Scene 1
"No!"
I watched as a wave of white and golden flames slammed into a Nature God, forcing her out of the sky in a spinning trail of burning green light. I stumbled backward behind my wall of water, only to feel it evaporating faster than my Water Laws could replace it. Steam screamed around me in violent bursts, turning the battlefield into a white haze of boiling mist, ash, and drifting soul-light.
Below us, the ruins of the elf village had become something worse than a battlefield.
The dying tree at its center no longer looked divine. Its trunk was split black and red with fire, its roots writhing through the blood-soaked earth like starving serpents. Every time those roots caught a body—mortal, beast, or even a weaker god dragged too low—they pulled it inward without hesitation. The tree was eating anything it could reach now, swallowing flesh and soul alike as if rage had overtaken whatever reason remained in it.
And at the center of all of it—
the Golden Skeleton.
White flames covered him so completely they looked like a second sun draped over a god's corpse. His true form vanished beneath those layered fires, obscured by radiance so pure it made my own water-born senses recoil. Even the air around him had changed. Heat and Death pressed outward together, stripping moisture from the world and leaving the ground cracked, hissing, and wrong.
I tightened my grip on my whip and lashed it outward, trying to redirect one of the white spears flying toward us.
The attempt failed instantly.
The whip caught fire the moment it touched the spear. White flame ran along its length so fast I had no choice but to let it go. A shield of orange fire rose in front of me a heartbeat later and blocked the spear before it could punch through my chest. I looked up and found one of the Fire Gods floating overhead in a monstrous half-divine body of molten flesh and horned flame.
"This god is throwing everything at us," he snarled. "Those three idiots must have angered Gaia."
I followed his gaze downward.
The tree devouring mortals.
The ogres and demons already dead in heaps.
The scorched remains of gods who had flown in thinking they could profit from the chaos.
The Golden Skeleton roaring silently at all of us.
"We need to retreat now," another god said from somewhere to my right. "Before the rest of us end up as living bonfires."
Turning, I saw numerous gods already falling from the sky around us. Some had lost limbs. Some were burning from the inside out. Others hung suspended in the air for a breath before dropping, their mouths stretched wide in silent screams for mercy. They looked less like gods and more like offerings thrown back at the heavens.
"I thought Tuv was only joking about torturing a godling," a Nature God spat, her eyes fixed on the ruined field below. "But I can sense his disgusting toy buried deep in the earth with Kort. So Kort is the only survivor out of those three fools."
Her gaze settled on the body of Ruv, still pinned against a stone pillar by a spear of white light. His divine heart had already been crushed. The flames covering his corpse had stopped moving. Even his second mouth hung slack.
"No," said another Nature God, barely glancing at the sister she had just watched die. "And they angered a Death God more in tune with Death than any being I've ever seen. Sucks to say it, but this No Gods Land is done for. His Death Laws are seeping into the ground and corrupting the Life Laws. Our mortals won't survive ten thousand years if we don't stop him."
The words struck harder than I wanted them to.
Because I could feel it too.
A fragment of his Death had latched onto the Water Laws I had used to form my wall. Not enough to consume me fully. Not yet. But enough that I had to divide my focus to keep that ember from growing larger. It clung to my Law like a hungry parasite, trying to eat through my understanding and turn my own foundation into fuel.
And the worst part?
I was already bordering Major God strength.
I had crossed distances in Law that most in this waste of a region would never even glimpse.
Yet here I was, barely holding the line against a Low Minor God standing in front of us like a living insult.
As if he were a direct mockery of the natural order even we had learned to respect.
At bare minimum, we all knew enough to hold our tongues in fear of Fate striking us down when the board shifted too far.
But this—
this felt beyond that.
Even the eyes pressing down from above felt like they were laughing at our fate. The auras of the three brothers at the top could be felt clashing openly through the layers of Heaven, Sea, and Underworld pressure bleeding into the region.
"Zeus is our only hope at this point," the Fire God said. "I can feel those Death Laws invading me from nothing but locking eyes with this beast. Poseidon will kill us if we step foot near his seas, and Hades is clearly already aware of such a Death God."
No one answered him.
Because he was saying aloud the horror all of us were trying not to name.
I made my choice then.
My life was worth more than being the last fool hovering here pretending bravery mattered.
So I cut my losses.
I reached inward and carved a section out of my own Grotto Heart, the pain flashing white across my vision as I tore away something I had spent ages building. I fused that severed section with my Water Laws at once, shaping it into a proto-avatar.
A disposable vessel.
A dying copy.
A final act of spite and survival.
The conflicting laws would leave behind a Heaven-shattering explosion. By the time it detonated, I would already be beyond the main blast radius. If the Death God survived, then at least I would know I had not gone quietly. If he didn't, then I would have bought myself one impossible path eastward and southward toward the sea.
Even if I knew I'd likely die on that journey anyway.
Better a desperate submission to Poseidon's rule than dying nameless in this cursed land.
I let the vessel take over my current form and transformed into thin strands of mist, shooting away from the battlefield so fast the burning air tore at my essence.
Behind me, I heard the Nature God catch on too late.
"This bit—"
Boom.
The explosion tore the sky apart.
I forced my mist-body back into shape as I fled toward the outer reaches of No Gods Land, moving as fast as I could through the wounded air. Even at this distance, the blast pressure rolled over me hard enough to nearly tear my unstable body apart.
I looked back once.
Only once.
And saw something worse than failure.
The clashing white and blue laws of the explosion were being swallowed by a ring of black flames. Each slow turn of that ring devoured more of the blast, grinding the conflicting forces down until nothing remained but fuel. I felt the once low-ranked Death God rise rapidly through the pressure, his aura stabilizing as he climbed into the High Rank.
My thoughts blanked.
"What the—"
Something struck me from above.
I slammed into the ground hard enough that my low-ranked Minor God body nearly shattered on impact. Rock burst beneath me. Pain shot through every layer of my being. Gasping, I lifted my head—
and saw them.
Several reapers stood guard in silence, watching both me and the distant skeleton. They did not look rushed. They did not look surprised. Their presence carried the same unbearable calm as an execution already recorded before the blade fell.
My blood ran cold.
"Wait, I can he—"
A pillar of darkness erupted from below me.
No warning.
No debate.
No appeal.
The Gates of the Underworld opened and swallowed me whole.
Scene 2
Juris POV
Nether Realms
"Yes, Aunt Hestia. My destined partner is the Queen of the Afterlife before the Ending."
I answered evenly, keeping my eyes on the throne Father had summoned for his sister. It was severe without ornament, built from dark law and old permanence rather than comfort. The Nether Realms around us remained quiet in the way only Underworld spaces could be—still not because they lacked life, but because too much weight existed here for noise to matter.
"This plan to have me take over ownership of the forgotten is a big plan, Jur."
I ignored the way she said my name.
If she was already calling me that, then Ten would almost certainly receive something worse later. Aunt Hestia had a habit of renaming family members into forms she preferred, and resistance only made her enjoy it more.
"Once Fate started making destructive decisions like bringing 666 or the Satans here," I said, "she signed her own death warrant to Zeus and Gaia. The Four Satans alone are more than enough of a concern. Their influence intermingling could force the Nether Realms to never fully develop."
I let the words settle before continuing.
"So your domain acting as glue to appease the spirits of the dead—and more importantly, the innocent who await their place in the Cycle—becomes necessary. This won't take effect for another three million years due to the Golden Cycle War beginning in one-point-five million. So if an alternative method is found by then, you won't have to do it."
Hestia stared at me in open silence.
Good.
Poseidon's advice for handling his sisters had been annoyingly useful. Assign them responsibilities. Treat them like the fence-sitters of the family they had allowed themselves to become. They needed pressure before they remembered they were one of us at all.
Like Hera did with Olympus.
"Hades Junior, do you have to think about everything so thoroughly?" Hestia muttered at last. "I swear, it's like meeting that idiot all over again."
I almost laughed.
Rumors had already spread of Father offering his sisters a place to retreat once they finally gave up on the mortal world. It amused me more than it should have that even his generosity sounded like condemnation when directed at family.
"I have to," I said. "My brother is better suited for the main throne. Apollo played a nasty trick, so we'll need to be ready for round two. Thankfully, this is expected. He's been ignoring Death Laws as best he could."
A useless effort.
I could already feel Ten's rage finally approaching its end through the bond we shared in our Sun.
"Fine," Hestia said with a sigh. "I'll help you, since you're the only nephew who asks nicely and with manners."
I bowed my head in thanks.
That was all I needed from her for now.
Father had never restricted her movements within my realms. He understood better than most that some family members could only be guided by giving them enough space to choose properly.
Leaving her to her own thoughts and whatever plans she was now too invested to abandon, I turned away.
It was time to do a routine check on my other half.
The one developing in the Netherworld we would never have to display openly to the world.
Scene 3
Hestia POV
"Hestia, why did you call for me from the Underwo—"
I raised one finger and pointed upward.
Demeter stopped speaking. Her eyes followed my gesture, and whatever she sensed there stripped the softness from her face immediately. Good. Words alone would have wasted time. Some truths had to be forced into view first.
Before she could react further, I stood and took her hand.
The world folded.
We reappeared in the home left to me by Father and by Hades—Mount Othrys, the only place I trusted for a conversation like this. The realm sat hidden behind the layered shelter of Death and Time, two of the strongest divinities for keeping the world from peering where it did not belong. The mountain air was cold, sharp, and still. Old stone halls opened around us like a memory refusing to rot. Nothing here felt temporary.
"It's pointless to play dumb, Demeter," I said. "We both know Persephone's heir is coming. What will it take for you to leave her be and not try to take her from the Underworld?"
Her smirk vanished.
Bloodlust poured off her so fast the air itself seemed to tense.
"Who are you to decide if I will have my bloodline or not?" she demanded. "Persephone wasn't Hades's to sacrifice, and neither do either of you have authority over my Fate!"
I sighed.
Hades had predicted this reaction almost word for word.
"Demeter, please. If you gave it half a thought, you'd realize Hades and Persephone made a decision the same way our parents once did. We both understand Hades better than the rest after he gave us shelter from Zeus's hostility."
She did not answer.
So I pressed harder.
"You saw what I saw when you met him with Mother. I doubt Mother ever explained the truth to you, but that doesn't matter anymore. Your relationship with the Underworld isn't part of this cycle."
The bloodlust around her sharpened.
"Persephone was born as a Natural God from the Underworld," I continued. "Bearing the title of Queen. A goddess of fertility has no claim over a Queen of the Underworld. Even less over her successor of the Afterlife."
The silence after that felt heavier than shouting ever could have.
Then I sensed Mother.
Her divine energy materialized off to the side, quiet and watchful as she stepped into the realm without interruption. She said nothing. She only observed us, which somehow made Demeter's fury feel even sharper.
Good.
Let her hear it in front of witnesses.
The age of pretending this would resolve itself had ended.