https://youtu.be/Id77VZ4aeps

Hallowed halls, draped in white. Sky-high pillars, evenly spaced and extending past the immeasurably high arched ceiling. The walls were crafted in a milky white chalk with a black marbling pattern all over it that somehow looked natural. The floor was covered with what seemed to be a cloud-like mist, enveloping the ground like a sheet. If it were to be described in one word, that word would be...ethereal. And at the end of the tunnel, there was no light, but a stained glass portrait covering the entire area of what would otherwise be an exit. This portrait featured what looked to be a green sky, with a mosaic yellow sun setting at the bottom, and its tint bathed the hall in a subtle emerald light.

In these halls was a lone man, with a neutral look on his effeminate face as he stared straight at the portrait ahead of him. Dressed in celadon silk robes with thin golden snake patterns printed on it, his legs were covered in a pair of similarly-coloured trousers. His black, steel-toed boots made a tapping noise as he trode calmly yet decisively through the hall. His complexion was that of caramel, and his eyes were the green of a forest, framed by long eyelashes. His hair, meanwhile, was a pale shade of blond, being just scruffy enough for the white flowers he had slotted in the side to stay there, and long enough for him to tie it into a low, short ponytail behind his head.

As he took his slow steps, he gazed at the portrait ahead of him, admiring the handiwork as his neutral expression became a small smile. As he continued to approach the goal, a voice was heard - loud, deep, and booming like thunder, it filled the entire hall with its presence, despite the speaker's evident invisibility:

"Welcome, Ozwald, to the Hall of the Myriad Might!"

The blond man, with a chuckle, shook his head slowly, making an easygoing wave and taking it in stride. "It's just 'Oz'."

"...are you sure?" the voice asked, its grandiosity slightly making way for confusion. "I could've sworn it was short for something..."

"It is short," Oz replied, stopping his stride to look up to the ceiling. "For it is only two letters long!"

"...and we're absolutely positive that it isn't just a nickname?""

"Believe me, Thor." Oz shook his head, half-amused and half-exasperated. "I have a pretty good idea what my name is supposed to be."

"...right, of course." Thor cleared his throat, before repeating with gusto. "Of course! Haha! I was merely testing your worth! One who cannot even remember his own name is surely unfit to claim the power of Myriad Might! You have performed admirably, Ozwald."

"Oz."

Thor remained silent, taking a deep breath at that, and Oz stared at the ceiling for a little longer, smiling unflinchingly. "...so, the ceremony?"

"Right, right. Just...keep walking." Thor said, and Oz, nodding, looked ahead and obeyed, continuing to walk while Thor prepared himself to go through the motions once again, this time without using what he'd assumed as Oz's full name for the sake of formality. So once more, in his roaring voice, he spoke.

"Welcome, Oz, to the Hall of the Myriad Might! I am Thor, the God of Thunder, and I shall be your guide through this hall."

As Thor spoke, Oz listened intently, his expression returning to neutral as he looked around, finding all this green suited him quite well - but still, he thought the place could do with a little more decoration. It was grand, yes, but still very vanilla, and that was simply unacceptable.

"Now, you - and the readers - may be wondering just what the Myriad Might is supposed to be. It has been brought up, so an explanation is due, wouldn't you say?"

"Starting in medias res tends to induce such questions, I find." Oz commented, something that Thor didn't respond to. Oz didn't know, either, so it shouldn't be a problem, he thought. "What is it, anyway?"

"I was just getting onto that." Thor said. "The Myriad Might is a force that works in mysterious ways. It is the source of all magic, and everybody can tap into its power to cast spells, much like you."

As a demonstration, Oz held out his hand and snapped his fingers, and in a burst of light whose motes resembled playing-card spades, he conjured up a mask in it - a theatrical comedy mask that was half-green and half-white, split evenly down the middle. He kept it in his hand and continued walking, while Thor did his part and continued to speak.

"However, if an individual is smiled upon by the gods, like yourself, then that individual can be taken to this Hall. It is through these means that these people obtain even more divine power." Thor explained. "The power of Myriad Might shapes itself for the bearer's soul. So we will need to determine, first, what your soul looks like."

The mist in the room began to rise up, engulfing the entire hall, and Oz looked around in confusion before figuring that he probably ought to just keep walking. It was a straight line, after all, and as he walked it, he hummed lightly to himself until the fog cleared out and Thor returned.

"So it would seem...your soul is one filled with benevolence and creativity." he told him. "Very well, then. I will ask you questions, and it will be your duty to answer them. But the Hall will know when you lie. So, uh...don't."

"Understood, Thor." Oz briefly bowed his head. "I will heed this warning, and stay standing at all times."

"Right, well, I meant the other kind of lying. As in, not telling the truth."

"I understand." Oz nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he looked ahead, staring at the stained glass portrait up ahead that seemed to stop getting closer as he walked. "Shall we begin?"

"We shall!" Thor bellowed. "We shall begin the Ceremony of the Myriad Might!"

https://youtu.be/V2ieTnwJR5E

It felt weird being Oz right now. Walking alone in a beautiful hall, surrounded in a strange mist. He could definitely see the walls moving as he did, so he knew he was moving, but he simply did not seem to be getting anywhere. The portrait at the end was moving away from him, and seemingly the walls with it. He awaited Thor's questioning, which soon came.

"Tell me, Oz." he began, his voice suddenly calmer and less boisterous. "Is there such a thing as evil? Does it truly exist, or is it merely abstract?"

"It..." Oz murmured, pondering on all this with his eyes closed. "I believe...that there is no such thing. There are certainly evil actions. I'd have to be an utter fool to deny it. But there's no such thing as a truly evil person. Even the most villainous among us have good in our hearts."

He opened his eyes and saw that the portrait had seemingly moved closer while he had walked, which put a smile on his face that was quickly wiped off when he continued walking and saw that it had started moving away. Thor, for his part, simply moved on to the next question.

"Do you believe it to be possible to forgive someone for atrocities not done to you?"

Oz thought about this for a while before looking up, his expression pensive. "I think you can." he replied. "The further you are from being affected by the atrocity, the less it means...but I think everyone's goodwill means something. And being forgiven by those around you...well, it can help you become a better person. It helps one who has sinned feel that they are worthy of redemption."

"Which brings me to my next question." Thor stated, watching as Oz walked ahead again, this time allowed to make a little progress in getting closer to the portrait before it once again began to move with him, artificially elongating the experience. "Do you believe that there is such a thing as an irredeemable action?"

"Of course not!" Oz announced indignantly, shaking his head. "There's nobody in this world who is beyond redemption! All they need is a guiding hand...and the will to take it."

"How optimistic. But what if-" Thor began, before clearing his throat. "Ah, sorry. I can't ask you that, it's not one of the questions."

"Well, now you've got me curious." Oz continued walking, watching the phenomenon with the giant portrait repeat itself. "What was it?"

"Anyway!" Thor blatantly ignored him, much to his visible disappointment. "My next question is simple. Upon meeting their demise, a good person goes to Asgard as an einherjar, and an evil person goes to Helheim as a demon. But how do you become good or evil? Is it inherent? Are you born good or evil, or is it learned?"

"It's learned. It has to be." Oz replied, conviction in his voice. "Because it can be taught. By the people around you, and the life you've lived. Some people learn different lessons from the same lecture, but all in all, that's still them learning their morality."

"Interesting..." Thor hummed a little. "Perhaps this last question will be the one that shakes you."

Oz raised a quizzical eyebrow and smiled slightly. "Oh, really? Challenge accepted." The door was drawing close, and he only had one question left, after all. He could take this.

With a clearing of his throat, Thor began. "I'm sure you're familiar with the famous 'trolley dilemma', yes?"

"...oh no." Oz murmured, his bravado instantly fading as he looked around, his face filled with nervousness and distress. "Can I take a different question? Pretty please, oh mighty God of Thunder?"

"You may not." Thor replied calmly, to which Oz sighed and started running towards the goal - to no avail. "May I ask why this is so distressing to you?"

"W-Well, it's just, you see...trolleys! They're my one weakness!" he stammered, stopping his sprint once he realised it was getting him nowhere. "Yes, you see, my goldfish, valiant hero that he was, was slain by a trolley in a sacrifice to save my life! There are still some very poor memories, so no trollies!"

Thor sighed audibly, recognising that it was mostly a lie but choosing to accept it anyway, watching Oz draw closer and closer to the portrait until he was standing right before it. "There's just one more thing I must confirm." Thor replied as the glass began to crack, and the light it hid behind it began to peek through. "You are not...opposed to fighting, are you?"

"Not at all." Oz shook his head, welcoming the change of topic with open arms as he closely examined the glass artwork, his hand on his chin. "I would rather avoid it, but I find it's often the best way to get a point across or settle a conflict."

After a pause as the cracks grew wider, Oz then added, "Provided, of course, that the outcome isn't lethal. Otherwise, no one's happy."

"Oho, as a war god, I can tell you that not everyone would agree with that."

"Well, it's alright. If people weren't wrong every now and then, there'd be no meaning to being right!"

The two of them shared a chuckle as Oz watched the portrait crumble, shattering into pieces that fell into the sunset horizon on the other side, shining with a bright light that the einherjar could only stare into. His eyes were used to such brightness, so he could stare into it, standing still with his arms by his side and his mask in one hand. The longer he looked, the more he felt his body filling up with its awesome power as he heard Thor speak.

"This is but a taste of the power that the Myriad Might holds! On you, Oz Abendroth, I bestow an innovative light, so that you may always have an armament with which to spread your message of peace!" he exclaimed, and at once Oz felt like he could see the hall beginning to fade away, all his surroundings becoming transparent and leaving only him behind. "This is the power of the Hallowed Forge - and it is now yours!"

And now, he had left the Hall, with light in his soul and a smile on his face. The ceremony was complete, and with this divine energy coursing through his veins, like a warm ray of sunlight surrounding his body. Now ready to join the fight, he knew this power would take some getting used to, but once he had, there was nothing that could stop him; evil or otherwise.

.........

https://youtu.be/f_f8KbixEKo

Several months had passed since that day. Under the guidance of Thor, Oz was able to learn how to harness the power of the Hallowed Forge to form weapons made out of what seemed to be hardened light magic. Honing his fighting style around it, he learned to be versatile in combat, and as the Forge granted him more power, his skills too were forged in the fires of war, for the Thunder God was a very strict teacher, but one that Oz would always be grateful to have.

Up until this point, Oz had always been a mere knight, among the lowest in the ranks of the Knights of Odin. He didn't mind for the most part - he was for the most part just happy to serve his land and king. However, thanks to receiving the power of Myriad Might, he had found his power increasing exponentially, rising above his peers even when he wasn't using it. So today, he'd decided it was time for a little test.

The picturesque heaven that was Asgard was, for the most part, a land of bliss. Its beautiful blue sky, with clouds and rainbows always seeming to be visible, and its vast mountains peering into them. With lush fields and clear blue rivers, it was clear to anyone who gazed upon its magnificence that this was the other side on which the grass was greener.

However, it was also a land of warriors, for the righteous must know how to defend themselves from evil when it strikes. Martial and magical prowess was promoted in the heavens, and for this reason, there were plenty of spots where one could train their skills.

One such spot was located in an open field under a setting crimson sun, with green grass circling a wide makeshift arena, with grey stone on the ground and the white symbol of a Web of Wyrd stretching across it. Standing in the middle of it, as if waiting for something or someone, was Thor himself.

If nothing else, he certainly had the divine looks of a god, with short, scruffy red hair, a short beard of the same colour, and bright green eyes that were friendly and inviting. His physique was healthy and muscular, befitting a god of war, and he wore a silver suit of plate armour, with yellow linings at the intersections and a yellow cape covering his left side while fastened at his right shoulder. His skin had a healthy tan to it, and overall, he looked like a human male; middle-aged, but in excellent shape. He had a jovial smile on his face, his arms crossed.

Soon after, however, he was joined by a woman, who appeared to be around Oz's age. Her hair was auburn in colour, and though long, it was tied over her shoulder with a white scrunchie. Her eyes were an unfeeling purple, and her skin was pale, with a fading scar on her cheek. Her clothing was formal, consisting of a violet military tunic with silver trimmings, worn over a grey shirt and matching trousers, topped off with a pair of silver military boots. On her chest was a silver winged badge, which the deity recognised as a sign of rank. This woman was a first class knight, one rank above the alleged rank-and-file.

As she scanned her surroundings closely, she noticed Thor standing there and stared at him as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a note and reading it once more. The writing was done on a floral-scented sheet of paper, and the script was very tidy, with some rather impressive cursive. And it read:

"You! Yes, that's right, you know who you are! If you picked up this note, I'm talking to you!

I've been watching you for quite some time now, and I must say you are quite skilled! The way you wield your weapon is exquisite! A work of art in the form of combat!

My excitement simply cannot be contained! I challenge you to a duel! Meet me at the Fields of Orlaeg at sunset today! I won't forgive you if you don't show up!

Signed, The Comic Mask."

Now, she didn't know who this was, nor was she especially certain who this cheerful man standing before her was, but he did look cheerful enough to have written such a hammy letter. As she approached Thor, she spoke in a soft monotone;

"Excuse me..." she asked him, as he looked down at her with a jolly grin. "But...are you 'The Comic Mask'?"

"I am not." Thor shook his head slowly, eyeing her closely as he tried to size up her overall character. She seemed rather unemotional, putting up an exterior of possibly-feigned confidence and dignity. "I am merely accompanying him."

"Oh..." the woman nodded in understanding, once again scanning the area to make sure she hadn't missed anyone else - but no, it seemed like she and this man were the only ones here. Turning back to Thor, she then asked, "Then...where is he?"

"He shouldn't be too far from here, now. All in due time." Thor replied, shrugging a little. "But while we wait, may I ask for your name?"

She eyed him curiously, having wanted to ask him that first, and maybe get to know more about the Comic Mask in the meantime. Still, it would have been rude to demand anything before answering his question, so she simply bowed her head politely before him. "...my name is Yuri Croce."

"I see. It's quite nice to meet you, Yuri." Thor beamed.

"And...what's your-"

"So, you finally arrive...Yuri Cross."

Yuri's question was cut off by the bombastic announcement and mispronunciation of her surname. As she looked up to the sky, she extended both arms, and her weapons appeared in her hands in a burst of what seemed to be eagle feathers. In her right hand appeared a majestic falchion. Its hilt was silver and ornately designed, with a guard similar to rose vines. Its blade was purple, but around the sharp edge, it faded into silver. In her left hand, meanwhile, was a heater shield, silver in colour with the image of a perched eagle emblazoned on it.

"Show yourself."

https://youtu.be/pcORQjSRzto

Once she said that, a bolt of green lightning fell from the sky, hitting the other side of the arena, and from where it struck, Oz was now visible, having assumed a crouching position. On his face was his trusty comedy mask, and as he stood up, he and Thor exchanged a glance before the latter stepped aside, visibly amused.

The mask most likely reflecting Oz's real expression, he took a gracious bow as he took the time to examine Yuri closely. "Welcome, Yuri Cross. I am the Comic Mask, and I am here to do battle with you!"

Yuri kept her stance defensive with her shield raised, but she stared at the masked man curiously, realising fairly soon that he was familiar somehow. But how, she wondered. "...I am Yuri Croce." she corrected him, deciding to get that out of the way as she stepped forward, getting a better look at him. "...I've seen you before."

"Have you, now?" he asked, intrigued as he kept a close eye on her, standing up straight. "To lay eyes on someone you have never spoken to before, and tell him you recognise him? What an interesting move..."

"I've definitely seen you before." Yuri shook her head slowly. "It's true...we've never had any reason to talk, but...I've seen you around. You're one of the unranked knights..."

Once she said that, Oz began clapping quickly, before twirling around and taking a bow. "Guilty as charged! You have sharp eyes, don't you?" he complimented. "And your name, Yuri - it's like that of a little bird. So, I've decided; from now on, you'll be called 'Yuri the Eagle'!"

"...Eagle? What are you talking about?" Yuri raised an eyebrow in confusion, before shaking her head. "Never mind...what's this all about, anyway? This...challenge you sent me. Why is an unranked knight challenging a first-class?"

She put her shield away and pulled out the letter once again, holding it up as Oz smiled under the mask. "Good question!" he exclaimed, a hand pressed to his heart. "This unranked knight has been training hard, and he is surely worthy of a rank by now! But his miserly commander has yet to notice his effort! So he-"

"You can stop speaking in third person now, 'Mr. Comic'." Thor chuckled, as Oz nodded quickly.

"Right, sorry." he replied, clearing his throat. "Now, as I was saying, I've been working hard, you know? And I want to prove to him, and to myself, that my hard work has borne fruit. So, if I can put up a good fight against someone who outranks me, maybe he'll notice."

"That makes sense, I suppose..." she replied, taking a deep breath as she resummoned her shield, entering a defensive stance. "Before we begin...may I have your name?"

"Of course! Just call me Oz!"

"...is that-"

"No, it is not short for anything." Oz sighed, holding out his hand as he summoned what looked like a futuristic pistol, its body a sleek white while its grip faded into a metallic green. Yuri watched him and slowly nodded, eyeing him closely like an eagle watching its prey. Though his expression was unreadable for obvious reasons, she could tell from observing him that he was quite enjoying himself right now. But what that would say about his overall skill level was unknown.

https://youtu.be/UuF00V6qPKY

"...Oz." she murmured to herself. "Know that I won't hold back."

Oz laughed at that, sounding positively delighted as he twirled his gun ostentatiously, ending with a flamboyant pose with the firearm held above his head. "I wouldn't have it any other way!" he declared. "Now, then, Eagle...may I have this dance?"

At once, he straightened his stance, pulling the trigger and firing a bullet made from what seemed to be hardened light. Yuri reacted quickly, raising her shield and deflecting the round. Oz didn't let up, continuing to fire as he steadily advanced towards her, but even when he would suddenly switch his aim, she would move her shield accordingly, successfully defending herself in the nick of time.

Oz stopped moving forward once he felt he was close enough, but all the same he opened fire, watching her slowly step towards him. He held his free hand out, summoning what seemed to be a spherical white grenade with the word 'Bladesung' transcribed on it with a yellow font.

He threw the explosive at her, but while it was still in the air, he spun around and shot a magic bullet at it. The two collided as the female raised her shield, and as the grenade exploded, a powerful surge of green lightning was unleashed. Even her defenses couldn't save her, and she staggered a little, only to stay strong.

Still, Oz took advantage of that brief window of opportunity and heard the hammer of a blacksmith striking steel in his mind, as in his hand formed a mass of motes of light that quickly took the shape of a rapier, formed from a brilliant hardened holy magic. He gripped its hilt, and at a blinding speed, he rushed towards her, performing a dazzling thrust that she was just about able to parry with her sword.

Their blades met, and as Oz retracted his, he went in for another thrust, which was swiftly blocked by her shield. And again, and again, he attempted to strike, but no matter how fast the flurry of jabs he performed was, it was never quick enough to break this impregnable wall.

"You're quite skilled." he told her, thrusting at what he thought was an opening only to immediately be parried by her sword. "I can hardly even land a hit!"

"Your swordplay isn't half-bad, either." Yuri admitted, and their blades clashed multiple times until they met one another head-on. "But at that level, you'll never match my sword, nor will you ever break my shield."

"Really?" he commented. "It's a good thing, then, that I'm a firm believer in taking a third option!"

Before Yuri could question that, Oz was gone in a flash, and Yuri felt a harsh sting in her back, finding Oz standing there with his rapier in hand. She turned around, sweeping her leg across to trip him up, and as he fell on his back, she raised her sword. Said blade was now surrounded in a bright blue, swirling aura, reminiscent of thick flames, leaving no trace of the sword itself.

She performed a quick downward swing, the power and pain of her attack enhanced by the magic within. As she smote him, he let out a cry, feeling a sharp, burning pain in the section of his torso where he had been slashed. She kicked his body and stomped on it, about to launch a downward stab until he unsummoned his sword and latched onto her leg.

Thrown off by this move, Yuri tried to shake him off, at which point he pushed her away, letting go and tumbling away so he could stand up safely. Leaping to his feet, he began to run, circling her as he fired his gun at her. She raised her shield, blocking his attacks while he tried to figure out how best to get past her guard. One thing he noticed as he opened fire was the design on her shield - the eagle was no longer perched, but was now taking flight.

He wasn't sure what to make of that, and he got out a different grenade - this one arrow-shaped with a green inscription on it; "Flan". He fired a bullet before quickly hurling it at her, wanting to strike from two different angles, but he was surprised when she simply blocked the grenade. It exploded harmlessly against her shield while she simply allowed the bullet to hit her.

Once the grenade exploded, the eagle symbol began to glow a bright blue as she raised her shield right in front of her. Keeping this seemingly defensive stance, she charged towards Oz. Since they were at a relatively close distance, he couldn't react quickly enough, and so he felt the impact of her shield crashing against him, followed by a mighty surge of water that washed him away like a tidal wave. He fell onto the ground once more, and with haste he stood up.

With the blacksmith's hammer pounding in his head, he formed two crescent-shaped blades on his forearms and approached her with a sprint. She held out her shield as she saw him approach, and it seemed to morph into water before reshaping itself into a falchion, identical to her other one. She crossed her blades, preparing to catch and parry his attacks, but right when he reached her, he warped behind her, quick as a flash, and struck her with both blades.

He went on the attack, becoming a spinning, dancing whirlwind of light blades as he rotated several times, unleashing a sequence of cuts on her in quick succession. After a while, she successfully turned around with a spinning slash and he jumped backwards a few times in retreat, removing the blades and aiming his gun at her, while she readied her swords for an offensive strike.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was for him to summon a second pistol. With a quick "Haha!", he went absolutely buck-wild, shooting holy bullets at her with reckless abandon. She was peppered with bullets for the first few seconds only to raise her blades and begin parrying the bullets. The random arrangement of the bullets led them to be unpredictable, but Yuri was able to focus her efforts and parry a good majority of them.

The two of them continued like this for a while, with Oz teleporting a few meters to his right after a little while, and after some time had passed, Oz and Yuri had both tired themselves out noticeably. They could still stand, but both were panting, holding themselves as they looked at each other. Oz was the first to speak, recognising what was going on.

"Shall we...call this a draw?"

"We...should." Yuri agreed, a small smile on her face. "You...put up a good fight."

"Thank you! I really had to try if I was going to match you, Eagle." Oz slowly approached her, putting both of his guns away. "Do you...need healing?"

"...I would appreciate it."

He nodded, reaching her as he placed his hand on her shoulder, activating his healing spell as his hand glowed a bright green. Yuri closed her eyes, feeling her energy returning to her as Oz's magic coursed through her body. It felt as though a warm ray of sunlight was shining on her, and she smiled at the pleasant feeling. After a while, he moved away, and she nodded slowly, bowing her head.

"I'll...put in a good word to Svafrlami." she told him. "Please, keep getting stronger, Mr. Comic."

"Likewise!" Oz exclaimed, pumping his fist as he did his best to contain his excitement, with limited results. "I can't wait to cross blades with you again!"

He stepped back and took a bow. "Come on, Thor, let us be off!"

"As you wish." Thor nodded, approaching the einherjar and grabbing his arm, seemingly whisking him off in a flash of lightning as Yuri stared, dumbfounded.

"...did he just say..." she murmured, before shaking her head, deciding not to dwell on it. It could have just been someone named after the god, right?

Well, never mind that. She had a boss to make a report to. She took a deep breath and swallowed any apprehension she had, beginning to head off in the way she came.