Chapter 44: Foolish Revelry

-Joshua, Unpowered Fallen Member POV-

“A grand day, indeed!”

It was a celebratory call, a triumph of everything the Fallen believed in. Those of the Mathers clan that had gathered here were celebrating wildly, stolen wine and food were shared plentifully between them.

The gathering hadn’t been ordered, only suggested. Then again, with Elijah’s power and reputation, he only ever needed to ‘suggest’ something for it to happen. No one had disagreed. The true believers too rapturously happy, and those like him that were too scared to disobey.

Better to go along with Elijah’s and Mama’s wishes than to go against them.

The feeling of a hand wrapped around his shoulder made him shudder, even as he forced himself not to look behind him.

“My apologies for my ignorance, but how will the rest of the Fallen react to this blasphemy?” Joshua made sure to add the right amount of adulation and rage to his question, all to give the best appearance of a true believer.

In truth, even asking this question was risky. Elijah had always been fickle, something that pleased him one day may make him order you to break your fingers the next. Fortunately today he appeared to be in a good mood, so the effeminate man only gave him an indulgent smile.

“You mean giving our new goddess the name of a pagan?” Joshua flinched at the small amount of venom Elijah allowed to trickle into his tone. “Naturally none of us approve. Mama is planning on raiding several PRT bases, maybe even capture some of their Wards to use as breeding stock.” Elijah’s face curled into a lascivious smirk, leaving Joshua feeling vaguely sick.

“Would they not retaliate?”

Elijah’s eyes flashed dangerously at that, and Joshua realised he may have miscalculated. The line between questions and criticisms was a thin line, after all.

“No, they won’t have the time to bother chasing down a couple of kidnapped Wards. Our newest goddess slew hundreds of their ilk during their foolish, doomed, battle. Their forces will now be spread thinner than ever before.”

That was true. Usually, in an Endbringer battle, the losses would be spread out between various organisations and between heroes and villains. So unless any one group was spectacularly unlucky the balance of power didn’t typically change if an Endbringer attacked a foreign country.

But this time only the Protectorate was damaged, and if the losses were as bad as Elijah was saying then each and every Protectorate group may be down a member on average.

Certain cities, like those enforced by the Triumvirate, may be able to weather this loss with little issue. Small towns and poorer cities, however? It was likely those places would see a surge in villain activity and a less effective response time from the PRT.

“So the perfect time to obtain new livestock for the ‘farm’.” Joshua concluded.

“Indeed, perhaps if you’re good I can allow you a chance to sample some of the goods before they’re thoroughly plundered,” Elijah crooned, a sickening smile coming to life on his face.

Joshua didn’t mind. There were two types of people that willingly joined the Fallen, as he had. The religious wackjobs that actually believed the Endbringers were gods or those that simply used the belief to do as they pleased.

Joshua was, obviously, part of the latter group. He was far too intelligent to buy in to the idea that the city destroying monsters were, in any way, benevolent. Even the newest one, who many of the Fallen insisted would rebuild the world anew with only the purest left alive, was clearly just outright malicious.

“Still,” Elijah said ponderingly, “I can’t say I’m a fan of their other name either.”

No, Joshua imagined he wouldn’t be. The Fallen of the Mathers clan had originated from a religious fundamentalist of the same name. The current names of the newest Endbringer being Greek, Indian and Chinese wouldn’t be to their tastes.

Joshua was personally rather surprised that the PRT had dropped the unspoken naming standard when it came to the Endbringers, all previous ones being named after monsters from Christianity.

Then again, with the trickster angle they were pushing, it was likely the only appropriate name they might be able to attach to it would be Lucifer, or perhaps Samael. Which may have been too much, even for the PRT.

“Uh, what about Jinzhou?” The question was put forth by a slack-jaw, clearly inbred, member. Joshua crinkled his nose slightly, before regaining control and once more appearing calm and composed.

“What about Jinzhou? They’re on the other side of the world, and even if they refuse to worship the other gods -as they should- then they are still apostates to bring to heel at a later date.” The question was quickly shut down by Elijah, who was starting to look vaguely annoyed.

Ah, that was enough questions then. Joshua supposed that made sense. The residents of Jinzhou had fully disavowed any relation to the Fallen, and that was frankly the polite way of saying it. Those that the internet had been quick to label ‘The Deceived’ believed only in the newest Endbringer: Eris.

They called her by a different name, some Chinese gobbledy gook he couldn’t bother to remember. They believed her to be kind and benevolent, only fighting against the wicked and corrupt. Once they had learned of the fight in Hyderabad they were quite quick to declare the PRT and Protectorate as contemptible organisations, simply because their goddess had fought against them.

Even as Joshua was musing over Jinzhou, others had clearly not noticed Elijah’s impatience and continued to pester him. Joshua, upon noticing this, started to slowly back away.

Sure enough, after a minute more of this Elijah’s patience finally snapped.

“George, Ryan, Tobias. Peel off the skin on your left hands,” Elijah ordered. The men’s expression quickly shifted from eager curiosity to horror. Despite their best efforts all quickly began to scratch away at their skin.

“Oh, and do it quietly and without blemishing the rug with your blood,” Elijah added before turning back to his wine – completely unaffected as the men began to move in lockstep away from him, still scratching away at their skin.

In the corner he could see Eligos observing the spectacle with cruel, detached, amusement. The rest of the party had also taken notice, though their expressions leaned more towards fear.

Despite the horrid scene, it didn’t take long for the party to once again continue. The men made merry and drank copious amounts of wine. Joshua joined them, but made sure to never drink too deeply. Alcohol had a way of loosening lips and, as had already been proven, that could prove dangerous.

Eventually they reach a lull, a rare moment of quiet where all participants were inebriated enough to feel pleasant, yet not enough to impair their senses just yet. Elijah, taking the opportunity, stood up and produced a light ringing noise using his glass and a nearby fork.

It drew attention, and upon seeing who was doing it they quickly silenced themselves.

“My friends, my brothers in arms!” Elijah’s smile was eerily wide as he spoke, his voice a windchime of faith and hidden poison. “The opportunity presented to us by our newest god has come rather unexpectedly, and this opening will likely only exist for a short amount of time. We are near the city of Boston, yet that is not where we shall strike. Instead we make for Brockton Bay, that impoverished and neglected land will make a fertile soil to plant a new foundation!”

If Elijah was paying any mind to the obscene gestures some were making to each other he certainly didn’t show it. It was frankly the worst aspect of Elijah, he inspired truly terrible thoughts and behaviours – even by the standards of the Fallen.

Joshua was under no illusions regarding his own character, so the fact that Elijah made his skin crawl said a lot.

The effeminate man had based every aspect of himself after the Simurgh. The bleached white hair, the serene mask of a woman’s face, he even wore a fucking corset – for God’s sake. But that was all surface level. It was his complete disregard for others, combined with his understanding of them, that made him terrifying. Elijah spoke, and ruin followed in his wake.

Elijah had been raised by Mama to be a perfect mirror of the Simurgh. She had succeeded.

‘My beautiful, faithful, boy.’

Joshua shuddered, ignoring the crooning in his ear as he tried to stop thinking of Mama. The speech was honestly more of the same, Elijah riled up the cell of the Fallen he was leading, Eligos grunted an agreement and the rest soaked it up with religious awe.

The plan was pretty simple. The Protectorate was currently on high alert, both because of losing so many assets and because of the Endbringer still in Hyderabad. So all members of Brockton Bay were currently holed up in that fancy castle in the water, under that protective forcefield of theirs.

So, obviously, attacking head on wasn’t the plan.

Instead they would use Elijah’s powers to stage an incident, in order to lure the Protectorate out of their hidey hole. Once they were in position Eligos would lead an ambush, hopefully knocking them out before a proper response could be mounted.

Of course, if that didn’t work Elijah would be well positioned  -as he would be acting as a hostage- to master them himself. After that it was a simple matter of escaping before the PRT got a proper grasp of the situation.

There was a bit more to it than that, but it flew over Joshua’s head. Apparently Eligos would be disguised as someone called ‘Stormtiger’? He had no idea who that was, but it was supposedly so The Protectorate wouldn’t initially suspect the Fallen’s presence.

If Joshua didn’t know better he would assume Elijah was using the current situation in an attempt to become the head of the next branch of the Fallen. Except he did know better, Elijah would remain a Mathers until he died.

Which left the newest branch in a state of uncertainty. Whoever successfully convinced the other members that they should lead would have a massive influence on the Fallen going forwards.

Not that Joshua cared too much. You just had to pay attention to the politics if you wanted to survive. He shook his head, and resolved to getting a good night’s sleep as the party -and the impromptu speech turned plan- finally wrapped up.

AN: Bit of a shorter one this time. Honestly, going into this chapter I expected more to go over, and then that didn’t happen which is a bit of a shame. Oh, in other news I sprained my ankle, not fun. That was painful but it’s getting better, even if I didn’t know bruises could get so dark.

So, in this chapter, we go over a hint of what the Fallen are up to. Needless to say, they’re rather thrilled about getting a new god. The departure of Christian naming schemes not so much, just what you’d expect from a Fallen branch created from Mama Mathers.

Also, those hundreds of dead capes that used to belong to the Protectorate? Them not being around anymore is having some serious consequences beyond simply politics. Lots of villainous organisations are using the opportunity for their own ends.

The Fallen, or this part of it at least, are going to use it to make an attack of opportunity on Brockton Bay. So the ripple effects of Alexander are now reaching Brockton Bay in full force.

Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!