The sky above the battlefield had split into grids of red and black, each line pulsing like veins on some monstrous heart.
Mayan glyphs etched themselves across Morty's body, glowing in jagged streaks of crimson.
His voice wasn't his own anymore—it was layered, ancient, like a hundred priests screaming through his throat.
"BLOOD IS THE CONTRACT. SACRIFICE IS THE WAY!"
The ground convulsed.
Monoliths of obsidian erupted upward, forming a jagged throne beneath Morty as his body stretched, warped—his skin cracking to let light spill out.
He wasn't fourteen anymore. He wasn't even Morty anymore.
He was the FoundingMayan Tumbling Titan.
Kid Beth stood across the wreckage, Egyptian artifacts strapped to her arms and shoulders.
The gold glowed, the etched falcons and ankhs flaring alive as if Horus himself perched over her shoulders.
Her small chest heaved, her eyes furious but wet.
"You're not Morty," she spat, voice breaking but loud.
"You're just some dumb, ugly conglomeration of uglies!"
Morty's head tilted back, glyphs crawling across his cheeks like vines.
"MORTY… MORTY IS A BODY. SACRIFICE IS A BODY. THE TUMBLING NEEDS NO NAME."
The obsidian throne cracked further into the sky, chains of bone shooting out to snare the heavens.
Entire constellations bent as if yanked down by invisible hands.
Kid Beth grit her teeth, slamming her fists together.
The falcon wings of her Egyptian armor burst wide, golden light surging until she hovered against the pull of the collapsing stars.
"Then I'll save him! Or—I'll beat the Tumbling out of him, you creepy blood-fetish parasite!"
She dove first, a streak of gold against a storm of black-red.
Morty—no, the Tumbling—laughed with a thousand voices, lifting his hands.
Blood meteors rained down, tearing through reality itself.
Every impact split the ground into rivers of glowing sacrifice, veins pumping toward Morty's throne.
Beth blocked with her shield, Egyptian carvings glowing as she screamed, "You're not taking this round, Morty! Not while I'm here!"
The Tumbling has already reshaped the world—a shifting patchwork of mountains, deserts, oceans, and jungle biomes slamming into one another like tectonic plates on crack.
Sky split in obsidian-red veins, bleeding Mayan glyphs that hover and chant in dead languages.
The world had broken into a nightmare collage.
Mountains ripped out of the ground and jammed against swathes of jungle, deserts pressed like broken glass against oceans that folded in on themselves.
Above it all, the sky tore into veins of obsidian red, pulsing glyphs drifting across like dying constellations, chanting in dead Mayan tongues.
And Morty stood at the center of it.
Or something wearing him.
His body stretched wrong, ribs heaving outward like a drum beaten from inside, glyphs searing themselves into his skin in a spiral of blood and fire.
His voice cracked into a chorus, layered over itself until it sounded like a hundred throats screaming together.
"BETHHHH… SACRIFICE. EVERYTHING. FOR BLOOD!"
He slammed both hands into the earth.
The ground convulsed, glowing crimson, and jagged spikes of obsidian burst up around Beth, locking her in a cage of death.
Beth's lips curled into a smirk, sweat sliding down her cheek.
The Egyptian artifacts glowing along her chest and spine flared alive—ankhs, scarabs, sun-discs sparking with gold fire.
The Olympiash relics strapped to her wrists whined like engines coming online.
"Bring it on, blood-bucket."
Wings of molten hieroglyphs unfolded from her back, half flame, half searing gold script.
She blasted upward, tearing through the obsidian cage in a storm of sparks.
Morty leapt to meet her.
His body blurred into a dozen bloody afterimages, each holding a blade of sacrificial light.
Beth swung her arm, wings flaring, shields of ancient script—𓋹𓏏𓏤—each glyph intercepting a slash before shattering into dust.
Light and blood detonated in every direction, the jungle below obliterated, half of it disintegrating into ash.
Beth roared, gripping one of her Olympiash relics—a colossal hammer crowned in divine flame. She dove, both hands swinging.
"Eat this, Morty!"
The hammer slammed into the ground, and a wave of glyphs erupted outward.
The jungle floor twisted into a massive golden sarcophagus, slamming shut around Morty with the echo of a tomb sealing forever.
For one breathless second, it worked.
Then the sarcophagus screamed.
Blood jetted from its seams.
With a thunderous crack, it exploded into shards, spraying crimson mist.
Morty clawed his way out, eyes now twin pits of black, glyphs wrapping around his arms and neck like serpents.
He caught Beth mid-swing.
Fingers clamped her forearm, bones creaking under his grip.
She screamed.
Flames surged, trying to stitch her broken arm back together with divine fire.
Morty didn't care.
He smashed his forehead into hers, shockwaves blasting the air apart.
Beth reeled.
Then Morty kicked her.
Her body shot like a cannonball across the battlefield, smashing straight through a mountain.
Bone cracked.
She punched through the desert next—sand instantly vitrified into glass.
Then the ocean—split in half, walls of water folding over her like curtains before collapsing into steam.
She never stopped tumbling.
Mountain to desert to ocean to jungle, her body thrown helplessly through each biome like a ragdoll.
Blood sprayed from her lips, her artifacts sputtering, their glow dimming under the weight of Morty's overwhelming power.
She finally crashed into a barren plateau, dust exploding around her.
She lay curled in the dirt, chest heaving, arm twisted wrong, her breath shallow.
The golden light around her flickered, dying like a candle.
Her voice was a whisper, bitter and broken.
"Shit… I… I can't…"
Silence.
The battlefield held its breath.
And then—Rod's voice bled into her ear.
'Lil' Devil....'
Beth's chest rose and fell in stutters, blood streaking down her cheek.
The relics dug into her skin, silent now, their once-blazing power dim as embers dying in wet ash.
Her fist twitched, useless. Her eyes burned.
"I… I'm not… enough…"
Then—through the choking silence, through the crackle of red glyphs burning the sky apart—another voice cut through.
Rod's.
It wasn't shouted. It wasn't even loud.
It was in her ear, steady as a heartbeat.
"Oh, little devil… you think I raised you to stay down after one bloody tumble?"
Beth's fingers twitched harder.
Her lips trembled.
She turned her face toward the dust, eyes wide, as if she could see him standing right there.
Rod's tone sharpened, but carried that crooked grin she knew too well.
"My witch fox. You don't crawl. You'll bite. You'll tear. You'll burn.
So no matter how many times you get smacked into a mountain...."
She let out a broken laugh, half a sob. "Rod… I—"
"Don't you dare give me excuses," Rod snapped, and the world seemed to lean with his words.
"You've got the blood of Sanchez.
That little Morty meat puppet thinks he's fate?
Fuck fate. You're chaos herself.
Get the hell up and remind him who's whose little devil."
Beth's eyes flared.
The relics across her chest and arms began to hum again, louder, sharper, like beasts stirring.
Her cracked bones began to realign, golden light surging through them like rivers of fire.
She rose to her knees, head bowed, breath steaming like molten iron.
"…Little devil, huh?" she muttered, a wicked grin tugging across her battered face.
Glyphs burst across her skin in golden fire, wrapping her like armor, flowing together—ankhs, scarabs, sun-discs spinning and fusing.
The relics screamed in unison, their light overlapping until they birthed something new.
A blinding core ignited in her chest.
The God-Ankh Core.
The ground cracked beneath her feet as she rose, flames haloing her hair, eyes molten gold.
Her broken frame became whole again—not human, not god, but something in between, burning with impossible divinity.
Morty—still cloaked in Mayan blood glyphs—froze mid-charge. His voice fractured into static whispers.
"What… what is this…?"
Beth spat blood to the side, smirk flashing razor-sharp.
"This? This is me… this is my POWUHHH!"
And the battlefield trembled as her new form roared awake.
The air itself buckled as the relics fused.
One by one, their individual lights collapsed inward, threads of divine flame snaking into Beth's chest.
The scarab's emerald fire crawled along her arms, forming segmented gauntlets that clicked and shifted like living armor.
The sun-disc melted into her spine, unfolding into radiant golden wings made of light, each beat rippling heat across the broken battlefield.
The ankh etched itself over her heart, molten lines spiraling outward across her ribs, glowing like a core barely contained.
Her skin shone bronze, hieroglyphs searing themselves across her body only to fade beneath the light, like tattoos drawn by the gods themselves.
Her hair whipped back, burning brighter than Rod's rainbow wormholes, strands now streaked with gold fire that hissed as they snapped in the wind.
Then her eyes—once sharp and human—burst into pure molten gold, no iris, no pupil.
Only the eternal blaze of Ra staring through a girl's body.
Her chest expanded, every inhale releasing golden embers, every exhale rumbling like a temple collapsing.
The mountains shook, sand tore upward into a storm around her, the sky dimmed as if afraid of the new light born below.
Rod's whisper returned, calm, smug, but proud as hell.
"There she is… my little devil."
Beth raised her head slowly, eyes locked on Morty's Mayan-glyph form.
The God-Ankh Core pulsed once—BOOM—a shockwave so intense that the battlefield cratered, flattening the terrain in all directions.
Rivers turned to steam. Peaks shattered into rubble.
Her voice cut through the ringing silence, carrying both the mocking lilt of a teenager and the weight of a goddess.
"You wanted the Godseed, Morty? Congratulations… you're about to get it."
She stepped forward, wings flaring, reactor blazing like a second sun in her chest.
Every motion hummed with impossible divinity—each step birthing golden scarabs that crumbled into dust, each flick of her fingers warping the air with solar fire.
Even Morty—the blood-drunk vessel of Mayan sacrifice—hesitated, glyphs flickering as if they sensed something older, something greater, staring them down.
The battlefield wasn't just lit anymore.
Morty's form twitched, jagged Mayan glyphs searing brighter as the sacrificial artifact resisted Beth's divine glow.
His body was swollen with power, veins running molten red, every breath spilling blood-smoke from his mouth like an altar fire.
The kid inside him—the Morty everyone knew—was buried somewhere beneath the obsidian weight of the Mayan gods.
He bared his teeth, drool and blood mixing at his lips, and roared.
"YOU THINK YOUR LIGHT CAN ERASE BLOOD, BETH?! SACRIFICE IS ETERNAL!"
The glyphs spun violently around him, shaping into titanic obsidian blades dripping with liquid crimson.
The ground groaned, the air snapped.
Beth didn't flinch. Her reactor pulsed once in her chest—whump—and the golden wings flared.
She raised her hands slowly, palms glowing like miniature suns.
Her lips curled into that little smug smirk Rod always called the devil grin.
"Sacrifice, huh? Cute. Let's see if your gods like being burned alive."
And then—
They collided.
Morty lunged first, obsidian blade arcing down like a guillotine meant for the world itself.
It cut through air, through space, and tore into the battlefield—an entire mountain cleaved into nothing but smoke and rubble.
Beth met it head-on.
Her core flared, the scarab gauntlets catching the blade mid-swing.
A blinding pulse of gold exploded outward.
The ground beneath their feet liquefied, the air warped as if reality itself bent under the pressure.
For a moment, they were locked—blood-red glyphs pressing against burning hieroglyphs, obsidian against gold, Morty's scream against Beth's laughter.
Then Beth shifted her weight.
With a single twist of her wrist, she shattered the obsidian blade into shards.
Golden fire ate the fragments before they even touched the ground.
Morty stumbled back, glyphs scrambling to reform around him, but Beth didn't give him a chance.
Her wings beat once. BOOM.
She closed the distance in less than a blink, fist glowing like the surface of a newborn star.
"CLASH ONE!" she screamed—like it was a game, like this was her playground.
And she drove her fist straight into Morty's chest.
The impact cracked the sky. Shockwaves shredded the battlefield, sending tectonic plates tearing apart like paper.
Morty's body went flying, ripping through three mountains before finally skidding to a stop, blood spraying from his lips in an arc that painted the broken horizon.
Beth stood in the crater she made, chest reactor humming louder, brighter, her smile widening as Rod's whisper flickered through her head again.
"Atta girl."
Morty dragged himself out of the rubble, glyphs jittering, shuddering, screaming across his skin like living parasites.
Each breath rattled his lungs, but the artifact wouldn't let him fall.
No—it wanted more blood.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red across his cheek, and spat.
"You think… you think that's enough to stop me?!"
His voice fractured—half Morty, half something older, ancient, a thousand priests chanting through his throat.
The glyphs spun faster, pulling in the very ground, ripping chunks of stone and earth into orbit around him.
The red glow thickened into a storm.
Beth squinted, wings flaring wider, smirk curling sharper.
"Oh, this is new. C'mon then, blood boy. Round two."
Morty's eyes flashed solid crimson.
"THEN BLEED FOR ME!"
He charged.
The ground didn't just crack—it inverted, flipping entire landmasses as he moved, the glyphs opening jagged portals that spat out rivers of molten obsidian.
Morty's hands swelled into claws wrapped in sacrificial blades, each strike tearing a hole in the atmosphere.
Beth darted upward, reactor glowing like a mini-sun, but Morty was faster now—he tore through the air, claw catching her ankle mid-flight.
SLAM.
He ripped her down like a meteor, driving her into the earth so hard the crust peeled apart, a canyon ripping open for miles.
Beth coughed, reactor flickering under the crushing glyph-storm pressing against her chest. Morty loomed above, eyes wild, voice cracked.
"You don't get it, Beth! Your little toys—your shiny wings—none of it matters! BLOOD ALWAYS WINS!"
He raised both claws, obsidian dripping like tar, ready to carve her core out—
—but Beth grinned. Wide. Wicked.
"You talk too much."
Her wings snapped shut around her body like a cocoon.
Morty's claws came down—
BOOOOOOM.
The impact triggered a chain reaction, a golden shockwave detonating outward. Morty staggered, glyphs splintering as cracks of light burned through his artifact's projection.
The cocoon burst open—Beth shot upward like a rocket, reactor burning hotter, fists glowing. She rammed into Morty's gut, sending him sailing skyward, punching him through thunderclouds.
The world split in two colors again—red glyph storms crashing against golden hieroglyph fire—until both forces met above the shattered sky in a single, explosive collision.
Their impact birthed a new sun for a heartbeat, blinding everything in sight.
The new sun guttered out in seconds, leaving only smoke and sparks.
Both Beth and Morty dropped back into view, bodies dragging trails of gold and red through the air.
Morty's voice came out raw, guttural, layered in the thousand-voices of the artifact.
"You don't get it, Beth… I can't stop. The artifact won't let me."
His glyphs flared brighter, burning into his skin, blood leaking from his nose and ears.
The sacrifice wasn't a metaphor anymore—the artifact was carving him apart to fuel its rage.
Beth hovered opposite him, wings shredded, reactor flickering like a dying ember.
But her grin stayed razor-sharp, the kind of grin Rod himself would wear.
"Then I'll beat it out of you."
Morty roared—glyphs twisted into a massive sacrificial sigil that spread across the entire sky, swallowing stars, moons, the horizon itself.
The world dimmed under it.
From its center, he lunged, claw blazing, aiming to end her.
Beth didn't dodge.
She folded her wings in, reactor burning hotter and hotter until cracks spidered across her arms and chest, golden hieroglyphs crawling up her skin like living tattoos.
She whispered under her breath, almost calm:
"Devil Coating!"
BAM!
They collided.
The first punch—Beth's golden fist against Morty's claw—ripped the air into ribbons.
Mountains disintegrated.
The second—her core slamming into his chest—burned away the glyph storm in chunks, golden hieroglyphs devouring the red.
The third—Morty's claw slicing into her shoulder—tore through flesh, but Beth didn't flinch, didn't cry out.
She bit down on the pain, her core screaming louder.
Every strike that followed blurred into one cacophony, both of them landing blows that could've leveled cities.
Then Beth broke through.
Her wings snapped wide, core igniting into a halo inferno above her head.
She spun, carving Morty with a backhand, then shot her fist straight into the artifact's core at his chest.
"GET—THE FUCK—OUT—OF HIM!"
Golden light pierced the artifact.
Morty shrieked, the glyph storm unraveling into wild ribbons of blood-red energy that scattered across the sky like dying fireworks.
The impact blasted Morty back into the earth, carving a new crater where he fell.
Beth hovered above, panting, reactor dimming but still lit, wings trembling.
For a long moment, the battlefield was silent.
Then smoke rose from the crater, and Morty's voice cracked through—"…Beth…"
Beth staggered in the air, chest heaving, golden reactor sputtering with every ragged breath.
Below, Morty lay broken in the crater, glyphs flickering weakly across his body like dying embers. His claw twitched once, then fell limp.
"Beth…" His voice cracked, raw, caught between the boy she knew and the monster the artifact made him.
His bloodshot eyes locked on her glowing silhouette.
"Do it. Finish me. Don't… don't let this thing take me again."
The words cut sharper than any claw.
Beth floated down, landing beside him.
Her wings folded tight, reactor glowing like a final torch.
She knelt, fingers brushing Morty's battered face, tears carving hot trails down her cheeks.
"You stupid, stubborn, annoying little fuck," she whispered, voice shaking.
"I didn't come this far to kill you."
Morty's cracked lips curled into a faint, broken smile.
"Then… then you'll regret it. It'll come back. I'm already gone."
Beth raised her hand, golden energy surging, reactor screaming as it gathered for one last strike.
Her face twisted—grief, rage, love all tangled together.
The image of Rod flashed in her mind, then her own reflection in Morty's terrified eyes.
The sky roared with her core light as she lifted her arm—
"Beth."
The word cut through everything.
Her eyes widened. She froze mid-strike.
Rod stood there at the lip of the crater, calm, hands in his pockets, rainbow aura bleeding into the smoke like it belonged to another universe entirely.
"Don't."
Beth's arm trembled violently, reactor light sputtering.
"But—Rod—he asked me to! If I don't—"
Rod stepped closer, unshaken by the molten earth or the leaking glyphs.
He reached out and placed his hand on Beth's wrist, lowering it gently but firmly.
His smile wasn't mocking this time.
It was quiet, almost unbearably soft.
"You're not Mikasa. And he's not Eren. I said it's too early for you guys to watch that anime!"
Beth's breath hitched, reactor guttering down as if his words stripped the fire from it.
Tears spilled harder, her whole body trembling now—not from power, but from everything crashing down at once.
Rod pulled her close, resting her head against his chest, even as the core's glow dimmed around them.
He glanced down at Morty—half-dead, half-possessed, but alive.
"You kill him now, you lose him forever. Let me handle the rest."
Beth clutched Rod's shirt, sobbing, reactor finally burning out with a hiss, the halo breaking apart into gold sparks.
Morty stared weakly at them both, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as the last glyphs sputtered.
"…Rod…"
Rod's rainbow aura flared quietly, steady and unyielding.
"Rest easy, kid. My Beth doesn't have to stain her hands for this."
The battlefield fell silent.
The war between them stopped—not because Beth killed Morty, but because Rod refused to let her.
Beth collapsed against Rod, shoulders shaking, fists clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring her.
The battlefield—once thunderous with reactor light and glyph-fire—was quiet now, only the hiss of molten earth cooling under them.
"I was gonna do it…" Her voice cracked, muffled against his chest.
"I was actually gonna—Rod, I almost killed him. I was ready to."
Rod didn't say anything at first.
His hand rested on the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair.
She buried her face deeper into him, reactor sparks falling around them like golden snow.
"You didn't," he murmured.
"That's what matters."
Beth shook harder, tears hot against his shirt.
"But I—if you hadn't stopped me—I would've—"
Rod leaned down, his forehead pressing briefly against the crown of her head.
His voice stayed soft, but there was an edge of steel beneath it.
"That's why I'm here. You're my Lil Devil, remember?
You don't carry this kind of weight alone."
Beth let out a broken laugh, choked by sobs.
She clung to him tighter, core finally dying out with a fading hum until all that was left was her, small and shaking in her brother's arms.
Morty groaned from the crater, glyphs still glowing faintly on his skin.
His body twitched, lips mumbling incoherent words in a voice that wasn't entirely his.
The Mayan artifact pulsed, veins of crimson light crawling across his chest like living vines.
Rod sighed, still cradling Beth.
"Alright. Cry it out, firehead. Big brother's gotta clean up this mess."
Beth looked up at him, eyes red and wet.
"Y-you can fix it? Morty's—"
Rod gave her a grin, sharp but reassuring.
"Of course I can."
He set Beth gently aside, standing tall at the crater's edge.
His rainbow aura rippled outward, refracting light across the broken battlefield.
He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like thunder.
The artifact inside Morty thrashed in response, glyphs flaring crimson as if it sensed a predator.
Morty's back arched unnaturally, his voice splitting into two—one boy, one ancient hunger.
Rod dropped into the crater, landing with a quake.
He crouched beside Morty, tilting his head.
"You've had your fun, parasite. But playtime's over."
The glyphs flared again, trying to resist, veins glowing like molten rivers.
Morty's eyes snapped open—half his own, half a crimson void.
Rod's smile widened, almost too calm for what was happening.
"You picked the wrong Sanchez to hitch a ride on, little relic."
He placed his palm against Morty's chest, right over the artifact's glow.
His rainbow aura surged, colliding with the crimson energy in a violent hiss.
For a moment the ground split apart, the clash of forces threatening to tear the battlefield again.
Rod leaned in closer, voice low but clear.
"Get. Out."
- - - - - - - - - -
Do you get any of that?
Will Rod succeed in extracting the parasite!?
ANNOUNCEMENT!! DISCOUNTED PRICEEEE!!
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