The Heroic Era had ended.
Human order collapsed.
The Evil of Humanity erupted.
This…
For the mythological world, it was as though everything had come to a halt.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
In that moment, the mythological world was stunned, as if asking itself existential questions. Hadn't the end of the Heroic Era marked humanity's entry into a new age? Wasn't this supposed to be humanity's time to thrive?
What was going on?
Yet regardless of the mythological world's confusion, the Evil of Humanity that had emerged could not be eradicated. It was an integral part of humanity, inseparable unless humanity itself was destroyed.
Alternatively—
One could attempt to rewrite human history, carefully altering events to prevent the birth of this evil and reversing the collapse of human order.
But here lay the greatest challenge:
Though the solution sounded simple, implementing it was a monumental task. It required vast amounts of time.
While the mythological world had time in abundance, it struggled to comprehend the nature of this phenomenon. What had gone wrong?
At that moment, the mythological world began to suspect that something fundamental had shifted.
Humanity's Heroic Era had been its brightest moment, a time when its unique glory shone through. Even if humanity perished, it was supposed to be a proud and powerful demise, not one consumed by darkness.
Yet now—
The eruption of humanity's hidden darkness had led to its downfall.
For the mythological world, this could mean only one thing: a fundamental flaw in humanity's essence.
Now it understood.
Humanity's collapse was tied to its intrinsic darkness, a fact undeniable yet perplexing. Despite this realization, the mythological world remained unsure how to resolve the issue.
It needed time—an abundance of time.
But even more troubling was the realization that unless the cause of this issue was fully understood, the same calamity would likely occur again.
The Evil of Humanity, with its chaos and destruction, was an inevitable part of human existence.
For now, the mythological world found itself in a state of paralysis.
---
### In the Heavens
"…"
Boros knelt, his body battered and torn. He had tried to forcefully absorb the heavens, attempting to transcend his status as a god-king and ascend to the realm of the Ancient Gods.
But clearly—
He had failed.
Even with Uranus suppressing the chaos of the heavens, Boros lacked the power to fully assimilate the sky.
Hah… Hah…
Boros gasped for air, his pale face filled with bitterness. "What a pathetic scene… What a disgrace! I've come this far, and yet, in the end, I've still failed."
"Heh… Heh heh…"
Boros chuckled bitterly, mocking himself.
He hadn't expected this outcome.
"Boros."
The shadowy form of Uranus appeared, his voice calm. "You have failed. Or rather, your failure was inevitable the moment you stepped onto this path. You cannot contain the heavens. Your struggle ends here."
"Ah…"
Boros fell to one knee, his body trembling with exhaustion. Yet he smiled wryly and said, "Only now, standing here, do I truly understand how difficult this was."
"I thought…"
"…that everything would be so simple."
"But reality?"
Boros shook his head, his expression laced with self-deprecation.
Indeed—
Hades' ascension to the Ancient God tier had seemed so effortless, giving others the illusion that they could achieve the same if they simply followed the right path.
The truth, however, was far from simple.
Only when standing on the precipice of success did one realize the true magnitude of the challenge.
For Boros, Athena, and Poseidon, the journey was far harder than they had imagined.
Now Boros' efforts seemed almost laughable. Though he had come within a step of success, it was as if the heavens themselves had decreed his failure.
---
"Boros, as agreed, everything that is yours will now belong to me," Uranus declared.
"Ah!"
Boros made no protest. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the ground, his once-handsome face twisted into a cruel grin. "Uranus, the curtain is falling. But… you'd better not fail either."
"This path—"
"Even if I can't walk it to the end—"
"Show me what your future holds."
As Boros spoke, his body dissolved into streaks of light, merging with the heavens.
This was the price he paid for attempting to absorb the heavens.
Had he succeeded, Uranus' very essence would have been consumed, leaving the god no trace of himself. Uranus would have fully become the heavens, while Boros would have ascended as an Ancient God.
But failure meant Boros' fate was reversed—he became a part of the heavens, replacing Uranus as its eternal prisoner.
For Uranus, this was the opportunity he had been waiting for.
---
With streaks of light fading away, a figure emerged.
Tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair cascading down his back, the man's features were rugged rather than conventionally beautiful.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
"Hahaha!"
The man's laughter rang out wildly, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he clenched his fists in triumph. "Incredible! I did it! I've finally succeeded!"
"Ah…"
Uranus' voice grew low and somber. "At long last, I am free from the heavens. At long last, I have returned!"
"Gaia."
"Kronos."
"And the mythological world… our grievances are far from over."
"But first…"
Uranus narrowed his eyes, his tone cold. "I need to retrieve what is rightfully mine. The power that belongs to me."
He turned his gaze back toward the heavens, where Boros had merged. The sky trembled violently.
---
The mythological world, still reeling from the Evil of Humanity, was thrown into further chaos.
"What's happening now?"
First the collapse of human order, and now the heavens themselves were shaking. It seemed as if the entire mythological world was falling apart.
Uranus smirked as he felt the mythological world's frantic attempts to stabilize the heavens. "The mythological world treated its gods as tools. Now those same gods will deliver the greatest backlash."
"But I don't have time to dwell on this," Uranus muttered, dismissing the turmoil around him. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
Without hesitation, Uranus left the heavens, heading straight for the Astral Plane to reclaim what he had hidden there long ago.
These trump cards, left behind as a contingency, were now essential to his plans.
If his bid for freedom had failed, they would have been a thorn in the mythological world's side.
But now that he was free, they would become the foundation of his resurgence.
------------------
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