CHAPTER 277: CHAPTER 35

Hades took a long, steady breath, and as his eyes opened, the cosmos itself seemed to recoil, for in that instant, his Third Eye unfurled like a sun devouring the dark.

The boundless void ignited within his sight; and within that unblinking moment, he beheld everything, every trembling thread of creation, every ouer ones drifting through forgotten time, every universe flickering like sparks upon the breath of infinity, every timeline bleeding into its reflection, every hidden layer of dimensions stacked like glass upon glass...nothing escaped the reach of his gaze.

But omniscience was a crown too heavy for divine flesh or divine spirit alike; within seconds, agony like molten eternity split through his skull, a pain so absolute it clawed through the fabric of his being.

The weight of infinity pressed upon him, every truth, every lie, every paradox screaming to be known, tearing through thought, through meaning, through self, until, gasping as if to reclaim his own identity from the abyss, Hades snapped his Third Eye shut.

He exhaled slowly, his breath trembling like a storm passing through an unending night, and as his body steadied, his gaze turned toward the distant glimmer, the Nordic Universe, a fragile jewel suspended amid oceans of nothingness.

And without hesitation, his form blurred into motion, folding reality beneath his will, crossing the immeasurable gulf between universes like a shadow cast from one sun to the next.

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In the Nordic Universe, the whole realm was shrouded by the heavens.

Above the boundless expanse, where the fabric of reality frayed into the yawning black, the void remained open, a wound between existences, and from within that endless chasm, silence deeper than death spilled forth.

The gods of that world gazed upward, their immortal hearts beating in uneasy rhythm.

Hecate, her purple eyes shimmering like moonlight upon still water, could feel the chill of dread slithering through her soul.

She felt the fear that perhaps, beyond that darkness, her beloved had fallen to the incomprehensible hunger of the Outer One.

Yet beneath that terror, her faith, pure, unwavering, and radiant, burned like a candle that refused to die, and she stood firm, her gaze fixed upon the heavens, waiting for the return of the man whom she loves more than anything.

Nyx, shrouded in the quiet majesty of the night, was calmer still; her mind rippled with subtle tension, yet she hold faith that he will return.

Her faith was not born of hope, but because she knows far more than any others.

She knew how powerful Hades have become, and she knew that even if by the slim chance that he lost, the outer one would not be able to stop him from escaping .

Her lips curved faintly, the reflection of distant stars gleaming in her eyes as she waited patiently.

Hestia, standing above a broken pillar, gazed worriedly at the void. She knew her brother was powerful, but as the eldest sister, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying about her younger brother.

At this moment, far across the battlefield, Freya watched with trembling lips, whispering a name long buried within prophecy, "Odr..."

Her heart quaked, torn between devotion and dread, for she felt that the fate of her heart and the fate of creation itself were entangled in the man who was her Odr.

Odin, lord of wisdom, felt sweat trace the lines of his ancient brow, the weight of realization pressing upon his soul.

He understood what few dared to think, as the strongest god of the alliance, he knew that if Hades had fallen, the Divine Alliance would fracture like glass, and all creation would be left naked before the hunger of the void.

He clenched his staff, knuckles white, as if grasping the last thread that bound the cosmos together.

Beside him, Zeus and Poseidon stood in grim silence. They were not worried, not becase they don’t care about what happens to Hades, but because they didn’t know just how vastly superior the outer ones was.

They have seen Nyx conjuring an image of an outer one devouring a universe. But that’s it. They have seen many bigger monsters getting defeated by a mortal heroes.

Although they believed the outer ones were strong, they didn’t know just how strong.

They could not truly fathom the scale of what their brother had faced, they could not grasp what it meant to stand before an Outer One, due to that, neither of them harbored doubt.

Because though their rivalry ran deep and their pride deeper still, both shared an unspoken certainty: among gods and among all creations, none stood above Hades.

To them, he was not merely their brother, he was the pillar of the Greek Pantheon, the unshaken axis of creation, and though the heavens trembled and the void roared in silence, they believed, that Hades would return, wreathed not in defeat, but in the glory of triumph.

After all, he is the one they recognised as the strongest.

And then, as if summoned by the collective pulse of their faith, a figure emerged from the fathomless dark, descending with the quiet finality of a falling star, his form cloaked in shadows that rippled like living silk.

His dark mantle fluttered wildly against the cosmic winds, his silver hair glimmered with faint traces of the void’s dying light, and his amethyst eyes burned with a brilliance that seemed to pierce through the fabric of existence itself.

It was Hades.

For a moment, the infinite fell silent, as if the entire universe had paused in reverence, unsure whether to tremble or to bow.

Then, without a word, Hades turned toward the still-gaping wound in the sky, the endless void that howled between realities, and with the effortless grace of one who now commanded law itself, he raised a single hand.

The darkness shuddered, as if recoiling from his presence, and then it closed, folding in on itself until only the faint echo of silence remained, like the final note of a dying song.

Descending upon Helheim, the scorched land where the final battle against the Fragment had once unfolded, Hades’ feet touched the blackened soil as the realm itself began to shift.

The ground, once torn asunder, seemed to hum faintly beneath him, as though even the Underworld of Norse itself recognized Hades as its sovereign.

Hel felt her cheek twitched sensing her realm’s reverance to Hades.

While the universe was still silent, it was Odin who approached first, the Allfather, bearer of countless eons and infinite wisdom, yet now trembling as a mortal before something greater than them.

His voice, though strong, carried the tremor of disbelief as he asked, "...Did you win?"

Though within his heart, the answer already burned bright as dawn.

Hades merely smirked, a faint, knowing curl of the lips, and nodded.

And in that single motion, the world erupted.

A silence so profound that it seemed sacred was broken by a thunderous roar of applause and exultant cheers; the gods, warriors, and spirits who had watched in dread now released their held breath, their relief and joy bursting forth like floodgates.

Even Odin, usually so serious and solemn, threw back his head and laughed, a sound both weary and triumphant, the laugh of one who had feared the end and found deliverance instead.

Just then, Hades turned towards Hecate, but before words could form, she flung herself forward, her composure shattered by relief, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate, trembling embrace.

Her tears shimmered like starlight upon his cloak as she whispered his name.

Nyx, silent and graceful as night itself, stood a little apart, her eyes soft and gentle.

Yet, for the briefest instant, her gaze sharpened, her pupils narrowing, as if she felt something in him, something foreign still lingering within him, but seeing the joy that surged through the heavens, she swallowed her unease and let the moment live.

Then, with a voice like the rumble of the sky itself, Zeus stepped forward, laughter and lightning intertwined in his chest.

"With this victory!" he thundered, the air crackling around him, "A banquet is inevitable! Let us celebrate our survival! And praise and honor those who have perished to defend their home!

Almost immediately, Thor barked his own booming agreement, lightning leaping from his hammer as he shouted, "Aye! A banquet worthy of gods and heroes!"

He released a thunder louder than Zeys’, as if the storm itself joined in his revelry, overshadowing Zeus’ thunder watt for watt, echo for echo.

Zeus glared, and released an even more powerful lightning.

In the distance, Loki exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples, while Poseidon gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Children," they both muttered at once, voices laced with weary amusement.

They blinked, before catching each other’s glance, sharing a brief silence, and then, unexpectedly, they gave each other a smile.

Without another word, they fist-bumped, a rare spark of camaraderie between chaos and tide.

Finally, Odin raised his staff, his single eye gleaming like the sun upon gold, and declared, "Then let us return to Asgard, and let the heavens shake with our celebration!"

And with that proclamation, the sky itself resounded with thunderous approval, a roaring chorus of Greek and Norse alike, gods and spirits united in exultation.

Their voices rose together, shaking the firmament, their joy spilling across the cosmos like the sound of creation reborn, for their pillar had returned, their hope restored, and the shadow of oblivion, for now, driven back beyond the edge of eternity.