to scare her.

"A-are you ok?" He asked, rubbing the sore spot where his head had struck the beam.

The little girl nodded with a sniffle, wiping tears from her eyes. "Look out!"

The man spun around, the beam he had crashed into cracked and fell forward. With no time to move he pushed the girl hard towards a side exit.

"RUN!" He screamed before his world went black.

Rossweisse opened her eyes, back in the present, wiping a single tear that had fallen down her face.

"He did indeed die in this battle. He was protecting a young girl from them." Rossweisse recalled their trek inside…remembering a crying toddler being tended to by a paramedic…she had made it out. "He succeeded…technically speaking he is worthy…albeit barely."

Odin nodded at her words, delving into his robe, producing a ring with his sigil upon it. Gently he held it up to the boy's body…causing a deep blue light to emerge and cover him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…until the light fell upon his right hand. Instantly, it shimmered and changed to a bright teal almost green coloration…upon closer inspection a silhouette had appeared around his hand. The silhouette was of a gauntlet stretching to his elbow…it seemed to be made of gnarled roots yet retained a metallic sheen to it. Odin hid the ring within his robes, the boy's arm returning to normal as the mystic light dimmed.

"Prepare the Bifrost," Odin commanded. "We are taking him back."

"But Allfather!" Rossweisse protested. "Do we not risk an incident if we bring back a mortal from a differing mythology?"

"Yes…but no one has yet come to claim his soul," Odin clarified. "Besides…this little piece of him is from OUR mythology…that gives us some claim. You do know acting so uptight over a man is the reason you don't have a boyfriend right?"

The Valkyrie's demeanor changed, she bit her lower lip and appeared to be doing all in her power to hold back tears.

"N-now is not the time for that Allfather," she squeaked out. "I am serious!"

"Still making my Valkyries cry dear husband? I suppose not much has changed."

The two spun to behold a newcomer walking equally unharmed through the ravaged building. It was a voluptuous woman; despite the maturity of her bearing she looked to be almost the same age as the silver-haired warrior with purple hair braided expertly and what appeared to be vines and other assortments of nature. She was clad in Valkyrie armor only gold in coloration and much more ornate with a trailing green cloak.

"Lady Freyja," Rossweisse bowed politely. "I did not know you would be here."

"Of course you didn't dear girl," the woman replied. "That's because the forgetful lech beside you did not deem to inform me of this little…outing."

"I uh…just did not wish you alarm you my dear," the old man rationalized. He had started sweating profusely as he spoke…the woman was clearly not buying it. She groaned upon realizing he couldn't stop staring at her body…if only he'd been so committed when they were together…

"Uh huh, and here I thought you may have been trying to sneak out with ANOTHER of my Valkyries…I am not certain whether this reason is better or worse." She stepped past him, looking over the slain boy…her eyes falling upon his right hand. "How is this possible?" She asked, her playful demeanor falling away to allow her Queenly nature to shine through.

"I do not know," Odin sighed. "All of Yggdrasil is currently accounted for…yet there you have it…a fragment when there are no missing fragments…quite the riddle."

"I cannot believe it has come to this…but I agree with you," the Goddess stood back to her full height. "We must reincarnate the boy and get him behind the walls of Asgard immediately."

Rossweisse raised her hands to protest but immediately gave up. If the implications of this could upset both the Aesir and the Vanir…who was she to argue?

"Excellent," Odin reached out his hand, bathing the young man in a golden light. "Once back I can make him my ward…try to determine…"

"Oh no," Freyja stepped in front, pushing him back with a check from her sizable breasts. "If I recall YOU were the one who insisted your assistants all come from MY Valkyries and my retainers from your Einherjar…or has my memory faded after a few millennia?"

"Well…no but I…" he tried, but the argument was already lost. As always his perverted lecherous tendencies had been his downfall.

"We may train him TOGETHER once we return home," Freyja insisted, her eyes burning with determination and vision. "Besides…I have been looking for a new retainer, the boy…is mine. Who is he?"

Odin raised his hand; signaling a bird to swoop down towards him. The bird was a raven, but no ordinary raven. The avian shimmered in and out of sight with each passing second and glimmered the color of emeralds in the sky. As it passed over the raven dropped a single parchment into the Allfather's hands. Clearing his throat the Norse God started to read.

"Seventeen years old, he hails from the United States with his ancestry tracing back to English, French and Germanic roots. Nothing out of the ordinary at a glance…an orphan, no family to speak of…he was visiting Japan as part of a cultural exchange program; his name…is Dorian Held."