(3rd Person POV)
Late November 1276 arrived quietly, but Horn Kingdom's entertainment landscape exploded overnight.
John Wick teasers had begun appearing across every screen in the kingdom. Billboards showed a man in a black suit, face half-shadowed, gun raised. Television spots revealed fragments: a stolen car, a killed puppy, then transformation—violence delivered with surgical precision.
The hook was simple. A retired assassin forced back into his old life for revenge. The execution, however, promised something audiences had never seen before.
Arthur's clone had orchestrated the marketing campaign with calculated precision. Each teaser revealed just enough to intrigue without spoiling. The trailers showcased brutal choreography that made martial arts enthusiasts replay clips frame by frame, dissecting techniques and speculating about fight coordinators.
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
Within days, a dedicated John Wick forum appeared on Hellbook. The discussion thread grew exponentially, comments flooding in by the hundreds.
"Hellfire's going to dominate December," one user posted. "Mark my words—this breaks box office records. Hundreds of millions, easy."
The sentiment spread quickly. Hellfire Studios had built a reputation for disrupting the industry with every release. Why would this be different?
But not everyone shared the enthusiasm.
"I want to believe the hype," a comment appeared, the user's profile picture showing Clint Foster's face. "But something feels wrong. Why isn't Clint the lead? After Han Solo and Blondie, he's the biggest action star we have. Instead, he's playing some spoiled brat villain named Iosef? That doesn't make sense."
The doubt resonated. Within hours, similar concerns multiplied throughout the thread.
"Exactly! Who even is this Keanu Reeves guy?" another user wrote. "He looks too... ordinary? Too soft for a legendary assassin."
"He's human, from what I heard," someone added. "Any demon on the street looks more intimidating. My neighbor's a wolf-demon mail carrier who'd be more convincing than this guy."
The mockery built momentum. Dozens of users liked the dismissive comments, sharing them across their own networks.
"Clint carried Star Wars and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," another comment read. "Now Hellfire's sidelining him for an unknown? Bad move. This film's going to flop."
Buried near the bottom of the thread, one comment went almost entirely unnoticed:
"Maybe we should watch the film before judging?"
No likes. No replies. The discussion continued around it as if it had never been posted.
---
Keanu sat in his apartment, staring at the computer screen with growing irritation. His spacious living room felt suddenly confining as he scrolled through comment after comment dismissing his abilities, questioning his casting, comparing him unfavorably to Clint Foster.
His jaw tightened. A faint shimmer of energy rippled through the room—barely visible, but unmistakably divine in nature.
"I never thought I'd see the day when the God of War gets upset over internet comments."
The voice came from the bathroom doorway. Kaiser emerged wearing only a towel, steam still clinging to his green hair, his expression amused.
Keanu's eyes narrowed. "I'm not upset."
"Right. That's why you're accidentally leaking divine power." Kaiser crossed to the sofa and dropped onto it with obvious satisfaction. "Very convincing."
"These comments mean nothing to me," Keanu said flatly. "After the premiere, these same people will be begging to see me in another film."
"Sure, sure." Kaiser grabbed the remote and clicked on the television. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Keanu turned in his chair. "Why are you even here? And what's the point of taking a hot bath? You're a god. You don't need—"
"Sometimes it's good to feel mortal." Kaiser's expression softened unexpectedly. "Turn off the godhood for a while. Just exist in the moment. You'd be surprised what you can enjoy—hot water, actual food, trashy television." He gestured at the screen where a Batman episode was loading. "Simple pleasures."
Keanu stared at him like he'd lost his mind. 'Turn off divinity voluntarily? That's like blinding yourself on purpose. Why would anyone choose that?'
"Get me some popcorn," Kaiser said, already absorbed in the opening credits. "Arthur's friend made this show, right? Pretty entertaining stuff."
"You could manifest popcorn instantly—"
"You're killing my immersion."
The doorbell rang.
Kaiser's eyes lit up with genuine curiosity. He rose from the sofa, moving toward the entrance with surprising enthusiasm. "Someone's here."
"It's—" Keanu started.
"Don't tell me!" Kaiser held up a hand. "I want to guess."
He opened the door.
Arthur stood in the hallway, hands in his pockets, expression relaxed and unguarded.
"Arthur!" Kaiser's face brightened immediately. "You're back. And I can tell—you're not a clone this time."
Arthur nodded and stepped inside, his movements carrying none of the supernatural grace that usually marked his presence. He seemed deliberately looser, more casual—like he was consciously choosing to simply inhabit his body rather than transcend it.
His gaze found Keanu almost immediately. "Keanu. Our future superstar."
The warmth in Arthur's smile was genuine, but something about it made both gods pause.
Keanu's brows drew together. "Arthur... I heard you traveled beyond this world. Somewhere in space?"
That wasn't what truly bothered him, though. The real issue was subtler, harder to articulate.
Kaiser felt it too.
Arthur had suppressed his divinity completely—just like Kaiser had been doing. The shift was imperceptible to mortals, but to two former gods, it was unmistakable.
Although Arthur had always concealed his divine power expertly—using techniques that made him appear mortal to even the most perceptive observers—this felt entirely different. Before, there had been a sense of something hidden beneath the surface, a vast ocean concealed behind a dam. Now, that feeling was simply... absent. Yet neither Keanu nor Kaiser could articulate exactly what had changed.
"We traveled through space, yes," Arthur said, unable to suppress his grin. "Found a remarkable world out there. Truly fascinating."
Keanu and Kaiser exchanged glances.
"Something happened during that journey," Kaiser observed carefully. "You seem different since returning."
"You can tell?" Arthur's smile remained, but curiosity flickered in his eyes.
"Of course it's obvious." Kaiser gestured vaguely. "You feel... I don't know how to describe it. Like you've returned as a different person somehow."
"Really?" Genuine surprise crossed Arthur's features. "I don't think I've changed that much."
Both former gods gave him identical looks of disbelief.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Anyway, enough about me. I came here for you, Keanu." His tone shifted to business. "In a few days, your first film releases to the world. I wanted to see how you're holding up."
"As you can see, I'm doing perfectly—"
"Yeah, he was reading internet comments about himself," Kaiser interjected with barely contained amusement. "Got so angry he started leaking divine energy!"
"I did not!" Keanu grabbed Kaiser by the collar, his face flushing. "I was not angry!"
"Sure. That's why you're currently strangling me."
"I'm not strangling you!"
Arthur couldn't suppress his smile as he watched them bicker. Something about this moment felt good—natural. It reminded him of simpler times, of the Arthur from a few years ago who just wanted to make films with friends. Despite their divine origins, these two had become genuine companions.
"Well, it seems you two are getting along," Arthur said warmly.
"Me? Getting along with him?" Keanu released Kaiser and stepped back like an offended child. "Hmph. I still don't trust anyone who betrayed Aides."
"For the hundredth time, it was part of Aides' own plan," Kaiser sighed with exaggerated patience.
Arthur eased back on the sofa, the flicker of a Batman episode reflecting in his eyes. "Try not to stress over the comments, Keanu. Your acting will speak for itself soon."
"Acting?" Kaiser barely held back a laugh. "Can you even call what he did 'acting'? He performed everything for real! He actually destroyed that criminal organization during filming!"
"Hey! That was all part of the movie!" Keanu's face reddened again.
"Right, right." Kaiser's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Very method."
"That organization brought it upon themselves," Arthur said quietly. "They made their choice."
Both former gods turned at his words. For just a moment, something cold and dangerous flickered across Arthur's expression—a glimpse of the calculating deity they both knew.
Then it vanished, replaced by his earlier warmth so quickly they might have imagined it.
"Speaking of your movie, Keanu..." Arthur paused, letting the silence build. "You won't just be entertaining mortals. The angels will be watching too."
The words hung in the air like a detonation.
Both gods froze, their expressions shifting from confusion to shocked comprehension.
"You—you mean..." Keanu stammered.
"I've already arranged distribution for John Wick in Altair Station," Arthur said casually, as if announcing something mundane. "The angels will see your performance."
Keanu's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Kaiser had gone completely still, his usual sardonic expression replaced by genuine astonishment.
They had already known—through Scarlet—that Hellfire's works would eventually reach Altair Station, the radiant realm of angels.
But this soon?
And with a film as brutally mortal as John Wick?
Even for them, the thought was staggering.
The implications crashed over them like a wave. John Wick—a film about violence, revenge, and the underworld—would be screened in the angels' celestial haven.