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Truth and Defection

A soft wind was blowing over Rego's synthetic skin and his soft black fur. The muscular panther sat on top of one of the giant skycrappers of Asgard. The pale blue light reflected on his torso, legs and right arm, all the parts of him that were covered in the grey blue material, called Soulsteel. He sighed as he watched down from the highest building of the city, the tower of the temple. His eyes, also techically improved, scanned the area. Rego could see temperatures, make out details in great distances and see in the dark without problem. But now he saw nothing that would be worth his attention. It was deep in the night, but still the streets of Asgard were ignited by the all-present pale blue light and many people of every kind were out and about to do their jobs, make errands or whatever they had to do so late. The light of the streets was bright and nearly hurt Rego's sensetive eyes. He rather watched the stars. Their light was always so soft like the gentel wind of the closing summer. Then a scream disturbed the silence of the panther. Immediatelly his muscles tensed and he got moving. That was the sign he had been waiting for. He jumped of the tip of the building and landed without a single noise on the bridge that connected the highest tower in the north of the temple with the one in the east, and had been at least twenty feet under the big feline only a few moments ago. Rego's foot paws carried him fast and steady over the bridge, which was around one mile long and at least two above ground. The panther entered the eastern tower and quickly walked up the stairs in towards the upper chambers. No light was lit in the hallway, but that didn't bother the panther. He reached the end of the last hallway and as he approched, a flat blade formed out of the Soulsteel on his right arm, just above his wrist. Silentely Rego now opened the simple wooden door, just enough to slip in the room. Unnoticed he entered. The chamber didn't cointain much. A simple table, two chairs, which weren't less basic. A small holoscreen and bookshelves were the last things in the room, besides the target of the panther. The old fox sat in front of the windows, that reached from the gound to the ceiling. His eyes were closed and he was deeply focused on something. 'He must be very into his role.' Rego thought. One day ago he got a top secret file, directely from the Voice of the Gods, the speaker of their rulers, completely obidient to their wishes and orders and therefore the bringer of their very own whims. In this file Rego was ordered to silence the fox who now sat before him, not even aware to the presence of the assassin and his ending story. With each silent step the panther made the death of the fox drew closer and closer. Balefully the blade on Rego's wrist reflected the light of the candles, the only source of light. Accused to be an imposter, who works for dark forces the fox had to die, that was the whim of the gods. Only mere inches seperated them now. In a motion so swift normal eyes would barely be able to follow the panther reached down and grabbed the fox around his throat and pulled him up. A muffled scream came from Rego's victim and his green eyes widened in shock and terror. But there was something else in his eyes, something that the panther never had seen in his victims' eyes before.Innocence. At least a part of all the others he had killed had known the reason for which they had to pay with their lifes, but this fox had no clue and that made the panther stop in his deadly motion. "Your crimes doesn't go unnoticed to our Lords." The panther said, but the expression of the vulpine didn't change. Now disbelief mixed to the fear and terror. "But...I have been loyal..." He pressed out from his lips, though speaking was difficult for him with the hand of the panther still thightly around his throat. For a long moment the panther looked in the eyes of the fox. "...I know Hands of our Lords always grant one last wish....I want to know what my crime is..." The vulpine said and that made Rego let him fall down finally. No pleads for mercy, no wishes for more time, just the wish for the truth, the reason his gods demanded his death. Although Rego couldn't really answer that question. The file he had recieved didn't contained a reason, what was unusual, but he hadn't questioned it since it was what the gods demanded. But now he had doubts. The file said that the fox had accused the gods, but this was far less explecit than the usual describitions. The panther had doubts, even if it was highly forbidden to doubt the will of the gods. But Rego would not strike down an innocent person. And then he saw the truth. In a sudden flash of bitter thruth he saw what he had been used to. To make sure everyone who doubted the superior divine power of the gods would never speak them out loud. To make sure, noone would ever doubt them or question their desicions. To make sure, noone would ever threaten their reign. It was a painfull truth and it flodded the sneses of the panther. He didn't know what was true and what was false anymore. This wasn't a live he wanted to live, this wasn't a place he wanted to be. He felt alone, cold and used. These feelings were everything he felt for a moment. For a moment they were his world and with a sudden sensation of heat and light the panther wasn't in Asgard anymore. He sat on a dead field. Snow and ice covered it for miles and miles. There was no live. Not a singel plant nor an animal lived there. He really was alone now. The feeling of the all-present cold seeped in his body, and he knew if he wouldn't find a way to find protection soon, this dead field of ice and snow would become his tomb. Then his sharpened senses felt something. A source of warmth in the distant. Far a way like a star in the night sky. Tjur sat on the ground in front of the chimney. A huge monstrous pitch black feral bear like creature lay next to him and enjoyed the rubbing fingers of the demon on his horned head and made his dragon like tail twitch as it purred from the touch. Tjur smiled. This big beast had been his companion for centuries in the solitude of Niflheim, and even if he didn't talk, the bull appreciated his company so very much. The demon stood up and stretched slightly. His massive beefy body stood eight feet tall and that didn't include the three pairs of bovine horns on his head, which towered on head like a black crown, one pair behind the other, each a little smaller than the pair in front of them. He walked over to the desk he had made of heavy oaken wood, that he brought from another world. There in Niflheim were no trees, no woods or forests, just the deadly desert of ice and darkness. The constant night of this world were an additional reason nearly nothing lived there. Tjur took a jug of mead, he had brought from Midgard. He took a big gulp of the hot liquid and felt the warmth of the mead spread though his nude beefy body. He sighed softly and leaned against the table as he watched the flames dance in the chimney. Then a knock disturbed his peacefull silence. That was indeed odd to the bull. Nearly nothing lived on this world and the few living beings usually didn't knock. He wrapped a fur around his body as he walked over to the door. The big bear, actually a lower demon, called Barias, follwed the bull like the most loyal dogs of the world of mortals. Before the demon could open the door another knock could be heard, though it sounded odd, somehow metal...