CHAPTER 299: CHAPTER 57

The air in the grand, gilded throne room of the Egyptian Pantheon was thick with the intense, seething, and ancient animosity.

Ra, the Sun God, sat rigid upon his throne, his solar disk crown radiating suppressed fury.

His gaze was fixed, an absolute glare of incandescent hatred, upon the figure seated casually opposite him: Yahweh.

The Christian God appeared as a man of imposing, yet strangely quiet authority, his form glowing with a soft, unsettling inner light.

And Ra despised him with every fiber of his divine being.

It was Yahweh’s conquest, aided by the opportunistic siphoning of energy following the initial cosmic wound inflicted by the fragments of an Outer One, that had crippled the Egyptian Universe and initiated its long, agonizing decline.

"Shouldn’t you be in your Pantheon," Ra demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, "dealing with that pathetic little rebellion of that treacherous son of yours?"

Ra’s bitterness extended equally to the two key figures of the rebellion and the subsequent loyalist defense.

Michael was the face of their ultimate humiliation, the General who had orchestrated the decisive, crushing victory against the Egyptian legions.

And Lucifer—now Satan—was the one whose terrifying, unmatched power had inflicted the most damage and caused the highest casualties among the Egyptian forces during that dreadful war.

Yahweh acted as if Ra’s venomous words were the distant buzzing of a fly.

His expression remained serenely detached.

"That war," Yahweh replied, his voice a soft, pervasive melody that seemed to bypass the ears and resonate directly in the soul, "is progressing precisely as intended. A fragment of my awareness resides in Heaven, observing the necessary cleansing."

Ra scoffed, about to deliver another scathing retort regarding Yahweh’s hypocrisy, when the heavy silence of the throne room was abruptly shattered.

Thoth, the God of Wisdom and Scribe, scrambled through the massive bronze doors, his usual scholarly composure utterly abandoned.

"My Lord Ra! My Lord Ra, forgive my haste, but—Lord Hades has arrived!"

Thoth gasped, his eyes wide with a mixture of relief and intense trepidation regarding the being who now anchored an entire cosmos.

Ra’s fierce glare instantly vanished. His hatred for Yahweh, consuming moments before, evaporated like mist before the noon sun, replaced by a radiant surge of desperate, concentrated joy.

After all, Hades was not merely an honored guest; but was their salvation.

Ra immediately surged to his feet, dismissing all regal decorum. "Be quick, Thoth! Invite him in! Show him the greatest respect! Tell him the Egyptian Pantheon welcomes him as a savior!"

Thoth nodded frantically, spinning on his heel and rushing back out to escort the sovereign of the Hyperverse.

The few minutes that followed felt like hours to Ra, who paced the dais, trying to smooth the savage lines of fury from his face and replace them with dignified welcome.

Yahweh merely watched, an indiscernible expression of ancient knowing etched upon his features.

Just then, the moment finally arrived.

Thoth returned, preceding his announcement with a dramatic, booming projection of his voice, designed to carry the weight of the arrival.

"I present to you the Sovereign Anchor of the newly forged Hyperverse, the King of the Great Below, Lord of the Dead, and God of the Underworld—Hades!"

The colossal bronze doors swung open on silent hinges.

Hades finally stepped into the light of the throne room.

He was a commanding figure, his stature now infused with the silent, immense gravity of his new status.

He wore a simple, elegant black Greek toga with rich gold accents, a sartorial choice that somehow emphasized his authority more than any heavy armor ever could.

Upon his head rested the crown forged long ago by the Hundred Ones, an ancient circlet that, like his body, had been profoundly upgraded by the Hyperverse’s power and was finally no longer useless.

It was no longer a mere divine weapon, but an emblem of cosmological reality.

Ra immediately descended from his throne, meeting Hades halfway across the floor, extending a hand in a gesture of profound respect and negotiation.

"Lord Hades, welcome to our failing, yet beautiful, universe," Ra said, his voice imbued with sincerity.

Hades nodded, his purple eyes assessing him and the romm, before he returned the handshake firmly.

"Lord Ra. Thank you for the gesture. Now, why don’t we discuss the terms of your universe’s transition."

Hades then straightened, his keen eyes sweeping the room, registering the presence of another deity.

His gaze fixed upon the serene, quiet man sitting patiently in the corner—Yahweh.

Hades’ brow rose, an expression of immediate, sharp recognition crossing his features.

He knew every major player, every powerful entity, and every cosmic boundary. And this was a being he should not, logically, be able to identify easily, but he did.

The being was not radiating the power signature of a standard pantheon leader. Instead, He radiated an absolute Transcendent power.

And Hades can tell, this being was no god, but something more.

Hades looked at Ra, then back at the figure, his lips tightened, and he spoke, his voice dropping in tone, heavy with realization.

"You are not a god," Hades stated, bypassing titles and identities.

His eyes held the deep, certain knowledge granted by anchoring reality itself. "You are the Heart of the Universe given form...but, how is that possible?"

The figure, Yahweh, offered a quiet, serene nod, acknowledging Hades’ profound insight.

His inner light seemed to pulse softly, confirming the truth of Hades’ immediate assessment.

"Indeed, Lord Hades," the being replied, his voice a gentle symphony of cosmic vibrations.

He raised his hand in a gesture of respect, not subservience. "I greet you, the Anchor of Reality. As you have guessed, I am not a deity forged by worship or primal force, but the consciousness and core energy of the Christian Universe, the Heart if you will. You may know me as Yahweh, the Creator."

Hades maintained his intense gaze. The weight of his new authority pressed upon him, making every decision a matter of universal consequence.

So obviously, he cannot be casual about this. After all, this a Heart who have already formed an ego, who knew if he suddenly decided that he doesn’t want to fuse and cause trouble.

That would be dangerous.

So he immediately cut straight to the core of the issue.

"If you are the Heart, then you understand the cost of assimilation," Hades stated, his voice flat and absolute. "I did not merely integrate the Greek and Norse realms; I absorbed and fused with their fundamental cores to establish the Hyperverse’s anchor. If I am to assimilate another cosmos, I must fuse with its Heart as well."

Yahweh’s expression remained untroubled, even accepting. "I foresaw this from the moment your plan was set in motion, Lord Hades. And I understand completely. To fuse my Universe with the Hyperverse, I, as its Heart, must be absorbed and fused into you. I will disappear. My essence will become a part of your own infinite complexity, solidifying your role as the ultimate sovereign."

A heavy silence descended upon the grand hall.

Ra watched the exchange, his initial fierce hatred of Yahweh temporarily eclipsed by the sheer, terrifying gravity of the impending cosmic sacrifice.

"Then why?" Hades asked, a flicker of professional curiosity crossing his features. "Why consent to erasure? Your legions are powerful, and your universe, though damaged, still holds together."

Yahweh sighed, a sound like wind moving through vast, empty spaces. "Because this is the only path to the survival of my children. My universe is already too weak to withstand the next great wave of the Outer Ones. To remain separate is to guarantee their eventual death, while joining the Hyperverse is to grant them an eternal future within your boundless stability."

He paused, allowing the weight of his sacrifice to settle. "However, If I may, I wish to ask for a small favor, Lord Hades, before I yield my existence."

Hades nodded, granting the courtesy. "Very well. Ask away."

Yahweh’s focus turned inward, toward the distant, shattered realm of Heaven where the civil war raged.

A rare shadow of profound, ancient sorrow touched his features.

"The child you know as Lucifer, now Satan," Yahweh requested, his voice regaining its pleading, melodic tone. "He is not evil; he is simply misguided, broken by the perception of my own inadequacy. He is consumed by a despair and tries to mask it with ambition. With your power, he can pose no genuine threat to you or the Hyperverse. Therefore, I ask you to spare that child. Do not destroy him. Confine him, restrain him, yes—but preserve his existence."

Yahweh then offered the final, immense offering that solidified the transaction. "In exchange for that mercy, I have already issued my final command across all of Heaven. When I am gone, when my essence is absorbed into you, my loyal angels—the entirety of the remaining Choirs—will bow to you, Lord Hades, and serve you as their new King of Heavens. Their allegiance will be absolute, adding their vast power and knowledge to your command."

The offer was staggering, causing even Ra to widen his eyes in shock.

The loyalist forces of the Christian Pantheon—Michael, the Seraphim, and their legions—were a colossal, organized, and powerful host.

Their voluntary surrender and allegiance would make Hades the undisputed lord of an exponentially larger, multi-dimensional empire, and all without the cost of war.

Hades stared at the being, assessing the sincerity.

The Heart of the Universe was not lying; the desire to save his creation, even at the cost of his own identity, was absolute.

The promise of the angelic armies, commanded by the very voice of their Creator, was guaranteed.

The Lord of the Underworld finally gave his assent. "Your request is accepted, Yahweh. Your price for the survival of your children is paid. I promise to spare Lucifer. He will be restrained and contained, but he will not be destroyed."

Yahweh smiled, before nodding and taking a step back.

Hades then turned, his attention snapping back to the Sun God who had been a silent witness to this cosmic pact.

"Lord Ra," Hades said, the immense power of his voice now encompassing the entire Egyptian realm, demanding full attention. "The most complex negotiation is complete. Your universe requires swift integration before its total decay. Shall we begin the process of assimilation now?"