Chapter 61: The Ancient Game

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My accusation echoed in the sudden silence, hanging in the dust-filled air between two forces of nature and a literal god. Selene’s lips curled into a sneer. The Ancient One’s expression remained unreadable. But Quetzalcoatl… a slow, deeply amused smile spread across her face, her ancient eyes sparkling with a light that had seen galaxies born.

She gestured with the hand not holding the Sword of Ek Chuaj, encompassing the massive crater and the shattered ruins that had once been a pyramid.

"Protecting the temple, lightning bug?" Her voice was warm, laced with the kind of condescending wit only a god could pull off. "A fine job you've all done of it. And as for your witness..." She glanced at the roaring Avatar, which was still straining against its divine chains. "His testimony tends to be a bit... one-note."

Amid the adrenaline, I’d forgotten to note something. It was only then, as she spoke directly to me with that playful tone, that my brain finally rebooted. As I stood there in my Feedback form, crackling with stolen power, I processed what I was truly seeing. Quetzalcoatl. The actual, honest-to-gods Aztec chief deity. And she was a woman.

Not just any woman, either. I realized why she looked so familiar. That flowing blonde hair adorned with iridescent feathers, the athletic build that spoke of divine strength, and even the way she casually held a world-ending sword like it was a baseball bat.

No way. She looks exactly like her incarnation from Fate/Grand Order. What the hell.

I'd spent way too many hours playing that gacha game in my past life. Spent way too much money, too, chasing that damn SSR version of her. And now here she was, standing in the ruins of a Mayan pyramid, lightly mocking me after I'd tried to tattle on an immortal vampire.

Life really is stranger than fiction.

Selene started to speak, a venomous retort on her lips. The Ancient One prepared a more formal, respectful explanation. Quetzalcoatl raised a single finger, and they were both silenced, not by force, but by an overwhelming sense of cosmic futility.

"Hush now. Both of you," she said, her amusement fading into a weary wisdom. "I don't need your stories, your justifications, or your blame. I've been watching this unfold since the first artifact was disturbed. And so, I trust this good boy here."

She turned her gaze back to me, and it felt like being weighed and measured by the universe itself. "You all fought bravely. You fought for survival, for protection, for power, and for family." Her eyes met mine when she said the last word, and I knew she’d seen everything. Grandpa's sacrifice, Gwen's transformation, my desperate intervention. "I just didn’t expect Selene to be involved in this.”

She turned to the immortal witch, and the temperature in the area dropped sharply. When she spoke again, her voice carried the weight of disappointed eternity. "What you were trying was foolish and stupid, Selene Gallio. Did you think the Gods would sit still while you tried to take these things with the intention of destroying worlds?" Quetzalcoatl shook her head slowly. "You are old. You were there to see the fall of Lemuria and Atlantis. Why do you still make such bad choices?"

Selene's perfect features twisted into a scowl, but she said nothing. What could you say when a god called you out on your bullshit?

The Ancient One stepped forward, golden mandalas still spinning faintly around her hands. "Lady Quetzalcoatl, if I may ask – why now? Why intervene personally when you've let similar conflicts play out before?"

"Ah, the current Sorcerer Supreme." Quetzalcoatl's expression softened slightly. "Always so serious, you mystic guardians. To answer your question, this isn't just about stopping one ambitious vampire. This is about something much older. Much larger."

“How so?”

“You should be aware of it already, to some extent,” she began to pace, and I noticed how the cracked stone seemed to heal itself wherever her bare feet touched. "This pyramid, this prison, this entire complex – it's not unique. It's one of many nexus points in a network that spans the Americas. Similar sites exist across the world, each maintained by different pantheons. Together, they form a web that keeps certain energies in check."

"The Avatar?" Charmcaster asked, understanding dawning on her face.

"Among other things." Quetzalcoatl nodded. "That creature is genuinely dangerous – a fragment of death itself given form. In the wrong hands, it could unmake entire civilizations. Selene's ambition to control it was real, and the threat catastrophic. But..."

She paused, and her next words made my electrical form buzz with tension.

"But it’s never enough to make a God step in. The reason I’m here is that this certain scenario, this specific conflict with these specific players, is part of a pattern that predates human memory. You see, you were fighting for survival, for family, for balance. All noble goals. But you were also, unknowingly, participating in something far older."

I couldn't help myself. "Are you saying this was all some kind of game?"

"Not a game," she corrected, her voice gentle but firm. "A struggle. A philosophical conflict that has shaped the destiny of worlds since consciousness first looked up at the stars and wondered 'why?'"

She gestured broadly, and suddenly the air shimmered with images. Ancient cities rising and falling. Civilizations blooming and withering. And through it all, two forces in eternal opposition.

"For millennia, the gods of death – my friend Mictlantecuhtli among them, who you may call Ah Puch – and the gods of life and creation have engaged in this struggle. The core question is simple. Are sentient beings inherently corruptible, or can they transcend their base natures?"

"That's..." I started, then stopped. Because what do you say to that?

"Heavy? Cosmic? Unfair?" Quetzalcoatl smiled sadly. "All true. But also necessary. Each cycle, each test, involves genuine threats with real consequences. If death wins, civilizations fall. If life wins, they evolve. The stakes are always real."

The Ancient One spoke up, her voice carefully neutral. "Ah, this is what you were talking about. I understand now. Yes, the Sorcerer Supreme has always been aware of this... arrangement. We try to minimize the damage, to protect the innocent caught in the crossfire."

"And sometimes you succeed," Quetzalcoatl acknowledged. "Sometimes you don't. Atlantis and Lemuria learned that the hard way."

All eyes turned to Selene, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. When she finally spoke, her voice dripped with bitter experience.

"I knew I was being influenced and pushed. Prodded by fate's invisible hand." Her chin lifted defiantly. "But I embraced it willingly. Power is power, regardless of the source. My centuries have taught me one truth – death always wins eventually. So I thought I’d finally conquer it by enslaving the Avatar of one of the more prominent Death Gods. To truly overcome the inevitable."

Quetzalcoatl's expression hardened. "Indeed, inevitability is a lie we tell ourselves when we're too afraid to fight for something better."

Then she turned to me, and I felt the full weight of divine attention. It was like being x-rayed by the sun.

"But you, Benjamin Tennyson. You represent something unprecedented. A wild card in a game that has remained unchanged for eons."

"The Omnitrix," I said, already knowing where this was going.

"Indeed. I don't know much about it, but it was Galvan's First Thinker – Azmuth? – who built that device, correct?" At my nod, she continued. "Odin was telling me about that frog the last time we sat down for a drink. It takes quite a fascinating mind to have Odin, the All-Father, enchanted. From what I’m told, Azmuth built that thing to foster understanding between species. A noble goal. But in doing so, he inadvertently created something that defies fundamental rules."

She began listing on her fingers. "A mortal who can become non-mortal at will. A single consciousness that can experience multiple evolutionary paths. Someone who can absorb the energy of an Anodite, redirect a vampire's magic, and stand here crackling with stolen power while having a philosophical discussion with a goddess."

"When you put it like that, I sound pretty awesome," I couldn't help but quip.

"You sound like an anomaly," she corrected, but there was warmth in her voice. "The genuine danger here wasn't just Selene's ambition. If she had succeeded in controlling the Avatar and taken the Sword, it would have given death a catastrophic advantage. The balance would have tipped for millennia. The stakes were, and remain, genuinely apocalyptic. Yet, you, who’re wielding a device arguably stronger than the Sword of Ek Chuaj, fought to stop her. Therefore, the game this time was special."

She moved then, gliding over to where Grandpa Max lay. Without ceremony, she placed one hand on his chest. Golden light flowed from her fingers, sinking into his still form.

"You already saved his life with that electric shock," she explained, glancing at me. "I'm simply speeding up the recovery process. He should also feel about a decade younger when he wakes. Consider it an investment in you, Benjamin."

Max's breathing deepened, color returning to his face. Beside him, Gwen stirred slightly, as if sensing the divine energy.

"I usually wouldn't interfere so directly," Quetzalcoatl continued. "Death's touch leaves marks that even gods must respect. But you've changed the rules. Fair's fair."

She turned to Selene next, and now her expression was pure judgment. "And you. You've failed. You knew the rules of engagement, old witch. Yet you were arrogant enough to try making death your champion."

With a gesture almost too fast to follow, she traced a golden sigil in the air. It blazed like a miniature sun before shooting forward and burning itself onto Selene's forehead. The immortal sorceress didn't even try to dodge, knowing better than to fight a chief god's judgment. 

If she’d tried to resist, I had a feeling I’d see a clash far greater than the one a few minutes ago. The power of a Chief God. I was glad that wasn’t what happened. I’d enjoyed enough climatic fight for a day.

"Your power remains," Quetzalcoatl pronounced as the sigil faded from sight, though I had a feeling it was still there on some level. "But try to breach the veil between life and death again, and you'll find yourself on the wrong side permanently. And trust me, Selene – you won't enjoy what waits for those who break divine law."

Finally, she approached me. I instinctively started to move closer, but she held up a hand.

"Let's keep some distance, boy. That watch has no business being near me." Her smile took the sting out of the rejection, as she gave me a familiar look. What was that look about? And was she scared I’d scan her DNA or something? "Regardless, you've done well in stopping this situation. I can now go brag to those stubborn Death Gods. And I have a feeling you'll be more involved with the divine in the coming age. Perhaps then we'll get to sit down and talk properly next time we meet. I'd love to hear about your adventures."

“Sure thing…”

"Um, excuse me?"

We all turned to see Charmcaster, looking more nervous than I'd ever seen her. She was practically vibrating with anxiety, but determination won out.

"Lady Quetzalcoatl, I... I came here seeking answers. About death. About bringing someone back. My father, he..."

The goddess's expression softened to something almost maternal. "Oh, child. I know why you're here. I know what you've lost." She moved closer to Charmcaster, who looked like she might cry. "But death is the natural cycle. Without it, life has no meaning. Your father understood this. He wouldn't want you walking this dark path."

"But I miss him," Charmcaster whispered, and for once, all her walls were down.

"Of course you do. That's love. That's human." Quetzalcoatl reached out and gently touched Charmcaster's cheek. "Hope, was it? That is your name. It means something. Your father, the Spellbinder, was someone wise. He must have granted you that name for a reason. Honor him by living, not by trying to undo what cannot be undone. There are other ways to connect with those we've lost. Healthier ways. Perhaps the Ancient One can teach you, if you're willing to learn."

Did her father name her knowing such a thing would happen? That reminded me of a quote. Hope. Hope is a flower that only blooms in the depths of despair. So those who can grasp hope must always be surrounded by despair. 

Charmcaster nodded, tears streaming down her face. I stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on the young sorceress's shoulder. She placed her face on my chest to muffle her sniffles.

"Well then." Quetzalcoatl straightened, moving back to where the Avatar writhed in its chains. "This cycle is concluded, but the game continues. The sword comes with me, as does our prisoner here. And Selene?"

The immortal sorceress, who had been edging to flee, stopped.

"I hope next time I won't see you meddling in divine affairs. You're clever enough to find power without breaking cosmic law. Use that cleverness."

Selene clicked her tongue in annoyance but said nothing. Her gaze swept over us one last time, lingering on Grandpa Max's sleeping form. Something flickered in her eyes – regret? Frustration? Then her gaze found the Omnitrix symbol on my chest, and she stared for a long moment.

"This isn't over," she said finally, though it sounded more like a statement of fact than a threat. "The game continues, as the goddess said. And next time, I'll be better prepared for anomalies."

With that, she vanished into a portal of shadow, leaving only the scent of burnt forest and expensive perfume.

Quetzalcoatl sighed. "That one never learns. Ah well, some people need multiple lessons." She hefted the sword and gestured at the Avatar. Golden chains replaced the failing ones, and the creature seemed to shrink into itself. "Time for me to go as well. This prison needs rebuilding, and I have a death god to have words with about keeping his toys properly locked up."

"Wait," I called out as she began to glow. "What happens now? What do we do with this knowledge?" I didn’t know what I meant by that question. Honestly, when I’d awakened these memories, I was just happy to be Ben Tennyson with the Omnitrix. But… this world was much bigger than Ben 10.

Million-year-old Gods roamed the world, and behind the curtains of everyday reality, fate and Divine Chess played their games for their own agenda.

She paused, considering. "Whatever you think is right, Benjamin Tennyson. That's the beauty of free will. Just remember – every choice creates ripples. Some become waves. Some become tsunamis. Choose wisely."

The light intensified, and when it faded, she was gone. The sword was gone. The Avatar was gone. Even the oppressive atmosphere of death magic had lifted.

We were left standing in a ruined pyramid in the middle of the Mexican jungle, with two unconscious family members and more questions than answers.

"So," I said, finally letting the transformation end. The electricity faded, leaving me just regular Ben Tennyson again. Exhausted, confused, but somehow still standing. "Anyone else feel like we just got a peek behind the cosmic curtain and really wish we hadn't?"

"Speak for yourself," Charmcaster said, wiping her eyes as she pushed back from me. "I finally got an answer. Even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear."

The Ancient One nodded approvingly. "Wisdom often comes in forms we don't expect. Come, we should leave before the ley lines under the pyramid become unstable. Your grandfather and cousin need proper rest."

As we gathered our wounded and made our way out, I couldn't shake Quetzalcoatl's words. Every choice creates ripples. The Omnitrix hummed on my wrist, quiet now but always present and always ready.

I'd started this summer thinking I was just a kid with a cool watch. Now? Now I understood I was a variable in an equation that spanned millennia. A wild card in a cosmic game I'd never asked to play. 

But if I was being honest?

Part of me couldn't wait to see what happened next.

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