Complications of Mortality | Druig x OC

VI | Mourn

Authors Note

This is where the plot begins to slow down a bit in order to make the final fight seem more impactful and for readers to form a deeper connection to the main character. That being said, I wanted to mention that Akiva and Druig's story will surpass the ending of the Eternals film. 

Thank you for reading, mon coeurs, 

Atlas. 

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The family dynamic shattered.

A nauseating pass of realization swam over the crowd, causing a stillness among them that was almost eerie in nature. Ajak was motherly to them; though they would hate to admit it out loud. But she had the same motherhood relationship with each and every one of the eternals. Thena was still as the sentence passed through her ears. Her intense eyes rested on the floor, nostrils flaring as she forced herself to take a few breaths. Ajak was their compass, their entire sense of direction. She had given Thena her life, reasoning when she was infected with Mahd Wy'ry, and compromising to ensure that she never lost the years of herself she had devoted to the Earth. The goddess watched as human civilizations were born. As they grew and thrived. As the empires fell and were born once again from the rubble of powerless corruption. 

While Sersi watched as humans loved, Thena watched as they suffered. 

She owed the woman everything. Her eyelids fluttered as she shut her eyes, a hot tear falling down her cheek as her head fell forward. 

Gilgamesh was her protector. He made sure that she never hurt herself or anyone else, cradling her broken mind as it split and she lost herself. Holding her fragile body as she abandoned who she used to be, feeling herself slip away every time Mahd Wy'ry took over her consciousness. The disease had only ever been a fairytale until a few hundred years ago, and now, she couldn't bear to call it something associated with such positive connotations. 

No one was here to hold her now. 

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Thena didn't know if she was even still here. Only a husk of her former self stood in the room now. Her shaking hands reached up, crossing her arms over her chest. She held herself tightly, wrapping her arms around her shell of a body and pressing flat into her upper arms. She refused to let the rest of them see her like this, blinking away the pricking sensation in her waterline as she retained her focus on the ground.

"Is it true?" Sersi asked, chest swelling and causing her voice to crack as she spoke in the shushed whisper. She was pleading to herself that Druig was lying. That Ikaris could never be capable of doing such a thing. Akiva recognized the shaking in her throat, the way that each syllable couldn't pass her lips without quivering. It was because she already knew the answer. Asking it aloud was just a formality. Akiva leaned off of the wall, removing her hands from behind her back. 

Ikaris' shoulders rolled backwards, a comfortable action from doing it thousands of times before. There was a line down his spine, perfectly straight as he moved and held himself so highly. He was the perfect warrior, strong and righteous. In the same vein as Druig, but not within a proximal cluster, he too gave off the illusion that he was sculpted from clay. Everything about his physicality's were so intentional. It wasn't until the end that the others could see how his imperfections were swallowing him whole. 

"I killed her. And I will kill each and every one of you if you try to get in the way of the emergence." His voice was unwavering. 

"It's your decision whether or not we go through with this, boss," Kingo spoke up, starting the less than ideal flow of conversation. The back and forth was in rapid succession, Akiva didn't have time to process it all.