Landslide

Volume I: Rubble

“Flee from me, insignificant mortals!” Alduin roared from his crash site within the Membrane when he saw the approaching figures of the Boiche and the Argonian coming towards him.

“Maybe we should leave,” the Boiche whispered as the Non-Air became unbearably hot and went cold in an instant. “He seems like he doesn’t want any visitors.”

“No, that’s just Alduin.” The Argonian seemed to be unfazed by the giant black dragon, and pointed towards him. “See, he has little time left.”

The Boiche looked at the Dragon Who Could Consume The World and noticed the scales that covered his body were broken and dusty, and when he breathed it came out more like a shudder as dust flowed from his mouth. A large gash in his stomach poured black blood that looked more like water.

“He’s… dying?” she gasped. “But gods can’t die.”

“Sure they can. Now let’s go talk to this one before it does.”

The two finally arrived at the small rupture within the once bound theoretical contingencies, a walk that had taken centuries while their discussion only took a second. Alduin roared and threatened to kill them, but it appeared that he was to weaken too do more than that.

“I said go.” The black dragon growled in his throat. “Obey me!”

The Argonian set his companion upon the ground, where she almost blinked from existence had he not grasped a part of her finger at the last eon. “Even after the Giant has done this to you and blood flows from your stomach, you still threaten?”

At that Alduin laughed so hard that areas of the Membrane began to crack in several pieces, and a cry of pain so powerful the ear drums of all within the space between illusions burst, only to be mended in mere seconds.

“That is not blood flowing from me, mortal,” the dragon groaned. “That is TIME! The Giant has injured me, and I will die, and time will never end.” He beckoned the two of them towards him, and the companions walked through the ages until they sat upon the dying god’s snout. “That is why I tried to kill the Giant. Most of the others were already gone; Auri-El is lost, Alkosh is dead, and Peryite I do not know.”

“Akatosh?” The Boiche said hopefully.

“Erased,” Alduin said as his eyelids begin to unravel and disintegrate and his form lifted into the air. “The cloth cannot exist if the stitches that make it unravel.” He shook himself (the two on his snout fell onto a river of time-blood and was carried away back into the desolation) and looked into the Distance-That-Was-Near and saw the Giant descending upon him.

DIE. SMASH!! Brass foot through bone!

Blink. Alduin was gone.

The Boiche and the Argonian screamed as brass fingers descended and lifted them into the Non-Air, the blood of Alduin dripping through its hands. The two notice a Sunbird in the distance, crippled from nonpoint-explosions along its hull that the Giant’s other hand had caused.

“Refugee ship!” the Boiche yelled happily.

“You screaming does no good,” the Argonian’s voice dripped with irony. “Egg-Cracker has us. We are dead.”

GONE.

Brass hand moves to squish—

—Brass hand moves to destroy.

“STAND DOWN, MY SWEET NUMIDIUM, OR I SWEAR BY THE FIFTEEN-AND-ONE TONES I WILL KILL YOU AND ALL YOUR PEOPLE.”

“Impossible!” the Argonian yelled in equals parts surprise and outrage as another Giant moved into range, fleshy.

“Nerevar?” the Boiche wondered.

Volume III: Avalanche