Tweet of the Day: Baldur as Old Norse Answer to Jesus
Whitechapel, City of London, UK, 26 July, 00:35 hrs GMT
The firestorm illuminated the dark city skyline. Made it easier to track the devastation from the arching fireballs. I weaved through stalled traffic to the roar of the motorbike between my legs and the pop-pop of distant gunfire. I reached Tower Bridge. The frame of two lorries burned at each end of the bridge.
Car bombs. Cut off both sides of the city.
Similar fires burned on London Bridge. I hit the deck when a salvo of rockets sailed overhead. Fountains of earth and ruble erupted on both ends of the bridge. I shook my head to clear it from the shock of the explosions. On the opposite lane three charred fingers poked poked the driver side glass of a Ford Fiesta. Thick grey smoke from the bonnet covered whoever they belong to.
Just enough time to realize they were endangered but not enough to escape it.
The culprits sailed up the river to the bridge. I unsheathed Excalibur. Wind rushed around me. With a push of Air I jumped from the bridge to the deck of the landing craft. Men with assault rifles hefted rockets into position. One of them yelled a warning.
I extended an arm. Fire sheathed in Air shot out from my open palm. The fireball exploded at their feet. Men scattered, munitions burned. Another push of Air sent me over the gunwale. The boat exploded somewhere above me. The cool waters of the Thames muted the heat but did not stop the shock wave. It blasted the air of my chest as I rolled wildly in the darkness. For a moment I thought of letting go.
This is not my fight. This is not my place. The hell it isn’t!
Light meant up, and up meant life. I summoned the currents to me. The Thames spat me unto a nearby jetty. I rolled on impact. Somehow Excalibur did not slice me open nor did I cracked my skull on the concrete. More ships sailed up the river.
The direct approach is not always the best.
I’ve used the superheated air to propel me, now it was time to use the river’s current in my favor. I swept Excalibur in a slow, downward arc. A giant wave rose from beneath Tower Bridge. It raced downriver. It smashed into one of the bombard boats. It capsized while firing shells. A few hit another rocket boat, which exploded. A troop transport collided with the river bank. The force of the impact shattered the skeletons aboard into a cloud of matchsticks.
A pair of tanks rounded the corner and fired on targets down river. The Army was now in the fight. A unearthly screech pierced the air. A dragon landed between the vehicles. The beast swiped on into the river with its tail. It ripped the turret out and spewed a torrent on flame into the remains. Moving so much water, even with Excalibur help, pushed me to the limit, but I be damned if I was going to let that thing kill more people.
I ran up to it. With another push of Air I jumped into its head. Excalibur sank to the hilt into its skull. It screamed and thrashed in pain. Then it collapsed. The blood bubbled from the wound setting the skin aflame. I jumped back. The beast burned up like a sheet of paper. More tanks appeared joined by helicopters and jet fighters from above.
The tide had turned.