While Loki was immersed in his malicious and mad plans, the wills of the two God-Kings briefly merged in the void at a level beyond mortal sight.
Narcissus's consciousness was like a calm, deep pool, clearly reflecting Loki's twisted intentions and the great crisis they contained.
His 'gaze' pierced through space and stopped on the one-eyed God-King deep within the Golden Palace of Ásgarðr.
[For the sake of an ethereal 'hope after destruction', are you simply going to sit idly by, or even... acquiesce to all of this? Let your brother impose the most unbearable shame upon you, and let your queen become a tool for birthing the 'key'?]
There was no mockery in the thought; it was more of a pure lack of understanding.
In Hades's view, order, control, and dignity were the cornerstones of power.
Paying such a painful and humiliating price for an uncertain future was almost irrational.
On the throne of the Golden Palace, Odin received the thought from 'Narcissus'.
His face, full of wrinkles and vicissitudes, showed no change in mood, as if covered by the ice and snow that never melt in the north.
He did not deny it, did not show anger, nor the slightest sign of resentment.
His silence was like a heavy sigh, echoing in the void, almost equivalent to consent.
He saw Loki's plan, the shame against him and Frigg.
But his eye of wisdom, which he had exchanged for sacrifice and penance, saw a further picture—the all-consuming flames of Ragnarök and... a glimmer of light that might remain after the flames.
The birth and death of Baldr were the key mechanisms, and to push the heavy and cruel wheel of fate, he seemed prepared to become a cog in it himself, a part of the sacrifice.
Narcissus (Hades) sensed Odin's almost tragic acquiescence.
He said nothing more.
[I do not understand, but I respect your choice.]
For him, Odin's choice was a 'sacrifice' difficult to emulate.
He would not do it, and would never allow himself to be in a situation where he needed to make such a choice.
His path was to control, to bear, and to transcend, not to passively integrate into or even facilitate a tragedy destined for destruction.
The two God-Kings looked at each other across the void.
And what of Loki and Hermes?
In the eyes of the two God-Kings, their schemes and actions might merely be 'actors' performing according to their scripts on this great tragic stage.
Only, Loki was one of the 'protagonists', immersed in it and experiencing personal grievance.
Hermes, on the other hand, was more like a 'foreign spoiler' who had infiltrated this room and was trying to profit from it.
Odin did not know the roots of the foreigner Hermes, only seeing him as a young Vanir god, hostile to the Æsir and cunning in his methods.
An ignorant but dangerous child, intent on causing trouble—nothing more.
And as for Loki?
Odin knew his brother well.
He knew Loki's resentment, knew his cunning, and knew his uncontrollable desire for destruction.
He acquiesced to Loki's actions, perhaps because he was the most suitable and unpredictable force to turn the gears of fate in the 'right' direction—even if it would strike himself, the God-King.
On the other side, in Vanaheimr, the night was deepening.
On that starless night, the martial arts arena of Vanaheimr was shrouded in deep darkness, only the distant flicker of the temple faintly flowing behind the clouds.
Ares and Týr had not returned to their dwellings, but remained in this open space where they had clashed in the daylight.
A bonfire lit in the center became the only source of light, its pulsating flames casting light and dark shadows on Týr's resolute face, reflecting Ares's eyes, which now burned not just with war, but with some new feeling.
They had talked for a long time.
It was no longer one-sided teaching, but a true communication.
Ares spoke of his almost instinctive, yet never understood, desire for war.
Týr listened silently, occasionally nodding, sharing the weight of upholding justice and oaths in Ásgarðr, and the lonely realization that 'the god of war never wins'.
The bonfire crackled, as if responding to the voices they showed to no one.
I don't know who moved first, but the distance silently shortened.
When Ares reached out, not in an attacking gesture, but with an almost clumsy tentativeness, touching Týr's empty sleeve and sturdy arm, Týr did not retreat.
A complex flicker of emotion appeared in his eyes—vigilance, surprise, and finally transforming into a deep acceptance.
Language seemed redundant at that moment, and their powerful strength was no longer used for confrontation, but with cautious restraint, they explored the scars and power contained within each other's divine bodies.
The firelight cast two intertwined figures onto the frozen ground—war and justice, destruction and protection, finding an unexpected, intense, and profound intersection in the dark night.
At dawn the next day, the Valkyries who came for morning training acutely sensed the anomaly.
There was a divine power in the air that was not purely combative, but a more personal atmosphere.
Brynhildr frowned, exchanging glances with her sisters, whispers spreading among them—"They... last night, it seemed to be more than just talking."
And when Ares reappeared before the gods after three days and three nights of disappearance with Týr, all whispers turned into stunned silence.
Ares, the enraged war god, now naturally rested his hand on Týr's shoulder.
And Týr, the god of justice who was always serious and solitary, although still expressionless, did not reject this excessive closeness, and even his body leaned slightly towards Ares.
They walked shoulder to shoulder, their steps showing a silent understanding, their intimacy completely different from the former tense atmosphere.
It seemed that over these three days, a bridge had been built between them, one that outsiders could not understand, and it was so solid it was incredible.
The Valkyries were stunned, unsure what to say for a while.
Athena was not surprised by this; she had long expected that this day would come...
Now she only hoped that Atlas's fist would be precise, but not break the foundation of Hades...
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