r/RecordOfOurRagnarok

For fanfic writers I was wondering your experience when it came to writing your first round.

What do you all think makes a good 1st round?

What struggles did you go through when deciding who was going to fight in the first round?

What type of themes did you think of when writing your round one?

Also just in a since I was curious what also in your opinion makes a round good?

[THE BATTLE THAT GAVE BIRTH TO THE UNSTOPPABLE HUMAN!]

The history of Egypt spans thousands of years - one of the most ancient civilizations on the planet, a cradle of wisdom and might, the equal of which humanity has never known. Over this unimaginably long period, one pharaoh stands out, whose name became a symbol of unwavering greatness. Coming to power at the age of twenty-four, he ruled alone for sixty-seven years and died at ninety-one, leaving behind a country that had pushed the boundaries of the possible. Under him, temples were built that reached the heavens, the state expanded, and he himself was revered as a god.

And in this history, there is one event that, even after millennia, thrills everyone who hears of it.

The sultry haze shimmered over the sands of Canaan. The army of Egypt, divided into four corps named after the gods - Amun, Ra, Ptah, and Set - was inexorably approaching the city of Kadesh. Pharaoh Ramesses the Second, young and full of ambition, led his warriors, and the fire of impending triumph burned in his eyes.

The army halted. Two deserters were brought before the pharaoh - Bedouins who claimed that the Hittites were far to the north, that their forces dared not approach, that Kadesh would fall without a fight. Ramesses listened to them and made his decision. The corps of Amun, led by the pharaoh himself, moved forward. The remaining corps stayed behind - they were not expected.

The camp of Amun was set up by the walls of Kadesh. Ramesses, clad in battle attire, was resting before the fight when a messenger burst into his tent. His face was filled with fear.

"Great Lord... Those deserters lied. The Hittite army is here. It is close. It is already marching on us!"

Ramesses rose. His face twisted. Shock, disbelief, and then - fury. He searched for the guilty ones, shouted orders, but time was slipping away like sand through fingers.

The corps of Ra, suspecting nothing, was marching toward the pharaoh's position when the entire might of the Hittite army fell upon it. It was a massacre. The Hittite chariots, the finest in the world, cut through the Egyptian ranks. Those who survived fled toward the camp of Amun. They burst into the encampment, sowing panic. Cries of terror, the clash of weapons, the stamping of hooves - everything merged into a single hum of catastrophe. The Egyptian army was breaking before their eyes. Soldiers threw down their weapons and ran.

Ramesses stood in the midst of this chaos, staring silently into the void.

The Hittite forces were closing in. Their chariots were already visible on the horizon - a wall of dust bristling with spears. The pharaoh's army was shattered.

But not their pharaoh.

Ramesses mounted his golden chariot. He took a khopesh in each hand. And, waiting for no one, he struck the horses. The chariot surged forward - straight into the thick of the advancing Hittites. One against thousands.

The pharaoh - he did not simply trample his enemies with horses and maneuver among them. He cut them down. Two khopeshes flickered in the air, leaving bloody arcs behind. His figure, drenched in the blood of others, towered over the battlefield, and a smile - that very smile that no one could ever replicate - played on his lips.

The chariot rammed into the Hittite ranks again and again. The pharaoh crushed his enemies, and his laughter carried over the battlefield. The Hittites, unprepared for such madness, wavered.

And then the corps of Ptah and Set arrived. Fresh forces struck from the flanks. The Hittite army, already demoralized by the sight of the frenzied pharaoh, began to retreat. And when the battle was won, when the enemy was fleeing, Ramesses did not stop. He wanted to continue. He surged forward, into the thick of it, to where Hittite warriors still remained.

And the pharaoh's own army had to stop their ruler. Soldiers seized the horses by the bridles, shouted, pleaded. Ramesses, still smiling, drenched in blood from head to toe, finally allowed himself to be led away.

Both sides withdrew. The Hittites, having lost so many men that their army was bled dry. The Egyptians, preserving their forces only thanks to the madness of one man.

On his way back to Egypt, Ramesses the Second simply smiled broadly the whole way.

*Present Day. The Valhalla Arena.*

Spenta Armaiti looked joyfully at Ra's bloodied leg. Her eyes shone, and a quiet, restrained smile played on her lips.

"Although Ramesses' character is not to my liking, I am glad that Göll chose the right human," she said. "It seems he truly can harm a god without a ring."

Göll confidently adjusted her glasses. Her face remained calm, but satisfaction flickered in her eyes.

"Zarathushtra," she asked quietly, "did Ramesses take his ring? Or did he rely on his own strength?"

The prophet, whose lips still bore traces of a villainous smile, shook his head.

"When Spenta and I visited his chambers in Valhalla, we offered him a ring. But that prideful man, in his usual manner, refused. Said something like 'the greatest has no need for such cheap rings'."

Spenta Armaiti frowned and added:

"I nevertheless insisted on leaving the box with the rings in his chambers. Just in case." She paused, and her face grew puzzled. "But when I returned for the box, after Ramesses had already left for the battle... I noticed something. One ring was missing."

Göll turned sharply to her.

"Which one?"

"Diligence," Spenta replied.

Göll narrowed her eyes and adjusted her glasses. Her gaze fixed on the figure of Ramesses in the arena.

"Where could he have put it?" she muttered. "It's not on his hands."

Spenta Armaiti also peered at the pharaoh. There were no rings on his fingers.

And then Zarathushtra burst into loud, ringing laughter. His laugh was full of triumph, and sincere admiration rang within it.

"Ah, Ramesses!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee. "A proud bastard, yes! But certainly not a stupid bastard!"

Göll and Spenta stared at him in surprise.

"Watch the fight more closely!" was all the prophet said, beaming with a smile. "How glad I am that someone like Ra will be humiliated again, and this time forever!"

In the VIP box of the gods, Ares, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, leaned toward Hermes.

"How is this possible? The human isn't reacting to Ra's ability at all. This is... impossible."

Hermes, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, opened his mouth, but a calm, dignified voice interrupted him.

"I see only one explanation," spoke Yu Huang, not taking his eyes off the arena. "Only one who himself possesses an ability similar to Ra's can survive such heat. This is completely impossible for an ordinary human. And even if he is using a Völundr — the Valkyries do not grant such abilities."

Zeus smirked, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

"The Valkyries are surprising me today," he cast a sidelong glance at Vidar. "Aren't you worried, Silent One?"

Vidar did not answer. Zeus hadn't expected an answer anyway.

Yu Huang narrowed his eyes, peering toward the opposite side of the arena - to where three figures stood frozen on a small balcony.

"I do not see Brunhilde," he said slowly. "So the rumors that the Valkyries have disappeared are true. Unless Brunhilde herself became the Völundr for the very first fighter."

"Beside the now-grown younger Valkyrie stand Spenta Armaiti and..." Hermes began, but was interrupted by thunderous laughter.

Zeus was laughing, leaning back in his chair.

"I am not surprised! Not a bit surprised that Zarathushtra is here too!" he rumbled. "Who else but him, that eternal troublemaker, would wish death upon the gods and watch it from the best seat!"

Vidar was not listening to them. His gaze slid to the empty spot on the couch beside him. Then he shifted his eyes to Ramesses' weapon and stopped on the pharaoh's left earring. Something in it caught his attention. His face momentarily twisted with displeasure. Then he shifted his calm gaze to the balcony - to where the leaders of humanity in this Ragnarok stood.

Their eyes met. Vidar and Göll looked at each other with absolute calm. Zarathushtra, noticing Zeus's gaze, spread into a sinister smile and tilted his head slightly in a mocking greeting. Spenta Armaiti shifted her gaze between Göll and Zarathushtra, and a strange expression - something between worry and hope - was written in her eyes.

Vidar spoke. His lips did not move, but the mechanical voice resounded in the heads of all those sitting in the box.

"They... They have declared war on the Divine world. So these are the ones who will challenge the gods."

Zeus snorted.

"You are treating this too gloomily and seriously, Silent One. War! This is more interesting than if no one had challenged us for the second Ragnarok."

The door to the VIP box opened. A figure with four wings stood on the threshold. Ares immediately jumped to his feet and straightened into a stance, saluting.

"At ease," the archangel said in a calm, emotionless voice.

**\[Metatron, Commander-in-Chief of the Angelic Host\]**

Hermes bowed respectfully.

"Metatron! What brings you here?"

The archangel walked to the couch and sat down next to Vidar - in the very spot the silent god had been staring at moments ago.

"I have already been invited as a participant on the side of the gods," he replied calmly. "I want to watch Ragnarok from the very beginning. From the first round."

Zeus frowned.

"I haven't written anyone down as a participant yet," he slowly shifted his gaze to Vidar, who was at that moment staring unblinkingly at the arena. The Thunderer suddenly laughed. "I'm surprised by your confidence, Vidar. Have you already drawn up the rosters?"

Vidar did not answer. His eyes tracked every movement on the sand.

Hermes, wasting no time, addressed Metatron:

"This human, Ramesses... Is he one of those you have encountered? Can you tell us anything about him?"

Metatron tilted his head slightly to the side. His lips twitched in a barely perceptible smile - the first show of emotion the whole time.

"If anyone can contend with Ra," he said, "it is a proud bastard like Ramesses."

Ra rose to his feet, limping on his wounded leg. A crimson trail stretched behind him. Ramesses stood motionless, gripping his khopesh.

"I once met a proud scum like you," Ra rasped, his voice trembling with fury. "A long time ago."

He raised his eyes to Ramesses, but seemed to look right through him. Before his inner vision, a gigantic human figure with serpentine features rose up behind the pharaoh's back.

"It ended with the death of that god," Ra continued. "And it will end the same way now."

His body tensed. Waves of heat, of such intensity that the sand beneath his feet instantly turned to glass, began to emanate from Ra.

\[Prominence Field - Full Throttle (Stellar Boundary)\]

The heat surged in all directions. The temperature soared to unimaginable heights. The air trembled, distorting the outlines of objects. Even the stone walls of the arena began to heat up.

Heimdall could not bear it. He whistled, and a giant bird swooped down from the heavens. Leaping onto it, the watcher of the gods soared into the air and continued his commentary from a safe height. Flying past Bastet, he deftly snatched a cooling drink from her hands and took a sip.

But Ramesses was completely unfazed. He stood at the epicenter of this hell, and the smile never left his face. Not a drop of sweat.

Ra looked at him, and what was in his eyes now was not merely surprise - it was amazement bordering on horror.

"I don't understand..." he breathed out. "But after this, a human is surely finished."

He tensed his arm. Muscles bulged, skin glowed gold. Solar energy concentrated in his fist.

Despite his wounded leg, Ra lunged forward through the pain. His charge was lightning-fast - a clot of pure destructive force, aimed straight at Ramesses' chest.

Ramesses calmly intercepted the blow. The blade of the khopesh met Ra's fist.

"You are an idiot," Ramesses said with the same smile.

Ra roared. His fist, colliding with the blade, trembled from the strain.

Remember my name, human!" he snarled. "I am RAAAA!"

And with all his destructive power, he increased the pressure. A pressure surpassing everything he had demonstrated before.

The shockwave swept Ramesses away. The pharaoh flew across the entire arena and slammed straight into the wall - into the very fresco that depicted him destroying enemies on his chariot. The stone cracked. The fresco crumbled into shards. Ramesses collapsed onto the sand, fell to his knees, and froze, slumped against the ground.

The stands of the gods exploded with a rapturous roar.

Ra straightened up, breathing heavily. Blood was oozing from his wounded leg, but he smiled - darkly, triumphantly.

"You kept saying that a god should kneel," he said, his voice carrying over the arena. "But the first to kneel was a human."

He laughed loudly, thunderously, and shook the blood from his fist.

Ramesses rose.

Slowly, without a single sound, he stood to his full height. His face showed neither pain nor anger. Absolute, unshakable calm. Sand fell from his clothes. The bruise on his shoulder still blackened, but the pharaoh seemed not to notice it. As he stood, Ramesses spat out blood.

His khopesh was glowing. Now - with a bright, saturated orange light.

Ramesses raised the blade and pointed it at Ra. His voice was quiet, but it held such power that even the stands fell silent.

"You did not understand, god."

He took a step forward.

"You must kneel before me. And accept my power."

Another step.

"Only then will I fight you!"

[EVEN AFTER DISGRACE, THE PHARAOH STANDS HIS GROUND!]

“INCREDIBLE! Yahweh lives up to his status as a creator, summoning not one, but TWO gigantic monsters to do his bidding! Humanity’s champion is in a rather constricting situation now!”

Trapped within The Leviathan's coils, Beowulf strained furiously, any sound he made was muffled by the scaly hide of the monster’s tail.

Atop The Behemoth’s head, Yahweh rested his head on his fist.

“Geez finally some peace and quiet around here. Levy shut you up real fast.”

The Monster Slayer grunted, freeing an arm and reaching for his blade that had been knocked out of his grasp when The Leviathan grabbed him. However, the serpent coils tightened around his body, dragging him away from Eotenbana and slamming him down into the dirt.

“Cute.” Yahweh chuckled. “But Levy ain’t gonna let that fly.” 

“Hruff!”

The One True God glanced down at his mount with an annoyed look.

“Oh shut it, Behey. You had your chance.”

With a seemingly triumphant sneer at the disgruntled Behemoth, The Leviathan lifted Beowulf upside down till he was face-to-face with Yahweh.

“I wonder…” The God muttered, pushing Beowulf’s head with a finger. “What inspires such… bravado in you?”

The Monster Slayer could only glare as Yahweh grabbed him by the scalp, turning his head from side to side, as though he were inspecting some kind of oddity.

“The faith your allies have poured into you? That is your power? How cliche, and… mistaken. You think you know of faith? You think you know its true weight and burden? How laughably… human. There is a saying where I come from: Gods Inspire. Humans Desire. It means your ilk—you are predisposed to long for something more, and it is the duty of us gods to answer. To mold that faith into something more—Yet as far as I can see, all you… ANIMALS do is take and take, bringing nothing but RUIN upon everything! So tell me… HUMAN!”

An ominous aura exploded atop The Behemoth’s skull, causing the audience, and even the two massive beasts to shudder.

In her booth, Brunhilde shielded herself with her arm, a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek as Yahweh let out an unearthly shriek

Such vitriol… it’s so strong it’s almost UNNATURAL!

“If your kind’s faith in me was all for naught, then what chance does yours have?! Do you think you’re somehow better than me? Do you fancy yourself some kind of GOD? YOU PIECE OF SHIT???!!!”

…

“SnOOORE—”

“Eh?” Brunhilde muttered, peering through a crack in his arms.

Still wrapped in The Leviathan’s coils, Beowulf’s hair had come undone and was now covering his face. A confused Yahweh reached out, pushing locks out of the way.

“SnOOOOOOOOOORE—!”

Beowulf, Humanity’s Greatest Monster Slayer, had conked out.

“NO WAY!!!” The entire audience facepalmed. “He—HE FELL ASLEEEEEEEP?!”

In the God’s VIP booth, Ares had collapsed in his chair, whilst Zeus belted out peals of laughter.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! I quite like that whippersnapper! Never thought I’d see the day that brat get all riled up like this.”

Said brat growled. A snot bubble had developed from one of Beowulf’s nostrils and was in a constant state of comically inflating and deflating. Yahweh gritted his teeth, popping the bubble with a start.

“Hey… I’M TALKING TO YOU!”

“SnOOO—Snrk! Wuh? Whazzat?!” Beowulf’s eyes burst open, his voice now somewhat audible.

“Guh… Oh crap, did I fall asleep or something?” Beowulf asked groggily. “Mah bad, I swear I was listening during the first part. But when you got into the whole ‘woe is me’ nonsense, I got kinda bored and dozed off—GYAHAHAHA!”

Yahweh sneered, “Oh haha. Laugh it up, big guy.” He turned, snapping his fingers.

“Because now you die.”

With a low trill, The Leviathan’s coils closed in, tightening against Beowulf’s body, sealing his mouth shut again. The serpent began to squeeze and constrict itself further around him, causing the hero’s bones to shift and crack as his arms were pushed up against his sides. 

CRUSHING ABYSS!

Beowulf struggled, his eyes seeming to roll back into his skull.
The Leviathan’s trill echoed into a triumphant shriek as it unwound its coils before wrapping around again in a final crushing hug just as Beowulf’s eyes burst opened and—

‘RIIIIIIIIIP!’

The serpent’s shriek transformed into a cry of agony! Its coils unfurled so fast it looked as though it had been stung. 

Dropping to the ground, Beowulf’s body was covered in splatterings of blood as his fellow man cheered for his freedom.

“What happened, Levy?!” Yahweh yelled, watching his creation recoil. The Leviathan’s body rippled, before stiffening as though that had caused it pain. Beside it The Behemoth let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like laughter, earning a sharp trill from its partner.

That little shit! Yahweh thought, facing Beowulf.

…

‘Beo! Are you alright? Oh no… You’re bleeding!’

“Itsh sho k, Goll.” Beowulf rumbled, his voice slurred like he had something in his mouth.

“Nyot… mah blud.”

In the Monster Slayer’s mouth was a piece of bloodied flesh. Following the trail of crimson splattered across the ground led to The Leviathan’s tail, which had a chunk taken out of it!
The Sin of Envy hadn’t been stung—it had been bitten!

“Ptoo—! Bleh… a bit too shrimpy for my taste, GYAHAHAHA!”

Beowulf’s eyes scanned the arena, lighting up as he spotted Eotenbana. In turn, Yahweh grimaced.

“BEHEY! LEVY! Don’t let him get that sword!”

Exchanging an almost competitive glance, the two creations surged forward.

“Oh? Tripping over yourselves to impress daddy? That’s cute!” 

With a burst of power, the Monster Slayer leapt high into the air, hovering above the beasts as they let out mighty battlecrys. 

The Behemoth dug its tusk into, and ripped up the earth, sending chunks of debris flying. Meanwhile, The Leviathan’s frills bloomed like a cobra’s hood as its long neck rose, readying to swallow him whole. 

Beowulf laughed.

“GOLL! Are you ready?”

‘Mhm! Let’s DO this!’

The hero inhaled, taking a deep breath as he drew his arm back, fingers straightening and pressing together till the edge of his hands aligned. With a loud roar he snapped it forward—

“COMET CHOOOOOOOP!!!”

A shockwave blasted down from the action, splitting every piece of the incoming debris clean in half, sending pieces crumbling down on top of the Leviathan.

Hissing as pebbles rained into its eyes, The Leviathan began to spam uncontrollably, trying to blink the debris out from its sight. And when it finally opened its eyes…

“GYAHAHAHA! Oi fish-face! Heads—UPPPPPPPP! COMET… STRIKE!!!!”

Beowulf’s elbow was already inches from its face!

…

Hlokk’s Waiting Rooms

Seated on their couch as usual, the duo of Hlokk and her Einherjar, Jack The Ripper were spectating the current round over a cup of tea.

“I must say that I was certainly concerned when God himself showed up to fight.” Jack commented as a tremendous boom echoed through the TV screen in front of them.

Beowulf’s elbow had just connected with The Leviathan’s head, sending it crashing head-first into the earth!
Its writhing coils soon followed, collapsing like cut pieces of rope that had lost their tension, and falling into a pile.

“To think one man is capable of matching him with such ease. Certainly a product of young Miss Goll’s power?”

There was a pause, prompting him to look over at his partner expectantly. Hlokk’s energetic personality was surprisingly absent.

“Oh? Do you disagree? You are not usually this reserved with praise for your sisters, my dear~”

“Oh shut it, you!” Hlokk snapped. “I mean—don’t take this the wrong way! Goll IS the youngest amongst us… So it's only natural her powers are…”

“Weaker?” 

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Goll’s powers are just… straightforward, that’s all. The louder her spirit and voice grows, the greater her strength! But with just how—well, ‘Goll’ she is—I never thought it would be this strong considering she’d always collapse when training under Hilde!”

“I see…” Jack mused. 

He pulled out a teapot and a small cup, placing the latter on the table as he began filling it with tea.

“Indulge me in a bit of speculation, my dear. Say this kettle represents Miss Goll’s power. With her youthful inexperience, the amount she is able to draw out by herself is insufficient to say the least before her body—“

He stopped pouring, gesturing to the cup that had already been filled to the brim.

“Is simply unable to handle it anymore. However say this bucket I add to the equation was Beowulf—“

Jack then produced a large bucket, ten times bigger than the cup, and positioning the kettle above its mouth.

“HEY! Don’t waste good tea!”

“Apologies.” He chuckled. “But I believe you see my point?” 

“Y-yeah…” Hlokk muttered. “Beowulf’s the bottomless bucket that can share and handle all the strength from her power that Goll by herself couldn’t!” 

Jack nodded. 

“A simple combination at first glance—pairing her inexperience with a boisterous veteran. But it works frighteningly well as we see.”

…

Valhalla Arena

Crashing back onto the ground, Beowulf had barely lifted himself off his knee before a shadow fell over him and he heard a familiar bellow.
Launching its foot down, The Behemoth unleashed another ‘Megatton Stomper’, sending a jolt down his spine as he barely caught the attack with his hands.

“This again? Alright big fella, if you insist! But if you’re gonna sneak up on me this time—“

With a yell, the Monster Slayer twisted his arm, forcing The Behemoth’s entire leg to turn as well. Bellowing in rage, the beast found itself thrown off balance and crashing down against the floor whilst Yahweh quickly leapt off its head.

“COMET DROP!”

‘Beo!’ Goll called out. ‘On you right!’

KEEL AMBUSH

Whipping around, Beowulf leapt just in time for The Leviathan’s fangs to barely miss him as its strike went wide, colliding against the earth.

“Good catch, Goll! You’re improving fast for a rookie!”

‘D-don’t mention it. But we gotta find a way to get Eotenbana back somehow!’

Beowulf grinned, cracking his knuckles. If looks could kill, he would have been dead a hundred times over from the glares both monsters were giving him as they rose from the ground. 

“Leave that to me!”

In an explosion of dust, the hero surged forward. His ascent met with the unearthly shrieks of the great beast as they charged to meet him in turn. 

First was The Behemoth. Clenching his fist and leaping into the air, Beowulf delivered a powerful strike meeting its swiveling horns head on! The impact sent both man and monster backwards. However, The Behemoth was quick to recover, digging its tusk into the ground and launching uprooted projectiles with a swing of its head again.

PRIMORDIAL DEBRIS

Shifting his leg, Beowulf responded with a series rapid-fire jabs one after another. Tearing through the rocks like paper, as The Behemoth continued its barrage. Soon enough, a massive crater formed at the monster’s feet, only growing larger as Beowulf’s arm met each attack without fail—steam pouring from his muscles.

“GYAHAHAHA! Keeping your distance now, are ya? What’s the matter, beastie, you scared?”

At that moment, The Behemoth sent another wave of rocks flying. However as Beowulf wound his arm back preparing to break these too, a luminescent streak darted between the corner of his eyes, moving swiftly between incoming projectiles and using them as cover.

What was that? Wait… Beowulf looked around, a certain something was missing from the battlefield! I see, so that’s how you two wanna play? Sneaky Bastards!

…

Landing on the ground, Yahweh brushed himself off as he turned to look at the battle raging behind him.

Tch…? That’s a first. Never seen Behey and Levi—

Like clockwork Beowulf tore through those rocks with ease. However, as one burst apart in a shower of pebbles, a familiar set of fangs and frills seemed to explode into existence, and The Leviathan’s gaping maw bore down on the Monster Slayer.

—working like this together! 

…

“WHOA!” Beowulf cried out, shifting back as the serpent’s fangs slammed shut just inches from his face. The Leviathan trilled, as its body coiled back to The Behemoth’s side.
Exchanged a sinister glint, The Behemoth’s tusk dipped back down and lifted a huge chunk out of the ground, smashing it into pieces before hurling them at Beowulf! Simultaneously, The Leviathan shot forward, its serpentine body shifting between and behind numerous projectiles so fast it soon became lost in the field of debris!

PRIMORDIAL DEBRIS + KEEL AMBUSH

“Tch…” Beowulf cocked his fists, jabbing and smashing rocks as they came near. “Looks like we’re in a tight spot here, Goll—WHOA!”

The Leviathan struck, sweeping around a boulder to strike! Beowulf barely dodged, returning with a swift chop. But the serpent had already slithered away as another projectile soared past his ear, refocusing Beowulf’s attention on the new wave of debris sent his way by The Behemoth.

This dangerous game continued: Beowulf breaking more chunks that came in never-ending waves, forcing him into a state of hyper-focus as his joints moved surgically to counter each and every single one without leaving so much as a scratch!
However, this left him vulnerable. As without warning, The Leviathan would emerge from nowhere and deliver a deadly blow! Leaving only a tiny window in between beats for the Monster Slayer to react and dodge.

Though Beowulf was moving along just fine, with each passing second it became clear to all—that this razor thin margin would only grow narrower!

‘Arggggh! This isn’t good!’ Goll cried. ‘Since when could such a big snake be so sneaky!’

Beowulf didn’t answer, preoccupied with parrying. A sudden lunge from the left caught him off guard, and the Leviathan’s fang grazed his left wrist, drawing blood as the creature sneered and dove back into its cover.

‘... Heheh—I know that look! Y-you’ve got one of your trademarks plans, don’t you Beo?’

“GYAHAHAHA! You’ve read my mind, partner! Gotta warn ya though, it’s gonna be risky!”

‘Guh—R-risky? Pfft–! Remember what you said, Beo? We can do ANYTHING together!’

“... You know I can tell you’re still scared out of your wits, right?”

‘S-sorry… I didn’t want to—’

Just teasing, partner! I don’t care how scared you are right now. Because what you just said—”

Beowulf raised his fist just as The Behemoth launched another barrage. His body buzzed with preparation as he watched The Leviathan slither and disappear once again into the crowd.

“IS. DAMN. FUCKING. RIGHT!”

…

Archangel’s Viewing Booth

“Odd.” Michael mused, watching the exchange below.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Raphael asked.

“I’ve seen both The Behemoth and The Leviathan working in tandem many times.” The Archistraegos explained. “But in all my years of combat, I have never known Lord Yahweh’s creations to fight so… reservedly.”

At that moment, two new angels entered the booth. Both sporting the same prismatic wings as Michael, and Raphael. The one on the right was skinny, dressed in yellow, with short spiky hair. Whilst the one on the left was considerably wizened than the rest, sporting a snowy white beard. There was a long scar running down his left eye, and he wore starry blue robes whilst resting a gloved hand on the scabbard by his hip.

https://preview.redd.it/5yrz456i8mah1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=bdd5f4243ae885b53e9262026c567ed4d8d62d0c

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Archangel Gabriel
(Abrahamic Pantheon)
The Angelic Herald

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https://preview.redd.it/670fgy9k8mah1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=1821a332c43de0a934d16bba97c329e3188f0965

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Lord Metatron
(Abrahamic Pantheon)
The Celestial Scribe

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“Brother Gabriel! And… Lord Metatron?!” Raphael greeted the duo. “What brings you here?”

“I was making my way down here myself when I ran into Lord Metatron.” Gabriel explained, caressing a golden horn in his hand not too different from Heimdall’s whom he regarded with a spiteful glare.

“Tch! So Zeus did get that Norse hack to act as commentator after all? That geezer has no sense of decorum…”

On the other hand, Metatron made his way to the edge of the balcony, scanning the arena as his eyes landed on Yahweh.

“Lord Metatron… It’s been a while.”

The angel silenced Michael with a flick of his palm. Stroking his beard as he mused deeply.

“Excellent observation, Michael…” His voice was soft yet reverberating. “Yes… it would have been expected for both beasts of old to sense that human’s growing exhaustion and go in for the decisive kill. Yet, they still cling to this strategy of chipping away at his strength? There can only be one explanation for such behaviour… FEAR.”

“?!” The younger angels tensed at that word.

“FEAR?” Michael spluttered. “The Primordial Beasts of Land and Sea are… afraid?”

Metatron’s eyes focused on Yahweh again, spotting him grimace.

“Yes… I’m sure that boy knows it too. To the rest of the arena, there are but only two monsters on the battlefield. But as far as The Behemoth and The Leviathan themselves are concerned—”

…

Valhalla Arena

Watching Beowulf destroying projectiles, The Leviathan laid in wait, instinctively targeting the hero’s bloodied left. Watching… waiting just for Beowulf's body to relax slightly after delivering a punch. It didn’t have to be a decisive blow… just enough to continue bleeding him like a pig!

The Leviathan lunged forward, unhinging its maw to deliver a quick cut. 

‘Ba-dum. BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’

“Dammit not again!” Yahweh cursed, clutching his chest. “Urgggggh—Forget that! Don’t tell me… he’s seriously going to—?!”

The moment the Leviathan had sprung, Beowulf’s eyes and its own locked together. The Hero’s body twisted sharply, his left arm veering into the path of its jaw. Unable to stop itself, the serpent’s fangs sunk into his flesh, lodging deep within as it instinctively bit down!

“OH NO! Beowulf has just taken a devastating strike from The Sin of Envy! What could Mankind’s champion possibly do now?!”

“... Oi, god.” 

Hearing Beowulf’s voice call out to him all the way across the arena, Yahweh felt his hair stand on end as he shifted unconsciously. 

‘BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’ A-am I afraid? Of this human?! No… no, that isn’t it—that isn’t it at all! This was… this was the same thing when I watched every single one of those rounds—!

Beowulf took a step back and grinned. 

“Caught. You~”

I… I HATE FEELING THIS WAY!!!

…

Before the Leviathan could react, Beowulf swung his arm into the air! What a sight it was, to see the entire length of this massive serpent forced along, hanging midair as the hero began to spin it round and round like a whirlwind.

“COME ON. COME ON! Why do you now cower, oh god of the south? Did you not ask me what I was?” Beowulf called out as the centrifugal force from his spin began to draw in the air around him.

“Burn it in thine heart, for well you know my name! I am Ripper... Tearer... Slasher... Gouger. I am the Teeth in the Darkness, the Talons in the Night. Mine is Strength... and Lust... and Power! I AM BEOWULF!!!!”

…

‘BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!’ 

“Damn you, human—! Sorry Behey, you’re on your own!” Yahweh said before suddenly leaping away and leaving The Behemoth behind. 

I’m not falling for the same trick twice!

…

“COMET SPIN!!!”

With all his might, Beowulf dislodged the shrieking Leviathan with momentum alone, sending the massive serpent flying across the air towards The Behemoth as the great beast let out a bellow of surprise! Its ally had been turned against it, the heavy air denying either of them any chance of escape! 

The Beast of the Land, and The Serpent of the Seas. Their eyes locked onto each other for a picosecond, their savage minds in that instance shared but a single thought before they collided in a mighty ‘BOOOOOOM!’ that shook the entire arena to its foundations.

‘On that barren landscape of vitriol and ruin. There is only ONE monster amongst them all!’

[HOW WILL THE FIRST ROUND OF RAGNAROK BEGIN?]

The Valhalla Arena buzzed. Thousands of gods filled the stands, their shouts merging into a deafening roar full of anticipation and a thirst for spectacle. The defeat of a thousand years past was forgotten, displaced by pride-this time, this time humans would see the true power of the celestial beings.

On the opposite side of the arena, humanity gathered. They did not shout. Their faces, representing all eras and all continents-from Roman legionaries to samurai, from Vikings to scholars of the Modern Age-were focused. They did not celebrate prematurely, but a quiet, unshakeable confidence burned in their eyes. They already knew they could win. They had known since the day Brunhilde, a thousand years ago, proved that gods could be defeated.

The arena was a perfect circle, strewn with golden sand. But the decoration was the main feature. On humanity's side, the walls were painted with frescoes in the Egyptian style: a pharaoh on a chariot, smiting enemies; a pharaoh receiving gifts from subjugated kings; a pharaoh raising his hands to the sky, and before him-kneeling multitudes. On the gods' side, different images shone: an eagle whose talons pierce a serpent; an eagle soaring beside the sun; an eagle worshipped by mortals.

In the VIP box, the mightiest took their places. Zeus, Hermes, Ares, Aphrodite, Shiva, Vidar, and Yu Huang-each occupied their seat, each awaiting the start in their own way. Shiva lounged lazily; Aphrodite's attendants fanned her; Zeus leaned forward, grinning predatorily. Somewhere far away, in a completely dark room, Perun sat before a vast screen broadcasting the event. His icy eyes followed the arena unblinkingly.

Meanwhile, in his palace, Dionysus sprawled on silk cushions, surrounded by laughing goddesses, raised a bottle of wine to his lips and rasped out a laugh:

"Let the revelry begin!"

The goddesses giggled coquettishly, nestling closer to him.

On humanity's side, on a small balcony, three figures observed the proceedings. Göll stood straight, arms crossed, her face impassive. Spenta Armaiti nervously wrung her fingers. Only Zarathustra smiled-broadly, villainously, with anticipation. His eyes shone.

In the center of the arena stood a god.

[Heimdall, Watcher of the Apocalypse]

In his hands was the Gjallarhorn-the horn whose sound heralded the beginning of the greatest events.

He drew himself to his full height and spoke, drowning out the noise of the stands:

"A thousand years ago, the first Ragnarok ended with a score of seven to five in favor of humanity. The gods suffered defeat. But today, a thousand years later, the gods have again decided to issue a challenge. And today the second Ragnarok begins-the last one! No longer is the prize a paltry thousand years. At stake is the very existence of humanity! For all eternity! I declare the second and final Ragnarok commenced as of today!"

He raised the horn to his lips, and a thought, almost childish joy, flashed through his mind: {"How glad I am to do this again. AT LAST!"}. The Gjallarhorn sang-a deep, drawn-out sound that vibrated the air and stilled hearts.

Heimdall lowered the horn and continued:

"From the gods' side shall emerge the one who was the very first to lose in the tournament of the gods. The one who was overcome by the Celtic demigod Cú Chulainn. But today, this disgraced god returns. He will challenge humanity and reclaim the place that is rightfully his. Welcome! The god who, even after a thousand years, inspires awe! The one who once already tried to wipe out humanity single-handedly! The Unstoppable Ra-Horakhty!"

The gates on the gods' side swung open. But instead of Ra, slaves poured into the arena. Dozens, hundreds-they assembled into a living pyramid, climbing onto one another until they formed a towering dais. And when the pyramid was complete, a figure lightly leaped from the gods' stands onto it and settled at the top as if on a throne.

[Ra-Horakhty, Head of the Egyptian Pantheon]

Heimdall sighed inwardly: {"Prideful gods like Ra will constantly try to show off. Although, from the information I have, the human is exactly the same."}

Ra rose to his full height. Even after that disgrace, even after a thousand-year coma, he made them believe. He jumped down to the arena, and the slaves scattered.

Heimdall turned toward the gates of humanity.

"From the side of humanity shall emerge the one who was born on the very land that Ra himself once scorched. Who could possibly have come into the world in that desert? The answer is simple-the proudest human! The greatest pharaoh, who, over sixty-seven years of rule, did not lose a single one of his fifteen military campaigns! Fourteen victories and one draw! But even in that draw, he showed himself to be truly unstoppable! He reached a pinnacle of kingship such as none had seen before or since! And he lived ninety-one years-which for that time and that region can be considered immortality! But most importantly, this man..."

He did not finish. The gates on humanity's side burst apart with a crash-they did not open; they were blown off their hinges, reduced to splinters. A golden chariot flew into the arena at full speed. The finest steeds of the stables of Ancient Egypt, harnessed to magnificent horses, raced across the sand, kicking up clouds of golden dust. And in the chariot, smiling broadly and not wavering in the slightest, stood the pharaoh. His eyes sparkled with delight and absolute, impervious self-confidence.

The chariot hurtled past Heimdall, and the pharaoh, at full speed, snatched the Gjallarhorn from the hands of the gods' sentinel. The chariot came to a dead stop, throwing up a wall of sand. Heimdall stood speechless, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

The chariot stood stock-still.

The pharaoh raised the horn to his lips and spoke. His voice, thunderous and filled with incredible, inconceivable pride, rang out over the arena:

"One can put it more simply! Merely: the wisest, the strongest, the richest, the most beautiful, the greatest human, and all the rest are his fans, including the gods themselves! The Unstoppable Ramesses the Second, the Great!"

[Ramesses II, the greatest pharaoh of Egypt]

Finishing, he carelessly tossed the Gjallarhorn back into Heimdall's hands, jumped from the chariot onto the sand of the arena, and landed lightly. The chariot wheeled around and raced back, leaving only a cloud of golden dust behind. In Ramesses' hand gleamed a khopesh.

Ra looked at him. In his eyes boiled a fury such as he had not felt even in his battle with Cú Chulainn. Not even when he saw Ptah on his throne. This human-this wretched mortal-dared? Dared to behave this way? On his arena? Before him?

The humans exploded with laughter and enthusiastic cheers. They recognized their fighter. The gods, on the other hand, froze in shock. From the stands came bewildered exclamations: "Ra will disgrace himself again against some pitiful...", "It cannot be...", "Who is this mortal?"

Heimdall, finally mastering himself, cleared his throat and proclaimed:

"Well then, I declare Round 1, the battle of two unstoppable forces, begun! FIGHT!"

Both fighters stood frozen opposite each other. The sun god and the sun pharaoh. Two titans of pride. Two beings unaccustomed to yielding. Silence hung over the arena, heavy and ready to explode at any moment.

Ramesses spoke first. His voice was calm, almost lazy:

"By right of being the greatest, I will not attack first. Not until my opponent acknowledges my greatness and kneels."

Ra blinked. He thought he had misheard.

"What?" he asked again, certain his ears had deceived him.

Ramesses smiled even wider.

"Until you kneel and acknowledge that I am the greatest, I will not attack."

The fury boiling in Ra's chest was unimaginable. He had thought he had reached the peak of rage when he saw Ptah on his throne. He was wrong. Now he was shaking. But to attack first-that would mean losing face. He, the sun god, could not allow that. And so he decided otherwise.

"I will do to you what I did to Egypt," Ra whispered, and his eyes lit up.

[Prominence Field]

The temperature in the arena spiked sharply. The air wavered. The gods in the stands shifted uneasily, and at that moment they appeared:

[Bastet, Egyptian goddess of protection from evil]

[Hathor, Egyptian goddess of the sky, fertility, and love]

[Isis, Egyptian goddess of funeral rites]

[Sekhmet, Egyptian goddess of war]

The Egyptian goddesses were distributing cooling drinks. In the VIP box, Ares, alone among all, began to sweat. Beads rolled down his forehead, but he did not take his eyes off the arena.

From the stands of humanity, various words were heard, but all were astonished: "What kind of power is this?", "Am I the only one who's getting hot?"

Ramesses stood absolutely still. Not a single drop of sweat appeared on his face. He looked at Ra with the same condescending smile, and his fingers gripping the hilt of the khopesh were dry.

Heimdall's lenses fogged up slightly.

"Ra, intolerant of such treatment, will force Ramesses to move!" he announced.

Ra narrowed his eyes. {"It cannot be. Not a single drop of sweat?"}

[Prominence Field - Full Throttle]

He raised the temperature again. Even higher.

Heimdall's lenses fogged up completely. He could see almost nothing, but continued to commentate, straining all his vision:

"Ra continues to torment the human! But Ramesses is completely unfazed!"

The pharaoh stood just as motionless. His proud smile did not dim. The khopesh in his hand did not waver.

Ra could not believe his eyes. He stared at the human-an ordinary, mortal human, who should already have been writhing in agony-and saw only calm.

"A human is not capable of enduring such heat," he whispered, and for the first time, doubt crept into his voice. "Without a drop of sweat... This is impossible."

He waited. A minute. Two. Ramesses did not move. His smile seemed to grow even wider. Ra bit his lip. Blood dripped onto the scorching sand. His fist clenched with such force that his nails dug into his palm, tearing the skin. The sun god was at his limit. But Ramesses was not.

And then Ra snapped.

With a wild, inhuman roar, he tore from his spot. His body, engulfed in solar fire, became a blurred bolt of lightning. Heimdall barely had time to commentate:

"Ra launches his attack! The sun god is the first to go on the offensive! Lightning speed!"

Ra struck with his legs-one after another, in a flurry of combinations. But Ramesses dodged. Easily, playfully, as if dancing. His body flowed away from the strikes with unnatural fluidity.

{"It cannot be," flashed through Ra's mind. "In this heat... He can't move like this. He can't react like this. It's impossible!"}

He increased the pressure. The strikes became faster, more ferocious, but Ramesses continued to evade. Then Ra leaped. He soared into the air and crashed down from above, putting all his divine power into a kick.

[Divine Condescension]

Ramesses raised his khopesh to defend-the blade met the blow. But the force was such that the guard faltered. Ra broke through the block, and his foot slammed into the pharaoh's shoulder. The sound of the impact was accompanied by a crack.

Ramesses stepped back. A huge bruise bloomed on his shoulder. And where the blow had landed, a deep crack yawned in the arena floor. Ramesses' khopesh, after this attack, glowed with a dim, orange light.

Ra landed and straightened. A satisfied smirk played on his lips.

"And this is what you meant by greatness?" he asked mockingly. "Human?"

Heimdall, whose lenses were finally beginning to defog, commented:

"The first to spill blood is the human! What else could be expected from the power of the unstoppable Ra!"

Ramesses did not answer. He looked at the bruise, then at Ra. His face showed neither pain nor fear.

Ra, emboldened, rushed into the attack again. He jumped-exactly as he had the first time, confident in his superiority, in his invincibility and unstoppability.

[Divine Condescension]

But this time Ramesses was ready.

The pharaoh shifted the khopesh into a different grip-blade down. The movement was lightning-fast, honed through thousands of battles. He struck from below upward. The curved blade sliced through divine flesh, sinking deep into Ra's leg. As the khopesh touched Ra's body, the human's weapon vibrated strangely. Blood spattered onto the sand.

[Will of the Pharaoh]

And two seconds later, Ra was hurled backward. An invisible shockwave, unleashed from the khopesh, flung him across the entire arena, and the brightness of the khopesh faded. The sun god crashed onto the sand, rolled, and lay still. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at his leg. Bloodied. From the wound stretched a long trail of blood, glistening on the sand.

Heimdall, his eyes wide, exclaimed:

"Now that is what should be expected from the unstoppable human! Ramesses strikes back!"

On the balcony, Göll smiled faintly. Her wager had been confirmed. Spenta Armaiti watched the arena with quiet satisfaction, and Zarathustra even shouted joyfully, shaking his fists in the air.

Ramesses lowered his khopesh and looked down at the fallen god. His smile did not dim. His voice was still calm, still regal:

"Two suns in this world are one too many. The only one worthy of being the sun is me. Ramesses the Second, the Great."

He paused. The sand beneath his feet, melted by Ra's heat, crunched like glass.

"I repeat for the last time. I will not attack first until you accept my greatness and kneel!"

[THE PHARAOH LAUGHS IN THE FACE OF THE UNSTOPPABLE GOD!]

 Asgard

Odin’s Study

A Few Months Ago

 A knock came from the door as Odin pored over an open book resting on his table. He looked up from his latest read, but ignored it and resumed reading.

Another few knocks rattled against the heavy wooden door, but Odin ignored them, too.

Another knock sent the door flying off its hinges straight towards him.

Odin raised his right hand and caught it by the edge before it could hit him. He placed it to his right, then turned to the entrance.

Standing on the other side of the table, eyeing him in cold fury, was Týr.

“Father,” Týr said, barely above a whisper.

“Trying to pick a fight with me now?” Odin asked. “Did not know you when you grew so bold.”

“Hard to take your friend getting accused of dracoside when the only proof is Loki’s word.”

“You need to take that up with him and not waste my time or my patience.”

“I thought fathers were supposed to make time for their kids.”

Odin rose. “You forget your filial piety, boy.”

“Haven’t humored that in ages. None of us has, so don’t pretend it exists.”

Odin’s aura exploded outward, drowning the room. The shelves crumbled into pieces. The table between father and son cracked and turned to dust. Dark energy swirled into Odin’s hand, forming into Gungnir.

Perfect. Týr thought. “I bother you, and this is how you respond? Blowhard.”

Odin raised his spear.

Týr stepped forward, jabbing his finger through his father’s overwhelming aura and tapping his chest.

“Tiwaz Thrigjarra Thraut,” Týr uttered.

Purple energy erupted from the spot, enveloping them both. Odin’s aura vanished instantly, and he froze in place. Gungnir twisted and vanished out of his hand.

“You…ROTTEN…” He uttered.

“Congratulations, Odin. Surprised?”

Odin’s eye wore a look that could burn a hole through Týr’s head.

“Take that to mean ‘yes.’ Never really paid attention to anyone but Thor. Oh well.”

“Release me, and you might survive.”

Týr blinked. “Do…do you hear yourself? ‘Release me, and you might survive?’ Make me release you.”

Odin strained and struggled, but nothing.

“You can’t transform or use your Galdor either. However, you might get free if you answer my questions.”

“WHAT?!”

“Answer three questions. It’s easy. But there are rules. I am a God of Rules after all.”

“You dare—”

Týr clapped his hands, drowning out his words.

“Shut up already. Let’s get started.”

How…how is this possible?! Odin thought.

“Answer three questions. You've got sixty seconds to answer each one. If you lie, you lose your powers for twenty-four hours. Refuse to answer, and you instead lose your powers for one year. Do either of the first two or a combination of them three times, you lose your powers permanently."

“I will not humor this!”

“But you’re stuck here.”

“Do you think you can force me to do anything?!”

Týr nodded. “I am right now. First question: Do you genuinely believe Loki? Without any evidence whatsoever other than his word?”

“You…” Odin’s face contorted into a furious scowl.

“Stop being obtuse about this. If you’re going to devolve into a snarling dog, at least learn how to speak. Forty seconds.”

Odin squinted.

“Are…are you so obstinate that you’d rather lose all your power than answer—”

“I didn’t.”

A soft chime rang in Týr's head.

The fuck what? Týr’s jaw hung in shock. “But…you still imprisoned Siegfried in Tartarus!”

“Of course I did.”

Týr’s hands clenched. “So…I now have proof you had no evidence.”

“Where? I don’t see anything capturing this.” Odin smiled. “Next question.”

Týr froze. Oh…oh no. “Why do you still keep him imprisoned if there’s no proof?”

Odin’s smile vanished.

“Time’s running.”

The seconds passed between them. Each one ticking slowly by. Týr’s heart raced with each passing moment as his father stared him down.

He answered one, so he can’t die, but I know he’s hiding something! Is it so dangerous that he would risk this?! I know I didn’t tell him every rule, but still! That’s supposed to be a trick!

“You sure about this? Is it worth hiding?”

Odin did nothing.

A horn blared in Týr’s mind, and the purple aura vanished.

“Wow…that’s it.”

Odin smiled, his grin stretching across his face to his ears. “Time’s up, Týr.”

He nodded. “It is, but not for me.”
Odin’s smile faded. He looked at his empty hand, as if something should be there.

“Sorry, but I kind of cheated. I’m charitable, not stupid.”

The Tiwaz Rune appeared on his head.

“You only answered one question. Time for the penalties.”

Odin stepped forward, grabbing for Týr’s neck.

Týr slapped his hand away, then fired a right punch into his solar plexus, shooting him into the wall. Odin slid down as pain coursed through him.

“For failing to answer my questions, you are not allowed to kill or impair me per that Rune. You cannot act against me. Keeping it vague so you can’t work around it. Learned that from Loki. For failing to answer two questions, I can impose a limit on your power.” Týr walked over to his father and stared down at him. “I’m charitable. I’ll let you have use of…three Galdor. Only three. And it’s the only three you’ll ever have again.”

Slowly, Odin rose, towering over his son.

“Oh, and just in case something happens, if I die, be ready to suffer another penalty.” Týr smiled and turned around. “Loved the father-son chat, Dad.”      

The Heavens

Eden

Mountain Biome

 Odin felt something warm on his forehead.

One thing I never learned from you, father. A familiar and frustrating voice said. And that was how to keep a promise.

He reached his left hand up and tapped it, and his eyes widened in fury.

You useless brat! He thought.

I’m still charitable, though. I consider that a gift from Metatron.

Odin’s face contorted into a scowl.

But don’t worry. I’m sure Hades won’t figure it out! I’m sure you picked the right Galdor to use for the rest of your miserable life. If I’m dead well…you don’t want to know. If you see Sieg and Hilde…actually, I hope you don’t. Good luck, ‘father.’ It was not fun talking to you again.

TYYYYYYYR! He roared in his mind.

Odin twirled Gungnir, then reached his right arm back.

I only need three to destroy this worm!

“NÍUNDI GALDOR: VINDSKǪGGULL!”

Runes and energy wrapped around Gungnir, and Odin tossed it.

Hades grit his teeth and gripped his bident just below the spearhead. His right foot stepped forward, and he swung overhead, letting the Bident’s shaft slide through his grip.

“PERSEPHONE-TITAN!”

The thrown spear and swung bident crashed into each other, and the displaced air knocked everything away. Metatron scooped up his helmet and tried lying flat on the ground, but the gale scooped him up and threw him.

Hades’ eyes widened as his swing sent Gungnir flying and buried the Bident’s head. He kicked it, dislodging it, and dashed at Odin.

“Persephone-Lore!”

“Fimmti Galdor: Fafnir!”

Hades’ thrust smashed into the Rune-covered shields. Odin felt the force course through it, and he pushed against it, his feet skidding back as the shield started cracking.

Gods are not supposed to be this strong! Odin thought. They don’t deserve to be this stron—

The bident pierced through the shield and impaled Odin through the chest. He gripped it with both hands and swung it hard to the right.

“Persephone-Hemera!” Hades threw Odin off the bident towards the mountainside. He smashed through like an arrow.

“Do not look down on me just because you got Gungnir back!” Hades yelled. He heard something whistling behind him and ducked down. Gungnir flew overhead, almost skewering him as it flew towards its master.

“Damn, I can’t let him heal!”

Gungnir flew into the hole.

Odin flew out, fully healed, towards Hades.

They both thrust their spears, sending more shockwaves out and dislodging rubble from the valley and surrounding mountains. They both sailed back and landed on their feet.

Hades breathed heavily, eyeing Odin.

He healed faster than—wait. He squinted.

There were the faintest of cracks at the two spots in Odin’s armor where he stabbed him.

No. He didn’t fully heal. Why? Is he desperate? Wait, the throw from earlier. He rolled the bident between his fingers. It wasn’t as strong as the one before.

Odin bared his teeth and readied Gungnir.

Is…is he getting weaker?

 Jörð Arena

Outside the East Gate Entrance Hall

 Far from the fated reunion, Lugh walked down the curved passage, feeling each step grow heavier the closer he got to his assigned entrance. As he walked, he rolled Assal’s shaft in his left hand, feeling the smooth gold on his fingertips.

Please no more surprises… He thought. I just want to get to the hall. Fighting feels easier than I’ve been doing…

He then pictured Macha and Nuada holding something. Something Lugh could find no words to describe, except that the sight of it made him feel that holding it in his hands would crush him.

Then, he stared down at his right hand. The same hand he gripped Marduk’s with. That same hand, beaten and bruised, that exchanged fists and farewells with a monster of a man.

But I now understand why. Guess I can’t be too upset.

He clenched it tight, raised his head, and continued.

As he turned the corner to the hall entrance, he saw a familiar sight: Nuada and Macha, standing at the door. The pair saw him, and their eyes lit up.

His brow raised. “Uncle? Aunt Macha? What’re you two doing here?”

“We were waiting for you,” Nuada said. “It didn’t feel proper to have you do this alone!”

“We can’t go out there and fight with you, but we can at least do this!” Macha added, smiling. “We…also need to talk with you.”

“…Sure. About what?” He asked, feeling a small weight hit his chest.

“Lugh, we’re…” Nuada cleared his throat. “We’ve been talking.”

Oh no… He thought.

“We’re not great at things like this. We…were never planning to be…you know.”

“Our jobs and the protection of Eire were demanding,” Macha added. “We both went through a lot, and it took…a lot from us.”

Lugh nodded.

“And so, we were worried…” Macha started tearing up. We weren’t able to give you enough, or what you need.” Her lip quivered a little. “So we’re sure you…” She blinked a few times. “You understand that we probably weren’t the best with you.”

Lugh shot her a puzzled look.

“After what happened to Cian,” Nuada said, forcing a smile. “We didn’t think it was right to leave you alone, especially with why Cian was taken from us. But that didn’t mean we were qualified! I mean, ruling and fighting are one thing!” He huffed a little. “Being a parent is a whole other challenge.”

Lugh smiled. “I mean, you guys weren’t perfect, but you did the best you could!” He looked to the right, looking out the window. “I just hope I was worth it.”

“Lugh.”

He focused on Nuada.

“We have made so many mistakes, but adopting you was never one of them. ” Nuada shook his head. Macha reached for his right hand and held it. “I made so many mistakes. Many of them affected you, and that’s not right. I…” He cleared his throat. “We…adopted you because we realized that the Eire we were building was not what we wanted it to be and you deserved better.”

Macha nodded. “Bres and Balor—”

“Please stop,” Lugh said, raising his left hand. Gently, he placed Assal on the ground. He walked over to the pair and looked them in the eyes.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around them and pulled them into a hug. “Please don’t apologize.” I can’t stand seeing you two like this. His fears washed away as he held them. “I…can’t even begin to say thank you. I don’t know how to, for everything you two did.”

Macha and Nuada slowly wrapped their arms around each other and their son.

“Everything I have is because of you two.” He felt the weight of his world in his arms. “I am only who I am because you two were there.”

He remembered that day. When he was a small godling, standing alone in that house. The overwhelming silence that stole the joy from its walls, like the bitterness that took his father. He remembered the pair appearing shortly after, walking through the threshold. With but a few words spoken, they scooped him up and took him to Tir Na Nog, his future home.

His hold tightened just a little. “I’m sorry if I ever made you two feel like I didn’t love you. I just wanted to give back to you everything you gave me.”

They broke their embrace, and Nuada placed his right hand on Lugh’s shoulder. “Never. We…we don’t know what’s on your mind, Lugh, and we wish we could help you.”

“It’s why we asked Marduk and Sarpanitu to meet with you,” Macha said. “They’re better at this than we are.”

Lugh let out a small laugh. “I think Nabu would argue that, but I understand. They did help, but I need you two to understand something.”

The pair stayed quiet.

“I didn’t do all this, go through all that training, and deal with all that bitterness back home because it was my duty.” Lugh smiled, letting a few tears run. “I did it because Eire’s my home! It’s where you two are. It’s where Brigid, Epona, Ogma, and everyone else are. I love my home, warts and all, and I want to fight for it. Protect it. Like you two did.”

“By All, I hope you do a better job,” Nuada said.

“I will.” Lugh’s expression hardened. “I promise. But if I do that right, that means I am stuck with you two for a while longer!” He smiled again. “And I’d like that.”

“Aaaaah,” Macha said. “And here I thought we’d get to travel. Shame…”

“A good son is humble enough to know when he needs his parents, right? And wise enough when he needs to do things on his own.”

Nuada nodded. “We can at least walk with you up to the exit.”

“I’d like that.”

Nuada and Macha turned, walked up to the double doors, and pulled them open.           

“Oy! The hell took you so long?!” A woman’s voice roared through the growing crack.

Lugh stood, frozen.

In the hall, lining both sides as far as he could see, were familiar faces. The closest to his left was a Goddess with brown horse ears and tail, her brown vest and white shirt pristine, paired with black trousers. Her red eyes carried that same smug look, but now with a hint of warmth.

“Epona,” Macha said sternly.

Epona looked away, and Ogma, standing across from her, snorted, covering his mouth, his wheat-colored moustache and goatee with his free hand, while he held something covered in a blue cloth.

“Behave yourself,” Nuada said, matching his wife.

Ogma lightly bowed, still smiling.

Standing next to him, in her green dress, was Brigid, smiling warmly at Lugh.

“Uncle, what’s going on?” Lugh asked.

“Ogma,” Nuada said, beckoning him. Ogma walked over and passed the object to him. He bowed, then stepped back to the wall. Nuada pulled the cloth off, and Lugh’s heart accelerated.

It was a simple, silver crown with two long prongs. A simple crown that weighed more than Lugh could describe. In Nuada’s hands, it seemed so light. Almost boring, even.

I’m sorry, Lugh. For the first time in a long time, we had to lie. “Face me, Lugh,” Nuada whispered as Macha stepped next to him. Every God and Goddess in the hall, of all shapes and forms, kneeled.

Lugh looked down the passage for a few seconds that stretched into eternity. He turned to the pair who were his parents in all the ways that mattered, and knelt.

“I, Nuada Airgetlam, Supreme and Chief God of the Celtic Pantheon: Of The Tuatha De Dannan, of The Gauls, and of The Welsh, have summoned all those who stand under my banner. Today, we stand in the presence of our new King. A King forged by our hands, united by the dream of peace.” Nuada stared down at the crown, then at Lugh.

“Lugh Lamfada, son of Cian and Ethniu.”

My boy. Our boy. He thought.

“You have stood shoulder-to-shoulder with many here today. You have saved their lives, grown alongside them, laughed with them, and mourned with them. There are many here who would not be alive were it not for you.”

How can I help you see that you’ve already done so much? That any soul would be blessed to have you for a son?

“Kings and Council deem you worthy to wear this crown. To be the next ruler of our people.”

That any land would be blessed to have you as a King?

“Much has been given to you, and much, if not more, is expected.”

The fools among us who cling to hate are a minority. We have given everything we can to you.

“To protect this land and her people.”

I am so sorry so much is asked of you. I know you fear the unknown. I know you’re scared of something happening to us because of something you may do. That fear is monstrous, and I know it too well.

“To guide them in dark times, and live in the joy of the moment.”

The fact that you feel that way for us fills me with so much pride I can’t stand it! I failed as a King, but you! You showed us we could still succeed as parents and raise a better King than all the ones before you!

“And so…today…” Nuada stepped forward, struggling to keep his kingly bearing. He felt the yearning. To hold it. To keep it from potentially crushing his chosen son.

Thank you for being our boy, because you, and only you…

Slowly, gently, he rested the crown over Lugh’s brow.

I trust only you with this.

“Rise.”

Slowly, Lugh rose. He stood tall and extended his right hand. Assal wiggled, then flew right into his grip. He dropped his hand.

The three of them turned to face the hall.

“I present to you all! King! LUGH! LAMFADA!”

The hall…roared. Roared so loudly that the thick walls could not deafen it. So loudly the crowds of Gods above them could feel their seats shake under them. A roar of pure joy and triumph.

And all Lugh could do was stand there, taking it in. He breathed deeply and took his first steps into the hall. He took them all in: their cheers, their joy, and their hope. Brigid pulled him into a strong, strangling hug before cupping his face, feeling his ears. His fear vanished as she smiled and mouthed. I believe in you and make us proud.

He bit his lip and nodded, fighting back tears. He stepped away and walked down the hall. As his people slapped his back or tussled his hair, a young Goddess with deep black hair tied up in a ponytail and her eyes perpetually closed, stepped up to him and placed something in his left hand. She whispered something in his ear, but he couldn’t understand what she said. Yet, he could feel her hands gripping his left and knew the weight of them. Three other young Goddesses pulled her back, all cheering for him as he walked. He pocketed what she gave him as he walked down that hall.

Walked to face his first greatest challenge as King.

Walked the path that he could not turn back from.

Nuada and Macha watched him go down the hall, but it soon became too much. The pair walked away from the hall, far from their people. Lugh was king now, but expectations are expectations.

Far from the cheers and hopes of their people, Nuada and Macha allowed themselves that one grace they could share with only each other, the one person they trusted more than anyone else.

Macha fell to her knees and cried, but no sound came out as the tears fell. Nuada knelt next to her, wrapping her in his arms, and wept.

 The Heavens

Eden

Mountain Biome

 Far from the coronation, Odin exhaled. I was right. He’s not stronger. He felt pain’s shock from his two new wounds. Týr’s trick is weakening me even more! Of course, you couldn’t defeat me. He leered. But I can’t keep this up. I don’t know if using the Galdor more will weaken them, or if it's time. Týr’s been dead for a few hours, so it’s more likely the former. I may have to use them, but doing that will…no. No. If it means Metatron dies, and I can put an end to all of this, it will be worth it!

Odin smiled again. “Hades,” He said. “You will—"

“No talking!” Hades rushed forward. “Persephone-Lore!”

Odin swung Gungnir up, parrying it.

“Bad move!” Hades gripped the bident with both hands and brought it back down. Persephone-Sphyrokópos!

Odin raised Gungnir and blocked the strike. The blow hammered him into the ground, burying his legs.

UPSTAAAAAAAART! Odin roared in his mind.

Hades jumped back, then jumped high, preparing another stab.

“Persephone-Kallichoron!” He shot back down, Bident aimed right at Odin’s head. “Heal from this!”

Odin snarled. Now!

Bone erupted out of Odin’s head. No. Something made of bone swam out of his head, sitting atop his skull. The bident struck it, and vibrations poured out of the point of contact.

Hades jumped back as a pair of rings flowed out of Odin’s chest and floated around him. Two ghostly arms extended out of the rings and connected to Odin’s back, the rings sitting firmly on their wrists. The spectral hands touched the ground. The first below them turned to mush, and they lifted Odin out of it.

Far away, Metatron saw the moment transpire and felt hope slowly die.

Those are…Draupnir: Chaos’ Alchemical Bracelets?! He thought. And Satan’s Helmet, Egil! He did have them?! “Hades!” He yelled. “Forget fighting him! He is using Yggdrasil’s weapons!”

Hades sighed. Too late for that. He’s not going to let me escape.

“You…will regret halting our progress, God…” Odin said, his voice reverberating.

Hades’ eyes widened.

Odin appeared right in front of him and tapped his chest with his finger. “Egil: Skelfibylgja (Trembling Wave).”

Vibrations flooded through Hades body and fired him back. His feet skid against the ground until he came to a stop, covered in tears and coughing up blood.

“The tremble of fear is natural when facing us. Your body is so terrified of us that our mere touch causes you to shudder and flee, tearing your own body apart to get away!”

Black Stars floated out of his body, growing and encircling and floating around his neck. A jagged edge erupted out of his left hand, turning into a sword. Odin grasped it firmly.

“The Necklace of Ymir, Brisingamen, and Odin’s sword…Gram,” Metatron whispered.

He has all four! Set yelled in Metatron’s head. When?!

“It does not matter. We are doomed.”

Hades rolled his shoulders. He scanned the floor around, seeing his blood everywhere.

Perfect.

Hades slammed the pommel of his bident on the ground. All the blood around and on him floated up and flew around the bident before encasing it. The prongs bent, stretched, grew, and combined into a large, silver point.

“Ichor Desmos!” He roared. “Fear, huh? Well, what do you know. To think I could feel fear over something so trivial.”

“Trivial? A sign of your ignorance.”

“Hmm. I read about Yggdrasil. I was hoping for something more…substantial.”

“Then allow us to live up to our reputation!”

Odin started floating a few inches above the ground, then rocketed towards Hades. Odin thrust Gungnir, and Hades matched with Ichor Desmos.

The tops of the surrounding mountains tore away. Metatron stabbed his arm into the ground, nailing himself in place as the wave of air washed over him, destroying his eardrums. Blood poured from his ears, and he passed out.

Hades pushed through and sent Odin back, the skin on his palm tearing away as he tried pushing Desmos through. Odin flew back, landed, and sneered.

“You are strong, God!” He said. “Strong enough to survive two blows from us!”

“I have no use for your flattery!” Hades roared.

“We do not waste praise on the weak. Why not join us?”

“And do what? Slaughter the rest of the cosmos?!” Hades twirled Desmos and charged. “Ichor…EOS!” He thrust.

The eight stars making up Brisingamen lined up in front of Odin, intercepting the thrust. They spun and vibrated, sending waves through the Bident.

Damn…IIIIIIT! He thought as he pushed through the fear and pain.

“You decline our offer? Decline the divine privilege and rite of destruction, only we, the strongest, possess? You are strong in body, but weak in mind.”

The stars vibrated faster, then shot forward, knocking Desmos away and slamming into Hades, sending him into a distant mountainside.

Odin stared off into the distance where Hades flew. Then, he scanned the valley and found his target.

“Wonderful.”

He vanished and reappeared, floating above Metatron’s unconscious body.

“We remember you. We remember your strength, Metatron. We had hoped you would understand why we did what we did. Alas, you are still the soft-hearted fool who bent to Gǫllnir’s whimsy, and Eir and Eirin’s kindness. What has that gotten you?”

Odin raised his hand. The stars floated high above him and started vibrating.

Please wake up, Metatron! Set yelled. I know I can undo the Völund, but damn it, I can’t abandon you like this!

“Farewell…old friend.”

PLEEEEEEEEEASE!

The stars shot down.

Right towards Vidarr, standing over Metatron, his helmet in Vidarr’s large palm. They vanished just before the stars tore through everything below them.

Suddenly, a massive boulder smashed into Odin’s left side. He looked over, eyeing Michael surrounded by a small colony of boulders.

“One of his little projects?” Odin said.

“One of his sons, you callous barbarian,” Michael uttered through gritted teeth. He clapped his hands together, and bright yellow wings made of energy burst out of his back. “Maṭṭar Avnīn (Rain of Stones)!”

Far from the new conflict, Vidarr reappeared on a small jut, breathing heavily, and laid Metatron down and put his helmet next to him. “I got them!” He yelled. “Shit, that still takes a lot out of me…”

Arthur and Sigfried rushed over. Arthur knelt and placed his hands over his old foe. “Vidarr, get Sieg down to help Michael. Michael’s nowhere near as strong as he needs to be. Then, grab Hades and get him here.”

Vidarr and Siegfried nodded. The pair locked eyes, and Vidarr placed his hand on Sieg’s shoulder. “Here we go…” The pair vanished.

Set, can you hear me? Undo the Völund. I can’t heal him properly if you’re still linked to him.”  

He’s insane if I’m going to believe him.

“I was stuck in a cave for almost fifteen hundred years. Could anyone stay perfectly sane?”

…You can hear me?

“More importantly, do you trust me?”

…

The helmet started glowing. The light glowed and expanded, revealing a God in old Egyptian robes, his once bald head now covered in long black locks.

“Can you save him?!” Set asked.

“I can, please wait.” Arthur started chanting in his mother tongue. Energy flowed from his hands over Metatron’s body as blood started flowing from Metatron’s chest.

Then, the flow slowed, and Metatron’s eyes fluttered as the pain and aches of old wounds started fading. They slowly opened, and he squinted towards a familiar face resting his hands over Metatron’s chest near that familiar wound.

“Sorry, we took so long to get here,” Arthur said. “It should not be long until you’re back in good shape.”

“….Ar….thur?” Metatron whispered.

He nodded as several booms and explosions littered the distant air.

“Let’s hope they can hold him until we can join the fray.”

-The Jade Palace-

Yu Huang and Ao Kuang sit and watch the arena intermission, Yu Huang letting out a loud sigh. “So… that is the end of Arthur Pendragon…” He stands, crossing his arms behind his back.

Ao Kuang gulps seeing his father in such deep contemplation. “... father. You spoke of him in quite strange terms. May I know why?”

Yu Huang nods. “Of course, my boy. It is because… he is the man who made me vote for the destruction of humanity.”

“W-what?! I suppose… I had never considered or doubted your reasons…”

“Yes. He was a destructive and brazen man. He killed many dragons in the name of conquest. His legends as well… caused the extermination of the dragons of Earth back in that time. And yet I cannot truly find myself hating him. How… hypocritical of me. To blame a man who had changed from who he once was.”

Ao Kuang walks up beside his father looking out over their cloud-riding Xulong dragons dancing across the sky outside. “I do not think so, father. You have torn down your very core and rebuilt yourself while he merely changed his outlook, not his very being.”

Yu Huang gives Ao Kuang a gentle affirming squeeze on the shoulder. “Thank you, my boy. Say, my son. It has been long since we went and did something together.”

Ao Kuang nods. “That is true. I could use the distraction. I was going to go the round and check on the dragons. Would you care to join me?” 

Yu Huang strokes his beard. “Ah yes. That sounds quite wonderful. Where to first, my boy?”

Ao Kuang takes out a stone tablet which inscribes a few things on it. “Well a few days ago, one of our young wyverns hurt its wing. Perhaps we ought to check up on him.”

Yu Huang nods. “Oh dear. Let us do so, posthaste. Why did you not inform me of this?” Ao Kuang whistles, causing one of the xiaolong dragons to float down in front of him and he gets on top. Yu Huang meanwhile makes a gesture with his hands and a jade crystal cloud forms in front of him which he steps onto as they set off.

“You have been… rather busy with Ragnarok these past few days, father.”

A silence falls over them, thinking about Ragnarok. “... Quite so…” Yu Huang brings himself to say, looking to Ao Kuang who is deep in thoughts, clenching the xiaolong’s back fin as it runs along the clouds. “She had fun, Ao Kuang. And she fought well.”

Ao Kuang gives a soft smile, somewhat full of regret. “Yes she did. But it is hard to believe she is truly gone. It does not feel like it. We do not see each other often… I had not seen her since her ‘curse’ after all.”

Yu Huang tries to find some words of comfort. “... Time spent together does not measure a friendship the same as a reunion after time apart does. I saw you with her after you reunited. As though no time had passed at all,” He recalls when Ao Kuang was still young and playing in the gardens of Shinto with Tsukuyomi. Back when he was… someone else.

Ao Kuang laughs. “And yet so much had changed. But I suppose she found her match in that man, Houdini. Even if his… brazen display after her… death, annoyed me to no end,” 

“Annoyed? Past tense?” Yu Huang steps off the cloud into one of the wyvern habitats. A floating island with the beginnings of snow gently falling. Orange, withering leaves on all the trees, a gentle cool breeze at all times. Wyverns are highly territorial and familial, so even this large island is home to only a single wyvern clan.

Ao Kuang nods as he gives a light shiver from the sudden drop in temperature. “In the moment, I was furious. Not befitting a member of the Jade Palace. But I recall the moment vividly. Something about his attitude change felt rather… insincere. But regardless we are here,” 

Yu Huang steps off the dragons, seeing someone approaching. It is Ao Kuang’s twin brother, Ao Run. “Ah, father. A pleasure to see you here,” He bows and Yu Huang bows back.

“The pleasure is mine. But I am told… that a young dragon has been hurt? I was wondering if I may meet it to ensure it is healing well?”

Ao Run nods. “Of course. Right this way,” He gestures to the large expansive cave opening in front of them. 

Ao Kuang shivers a bit and rubs his arms to heat up. “I have never understood how you can exist here without freezing, brother.”

Ao Run laughs gently. “I believe it is my natural constitution, brother. But it is not THAT cold. Just think how cold Ao Shun’s habitats are.”

“Do not remind me…”

As they step closer something MASSIVE suddenly crashes to the ground in front of them. A wyvern. Twice the size of the one Yu Huang had used as a construct in his battle with Hartmann. Pale white scales, and rimfrost-like patterns flowing through its wings. 

It ROARS in their faces, but the Celestial Sage does not budge, merely folding his hands into his sleeves. “This one is Roar, father. The father of the clan,” Ao Run informs him.

“Aaaaah yes. I recall his hatching, many many years ago,” Yu Huang smiles with joy, despite the aggressive behavior. “Apologies for intruding upon your lands, oh mighty dragon,” He bows deeply. “We are here to see your young injured whelp,” He reaches out a hand. “I know you are scared and protective of your weakened young. But please. You know me, young man.”

The wyvern stares at Yu Huang for a while, sniffing at his hand, huffing and stomping its feet, before it slowly back away and allows them to follow it into the cave where an even larger Wyvern is lying, huddled up around a nest of heated rocks. It angrily huffs at Yu Huang and the sons as they approach. But Roar seems to huff and convey they mean no harm. And after sniffing Yu Huang a few times seems to recognize the scent. “And this is your mate? What a powerful beauty you have found, my friend,” He bows to the large wyvern. Female wyverns generally grow far larger than their male counterparts. The female wyvern spreads her tail and removes her wing, revealing a young whelp under her wing with bandages on its wing, folding it closed. “... hm. What happened to this one, Ao Run?” He gets closer, causing the whelp to squeal and squirm until it feels Yu Huang’s gentle hand on its snout. “Calm yourself, young man. This is no way for a noble dragon to behave,”

Ao Run steps in closer, much more carefully than his father. “It got into a fight with one of its siblings and was crushed by a falling tree that fell.”

“Oh young can be so rough and eager to prove themselves,” He reaches to his belt, gently cupping the wyvern gem. “Your Lord blesses you, young whelp,” He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gem, making it glow faintly and he holds it over the wound. “It will not heal just from this, young whelp. But should help it along. You are strong. Cherish your sibling,” He stands and bows to the dragons before the two of them head out, the big wyvern poking her brood with her nose as if to check on him, the younger dragon letting out a cute sneeze of frost fire.

Getting back on their dragon and cloud. “What a terrible accident. I am glad you were here, Ao Run,” Yu Huang says with a smile.

Ao Run bows. “Thank you for coming by, father. It was lovely to see you again. You as well, brother,” 

The two set off again. Yu Huang chuckles to himself. “I am reminded of a moment from YOUR youth. You and Ao Run had not seen eye to eye on a matter and got into an altercation much like this one.”

Ao Kuang blinks in confusion. “I… you remember that?”

Yu Huang lowers his gaze. “I am aware I did not… handle it well back then. I hope I have improved my parenting. Not that you four require it any longer.”

Ao Kuang laughs. “I still have much to learn from you, father. Now… Next would be-” However Ao Kuang is interrupted by an explosion on a nearby island. 

“What in the name of the dragon lords is that…?” Yu Huang changes course with haste, speeding far past Ao Kuang’s Xiaolong’s running speed. Approaching one of the large habitats, expansive in many directions he sees a drake, the size of his own Dracomancy construct scorching the earth with its powerful firebreath. Ao Qin, the youngest of his children desperately flying around it. 

“Gaidrus! Please calm yourself! This is no way for a Dragon Lord to behave!” He angrily strikes the giant dragon with his dragon spear, but it’s no use. Suddenly from within the ground the Fire Drake is scorching erupts a massive Xiaolong with icy blue scales, which grabs hold of the Gaidrus and bites down on its neck. “Dammit Ao Shun! Didn’t we agree NEVER to bring their territories close!?” Ao Qin calls out as Ao Shun is standing at the back of the giant Xiaolong pulling on its tail rather pointlessly trying to wrestle it away from the drake, his legs frozen to the wintery ground around him.

“I do not control where Di Dao floats his island! Just get him away and we’ll move his island, before they wipe out this entire territory and we’ll yell at each other LATER!”

The two dragon lords roar at one another in anger, Gaidrus preparing a massive fireball while Di Dao quickly climbs around the massive dragon and jerking its head away, blasting the massive fireball straight at Yu Huang who approaches with haste. Yu Huang pulls his arm back, thrusting forward with two fingers, piercing the fireball which easily outsizes him and it simply dissipates. “My sons! RETREAT AT ONCE!” He orders and Ao Qin and Ao Shun both look up at the tiny cloud approaching them.

“Father be careful! These are the new Dragon Lo-” 

“WHAT!!!!!???? IS THE MEANING!?? OF THIS!!!!???” Yu Huang erupts off the top of his lungs catching the attention of the two dragon lords who roar at Yu Huang before continuing their fight. “You do not wish to heed my warnings? So be it!” Yu Huang dives off his cloud, falling straight down towards the two massive dragons, he reaches back, grabbing two of his stones, clenching them tightly. “Then perhaps I will remind you of the authority entrusted to me!” 

Two monstrously large projections appear around him of a faint jade-like glass. A drake and xiaolong. Majestic and proud, yet calm and with a quiet flaming anger about them. The two dragon lords instantly cease their fighting and almost whimper to the floor as Yu Huang floats between the two, a stone in each hand. “I am aware of, and understand your need for battle. Your pride taints your very nature and it is nothing to be ashamed of. HOWEVER!” Yu Huang gestures around the area which is in flames, many far smaller dragon species and other fauna hurrying out of the burning trees and seeking shelter. “Your foolish actions have consequences! And bring shame upon your names! Gaidrus! Di Dao!” Yu Huang holds his hands up, gesturing to the two massive dragons. “As future Dragon Kings! These two. Are the standards to which you must rise. Noble. Fair. Powerful. DO NOT make me teach you this lesson the hard way!” 

The two large dragons naturally do not understand his words exactly, however the quiet judgmental gaze of their ancestors beaming down on them convey approximately the same message in far less words. The Gaidrus gives one final roar at Di Dao before he shoots off to a nearby island where he stands at the edge, watching Di Dao’s cloud-borne island floating away. Yu Huang slowly sets down and lets out a heaving gasp as the projections disappear. “Paaaaaah… goodness. That truly does take much from me still… I am showing my age, hohoh,” He chuckles as Ao Qin and Ao Shun come to his aid to help him up. 

“Father! Thank goodness you arrived so swiftly… Ao Shun really was slacking on his duties.”

Ao Shun crosses his arms, towering over the two others. “Apologies but there are MANY Xiaolongs who carry their islands wherever they so please. I cannot control them, any more than YOU cannot control the Drakes.”

Yu Huang coughs a little. “Boys. My dear boys… do not… make me teach YOU a lesson too,” He laughs and pats them both on the shoulder. “The work you do to keep the dragons safe is instrumental. I truly do value you both. In the future… please do not put yourselves in such danger.”

“... we had to, father. There were others at stake.”

“... it is as you taught us. Save and care for others, whenever the need arises.”

“We are the ones strong enough to do so,” The two brothers’ eyes connect and Ao Shun shrugs. “Apologies for my negligence…”

Ao Qin clears his throat. “... I should have seen it coming. The fault is mine…”

Ao Shun squints. “Nay. It lies with me.”

“No ME!” the two once more scowl at each other.

Ao Kuang finally arrives at the scene. His dragon had, wisely, decided to remain at a distance from the dragon lords. “Father! Are you alright?” 

Yu Huang laughs and fixes his robe. “A little exercise never harmed an old man. Shall we?” He gets back on his cloud.

Ao Shun and Ao Qin both bow. “Thank you, father. Safe travels.”

As they fly away Yu Huang gives another soft smile. “Ah those two. Always at odds. And yet they clearly care for one another.”

Ao Kuang gives a soft chuckle. “Siblings will drive you to madness, and yet you would lay down your life for your brother.”

Yu Huang nods folding his hands back in his sleeves. “Yes. As would I for my children. I only regret that it took destroying countless families for me to learn the importance of them…”

“Your mind drifts to Wukong, father?”

A sigh escapes the Celestial Sage’s lips. “Yes. Often so. I can never truly make up for what I have done to that boy… I will never expect his forgiveness so long as I draw breath… or even after I cease. And that is okay. I am eternally grateful to him for sparring not just my life… but the lives of you four as well.”

A rather somber silence falls over the two of them as they fly. “Ahem… where to, my boy?”

Ao Kuang beams up all of a sudden. “OH! Yes! Hurry father! We are late!” He gives a smack on his Xiaolong and it speeds up, rushing towards the Jade Palace.

“Late? Whatever for!?” Yu Huang speeds up as well. 

“It matters not, does it father! Shall we race!? For fun?” 

Yu Huang laughs and strokes his beard. “Oh dear a race! Very well, my boy!” Yu Huang sets off faster, Ao Kuang and him laughing as they zoom across the skies, Ao Kuang attempting to use his large dragon to get in Yu Huang’s way. In the end the young dragon king arrives first with Yu Huang shortly behind, his hair windswept now and he quickly fixes his beard. “Ohohoho. You really have gotten better as a dragon handler, my boy,” He pats his son on the back looking around. They are standing at the coastline of one of the massive ‘on site’ habitats of the Jade Palace. “Aaaah. I see. Kiaka’s habitat,” he smiles softly. One of the younger dragons who live at the Jade Palace. Weak at birth, with no mother, Ao Kuang has personally seen to her growth.

Ao Kuang nods. “Yes. I have felt it father. They are ready.”

Yu Huang smiles widely. “Her eggs are hatching!? Oh most wonderful. Shall we head inside and see it from the glass?” He suggests and Ao Kuang laughs as he takes off his robes. 

“Of course not father! This you MUST see in person. Come on!” Ao Kuang jumps into the water with a quick splash and springs from the water like a dolphin. Soon after something stirs in the water as Ao Kuang is lifted out of the water by a large sharp head. Followed by another. And another. And another. And yet another. “Kiaka! How’re you doing, girls!?” He scratches the head he’s on and any that come close. Each head about the size of himself. 

Yu Huang chuckles. “I will simply watch from inside, my boy.”

“What?! No! Come on father! Whyever not?!” 

Yu Huang sheepishly blushes. “I… ahem… I do not know how to swim.”

Ao Kuang pauses a little before jumping off Kiaka’s head, the hydra approaching Yu Huang with her heads for scratches as well. “... I… did not expect that father. You have always felt so skilled in all fields.”

Yu Huang strokes his beard. “Well… I know which fields I excel in… and mostly choose to do activities that involve those. I do know how to move in water using my magic. However… with Kiaka’s eggs I do not wish to disturb them accidentally… I will watch from with-”

Ao Kuang takes Yu Huang’s hand. “I’ll help you, father! I’ll guide you along. You only need to focus on breathing underwater. Trust me father. Allow me to assist you.”

Yu Huang’s eyes widen. This boy truly has grown a lot since he was young. “What a fine young man you have become, my boy,” Yu Huang gets his own robe neatly folded next to Ao Kuang’s. Despite his older age he is quite fit underneath, but bandaged up to keep himself from hurting. The two step into the water. As the Dragon King of the West River, Ao Kuang can naturally breathe underwater, but Yu Huang needs to use a magical technique to maintain the ability to do so. 

Yu Huang feels rather powerless as he begins to sink to the bottom, Ao Kuang taking his hands and swimming backwards with ease, gesturing down to Yu Huang telling him to kick his legs. The Celestial Sage does so, though his technique is flawed, Ao Kuang giving a low chuckle, making Yu Huang blush and furrow a brow a little as if saying ‘do not laugh at your father’. 

The cerulean lake of water shudders and moves as Kiaka fully reveals herself underneath them, a rather small yet fully grown hydra with ‘only’ five heads. She pokes Yu Huang along down to her nest on the bottom. Where her four large eggs are laying with a window into the Jade Palace right next to it. The angels inside, cleaning all notice Yu Huang in the water and point in surprise. He gives a nervous wave as they set down next to the eggs. 

Kiaka beams with pride at her eggs. Yu Huang gently places a hand on one of the eggs. They are brimming with life. Any moment now. One of the eggs shakes. Kiaka’s many heads zero in on the egg with big eyes. The baby within struggles to break through the shell and Kiaka gives a grunt but Ao Kuang holds her back from poking it. This is something the whelp needs to do on its own. Yu Huang smiles as he sees a crack in the egg and the dragon within manages to finally poke itself out, a little tiny head which lets out its biggest roar it can manage. Its eyes are closed and Kiaka gently pokes it with one of her beaks. Yu Huang stands back as the other eggs follow suit and the tiny waterborn dragons flood out into pool, Kiaka’s heads swirling around to keep them close to the nest, with the fifth head finding some food which seems to attract the whelps back to the nest to eat their first meal.

Yu Huang wraps an arm around his son and looks down at him with a smile. He is glad he trusted him and saw this up close with his own eyes. It is beautiful. The birth of new life. And a new mother, excited for parenthood. This is what strength is meant to protect.

[THE GODS HAVE CHOSEN A SECOND RAGNAROK. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?]

The corridors of Valhalla had emptied. Echoes of furious shouts and the stomping of hundreds of feet still lingered beneath the vaults, but the gods themselves had already scattered to their halls-to celebrate the coming slaughter. Göll walked alone. Her footsteps, light and almost silent, were swallowed by the thick silence. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, adjusted the glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose, and bit her lips.

She did not notice the two figures that stepped out of the shadows behind her.

"Is it true that the surviving Valkyries disappeared after Ragnarok?"

The female voice was soft, almost sympathetic, but Göll flinched as if a gong had been struck next to her ear. She spun around sharply. Two people stood before her. A woman-tall, with wings on her back. A soothing radiance emanated from the feathers. Beside her was a young man with sharp yet pleasant features. In his hands, he held a wooden casket of an unusual hexagonal shape. At its center, Persian symbols glowed gold, and within them, some ancient secret seemed to be contained.

"I see none of your sisters," the woman continued, sweeping her gaze over the empty corridor. "So it is true..."

Göll was silent, studying the uninvited guests. Surprise mixed with wariness was written on her face.

"It doesn't matter," she finally said dryly.

The woman smiled softly, inclining her head.

"Forgive me. We clearly started badly. I am Spenta Armaiti," she placed a hand on her chest. "And this is my companion, Zarathushtra."

[Spenta Armaiti, last of the Amesha Spentas]

The man bowed courteously, and a spark of sincere respect gleamed in his eyes.

"It is an honor to meet a Valkyrie," he said. "I have heard much about your kind."

[Zarathushtra, prophet of Zoroastrianism]

Spenta Armaiti stepped closer, and her wings shifted slightly, stirring a light breeze.

"How do you intend to stop the gods if your sisters are not at your side?" she asked. There was no mockery in her voice, only concern. "And are you ready, Göll, to take on the responsibility of your elder sister's role?"

Göll straightened. Something in her fragile figure changed imperceptibly. The uncertainty that had flickered a minute ago vanished.

"It is what my sisters would have wanted," she answered firmly. "I believe they will appear by Ragnarok. I do not need help. And if they have truly disappeared forever…" she faltered for only a moment, "…then I will think of something. There is no reason why I should stop helping humanity."

Zarathushtra nodded approvingly, but his gaze remained serious.

"A wonderful attitude. And yet… please, hear us out." He exchanged a glance with Spenta and continued: "There are those in Heaven who are also dissatisfied. Those who wish life for humanity. At first, we did not think to contradict the gods. But Brunhilde…" he uttered the elder Valkyrie's name with special reverence, "…a thousand years ago, she showed everyone: the gods can be fought. She inspired us as well."

He paused, and his face darkened.

"After the death of Ahura Mazda-the vilest of villains-we are finally free. Free from his oppression. And now we can close the chapter on our centuries-long inaction. We want to help humanity. And we are ready for anything. Please, give us a chance to participate in saving humanity."

Göll tilted her head to the side. No added interest appeared in her eyes; rather, a polite indifference.

"And what can you offer?"

Spenta Armaiti answered. She spoke slowly, as if weighing every word:

"Long ago, Ahura Mazda desired that only he be known on Earth. The One God. To that end, he created thirteen rings. Each one represents one of the human traits. With their help, a person binds themselves to an object that means something important to them-to something with which they walked through life. The bond with that object depends solely on how important it was to the person in life. The ring allows one to unlock the potential held back by the body and… to harm a god. One only needs to put the ring on a finger."

Zarathushtra, no longer able to contain himself, flung open the hexagonal casket. Inside, in velvet compartments, lay the rings. They shimmered each with its own hue, and the air around them seemed to thicken from the power they contained. Zarathushtra began listing, his voice ringing with pride:

"Bravery. Confidence. Diligence. Heroism. Honesty. Independence. Innovation. Justice. Loyalty. Mercy. Passion. Patience.…"

He paused briefly, then took his own ring from his finger-a dull, battered thing-and carefully placed it into an empty slot.

"And Determination!"

He closed the casket and added quietly:

"Only I possessed such a ring. The others…" he pressed his lips together, "…could not handle Ahura Mazda's temper. To put it mildly."

Spenta Armaiti stepped very close to Göll. Her wings trembled slightly, and in their light, the Valkyrie's face looked very young.

"Allow us to help you," she asked quietly. "I truly want to help humanity. And you. I deeply respect the Valkyries. I was acquainted with Brunhilde." A shadow of a memory flickered in her eyes. "An unshakable woman. She always achieved victory. I… I myself want to be like that."

Göll looked at her for a long time. Then she sighed-not joyfully, but with a kind of weary resignation-and adjusted her glasses.

"I already have an idea for the first round. Just in case, prepare the ring 'Diligence'."

She turned away and was about to leave, but stopped and threw over her shoulder:

"Although, most likely, the first human won't even need a ring to defeat a god."

Zarathushtra and Spenta exchanged glances. Anticipation lit up in their eyes.

Meanwhile

Vidar strode through the corridors of Valhalla with that same measured, silent gait. Behind him, barely keeping up, walked Forseti.

"I found out and ran straight to you, as you requested. He just woke up," the god of justice blurted out, breathless. "Though I still don't know your plan. What are you hoping for, Vidar? Zeus made it clear-he won't give you the position of the fighters' leader. He told you that directly, didn't he? So why?.."

Vidar did not answer. He silently pushed open the door and entered the infirmary. Forseti, left in the corridor, threw up his hands in irritation.

"You don't have to be so silent!" he called after him, but the door had already closed. "I can't get along with his character..."

Inside, a sterile twilight reigned. It smelled of herbs and something bitter. Vidar bypassed the common ward and moved further, into a special room hidden behind a heavy curtain.

There sat a stern god. The god looked unwell. His body was covered in scars, and a bandage covered the place of his left eye, remnants of a battle a thousand years old. He was grumbling something, addressing the god standing next to him.

[Ra-Horakhty, former head of the Egyptian pantheon]

"The last thing I remember," Ra was saying in a creaky voice, "I almost defeated that Celtic demigod in that foolish tournament. Almost."

[Asclepius, Greek god of medicine]

"The patient must not be disturbed," Asclepius cut him off, noticing Vidar, and stepped forward, shielding Ra with his body. "You have no right to be here, whoever you are. Even with your status."

Vidar simply looked at him-with his expressionless eyes. Asclepius faltered, mumbled something, and left, as if an invisible force had pushed him aside.

Ra stared at the newcomer. Bewilderment was written in his bleary eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Vidar. Son of Odin," came a mechanical voice that required no movement of lips. "Deputy head of the Norse pantheon."

Ra grimaced, but Vidar continued, giving him no chance to interject:

"How would you feel if you learned that that tournament ended with Zeus, without even finishing the tournament bracket, declaring himself the winner and entering Ragnarok?"

The sun god raised his eyebrows. His gaze wandered somewhere into the distance, through the walls of the infirmary. For a few moments, he seemed to turn to stone. Then his lips twisted into a bitter smirk.

"It doesn't surprise me that a moron like Zeus could do such a thing. That was to be expected…" he paused, "…but not if I had won."

"You were in a coma for a thousand years," Vidar reported in the same impassive tone. "But surprisingly, all your vitals are normal now. Though you have probably already been told."

Ra abruptly leaned forward. His eyes flared up.

"What do you want from me?" he nearly shouted.

Vidar did not flinch.

"The last Ragnarok ended with humanity's victory. Humans found a way to wound gods. Though, judging by the rumors, they will have no such way this time. Now a second one is coming." He paused, letting the words sink in. "You will never be chosen as a participant. No one takes you seriously."

"Get out," Ra hissed. "The eternal sun of Egypt will never set!"

"Then where are your servants?" Vidar asked calmly. "Where is Bastet? Sekhmet? Isis? Hathor?"

Ra froze. Something flickered in his face. Vidar continued:

"Your position as head of the pantheon has been taken by Ptah."

Ra jumped to his feet.

"Ptah?! That old fool? He dared?!"

"You can see for yourself," Vidar nodded toward the exit. "There will soon be a congress of pantheon heads. You may still have time to stop by the palace of the Egyptian pantheon before Ptah leaves."

Ra was breathing heavily. His nostrils flared, and his fingers curled.

"If all this is true… then what do you want from me?"

"After the palace, you go to the council of pantheon leaders," Vidar replied. "As the head of Egypt. There we will help each other. Thanks to me, you will enter Ragnarok and restore your reputation." He paused and added: "I have some… knowledge of your true power. I believe: you can secure the first victory for the gods."

Vidar once again gazed into the void-that place he always looked at when he fell silent-and then shifted his gaze to Ra. The sun god stood motionless, and a flame slowly kindled in his eyes.

Palace of the Egyptian Pantheon

The Egyptian palace soared toward the heavens like a gigantic pyramid. In the light of the setting sun, its facets shimmered with bloody gold. Ra walked through the familiar corridors, and with every step, the spark of anger in his eyes burned brighter. He muttered an ancient incantation, and a secret door swung open-just as it had a thousand years ago.

The inner hall opened before him. Ptah-ancient, wizened, but clad in ceremonial robes-was making his way surrounded by Bastet, Sekhmet, Hathor, and Isis. They carried fans and trays of incense. And behind their backs, where images of Ra had once adorned the walls, now hung frescoes bearing the face of Ptah.

[Ptah, head of the Egyptian pantheon]

Ptah froze first. His mouth fell open. The goddesses, one by one, turned around-and their faces twisted in horror.

"R-Ra…" Ptah stammered. "I… I can explain everything…"

The goddesses, without a word, collapsed to their knees. Their heads pressed to the floor.

"Forgive us, O Great One! Forgive us!"

Ra did not listen. He looked past them-at where his images had been replaced by another's. Slowly, without uttering a word, he stepped toward Ptah. Ptah retreated, holding out trembling hands.

Ra struck. A single blow-sharp, without a backswing, straight to the gut. He did not even glance into the usurper's eyes. His fist passed right through, and Ptah's body began to crumble, turning into cosmic green dust that settled on the marble floor and melted into the air.

Ra turned to the prostrate goddesses. His voice thundered so that the walls of the pyramid shook:

"Who is worthy of the title Unstoppable?!"

"Only Ra! Only you!" the goddesses wailed in chorus, not daring to raise their eyes.

Hall of the Assembly of Pantheon Leaders

The Council of Pantheon Leaders was assembled. The round hall, illuminated by magical lamps, held those who decided the fates of the universe. Zeus sat at the head of the table, and beside him, as always, stood Hermes. Perun was positioned to his right.

[Lugh, head of the Celtic pantheon]

[Yu Huang, head of the Chinese pantheon]

[Amaterasu, head of the Japanese pantheon]

To his left-Shiva, arms folded across his chest, and Thor, grim and pensive.

"Has Izanagi truly not appeared since his disappearance? He usually always showed up to support his daughter," Perun asked, lowering his voice, addressing Yu Huang.

Yu Huang merely shook his head.

"It seems so. Not a word, not a trace."

Zeus turned to Hermes.

"Where are the Egyptians? And the others?"

"Egypt is delayed," Hermes reported, checking his scroll. "The rest, as usual, ignored the invitation."

"All the better," Zeus smirked. "That way I can squeeze more of my favorites onto the list."

He was about to declare the meeting's agenda when the door swung open. Vidar entered the hall. Forseti loomed behind him, but as soon as he met the gazes of the pantheon leaders, he paled, muttered something unintelligible, and hastily retreated.

Thor nodded approvingly to his brother. Vidar took a place at the table, and his colorless eyes swept over those assembled.

"Take a seat," Zeus said with a smirk. "Have you, perchance, seen the leader of Egypt?"

Vidar gazed into the void-that very void he always looked into-and then shifted his gaze to Zeus.

"I have another proposal."

And at that very moment, the door burst open again with a crash. Ra stood on the threshold. Triumph blazed in his eyes.

"I have missed this building!" he thundered, entering. "The invincible head of Egypt has returned home!"

A shadow of a smile flickered across Vidar's face for a single brief second. He nodded calmly to Ra.

The reaction of those assembled was eloquent. Yu Huang wearily closed his eyes, and his face read: "Not this clown again." Amaterasu sighed and muttered aloud:

"Damn, that fool has woken up… And Vidar is behind him…"

Thor looked at his brother with curiosity, but his expression clearly showed he knew nothing about this. Shiva, who had been sitting with a gloomy look, first widened his eyes in amazement, then grinned widely, stifling laughter. Lugh pursed his lips with interest. He was truly eager to hear what the silent god had to say.

Zeus jumped up. His voice roared with thunderous peals:

"You!" he jabbed a finger at Vidar. "I won't allow it! I won't allow you to ruin Ragnarok with your idiotic ideas! And I won't allow Ra to take anyone's place!"

Shiva lazily raised his hand.

"I don't mind if Ra takes my spot. I have no intention of participating in the second Ragnarok. Nor will anyone from the Hindu pantheon."

Vidar shifted his gaze into the void, then back to the assembled. When he spoke, his mechanical voice cut through the tension:

"The idea of a Ragnarok deciding humanity's fate for eternity-is mine. And it is for me to decide who will fight." He paused. "Perhaps we lost last time because you, Zeus, bet on showmanship and flashiness rather than on more complex fighters." And then he added, without changing his tone: "But I do not doubt your leadership over the other gods."

Zeus, already ready to explode, slightly loosened his grip on the armrests of his throne. The last words clearly pleased him.

"I propose a wager," Vidar continued. "Ra goes out first. If he wins-I become the leader of the gods' fighters. I coordinate everything. If he loses-you do whatever you wish."

Zeus burst out laughing.

"I see no point in arguing over power when the power is already mine!"

"Are you afraid?" Vidar asked.

Zeus's laughter grew louder, more booming. He leaned back on his throne and slammed his palm on the table so hard that the tabletop cracked.

"You are a fool, Vidar, if you think I'll fall for such cheap manipulation!" He abruptly stopped laughing. "And an even bigger fool if you think I disagree. Every idea of yours, every challenge-is already accepted." He jabbed a finger at Vidar. "However, all responsibility will fall on you. Completely. Do you understand?"

Vidar closed his eyes. Pain flickered across his face. He slowly opened his eyes and nodded.

"Yes. I understand."

"Then I declare," Zeus thundered, rising. "The leaders' meeting is postponed. And possibly, it won't take place at all, if Ra wins and Vidar gets carte blanche to create the rosters!"

He cheerfully strode toward the exit. Hermes scurried alongside him, whispering something in his ear, and Zeus nodded.

When they left, Ra turned to Vidar and smirked:

"Surprised how you used me for your own gain. But remember, I am the unstoppable god, and you haven't found someone to control if you think you can manage me."

Vidar did not answer. At that moment, Thor approached him. His face was serious.

"We need to walk."

The two brothers walked through the corridors until they found themselves in a cozy park with a murmuring fountain. The trees here were covered in blossoms, and the air smelled of honey.

"I know: Ragnarok, for you, is merely a necessity for something greater," Thor said quietly. "I will support you. But, brother…" he placed a heavy hand on Vidar's shoulder. "Don't go too far. Do you hear me?"

"And don't tell me your plan," Thor added, removing his hand. "If I find out, I likely won't support you."

Vidar nodded. Then, as usual, he fixed his gaze on the void. Thor sighed and walked away, leaving him alone by the fountain.

Akashic Records

In the Akashic Records-the boundless repository of all fates and knowledge-a special, unearthly light reigned. Myriad files floated in the air. Göll stood at the central console, and next to her stood Spenta Armaiti and Zarathustra.

"Who is the person capable of fighting a god without a ring?" asked Zarathushtra. His eyes burned with curiosity.

Göll, without turning around, answered:

"I have been studying my sister's groundwork for a long time. This person… is unreliable. He is prideful, dangerous even to other humans. But he truly possesses the power of the gods themselves. Perhaps he is even situational, but I am ready for anything to win the very first battle."

She was sorting through the files, discarding hundreds upon hundreds. Finally, her hand stopped. The file cover displayed a pharaoh.

Zarathushtra leaned forward. His lips stretched into a villainous smile.

"I think I understand." He straightened up and said quietly, with grim triumph: "Today, the heavens will shake as never before. Truly, the rumors are true if he is capable of defeating a god without special power!"

Spenta Armaiti, looking at her companion's satisfied face, smiled slightly-softly, almost motherly.

Göll tapped the file and removed the hand with which she had previously covered the name. All other images dissipated, vanished into the air, and only one remained. On the cover, the pharaoh looked on proudly, staring into eternity.

The name read:

[Ramesses II, the greatest pharaoh of Egypt]

[THE GREATEST PHARAOH WILL CHALLENGE THE GODS!]

I have a current fic (The Rapture) which I have to do bur I made this so I wanna pawn it off to a fic author who doesn’t have a roster

Gods:
Khonshu
Serapsis
Okuninushi
Kane
Meghanada
Svarog
Yaldabaoth
Huitzilpochitli
Marduk
Ryujin
Ullr
Begtse
Supay

Humanity:
Benkei
Cadmus
Ernest Shackleton
Bodhiharma
Genghis Khan
Daedalus
Hua Mulan
Yuri Gagarain
Palamedes
Asclepius
Saladin
Arrhichion
Alexander The Great

Simply dm me if you want it because I can’t write it