The war was over.
I could taste it—sweet, heavy with finality. My boots crushed charred marble and molten earth as I strode across the ruined land of Greece. The battlefield groaned beneath my feet like it knew the end was nigh.
My fingers twitched around Gungnir's absence. I didn't need it. Not anymore.
I was going to kill Hades with my bare hands.
The sky bled gold and black. Smoke curled up from the bones of this fallen world. So much death. So much glorious silence. Soon it would all belong to me. The land, the gods, their children, their mortal hopes and prayers—all of it mine.
"Come, eldest son," I whispered. "Let me end your suffering."
He stood ahead, slouched, still, too still. Broken, I thought. Good. I wanted him to see me—know it was me—when I caved in his skull.
I smiled.
But then the heavens tore open.
A blast of light, white-hot and seething, carved across the sky and slammed into me like a comet. I flew.
My body spiraled through the stratosphere, cracking through mountain peaks, crashing into lakes that hissed with the heat of my fall. The world turned upside down and back again before I finally hit the earth, coughing, gasping, fury sizzling in my chest.
Lightning. Divine. Unmistakable.
Yahweh.
I rose to my feet, blood dribbling down my lips. My jaw throbbed, bones mending with sharp snaps. My fury was volcanic. I hadn't felt pain like that in eons.
"You bastard…" I hissed. "You're still alive?"
I vanished into the wind, tearing across the sky like a scream, a blur of rage racing back toward the battlefield.
But what I saw when I arrived—wasn't a battlefield.
It was a ritual.
No—something deeper. Older.
There, in the eye of a ruined land, the three brothers danced.
I stood on the edge of the clearing, invisible for a breath, watching them. Mesmerized. Confused.
Yahweh, battered and bleeding, moved with divine grace. His golden hair fell in waves, and his wings—those small folded feathers shielding his eyes—flared outward, spinning him into Poseidon's rhythm. The sea god, lanky and limping, twirled around him with a loose elegance, tattoos glowing across his chest and arms, his movements like flowing tides. Hades… Hades, the dark prince of death, moved with a warrior's rigidity, sharp and focused, yet there was grief in each step. Fire and shadow swirled around his body, his long black hair fanning with each motion, his eyes shining with mourning and wrath.
They weren't just dancing. They were merging.
Power sang between them, rippling through the air, fracturing time and space. Divine threads lashed out—gold, ocean-blue, obsidian black—and twisted into one another. They spun, lifted, held each other. Light flared as halos orbited them like moons. Their very divinities wept and embraced.
A sob caught in my throat—and I didn't know why.
Then their hands locked together.
And the world shook.
Their bodies rose into the air, still entwined, spinning faster and faster until light devoured them whole. Wings of every kind—angelic, aquatic, infernal—exploded outward, shielding them. And from that light, a great cocoon of divine essence formed. White and gold and deepest night, covered in spiraling runes and flowing with sacred fire, pulsed like a heartbeat.
I took a step back.
"What… is this?" I breathed.
I felt it then—raw power. Deep, ancient, Primordial.
This was no longer Hades.
It was something else.
The cocoon trembled. Then—bulged.
A hand slammed against the inside, trying to claw out.
Then another.
And another.
And a fourth.
My heart skipped. I summoned Gungnir to my palm, armor wrapping around me in a flash of cold silver and emerald steel. Runes lined my arms, glowing, primed. I felt it. A threat. The kind I hadn't faced since the beginning of all things.
The cocoon rose, floating high into the sky like a rising godstar.
And then—
It tore open.
First came a cascade of wings—ten massive, angelic wings that extended across the clouds, casting golden and violet light down on the land. Then came the being.
He ripped through the cocoon like a storm given flesh.
He descended, slow, his four arms outstretched, molten light spiraling around him like a newborn sun. A mane of black hair streaked with white crowned his head, flowing wild, framing his inhumanly serene yet furious face. His skin was pale like Hades, but streaked with Poseidon's markings and gilded in Yahweh's holy glow.
His eyes… I couldn't see them.
Four wings, like sacred veils, curved from his temples, folding over his face like an eternal blindfold, pulsing with light. But I felt his gaze. And it saw everything.
Behind his head, a massive golden halo burned, spinning slowly with runic glyphs from every known pantheon.
Golden rings adorned his four arms, humming with energy. His presence bent gravity. Storms halted. The sea was still. Time held its breath.
I took an involuntary step back.
The being—no… this new god—lowered one arm. Before him, the divine weapons of the three young gods rose and they hovered around him like loyal beasts. Then, without touching them, they melted into rivers of divine metal and converged midair, swirling and hammering themselves into a single form: a massive glaive, the weapon itself seemed to be made of gold. It was adorned with golden rings though the handle, the pommel at the bottom was a thick ring with a spear blade. The blade was huge and curved and almost looked like it had fangs. The metal was black and seemed to have these veins of gold and silver in it.
The god caught it.
And I knew—without question—
I was no longer fighting a mere god.
This was a being born from the combined soul and divinity of the three brothers. The New God King of All. He was no longer the three and yet he was still them.... yet now he was no longer a mere god.
The birth of a new, Primordial.
The question was who was the primary soul,
"Impossible…" I whispered.
He looked down at me. The wings shielding his face lifted slightly. And I saw—
Golden flame in one eye.
Blue abyss in the other.
And they wept.
For the world.
For us.
For me.
Then his voice echoed—not just through the air, but through the very fabric of my soul:
"Your reign ends here, Odin."
And I, Odin Borson, the Allfather, the Mad God of Runes, felt—for the first time in eternity—
Fear and regret.
He didn't move at first.
He simply hovered, wings spread wide, halo blazing like a sun at dawn. The glaive rested across his shoulders, each of his four hands at ease, one trailing divine fire, another dripping seawater, the third glowing with judgment, the last clenched in stillness.
I launched the first strike.
Gungnir screamed through the air, faster than sound, inscribed with every rune I knew. Time itself fractured to carry it forward.
He raised a hand.
The spear stopped midair, shuddered—and snapped in half like a twig. The pieces fell to ash before they hit the ground.
I blinked.
Then he was gone.
No—he was everywhere.
Fists slammed into my ribs, my jaw, my spine. Four blows landed in the time it took me to gasp. Each one shattered the air. I flew backward, skipping across the earth like a stone, smashing through ruined temples and hills.
Blood ran hot in my mouth. My nose was broken. Ribs crushed.
I stood. Roared. Cast the Rune of Eternal Flame and summoned the Blades of Ginnungagap.
He walked through them. Not dodging—walking through them, as if they didn't matter.
One hand reached out and ripped the magic from the air, snuffing it like a candle.
I screamed, unleashing ancient power. Ragnarok incarnate. Storms, serpents, cosmic fire.
He opened a pair of wings.
All of it vanished.
Not deflected—erased.
Then he was in front of me again.
The glaive descended.
It cleaved through the mountain behind me, the land splitting with a thunderous groan. I raised a barrier.
He shattered it with a flick of his fingers.
Another hand struck my chest and stopped my heart for a breath. Another grabbed my face and slammed it into the dirt, dragging me across the ground as mountains trembled beneath us. A fourth hand lifted me by the throat.
I was the Allfather.
But in his grasp, I was small.
I clawed at him, roared in every tongue, summoned the World Tree itself in a desperate, last attack.
He snapped his fingers—and unmade the roots.
I fell.
I fell into the ground, into ruin, into pain.
Bones shattered. Muscles tore. My divine blood pooled around me like spilled wine. My runes sputtered and blinked out one by one.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I was… losing.
I looked up—teeth broken, body ruined. My vision blurred.
And he stood above me.
Silent. Radiant. Eternal.
"Mercy…" I croaked. The word tasted like ash. "I yield… I submit. Please…"
He didn't respond at first. The wind whispered around his wings. The glaive spun in his hand and then stilled. The Primordial being was silent for a while before he spoke.
"You will not die this day, Odin Borson."
His wings slowly lowered, his face now fully visible. The gold and blue eyes—blazing with divine light—peered into mine.
"You will suffer."
He turned slightly, and the storm clouds churned with his breath. The sky itself bent to hear his words.
"You will be punished for every sin. Every child burned in your name. Every world is crushed beneath your ambition. You will live to see the dawn you tried to erase. And you will know regret for as long as your broken mind can hold it."
I shuddered. Blood spilled from my lips.
Then I whispered, "…Who… are you?"
He tilted his head.
And then smiled.
Not with warmth. Not with cruelty.
"I am Hades…" he said softly, voice like a hymn and a blade all at once. "No…"
The halo behind his head flared, and the very fabric of the world rippled with his next words.
"I am Aidonus. The Primordial God of... Reality. I am everything that was, is, and will be."
<-------------------->
The throne groaned beneath me as if Olympus itself strained to contain what I had become.
I wasn't just Hades anymore, I was now one with my brothers and I couldn't believe that they had sacrificed themselves for me. Sighing I leaned against my throne, I could feel the tension—crackling like thunder—through the divine air. My four wings folded gently before my face, sacred veils shielding all but my voice. I did not yet look upon them.
Not until they understood.
The hall was full. To my left sat the Olympians, remnants of what once was. Zagreus fidgeted, glancing toward Melinoë who sat still as a grave. Abellona gleamed with solar fire beside Artemis, both silent. Hera looked regal and unreadable. Aeolus whispered something to Demeter, while Hestia kept her gaze on me, warm and firm. Ares, bruised and triumphant, leaned back with Aphrodite at his side. She, radiant as the dawn, had only just reappeared to fight beside him.
To my right, the two sides: Norse and Celtic. The All-Father Odin, sullen and drained of his former grandeur, stood at the head of his kin. Freyja was silent, glaring at the floor. Tyr stood as if carved from stone, his hand resting on the pommel of a sword he no longer wished to draw. Thor—eyes sharp, arms crossed—watched me not with fear, but anticipation.
The Celts were quieter. The Dagda, staff in hand, stood firm. Brigid gave me a slight nod. Lugh, with a bandaged arm and narrowed eyes, said nothing. They knew this was not merely a trial.
This was a transformation.
I rose.
My four arms spread wide, rings glinting like stars. My wings unfurled, the golden halo behind me flaring to brilliance. Glyphs from all pantheons shimmered in the air, alive and watching.
"Olympians. Norse. Celts," I said, my voice echoing not just in Olympus, but in every divine hall across the realms. "This war has ended. But peace is not simply the absence of bloodshed—it is the foundation upon which a new world is built."
I stepped down from the throne. Each footstep echoed like a hammer of judgment.
"I am no longer the Hades you knew. Nor the Zeus that reigned above, nor the Poseidon who ruled the depths. Their souls remain in me—echoes of thunder, sea, and shadow. But they gave up what they were to forge something new. Not a god of Olympus."
My wings wrapped behind me like a cape.
"A god of Reality itself."
Silence fell like a guillotine.
I lifted my head, unveiling my eyes. One golden, like the sun through eternity. The other a churning tempest of violet and blue—primordial flame.
"You may call me Aidonus."
Gasps, murmurs, and stunned expressions rippled across the chamber. Odin took a step forward, his voice bitter. "And what judgment, Aidonus, does reality render upon those who fought you?"
I raised my hand.
"Not destruction. Evolution."
I turned, looking first to the Norse gods.
"You brought war. You challenged Olympus. You defied the balance of the cosmos. But you also fought to survive—to protect your realms. And though Odin twisted that purpose into ambition, the blood of your people was spilled with honor."
My golden ringed fingers closed into a fist.
"Thus, the Norse lands are now under the protection and guidance of the Aidonian Pantheon."
Odin opened his mouth to protest, but I raised my voice, cutting through him like the edge of Caliburn.
"You will no longer sit as God-King. That title is revoked. Your authority will be ceremonial. You will serve as Chief among your kin, but answer to Olympus, as a vassal—not a sovereign."
Odin bowed his head, bitterness thick on his tongue. I could feel it. He didn't protest. Not out of agreement—but out of resignation.
I turned to Thor.
His blue eyes met mine like a lightning bolt.
"Thor Odinson. You fought with honor. You stood for your people and sought only strength to protect them. For that, I grant you freedom."
His eyebrows lifted.
"Freedom?"
I smiled.
"To hunt giants. To fight without restraint. To be what you were always meant to be. No throne. No crown. Just thunder unleashed."
He whooped—actually whooped—and slammed Mjolnir against his chest. Freyja gave him a sideways look of amused disdain.
I turned.
The Celts met my gaze with quiet dignity. I saw in them no bitterness. Only patience.
"To the Tuatha Dé Danann," I said. "You did not seek this war. You were dragged into it. Your people did not cry for blood—they merely shielded their own. And for that... you remain sovereign."
The Dagda raised a thick brow.
"No punishment?"
I nodded.
"You will continue as you were. But under my protection. The Aidonian Pantheon will not erase you—it will preserve you. The Dagda shall remain Chief God of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Your culture and lands will remain your own, but you are now kin to Olympus. To me."
Brigid gave a quiet nod. Lugh relaxed slightly. I saw, for the first time since the battle, hope.
I turned back to the Olympians.
"And so this Pantheon—no longer merely Greek—shall be called the Aidonian Pantheon. A confluence of storm and flame, sea and soul, light and shadow."
My gaze fell to Aphrodite.
She met it, steady and beautiful beyond reason.
"Aphrodite."
"Yes?" she asked, her voice velvet.
"You answered the call. You returned when Olympus needed you. For that, I name you—officially—an Olympian."
Ares grinned. She smiled, radiant. The Olympians clapped, even Hera giving a polite nod. Hestia smiled warmly.
I returned to my throne.
"All of you... must learn to live as one. There will be clashes. There will be struggle. But from it will come something greater. A future where the divine no longer wars for petty crowns—but builds for something higher."
I opened my hands.
"New temples will be built in all pantheons. Shared worship. Shared halls. Shared truths. You will learn each other's languages. You will share myths and songs. You will intermarry. You will grow together."
My eyes swept across them all.
"This is not the end of the world. This is the end of how the world used to be."
From the ceiling, beams of celestial light poured down. My halo burned brighter. The glyphs around me spiraled faster.
"From this day forth," I said, voice a command that reshaped the heavens, "you are not Norse. Not Celt. Not Greek. You are divine. Aidonian. One."
And the hall erupted.
Some wept. Others shouted in victory. Some simply breathed for the first time in what felt like ages.
I sat.
And for the first time since my fusion—since Zeus and Poseidon gave up themselves to birth me—I allowed myself to feel.
Grief.
Joy.
Hope.
I think that this is the right path... First I shall build up my Empire and when the moment arrives I will take over the rest of the world, I shall bring all gods under my rule.
I shall become the God-Father.
The Almighty King of the Gods.