Brother
Coming to the realization that his fellow Eternals obviously all failed to see a fact as simple as that higher goals oftentimes required difficult, sometimes painful decisions had been one thing.
Having to admit that even Ajak, their leader, their Prime Eternals and the woman he had always looked up to and whose words, knowledge and advice he had always trusted in, had seemingly softened and to admit the point that even those he had trusted the most among their rangs didn't want to see that he just wanted to protect them, that had been much more difficult.
Even heavier, however, was the burden of realization that Ikaris could only do one thing to protect them all and humanity as well, and thus fulfill the new task Arishem had assigned them, his new life mission, his new reason to be.
And despite that he had already waited a long time. Longer than might had been wise now that he thought about it once more. It had been at least a few days now. Days in which the Deviant who stole Druig's powers, and now abused them for himself, could do insane amounts of damage.
Ikaris had been patient though, ignoring the burning desire in his veins to do what they had always done whenever such a monster had emerged to threaten what stood under their protection. He had tried to respond to the wishes of the others, had tried to show them that he too could learn from his mistakes, even if it hadn't seemed that way in some situations. He had lost his cool, he had been insensitive, he knew that. It was unusual for him, he knew the others and what buttons he better shouldn't push. But it was always like that with anything that involved their mind-controller. Whenever Druig played a keyrole in anything, Ikaris lost his cool. It was incredible frustrating, really.
He'd endured Thena's bullying for weeks and months, her subtle but grueling little smacks that made him livid and where ment to provoke a violent reaction. Thena was to smart to be unaware of what she was doing, even if her mind got torn apart by Mhd Wy'ry she was able to strategically lead a war, be it one with weapons or a psychological one. He'd endured being cut by Makkari and Phastos, more of one and less of the other, and his teeth were always clenched hard whenever he had to watch Sersi, the woman he loved, and he still did, being in constant contact with this human she now preferred over him nowadays.
He had stayed behind on the farm with Ajak while the others went back to their new lives to pick up where they had left, to connect with the humans that had become so important to them, so equal to them in their eyes. Though they always got back together whenever a Deviant emerged, Ikaris was painful aware that it would never be like it had been before Tenochtitlan again, they had changed to much, their dynamics had changed. Fivehundret years where nothing in the endless lifespan of an Eternal and yet it had been enough to tear everything Ikaris had believed in apart.
But still, he had tried to be patient and find his place in this new way the others had chosen, to get past the betrayal he had made them feel.
He had even waited, giving Phastos time to track down their enemy on his own, to no avail.
The last straw that broke the camel's back for him, however, had been the situation in the old fire station.
Ikaris had fought and won against countless Deviants in his life, none had been a match for him. Not one opponent had been able to stand against him or any of the others. This monster, however, had not only managed to trick them all, no, it also possessed a power that was capable of making even him see stars.
The attack had been unexpected, maybe he had even been distracted by his dispute with Sprite a few minutes earlier, but still... he couldn't let this monster learn how to really use the power of mind control.
The beast was already far too clever, far too cunning and too powerful to be tolerated. In a way, it was just like the Eternal it had stolen that cursed ability from and from who it drew its powers now, using his body as a bridge to the life source of all their abilities and lifes, cosmic energy.
Ikaris had been waiting. He had given the others chances, more than one, but he also knew what he had to do now that the danger became more and more immediate.
Was it easy? He would worry about that later, when it was done.
So he waited patiently again.
After Ajak had healed the injuries and fractures in his face that the angry speedster had given him and left to speak to Phastos and find out if there was finally any news and if the inventor had found a track of their enemy, Ikaris had strayed near the infirmary, not even intentional at first but lead by a strong determination.
No one would be surprised if he didn't show up for a while. At most, Ajak or Sersi would look after him, but that would take time. Both had made it clear that he was walking on thin ice. Both couldn't understand his motivations anymore.
Ikaris felt no need to confront Makkari again either.
Aside from the fact that he was now prepared for her attacks and that he would be able to parry her punches, he couldn't really match her speed otherwise.
If she noticed him too soon then she would run and bring Thena or Gilgamesh or even Ajak in before he could do as much as blink. While he had hold himself quite well against Thena back during their fight on the day of the failed Emergence he was not delusional enough to believe that she couldn't have stopped him had be not taken his chance to follow the others and left her behind. And he was especially not stupid enough to believe that he would stand a true chance against the combined force of Thena and Gilgamesh.
Those two where a force and at the same time the where so in synchrony whenever they fought side by side that it seemed as if they where two pieces of one weapon, two halves of a whole.
He absolutely had to make sure not to alarm Makkari.
However, the fact that the walls of the Domo limited her sense of vibrations, like his breathing and heartbeat, came to his aid.
It was almost ironic how Phastos' attempts to make the Domo more Ikaris-proof worked in his favour now.
This way, he just had to wait in a nearby adjacent room where the Speedster kept part of her extensive collection of human knick-knacks. Including a whole bunch of scrolls and a dusty bust from ancient Greece, Athens to be precise, meant to represent the goddess Athena.
Sprite was right about those, he thought while his eyes traveled over the the artistically shaped stone, humans actually never managed to render Thena's image correctly. The nose was to long, the chin to pointy and she hadn't worn her hair in curls since their time in the ancient city of Uruk. That had been one of the first of the human settlements they had protected, he remembered. It had been even before Babylon.
His train of thoughts got interrupted while he was just rummaging through a corner of artifacts from old asian cultures to pass the time, by the faint sound of the infirmary door opening.
He didn't know how long he had lingered here examining the various curiosities, but it must have been a long time if Makkari had finally decited to leave Druig's side. Either because she couldn't take it anymore and had to run or because other important things were pulling her away. He couldn't tell and he didn't have time or enough interest to wonder about it.
He silently put an ancient Chinese fan, that was painted with ornate cherry trees, back in its place and waited a few heartbeats to make sure that she wouldn't come back to soon.
No one could say how quickly she would finish what she had planned, but anyone who knew Makkari knew that it was better not to waste any time and so he hurried to cross the hallway and slipped unrecognized into the room she had just left.
As soon as the iron doors, also specially reinforced by Phastos against the Eternals' powers, closed behind him, something like a deep sense of calm came over him. His decision had been made. There was no turning back now anymore anyway.
Druig was still in the same position as when he had last seen him.
The light that flowed into and through the room from seemingly invisible sources made his already fair skin appear even paler than usual. He looked almost ashen and when Ikaris stepped closer, closer than he had done before in all those days, he recognized the gray veins that slowly but surely meandered up under the collar of his shirt towards his throat. He seemed almost emaciated, which, considering the situation, probably made sense.
Ikaris pushed the burgeoning memory of the sight Ajak and Gilgamesh had offered far away and nipped it in the bud. He didn't have time for such thoughts that probably still provoked feelings. He had a mission to fulfill and even if he was somewhat sorry and had intended to do everything in his power to avoid getting into such a situation again, he couldn't change the facts.
That there was a danger to the humans, the Eternals and their mission and that the simplest way to solve that problem lay right before him.
He studied Druig's face, aware and alert for the first time since perhaps Tenochtitlan, probably because this time there was no intense blue gaze reflecting his own and following his every movement in turn.
Although the mind controller had his eyes closed, he didn't seem relaxed at all. Even if he had looked physically healthy, less feeble and sallow, his expression was not that of a sleeper, and if it was, it was the expression of someone suffering from anything but pleasant dreams.
Ikaris took a step back and concentrated.
His ability to kill with a single glance relied on channeling the cosmic energy flowing through his body behind his eyes, in its purest form, before unleashing it on his opponents as an almost unbeatable weapon.
Someone who was defenseless, unaware of the danger, didn't stand a chance, Eternal or Deviant.
Alongside Kingo and Thena he wielded one of the deadliest powers Arishem had endowed them with and he knew it all to well.
He had to end this now and he was aware of it. It was the best chance, quite possibly his only chance. No more Deviant to mind control on anyone, no threat to him, the people they now had a mission to protect, or his family. It was simple, it was the right thing to do.
Yet...
Ikaris' fingers clenched slightly. It felt as if his powers, something in his mind, was trying to work against him and hadn't he known better he would have placed his bets on Druig manipulating him immediately.
That had never happened before and he couldn't use it in the slightest. Whatever weakness gripped his body and mind, he couldn't let it stop him, not now. He was more than aware of the impending danger that Makkari could be back at any moment, any of the others could and none of them would like what they would find or let him do what he had to do because they didn't understand, because they didn't want to understand that he was doing what he did for the greater good, for the mission, for them.
He was a soldier and as such he had to make tough decisions, it wasn't the first time, he thought as his eyes began to glow with a golden light, his powers finally crossing every border of reluctance and obeying him unconditionally again. He had always known, five hundred years ago already.
Druig was nothing but trouble.
He should have already done it in Tenochtitlan.
And it was even so much easier now.
It would be so easy.
The light was now obscuring his vision, this was usually the best moment to unleash his shot of deadly cosmic energy at his opponent. He fixated his gaze on the other Eternal's chest. No protective armor this time. No distance or Celestial power to protect him from a direct hit.
He'd done it before, this time it had to be final.
He knew exactly how to ensure that.
But still... all of a sudden, a memory from the day of emergence shot through his head and he saw Sersi's beautiful dark eyes before him as she had looked at him there, on Tiamut's skull. Betrayal and so so much sadness in that gaze that had always seen the beauty and the good things in every imperfect thing.
Ikaris could have killed her at that moment. He should have done it without hesitation to assure the mission would succeed. As he had done with Ajak. As he had allowed to happen to Gilgamesh, and as he had believed to have done with Duig. What would another death have done if it had meant the success of his lifelong mission?
Another dead Eternal that Arishem could have brought back, just one more time. That would have been easy too, so incredibly easy for someone with his powers.
And despite all those cold facts, Ikaris couldn't bring himself to do it. Not Sersi.
His mother figure, his brothers, his sisters too.
But not Sersi.
Not Sersi.
Dark eyes suddenly changed in his head, became brown, then turned blue and blown wide in shock, only the expression of betrayal remained and suddenly Sersi's face overlapped with Ajak's, then with Druig's.
The sting behind his eyes became unbearable, Ikaris jerked his head up with a shouted exclamation of frustration, backtracking from his plan in what really was the last possible moment.
The laser beam that he couldn't stop anymore drilled into the wall on the other side of the room and, despite Phastos' protection against such attacks, left a simmering black hole in the high-tech wall of the room.
Ikaris let out a growl of frustration and slammed his fist onto the edge of the treatment table in anger at his own incompetence.
He sank to the ground, his back against the platform, and ran a hand through his hair.
When had he become so weak?
And especially towards Druig!
Sure, he had once considered him his brother, maybe he still did, but that had never stopped him from doing what was best for the mission.
Another thought crossed his mind, one he wished he could have dismissed immediately, but it was too late to shove it away. The unpleasant notion had already burrowed to deep into his brain and was now taking root there, spreading an ugly self doubt in him.
Maybe, he thought, maybe that's why Sersi hadn't given him another chance. And perhaps his anger at the failed mission was aimed at his own inability to adapt. Maybe that's why it all went down the drain after Tenochtitlan.
And if he allowed this thought, which had been nagging at his brain for quite a while, even though he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself and didn't want to admit it now, then he had to admit that it hadn't been Druig's fault that everything had broken apart back then.
And that wasn't the case now either.
It had never been Druig's fault that his life had turned meaningless five centuries ago. Not his brother's fault that Sersi, the woman he loved, hadn't been enough and had given up hope after he had dropped her. Not his fault that Ikaris hadn't been able to find a new thing to do with himself, find a thing he loved like Kingo or build a family for himself like Phastos or even went to live in peace with the one he loved like Gilgamesh and Thena had done.
It wasn't Druig's fault that all of that had been denied to him.
It was Ikaris' own.
And not only had he denied himself this new chance to be something more than a soldier following his creators every whim, he had also projected so much of his anger and rage at his brother that it had left a feeling of bitterness between them that would likely never go away again.
He was the fighter, Druig was a thinker and while both types of Eternals where needed to make them as efficient as they where, to keep their group running and assure their mission wouldn't end in failure, it was very clear which one of them was stronger.
Physically stronger that was. Ikaris was not an idiot. After their run in with that power stealing Deviant, Ikaris knew not to underestimate the mind-controller's powers again.
Just because he had never used it on him didn't mean that he was unable to fry his brain. That had been a very surprising and a very sobering discovery.
Yet, as a fighter it should have been his job to protect his brother. Not to hurt him.
He should have never hurt any of them.
His little journey of self-discovery - or existential crisis - however, was suddenly interrupted by the hissing sound of the doors opening.
Ikaris didn't even get a chance to react or think about how compromising the whole situation looked for him.
Before he could even lift his head to see who had entered the infirmary, he was thrown violently across the room and landed with a crash against the wall. His head slammed against the Domo's metal paneling and then the ground, and a searing pain shot through his skull and down his spine. He had felt worse before, but it took a moment to be able to see clearly again.
He really shouldn't have allowed feeling to come up and make him let his guard down.