Battle Fit for a God

Date: 4:04 p.m., July 13th, 2014
Location: Original Universe Copy #17, Milky Way Galaxy, 1 Million KM from Earth

Silence. Complete...silence.

He opened his eyes, and he was there.

 photo source:  pixabay

photo source: pixabay

He stood in the bridge of the Cathedral, the flagship of his armada and the largest known interstellar warship in the galaxy. He clasped his hands behind his back and concentrated.

Crew members started to appear, suddenly brought into temporary existence from a wave of his will. They were sitting at their stations, having not been animated yet, as he was still in the process of creation. Their faces and figures weren't important. He didn't recognize any of the people, though he knew he must have seen them on a bus one day, or they had walked by him once in high school. It didn't matter—he wouldn't even learn their names. They were simply living copies, created for the sole purpose of his entertainment. He ran another Code, and the Cathedral was filled with staff. Pilots, engineers, mechanics, scientists, soldiers. He didn't have the time or the patience to create them one by one, as they would all be gone in a matter of hours.

He looked out past the large window at the front of the bridge. Enemy spacecraft began to appear, brought into existence at the very moment he perceived them. He created a bigger one in the center, the enemy's flagship. He made it large enough to rival his own flagship.

His Cathedral was a dull gold colour. The four massive engines at the back were cylindrical in shape, but adorned with sleek wings that extended to the right and left. The front of the ship was a massive pointed hull that had been reinforced with the strongest material in the known universe, as well as some Code.

The enemy ship was a stranger design, curved and menacing. Its hull was a midnight black, and if it wasn't for the crimson lights that snaked their way across its exterior, it would have appeared as a large black silhouette of empty space along the backdrop of endless stars.

He then created frigates, smaller warships, and squadron after squadron of smaller single pilot fightercraft for both sides, until opposing ships filled a 300 kilometre radius around him.

He then began populating the enemy ships using the same Code he used to populate his own ships. The thing about the Code was that it used anyone unless he made an exception. So for all he knew, a living copy of his own mother was the commander of the enemy flagship. However, it didn't matter. His real mother was back on the real Earth living her normal life in the safe confines of a reality he scarcely touched.

Then again, if he could do all of this in a matter of moments, what was reality to him?

He took a breath, and the scene erupted.

Crew members began shouting.

"Enemy far left frigate has been destroyed!"

"Second class enemy battleship is breaking through our front line!"

He grinned slightly and began barking his own orders.

"Bring our strike squadrons together on the right side, execute attack pattern delta on that battleship, aim for the engine core and bring it down!"

He looked to the crew member in charge of the 3D battle overlay.

"Status on the enemy flagship?"

The crew member turned and addressed her commander.

"Nothing yet, sir. Their shields are holding steady—wait! I'm detecting a large power flux! They seem to be charging something!" She hit a button and a large display of the enemy flagship came up on the main screen.

Ports on the underside of the enemy flagship opened, and something unfolded. Two massive cannons appeared as they extended underneath the ship and locked into place. He swore he could hear a reverberating hum as the cannons began to power up, the maroon-coloured energy pooling into the main firing tubes as a crew member shouted that the enemy flagship had locked on to the Cathedral.

"Inferno cannons detected. We won't survive a blast from those, sir!" an analyst reported.

He nodded—he knew perfectly well they wouldn't. He came up with the cannons himself.

"Lock all missiles and gun turrets on to the enemy flagship! They can't fire their cannons if their shields are still up. Bombard it with everything we've got! Don't give them a chance to fire!" he yelled, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

He heard the mechanical whirring of the great ship as everything locked on, and then fired all at once. A hailstorm of laser fire and ship-to-ship missiles obliterated anything between the Cathedral and the enemy flagship. Bright explosions filled the sky as missile after missile collided with the enemy's shields. He knew that the second they lowered their shields to fire, they would be immediately destroyed in the relentless onslaught of weaponry.

"Sir! All enemy frigates have targeted the Cathedral! They have all just fired missiles at our main turret and firing bays!"

He crossed his arms. "Our probability altering shields should hold. Brace for impact," he said calmly. The probability altering shields worked on lowering the probability of successful damage to zero per cent. While not physically possible by any means, none of this was.

He stumbled when the missiles collided with the Cathedral, but he steadied himself and looked to a crew member.

He slammed a fist against the console.

"Were our shields even up?!"

"Yes sir! Our shields are at 98 per cent! We believe they used anti-probability missiles! They completely bypassed our defences! Our missile bays and gun turrets have been destroyed!"

"Anti-probability missiles? Those clever bastards..." he said, growling. "Send my previous order to the rest of the fleet! Keep that flagship from firing! Do not relent!"

"What of us, sir?" a crew member asked.

"Divert all power to charging the NOVA Beam, we are going to hit them before they hit us."

"Th-the NOVA, sir? You really want to use that here? At this close range?" a crew member stammered.

"Yes! You heard me! Get to it! I want it charged five minutes ago!" he yelled.

He was grinning on the inside. This is what it was all about, those moments of adrenaline and excitement. The greatest space battle in the entire history of the galaxy was at its peak, and no lives would be lost before, during, or after.

The countdown to the NOVA being fully charged slowly ticked down on a side panel. The rest of his fleet was being picked off one by one as the enemy began to catch on to their plan. The sight of the enemy flagship, the two glowing red cannons like the eyes of some menacing beast ready to devour its prey, sent shivers down his spine.

They had to disable the shields to charge the NOVA, but even without its shields, the Cathedral's armour plating withstood the enemy barrage. However, the rumble and explosions got louder and more dire as time went on.

"Charge is at 95 per cent, sir!"

He nodded. "Prepare the NOVA! Open the firing bay! Lock on to the enemy flagship!"

The front of the Cathedral opened and began to unfold. The long firing tube of the NOVA locked into its firing position.

"Enemy has brought down their shields! They are going to fire their Inferno cannons!"

He clenched his fists. "Status of the NOVA?" he yelled.

"99 per cent!"

"Prepare to fire the second it hits 100 per cent! Everyone brace yourselves, this is going to get messy," he said, smirking as time seemed to stop.

His eyes widened as the Inferno cannons let loose a crimson flash, and two beams of energy rocketed towards the Cathedral.

At the same moment, the crackling blue beam of the NOVA blasted from the front of the Cathedral. Unfortunately for the enemy, the beam from the NOVA engulfed the blasts from the Inferno cannons, and skewered the enemy flagship. The sheer power of the NOVA, and the shockwave that followed, ripped through the enemy fleet, shutting down or destroying anything smaller than a frigate due to the spike in energy. This included his own forces that had been in front of the Cathedral at the time of the shot.

The enemy flagship had been completely vaporized, as well as any ships that had been nearby. There was a resounding cheer from the crew members and he closed his eyes again.

 photo source:  pixabay

photo source: pixabay

When he opened them he was home, in a penthouse in one of the tallest buildings in the world.

He chuckled.

Everything he had just seen and done was gone. He had created a universe solely for the purpose of that space battle. The ships, the crew, the debris, even the universe itself was gone. He was now in the first universe. The one he was born in, the one he called "reality."

He walked over to the large window and looked down into the city. It was 7:03 p.m. on July 13th, 2014. It was raining. He liked rain.

"A battle worthy of the gods..." he said to himself.

He was correct. It was a battle fitting for the gods, and rather convenient, too, since he was one.


JohnBio.png

John Cutland

A 22-year-old college student with a passion for nerdy things, John is currently attending Algonquin College for Professional Writing and dreams of one day being a novelist. He enjoys reading, writing, playing video games, and LARPing. He also occasionally streams his shenanigans on his Twitch channel.

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