Far beneath the screaming sky and shattered wards, deep in the earth where light could not reach, Morpheus sat alone in the chamber of the sleeping stone.
The walls around him pulsed faintly with ancient magic runes carved a thousand years ago, forgotten by all but the most obscure tomes. A dome of silence surrounded the room, impenetrable even to the chaos echoing from above. And at the center of it all, Morpheus knelt in stillness.
Stone warriors ringed the chamber dozens of them, their armor lacquered with dust and age, their faces serene and alien. The terracotta army stood dormant, unmoving, as they had for centuries. Some bore shields, others spears, some great bows strung with stone sinew.
Morpheus opened his eyes.
His breath drew slowly through his nose, then out again.
"It's time," he whispered.
He reached into the cloth pouch hanging from his belt and drew out the core—Herpo's power source, painstakingly repaired over sleepless days. Its outer shell shimmered with unstable runes, but the energy within was pure, focused, coiled like a striking serpent.
He pressed it into the carved slot at the foot of the largest statue. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the chamber groaned.
A low, grinding vibration rolled through the stone like thunder underwater. The eyes of the warriors flickered gold. A quiet hum filled the air. Dust poured from ancient joints. Fingers twitched. One by one, the warriors raised their heads.
Morpheus stepped back, letting the energy flow. With a flick of his hand, the massive slab behind him slid aside, revealing a dark tunnel sloping upward toward the heart of the mountain.
He nodded once.
"Go," he whispered. "My terracotta warriors."
And like that, they marched. Silent. Synchronized. An ancient army born of clay and magic, surging forward into the dark toward the light of war.
****
Above, the sky was splitting.
Kazuki staggered back as another blast from Zelus struck the wardwall, exploding into a dome of shattering violet shards. Cracks now spiderwebbed across the last major barrier.
"East wall, down!" someone screamed.
"The western rune line is burning out we're losing containment!"
Angels shrieked as they dove, hurling lances of holy fire that melted stone and incinerated spell shields. Demons crawled over debris, some leaping the walls with preternatural strength. The battlefield was pure chaos, but the defenders fought like hell.
Kazuki roared into his wand. "Transfigure barrage, now!"
On cue, a Japanese war mage shattered a boulder with a whispered spell. His partner, a wiry young woman from Brazil, transfigured the flying shards midair into hundreds of sharpened spears. The metal rain tore through the ranks of climbing demons, pinning them in screaming clusters.
To the west, two American sharpshooters stood on a scaffolding, picking angels out of the sky with brutal precision, wands firing precision hexes and blasting curses laced with piercing runes. Each fallen angel plummeted like a comet.
Still, the gods pressed forward.
Icelus glided through the carnage like a dream made flesh. Every step left shadowprints behind. A swipe of his arm split open a wall. A whisper from his lips sent four defenders into convulsions, locked in waking nightmares they couldn't escape.
Zelus was worse pure fury, a golden engine of war. Blasts from wizards hit him and sizzled off his armor. His body smoked with ward burns, but he kept coming. A slam of his fist obliterated an entire watchtower, sending flaming debris tumbling into the courtyard.
"They're breaching!" someone howled.
Kazuki stood at the top of the staircase leading into the shrine itself, robes torn, a streak of blood down his temple. He raised both hands and chanted rapidly, drawing up layered glyphs of fire, water, earth, and wind. The ground shook, then erupted as spiked vines burst forth and lashed at the advancing demons.
It wasn't enough.
The inner sanctum was within reach. The gods were less than a hundred meters from the doors.
And then…
From the tunnel mouths around the inner courtyard stone shattered.
And out of them marched warriors.
Silent, massive, inhuman.
The terracotta army had arrived.
They surged from underground like spirits of war, weapons raised, eyes glowing. Their formation was perfect—a phalanx of enchanted stone, unbreakable and unyielding. They moved with eerie unity, splitting into three flanks as if guided by a single will.
A demon lunged its claws scraped harmlessly against terracotta shield. A spear struck next, shattering the demon's ribcage and launching it back like a rag doll.
Above, Kazuki blinked, wide-eyed. "What…?" He laughed, "They are repaired!"
And somewhere far below, in the dark, Morpheus stood calmly, hand still outstretched from the activation.
He smiled.
***
The god's footfall shattered the courtyard, stone trembling under each pace.
Zelus tore through the last of the outer defense, golden armor gleaming with blood and dust, his face carved in perfect fury. Every movement of his limbs burned with zealotry, his stride stretching across impossible distances one blink, and he was fifty meters closer; another, and he was nearly at the shrine gates.
And then—
Kazuki leapt from the tower.
A blur of black and silver robes, his ring glinting in the fractured light. He landed directly in Zelus's path, bare feet striking the stone with a soft tap as if gravity itself had bent to his will.
Zelus slowed.
Not because he feared him no, gods did not fear mortals but because he recognized something strange. The man before him stood like a reed before a storm, calm, upright. Ancient. Yet still burning.
Kazuki exhaled.
Then he moved.
A single flick of his hand, and the ground behind him erupted. Stone curled upward, reshaping in a blink into a dozen wolf-like beasts, each carved of obsidian and magma, eyes glowing molten red. They surged past him and lunged toward the god.
Zelus roared and met them with a sweep of his arm, obliterating three in a single blow but Kazuki was already circling.
He didn't attack in straight lines. He danced.
Every step spun magic around him in elegant spirals his feet kissed the ground, and the ground obeyed. Walls of stone surged up to shield him. Spires of jagged marble rose beneath Zelus's feet to trip him mid-charge. The god stumbled not wounded, but staggered.
Kazuki swept low, palm brushing the stone.
Transmutare—Shatter.
The ground beneath Zelus exploded upward in a cluster of diamond spears, each honed to a razor point. The god snarled and punched downward, shattering them but the second Kazuki had wanted that.
He was already behind him.
A graceful pivot. A flourish of his arm. Dust curled into silver chains and wrapped around Zelus's arm, hardening to steel midair. The god snarled, twisting violently but another chain bound his leg, then his torso.
Kazuki didn't stop.
He danced.
He spun in a full circle, each motion coaxing the very battlefield to reshape. Pillars cracked and broke into fragments, spinning around him like orbiting moons. With each flick of his fingers, they changed: from rubble to sword, sword to net, net to binding spell etched in runes.
Zelus bellowed in rage and charged forward again, breaking the chains but not before a final piece of stone in Kazuki's orbit caught fire and struck him square in the chest.
A sigil burned into the god's golden breastplate.
Zelus stumbled backward, for the first time… hesitant.
Kazuki stood still at last, breathing lightly. "You are strength," he murmured, in perfect, unshaken Japanese. "But strength without control is nothing."
Zelus's eyes narrowed, flames licking the sides of his face.
Then he charged again.
But this time, he didn't find a frail man in his path.
He found a master.
Kazuki spun again, leaping upward as the very air folded under his command. And then he vanished, reappearing behind Zelus in a burst of petals an illusion transfigured from wind and dust.
The god wheeled, furious.
Kazuki whispered, "Now."
From the sides, enchanted rocks and earth, shaped earlier into dormant traps, activated at once. A cascade of transfigured clay transformed into steel spears midair. Zelus raised his arms to shield—
—but it was already too late.
The first blow pierced his shoulder. The next caught his thigh. The rest rained down like a storm of vengeance.
Zelus screamed and drove both fists into the ground, unleashing a shockwave that cracked the earth in all directions but Kazuki rode the wave, flipping backwards, robes fluttering like wings.
He landed lightly, one foot perched on a floating sliver of earth still hovering from the explosion.
His chest rose and fell calmly. "You are not unstoppable," he said.
Zelus looked up at him, bloodied, furious and now wary.
And the battle still raged all around them.