Elijah pointed at one of the shimmering images projected before him. "I choose this one."
The image revealed a cave, rough and imperfect in certain places, but far truer to the description than the other two. Eric, watching, could see the reasoning clearly.
"Very well," Helios replied.
The god extended his hand, and light gathered above his palm. A magic circle bloomed in the air, its patterns rotating with quiet grace. His golden eyes glowed as a scroll emerged from the light, descending into his grasp.
The scroll was no ordinary parchment. It was a divine pass, a seal of safe passage. Without it, Eric would be taken for a trespasser by the mountain's guardians and the cave's inhabitants, who would strike without hesitation.
Elijah pressed his hand to his chest and bowed deeply. "I offer my gratitude on behalf of my master. This servant takes his leave."
Helios inclined his head in silent acknowledgment and watched Elijah depart. When the chamber doors shut, he tilted his head, stretching his neck until a soft crack echoed through the room. Then, with a weary sigh, he returned to the mountain of scrolls and tablets awaiting his judgment.
*
*
*
Once again, the gods assembled within the grand halls of Keraunos Palace. The gathering was called to pass judgment on Irene and to hear the results of the latest investigations.
The palace itself remained unchanged, marble pillars still gleaming under the divine light, but the atmosphere was different. Even the most oblivious could sense it. The halls, once alive with chatter, were weighed down by silence. Talkative gods fidgeted uneasily, introverted ones shrank further into themselves, and the impatient tapped their feet as the moments dragged on.
Yet no one was more uncomfortable than Thales, who sat with Pyrros leaning lazily against his shoulder.
"O' Herrscher of Chaos," Thales muttered, pale-faced and drenched in sweat, "might I beg you not to lean on me?"
Pyrros slowly lifted his head, fixing Thales with a piercing gaze. He seized the god's chin with careless strength. "Did I ask for thy counsel? Nay." He flicked Thales' forehead with a sharp snap. "So hold thy tongue and endure me."
Thales whimpered, but said nothing more.
The silence did not last. Whispers soon stirred among the ranks of immortals.
"Have you heard of the Celestial Church?" one murmured, glancing around nervously.
His companion shielded his lips with his hand. "Was that not an infamous cult from ages past? I heard they claimed a priest—perhaps even a pope—was close to the Celestial Saint."
A nearby god snorted, barely restraining his laughter. "Close to her? That solitary wretch? Better comedians than devotees."
"True enough," another muttered. "That Saint of ours spares no thought for worship. She amuses herself by vexing His Majesty with her antics, making him cough blood more often than not—"
Their gossip died instantly as Michael strode past them, his solemn steps echoing down the hall. Where he went, silence followed. It was the signal that the trial was about to begin.
Behind him came Irene, her expression unreadable. And behind her—an unexpected figure.
The hood of his cloak slipped back, revealing a face so striking it might have been carved from marble, beautiful enough to disarm, yet too flawless to be trusted. A wolf concealed in lamb's guise.
One thought struck every mind at once.
Eric?!
Eric, the god whispered of in awe and fear. A being whose authority rivaled all but Helios, whose dominion touched both time and fate. Though he was said to have transcended into the ranks of the Primordials, here he stood once more among them.
Unease rippled through the assembly. This was the one who could bend timelines, alter destinies, and cast souls into imagined worlds beyond death. Some madmen sought him, craving escape. Others feared him, loathing the peril he embodied.
When Eric's feet touched the polished floor of the inner hall, the solemn chime of bells rang, followed by the gentle blare of trumpets.
But it was not only Michael, Irene, and Eric who had arrived. The Celestial Goddess herself was present, and with her, several of the highest gods who rarely deigned to attend such gatherings.
"All of you," Oliver's voice cut through the hush, "arrange yourselves as before."
The gods shifted, forming their old ranks. Oliver continued, his tone clipped.
"Time is precious. No idle chatter. Raise thy hand to speak, and show proper conduct in this court. Those who defy shall face penalty."
He paused, glancing at Helios, who answered with a slow nod.
"This court is now in session."
*
*
*
Far from the gleaming halls, another scene unfolded—one drenched in blood.
The stench of iron filled the air where hundreds of corpses lay sprawled across a battlefield. To the demons feasting on the divine dead, the wails of the fallen were nothing more than music.
At the forefront stood Abaddon. His crimson gaze locked on a structure in the distance, his jaw tense. He had waited centuries for this day, centuries to see his vengeance bloom. And yet—his brow twitched. His chest felt heavy, unsteady.
"My lord, all is prepared," Invidius reported, rolling his neck until two sharp cracks broke the silence.
Abaddon gave a curt nod, though his gaze did not waver. "Strangely, I feel… weary."
Kassandra appeared beside him, her voice lined with concern. "Are you well?"
The generals turned their eyes to him, unsettled by the vacant look in their master's eyes. For a moment he seemed lost, as if staring into a void none of them could see.
"Abaddon?" Kassandra pressed.
He blinked, exhaled. "Yes… Ahem. Pay it no mind. My thoughts strayed, but I am well enough."
Kassandra frowned, her lips curving into a pout. She struck his shoulder lightly. "Do not frighten me so!"
Abaddon scratched his cheek with a nervous laugh. The other generals exchanged tired sighs.
"Ease your tongue, Kassie," Ira sneered. He jerked his thumb toward her soldiers. "And set a better example for your whelps."
Kassandra's eyes flashed. "What did you say?"
"Shall I repeat myself, brat?" Ira's grin widened, cruel and amused.
Her voice deepened with anger. "You test me, Ira."
Sufèrvia swiftly stepped between them, hands raised. "Enough. Both of you. Save your rage for the battlefield."
"None of your concern, Sufèrvia," they growled in unison.
Before it could escalate further, Invidius' sharp voice cut through. "Silence! We are not gathered to squabble. Remember why we stand on this accursed ground. Our enemy is not one another—it is Helios and his kin."
The tension eased. Invidius turned back toward Abaddon. "My lord?"
Abaddon finally tore his gaze from the distant palace. His voice, low but resolute, carried across the field. "Correct. This day belongs to vengeance. Helios shall pay. No disorder will be tolerated."
Thousands of demons waited, their breaths a single storm. Abaddon raised his arm.
"My children! You have endured long enough. Now, march! Let your roar shake the heavens! Today, conquest shall be ours!"
A tidal roar erupted, tens of thousands crying out as one.
*
*
*
"Defendant," Eric's voice echoed through the hall, cool and merciless, "on behalf of this court, thy title shall be stripped away."
Several gods bristled, their glares sharp as blades, but Eric's eyes did not waver. "Challenge my authority if you dare. But know this—defiance will bring consequence most dire."
Though his power was second only to the Celestial Deities themselves, none could ignore the weight of his words. To defy him was to defy the heavens above him.
He let his gaze sweep across the hall. "Is there any among you so obstinate as to deny my judgment?"