The silence after the storm is always the loudest.
Thor and I stood among the corpses of gods and monsters. Smoke curled in lazy spirals into the sky, which was neither day nor night—a bruised purple, heavy with ash and magic. Lightning still arced along the ruined battlefield, the residual fury of the thunder god's wrath. My lungs pulled in smoke and regret. I exhaled.
I didn't speak. Didn't move. Just watched the horizon where Zeus and Odin clashed like the final titans of a dying age. Their battle was poetry written in catastrophe—every bolt of lightning or swing of Gungnir threatening to split the world in half.
I sank to the ground with a grunt, crossing one leg over the other. The weight in my chest pressed harder than the weight of any blade. My joints ached. My thoughts were loud. My will was low.
"You look like hell," Thor muttered.
"I'm starting to think I never left," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck.
There was a pause. The kind that only came between warriors who had spent too much time fighting and not enough time healing.
Thor reached into the satchel slung over his shoulder and pulled something out, wrapped in cloth. At first, I didn't care. But when he extended it to me, and I took it, the shape beneath the fabric struck a chord in my bones.
I unwrapped it slowly.
Caliburn.
Golden light, dimmed, but not broken. It hummed faintly, like it had been waiting. I stared at it, not quite believing it was real.
"Odin wanted it destroyed," Thor said, eyes fixed on the horizon. "But I thought the one who wielded it should decide its fate."
I gave a quiet laugh—dry, bitter, amused at the absurdity of it all. "How very unlike you."
"I guess war changes us."
"No," I said. "It just peels away the parts we pretended weren't there."
We sat in silence, the only sound the distant, godly thunder of Zeus and Odin trying to kill each other.
"What's your plan?" Thor finally asked.
"Plan?" I scoffed. "I haven't had a real plan since the Second Age. I've been improvising ever since."
"You're going to need more than improvisation to stop Odin."
"I know."
He stood. Looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll tell the rest of the Norse to retreat. We're done here. Let Asgard live to see another dawn."
Something in me cracked.
I lifted my hand and snapped.
The shadows responded like an old friend. From the curling darkness stepped Thanatos, my ever-faithful servant. His tattered cloak trailed behind him like a funeral shroud. The mask he wore—smooth, porcelain white—was cracked at the edges. He bowed.
"My lord."
"Tell everyone," I said. "It's over. Get the Olympians out. Take the wounded to the Underworld. Anyone who can't fight, anyone who wants peace—bring them to safety."
He inclined his head once, then vanished like mist, leaving only the smell of cypress and the whisper of death.
I stood, joints popping, bones protesting. Gods aren't meant to grow old, but I felt every century tonight.
I extended a hand to Thor. "Good luck."
He took it, firm and unflinching. "To you as well, Hades. Don't let him break you."
"He already did."
Before he could respond, I shifted. My form dissolved into feathers and shadow, twisting upward into the sky. A raven once more.
The battlefield fell away beneath me, and I flew.
Toward the storm.
<--------------->
The skies above the battlefield were torn open by divine wrath. Odin's power was a maelstrom of runes and elemental fury, ancient and terrible. Zeus—no, Yahweh—burned with holy radiance, his golden light piercing even the darkest storm clouds. They clashed in midair, lightning against primal magic, holy fire against ancient spellcraft.
Odin shouted in Nordic, summoning spears of pure will, each one marked with ancient sigils that fed on the fear of mankind. Yahweh countered with his voice alone—when he spoke, the air obeyed. Galaxies trembled in the undertones of his judgment.
I watched from above as a raven, then dropped.
Feathers fell like ash.
I shifted in the blink of an eye and landed in my true form, Caliburn bursting to life in my grip, primordial flames licking its edge.
Odin turned to me, surprised for only a second before spitting rage.
"You again," he snarled. "I'm going to kill you, King of Worms!"
I didn't wait.
I slammed into him with a roundhouse kick that cracked the sound barrier. The All-Father was sent hurtling into the ground below, creating a crater so deep it swallowed the ruins of a forgotten temple.
I landed beside Yahweh. He gave me a look—half-surprise, half something like respect.
"You're late," he said.
"I brought the blade."
"About time you came back."
I nodded. "Thanks for holding the line."
He shrugged. "I didn't want that thing ruling our lands."
The earth shook.
Odin rose, roaring with fury. "You arrogant bastards! You think you can stand against me? I am the son of Borr and one of the Creation gods! Hell I killed my damn brothers! I am a Primordial god, there is nothing that you can do to stop me!"
He raised Gungnir, and the heavens wept lightning.
Then we charged.
Yahweh vanished in a flash of gold-scorched light, reappearing behind Odin like a judgment made flesh. He drove a beam of divine essence through the All-Father's shoulder, the strike pure and brilliant. Odin roared, spinning with Gungnir already raised—just in time for me to meet him head-on.
Caliburn crashed against his spear, the clash sounding not like metal but like the death cry of a collapsing sun.
And then—
A voice boomed across the fractured battlefield, loud and theatrical. "Seriously? You two thought you'd start the party without me?"
Poseidon appeared next to us, appearing from some mist. Odin's next strike—meant for Yahweh's back—was intercepted mid-swing by Poseidon's trident, sparks and steam exploding from the collision.
"About time," I muttered.
He winked. "What? You miss me?"
Yahweh cracked the barest grin. "Yes, and yet you are late like usual."
Poseidon snarled playfully. "Fashionably. Now let's kill the bastard."
Yahweh ascended like a blazing comet, wings spread wide across the heavens. A cathedral of halos bloomed around him, radiant and humming with divine resonance. From their spinning rings, spears of holy light rained down like judgment incarnate, each one screaming through the air with righteous fury as they honed in on Odin.
Beside me, Poseidon raised his trident high, eyes storm-lit. He swept his arm through the air like a conductor of calamity. The clouds above twisted violently, folding into themselves—until they became a roiling sea suspended in the sky. With a thunderous crack, the ocean above gave way. A skyborne tsunami crashed downward, a towering wall of ancient water, salt, and rage aimed to drown even a god. The earth cracked and groaned beneath its presence.
I snarled and dug my feet into the sundered stone, pain lancing through my ribs. My fingers clawed the air. Flames the color of dying stars—primordial fire, violet and blue—swirled around my body, forming a whirling inferno that howled like a beast.
Then, with a roar from my core, I cast my hand forward.
A tornado of abyssal flame fell from the sky like a divine comet, spiraling down and merging mid-air with Poseidon's tsunami and Yahweh's rain of light. Steam and light exploded outward in all directions as the three forces combined—a fusion of judgment, sea, and deathless flame.
It surged toward Odin, crackling, alive, tearing apart the land with every passing second. The ground split. The clouds were ripped from the sky.
But Odin did not flinch.
Instead, he started muttering silently as runes appeared all around him. Glowing in a multitude of colors as they seemed to merge into the storm itself. Than with a simple slam of his spear into the ground the runes exploded
And our combined attack—vanished, just like that!
Gone. Not repelled. Not blocked.
Obliterated.
The explosion that followed shattered the air, knocking all three of us back. My ears rang. My body screamed. My hope dimmed.
And Odin stepped forward, untouched, runes still glowing across his skin.
Caliburn gleamed dark in my grip. I leapt into the fray, swinging at Odin's throat.
He twisted—but not fast enough. My blade caught him beneath the jaw and carved through the illusion of time around his body. The wound didn't bleed blood—it bled seconds, leaking them like sand from a broken hourglass.
Time fractured.
Odin snarled and retaliated with a whisper—a curse older than the Norse tongue. My ribs shattered inward. I collapsed, breathless, stars blooming in my vision. Next I knew runes were dancing up my body as I could feel my power weaken as I felt so powerless.
But Odin didn't relent and with a cry that split the sky, Odin unleashed a single rune... a rune that erupted from his very being and it imploded as waves of divinity blasted through us. All color vanished. Sound inverted. My breath caught in my throat.
Yahweh conjured a multitude of domes of radiant shields, but they shattered like glass. Poseidon was faster—barely. A wall of ocean surged forward to intercept the blast—but the rune carved through it, splitting the sea apart like paper. They were so busy trying to stop the blasts that they didn't notice Odin rushing toward them.
Yahweh went down, a wound torn through his chest, ichor of gold spilling from his side. His halo flickered and shattered, his wings were tattered and one of the wings covering his eyes was ripped out the wound bleeding but revealing his golden eyes as he stared toward Odin who rushed to Poseidon and swung his spear like a bat that had connected to Posiedons chest.
Poseidon had taken the full force. His body was flung across the plain, crashing into stone and ash. He didn't rise, his trident lay on the floor and it was flickering as it looked as if it was losing its power.
I felt it—the death knell ringing softly in the back of my head. I knew that the two of them were fading. And all in all I really didn't know what to do.
I looked down at my hands—shaking, bleeding, fire still crawling up my forearms. The Primordial Flame licked the corners of my vision, I could feel myself panic, this wasn't going how I had wanted. I had lost my wife and now I am about to lose my brothers and everything else.
And Odin… Odin smiled.
"Two down," he said, voice crackling with stolen power. "One left."
Odin was coming.
His boots thundered across the scorched battlefield, the weight of a thousand ages pressing behind each step. The runes on his arms glowed like burning iron, his breath trailing frost and fire. I couldn't move—my body locked in place from exhaustion, from fear, from the unbearable weight of what was to come.
Then, a crack of light.
Divine lightning tore the sky open, striking Odin square in the chest.
He roared—not in pain, but in frustration—as he was flung backwards, crashing through mountains of ruined stone. The heavens above split in response, echoing with the voice of creation itself.
Yahweh appeared beside me, shoulders trembling. His robes were torn, his golden eyes dimmed. He was dragging Poseidon—limping, broken, still bleeding ink-black ichor—his arm slung over Yahweh's shoulder like a dying soldier returning from war.
"Get up," Yahweh growled at me.
"I—"
I didn't even know what I was trying to say. That I was tired? That I was terrified? That I was already grieving for them?
Yahweh didn't wait. His fist cracked across my face like thunder.
It hurt.
"Get your shit together, Hades." His voice was hoarse, but furious. "You are the eldest. You are stronger than both of us. You are powerful and brilliant, I didn't want to accept it back then but it is the truth."
I staggered, blinking away stars.
"I—What are you saying?" I muttered.
He let go of Poseidon, who slumped to the ground, and looked me dead in the eyes. "Poseidon told me about Odin. He's been watching him for years. And we've been talking. In secret."
Poseidon wheezed from the ground, a trail of ichor sliding down his chin. "Told him... you were the only one who could finish this. Always were."
Yahweh nodded slowly. "The world doesn't need us anymore, brother. It needs you. A new king. One who understands the light, the sea, and the dark. One who doesn't need to imitate the old ways, because he is the new."
My heart was hammered. "No—No, you can't just leave me here. What about Heaven? What about your angels? Your people?" I turned to Poseidon, voice cracking. "What about Triton? Your wife?"
Poseidon gave a bitter, broken laugh. "Triton's stronger than I ever was. He'll lead the seas well. My wife... she knew this would happen."
Yahweh stepped forward, his face gentler now, lined with something deeper than exhaustion—peace. "Do not worry, my people already know what is going to happen."
I shook my head. Tears burned behind my eyes. "You can't—You can't leave me."
Yahweh reached down, grabbed my hand.
Poseidon, struggling, reached for the other.
"We're not leaving you," Poseidon rasped.
"We're becoming one with you," Yahweh said.
Their hands closed around mine.
Their hands closed around mine.
And then—
We danced.
It began slowly, almost uncertain—three men, gods, brothers, battered by war and time, standing in the ruin of the world they once ruled. The wind howled, the battlefield stilled. And in that silence, we moved.
Poseidon stepped forward first, circling me, dragging his hand through the air like he was tracing the edge of a wave. With each movement, mist rose from his fingertips, spiraling around our feet. He pivoted, spun—his arm extended, his trident dissolving into liquid light as he reached out and tapped my shoulder.
I turned.
Yahweh caught me.
His hand gripped mine and he twirled me beneath his arm, a gleam of light trailing from our fingertips like a comet tail. As I rose, he stepped into me, pressing his forehead against mine. Our breath mingled—fire and storm and divinity. He stepped back just as Poseidon slid in again, their motions flowing like tides and time.
We moved together.
In circles.
In symbols.
Like runes.
Poseidon clapped his hands—thunder cracked—and droplets of seawater froze in midair, orbiting around us like stars. Yahweh swept his arms wide, wings exploding from his back in radiant arcs of gold, light beams forming a sacred geometry that pulsed beneath our feet.
I—Hades—closed my eyes, and from my palms, Primordial Flame bloomed. Violet and blue, spiraling upward like two dragons, one from each arm. I thrust my hands toward my brothers and they caught the flames without fear.
We stepped forward, back, spun in unison. Our bodies were no longer our own—they were language. They were spellwork. They were rituals. Each movement was a memory—Atlantis. Eden. The First War. The day we were born.
And the day we would end.
Poseidon leapt, landed on one knee, then rose again with a tidal surge beneath his feet, sweeping his arms toward me. I mirrored him—only with fire and death. A spiral of black and purple rose behind me. Yahweh arced overhead, wings folded inward, then opened again—BOOM—as he dropped into our circle, bringing down pillars of light around us.
The battlefield vanished.
We were floating now—above reality.
A sphere of raw divinity encased us. The elements began to merge: ocean mist turning to clouds, clouds igniting into fire, fire shaped by radiant light, light grounded in shadow.
Poseidon and Yahweh locked hands. I stepped into their circle.
We spun one final time, together. Arms outstretched. Chests bared to the cosmos. Our steps fell into rhythm—not just with one another, but with the very best of creation. With each movement, the battlefield grew distant, like a dream we were stepping out of. Even the cries of war, the clash of blades and the screams of gods and monsters… they faded.
Only we remained.
The air thickened with power.
The sky cracked open, not with thunder, but with silence so complete it swallowed the stars. Divine light rained down. Abyssal fire rose up. And around us, a shell began to form—glowing veins of celestial energy weaving into a chrysalis, wrapping us like the first breath of the universe.
I felt their hands in mine, even as their forms dissolved completely into me.
Their thoughts lingered—Be strong. Be cruel when you must. Be merciful when you can. Protect the realms.
Their love. Their burdens. Their legacy.
The cocoon pulsed with gold, blue, and violet. It rose like a monument of destiny above the battlefield—untouchable, holy, terrifying.
And I— I couldn't hold on anymore.
The weight of it all pressed down, even as I rose higher. My knees buckled. My head spun.
The last thing I felt was the warmth of their arms pulling me close—one last embrace between gods who were brothers first.
And then—
Darkness.