**VERSE I**
In the beginning, a profound and unsettling chaos rippled through the upper realm—a domain so distinguished and untouched by the hands of mortals and their fleeting creations that it felt utterly alien and sublime.
Here, amid the ethereal expanse of starlit skies and shimmering auroras, my mother, though a middle-ranked deity, held her station with unwavering grace beside the gods of her own realm and caliber. The weight of her presence was palpable, as she prepared for a gathering that would soon shape the fate of all creation.
A meeting was summoned, a celestial council of the gods that governed Earth and the entire Verse—a vast web of existence woven together by threads of fate and divine intention.
The council hall, grander than any temple known to mortal beings, spread endlessly before us, its walls imbued with the histories of countless eons. Thousands of divine entities filled the vast space, each radiating their inherent power, each heartbeat resonating like the pulse of a distant star.
The air itself vibrated with a frenetic energy, as if the very essence of creation strained against the confines of its own reality.
At the pinnacle of this spectacular gathering, upon the largest throne that floated amidst the celestial vapor, sat the One. Ambiguous in form, it encapsulated the essence of both light and shadow, shimmering and flickering in a misty gray aura—a perfect embodiment of the delicate balance that held all things in existence.
Its voice resonated, not through sound but through a profound awareness, commanding the undivided attention of even the most obstinate deities present.
"This is absolutely preposterous," declared a god of stately presence, his voice booming like thunder across the hall. Dressed in ornate Greek attire, his white cloth cascaded elegantly from his shoulders, held in place by a golden snake head emblem that seemed to flicker with life.
The elaborate patterns woven into the cloth portrayed ancient stories of triumphs and tragedies, a testament to his divine lineage.
"Shut it, Zeus. We know it's bad; must you announce it like a crowing rooster?" A goddess interjected, her voice slicing through the tension with a deftness that demanded respect. She possessed an allure that was both captivating and fearsome.
Her hair cascaded like a waterfall of night, while her skin radiated a smooth jade glow, contrasting dramatically with the blood-red hue of her lips. Amaterasu's scornful gaze pierced through the divinity of Zeus, who, unfazed, reclined in his throne as if claiming victory in an unspoken contest.
"We need solutions, not soliloquies on our misfortune," she continued, her words biting yet tempered by an undercurrent of reason. Her eyes locked with Zeus's, an implicit challenge sparking between them, igniting the air with a potent mix of authority and defiance.
"Know your place, female," he retorted, a smug grin gracing his lips even as he dared her with a glance, leaning back with an air of self-satisfaction.
There was a palpable friction in the air, a clash of wills as Amaterasu's fury simmered dangerously beneath her composed exterior.
With each deliberate inhalation, she tightened her fists, the divine flames within her barely restrained, flickering just beneath the surface of her cool demeanor.
The tension in the hall was nearly tangible, as if a tempest brewed within the confines of the council itself.
Her veins, usually hidden beneath the soft glow of her skin, pulsated visibly at her neck—an irrefutable signal of the turmoil she fought to suppress.
"Careful, or you might pop it," chimed in a youthful deity, the audacity of his spirit evident in his playful demeanor. His hair was styled in a whimsical double bun, and his attire—a striking red gi, unbuttoned to reveal a glimpse of his confidence—housed a mischievous sparkle.
Nezha's grin was unapologetically cocky, his eyes dancing with delight at the chaos unfolding before him.
"He's right," affirmed an angelic figure nearby, his expansive wings stretching majestically, casting shadows that danced across the marble floor. He lifted his head slowly, exhaling a sigh that resonated with universal weariness.
"You and Nezha always get on my nerves, you know that?" Amaterasu's frustration spilled out. Shaking her head, she attempted to quell the rising tide of irritation, seeking solace in the collective chaos of the room.
"What a nervous god," echoed a voice through the chamber, laced with silky insouciance. "Is it so difficult to sigh that you resort to snorting?"
Silence enveloped the assembly, a sudden and palpable hush that drew every gaze toward the speaker. Amaterasu's eyes twitched in barely concealed anger. They all recognized the playful malice behind those words, and the source wasn't the arrogant Zeus. No, it was a presence both revered and feared, a deity whose mere laughter could shatter the frail equilibrium of the divine council.
The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, an intricate tapestry of power plays and fragile alliances, as the impending discussions loomed like dark clouds on a horizon, ready to unleash their tempest upon the cosmos.
The fate of worlds would hinge not only on the alliances formed here today but also on the very divine fabric that had woven them all together, threaded by destiny, chaos, and an unquenchable thirst for power.
"Lord," Amaterasu said, her voice barely above a whisper, though the tremor of restrained emotion laced every syllable. The tension in the ornate hall became palpable as the weight of her words hung in the air. She tightened her grip on the intricate fabric of her kimono, desperately trying to rein in the tempest within her. How had it come to this? Her brother, Susanoo, the cause of her heartache, sat defiantly among the shadows cast by demons and banished souls.
"Why is Susanoo here?" Her words were sharp, brimming with a simmering frustration. She could see him clearly, lounging with an insufferable air of arrogance, and it ignited a fire in her heart—an ancient wound freshly reopened.
Nezha, fierce and unyielding, cast an impatient glance at Amaterasu, his brow furrowed with indignation.
"You can clearly see where he's seated, lady," he snapped, frustration leaking into his tone. Each wrinkle on his forehead deepened as his anger flared, directed as much at the situation as at her restraint.
Amaterasu inhaled deeply, drawing on the wellspring of composure she had honed over centuries. It was a challenge, keeping her emotions in check when thoughts of Susanoo brought forth bitter memories of tears shed over their tumultuous past. Yet here he was, a brash being enveloped in bravado, stirring the pot of old grievances.
"I don't even understand why you been placed amongst us," she stated, as she shifted her gaze to Nezha, her voice shifting, transforming into a chilling calmness that belied the storm brewing within. She despised Nezha, and his cocky naughty attitude.
To her, it seemed unfitting evaluating the fact that he is crowned a high tier god. Only demons take part in their pride, but she can't say that.
She knows he hates it.
----
As the council convened, Benzaitan, the goddess of love, lifted her gaze, her voice cutting through the heavy silence like a beacon of light.
"What do you suggest we do, Lord? The darkness has already infiltrated our realms. Creation trembles, twisted and ravaged by these monstrous beings!" Her words, rich with sorrow yet resolute, carried the weight of profound concern. She clenched her fists against her lap, as if binding the very fabric of the cosmos, feeling every heartbeat echo the torment of existence.
*This is my mother, Benzaitan—The goddess of love. She was the embodiment of compassion and beauty, but beneath that serene surface lay an iron will, capable of shifting the tides of fate. Her realm, deeply intertwined with Shinto spirit, was as formidable as it was breathtaking. The magnificence of the celestial world surrounding them contrasted sharply with the turmoil they now faced. Amaterasu is the high-tier goddess and the principal deity of their pantheon.*
"What we face…" a resonant voice interrupted, filling the chamber with an energy so powerful it felt like a cosmic storm rolling through. The Being stood before them, shrouded in an ethereal mist that obscured the fine details of its form, yet the aura was unmistakably commanding, like the striking silhouette of a lion amidst a field of ordinary beasts.
"...is a threat to all of life." The air crackled around them as reality itself seemed to tremble in response to the gravity of the Being's declaration. Its matterless hands opened wide, revealing an unfathomable depth of cosmic void that sent shivers down the spine of every divine entity present.
Astonishment enveloped the assembly of divine beings; had they always existed under such a threat? The Lord who had crafted them, who had shaped the very fabric of their dimensions, was now warning them of peril like never before. This was a rarity—an unprecedented summons that ignited mounting concern amongst the different pantheons.
Across from Amaterasu, a monkey-like figure adorned in resplendent celestial armor leaned lazily, a toothpick clamped between his teeth as he absentmindedly whistled a tune.
"Show respect…" a different deity uttered, the calm authority in his voice threaded with a dispassionate tone. The most reverenced deity across the table, Buddha.
" Wukong."
With a subtle nod, the monkey god acknowledged the severity of the moment, an unspoken camaraderie with the looming weight of the situation surrounding them. Buddha, the apex tier deity, was always watching over him, guiding him towards propriety. Perfect in his pursuit of righteousness, and yet it filled Wukong with a simmering desire to break free from such expectations.
"As Lady Benzaitan has pronounced," his hands moved with a flicker, reaching outward as if to grasp the attention of every divine being present. "Its sudden invasion is devouring creation—slowly, but surely." The One's voice was calm yet carried a weight that pressed upon the gathered gods.
"Every entity is required to drive this eccentric being to extinction."
Curiosity ignited among the divine assembly. What kind of power required them all to unite? The One, typically a solitary guardian of balance, was now asking for aid.
"Let me show you," he continued, and as he opened his hands, a luminous hologram began to form. It pulsed with the One's grey aura, drawing the eyes of every being in the chamber. A divine insight radiated from the display, a tangible force that captivated them all.
The image revealed a swirling black mist, creeping across planets and galaxies, its tendrils leaking into existence itself. The gods watched in silence; some were intrigued, while others feigned indifference. Yet all were spellbound as the mist grew, thickening with each passing moment.
The stillness deepened, broken only by the faint crackle of divine energy. The mist consumed worlds, even hallowed realms that had stood unchallenged for eons. With each dimension engulfed, its essence faded, swallowed into nothingness.
As the horrific vision faded, an oppressive silence fell like a shroud. Then, piercing through that stillness, a deep voice shattered the tension. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Apophis?" The speaker, lounging with eyes closed, wore a mocking grin.
"It's not, Seth" a sharp voice cut in. Freyja, dressed in simple trousers and a brown leather jacket, shot him a glare laced with disgust. Blue rune markings glowed on her arms, a testament to her power. "You know it isn't."
"Freyja," he huffed dismissively, already looking away.
His gaze shifted to Sun God Ra, seated in pure white, an embodiment of tranquility. Ra seemed untouched by the chaos, his expression focused on the fading hologram, distant and serene. Seth knew Ra detested discussions of Apophis, their ancient rivalry spanning millennia. He sighed, closing his eyes. Two brothers, starkly divided: Ra, the sentient Sun God, embodying wisdom and creation; Apophis, a relentless force of destruction. Their fates intertwined yet irrevocably at odds, a cosmic dance of light and shadow.
Seth leaned forward, curiosity prickling at him. "Why did you summon beings like us?" he asked, motioning to his row of unredeemable gods, the outcasts.
As soon as the question left his lips, an unnatural stillness seized the chamber, as if time itself paused. The air felt heavy, and suddenly, all divine power was stripped, leaving them vulnerable before their creator.
"I called everyone here except for gods without sentience," the One's voice echoed, firm and resonant. "This threat, if unchecked, will consume us all."
In that moment, a wave of realization swept through the gathered gods. Understanding the gravity of the situation, they felt the crushing weight of inevitability, compelled to kneel before the One. The silent call for unity hung in the air, as their fates intertwined in the looming darkness.
The chamber was cloaked in an uneasy silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air. They all felt it—his anger, a deep and unfathomable rage that none had anticipated. It coursed through them like an electric current, sending shivers down their spines. The unease was palpable, mirrored in the anxiety etched upon their features.
"The fabric of creation itself is at risk," the One proclaimed, his form flickering like a candle in the wind. Shadows danced around him, coiling as if afraid to draw too close. "Should we dare to oppose this anomaly, the consequences would be catastrophic."
A collective breath caught in their throats as the weight of his words settled like lead. Questions swirled in the minds of the beings assembled, thoughts crashing against one another with chaotic fervor. Then he continued, the gravity of his statement pressing down on them, "This anomaly seeks to consume the mortal realm. But there is a way... an opportunity for salvation."
He raised his hands, releasing a shimmering essence that glinted like starlight. "Mortals will be granted the Breath of Existence," he declared with a voice that thundered through the chamber like an impending storm.
A hesitant hush enveloped the room. Every eye widened in disbelief. Though they understood his intentions—rooted in love for creation—confusion and dread intertwined. Was it truly wise to imbue mortals with such profound power?
"It will not be simple," he assured, the bones of his being vibrating with urgency. As he revealed his true form, a figure of bone and dust, shock rippled through the assembly. This skeletal visage belied the radiance of his essence, a stark reminder of the fragility of his existence.
"Lord!" Artemis gasped, betraying her fear in a voice that quivered.
"I have little time," he replied, the gravity of his presence magnified by the decay that enveloped him. "Each step has been orchestrated to ensure the mortals' survival." With a final, deliberate motion, he handed a glimmering bead to Buddha, who knelt reverently before him.
"What do you propose?" Ares challenged, his fiery demeanor barely restrained. "Why face this alone, when we could unite?"
"Sacrifice is not the path to preservation," the One interrupted, his form flickering. A faint smile played upon his lips, but it was tinged with sadness. He was fading swiftly, each moment a cruel reminder of his mortality.
In their shock, the deities remained still, paralyzed by the fragility of their creator. Then, his voice, once a resounding force, began to fade, whispering truths they were reluctant to accept. "Be wary, for your own making may lead to destruction," he warned, his gaze unyielding, even as he dwindled to the brink of oblivion.
A shudder passed through the chamber, hearts heavy with the finality of his words.
"Buddha," the urgency crept into his voice. "Release the essence now."
Buddha, eyes shut in solemnity, obeyed instantly, cracking open the bead with a reverent motion. The essence poured forth, a shimmering cascade sweeping through the chamber, igniting thoughts and ideas among the deities—their shared destiny intertwining with the mortals' fate.
"It approaches." The One's face was all that remained, eyes that held the weight of worlds locked onto theirs. "I have granted this power to all—gods and demons alike. Use it wisely." With those parting words, he smiled, a fleeting moment of hope, before his essence dissipated into the ether, leaving only silence in his wake.
The deities were left in a void, the echo of his absence reverberating deeply. As they stood in silence, mourning the loss of their lord, Buddha regained his composure, hands poised to channel the newfound power.
"It's coming," he pronounced, a steely determination coursing through him. The six ethereal hands emerged, each wielding a weapon—a promise of readiness in the face of what was to come. "Prepare yourselves. Our Lord may have vanished, but we will stand unwavering against the darkness."
"I agree, but it's highly likely that we would lose," Gaia, the mother of creation, declared with a tone that resonated through the hallowed chamber. Her presence was both formidable and nurturing, yet there lingered a trace of vulnerability in her words. Seated among the apex gods, she occupied the fifth rank in the celestial hierarchy, a once-proud spirit now draped in the weight of uncertainty.
As her voice echoed off the ancient stone walls, a tension thick enough to cut the air fell over the assembly. It was then that a voice, sharp and deliberate, intruded into the silence. "Even so, would you prefer to sit and wait?" The words sliced through the stillness, laden with urgency and a hint of disdain.
The speaker was a striking figure, the embodiment of fierce elegance. Her cascading hair, a cascade of intricate black, floated around her as if defying gravity, held aloft by a swirling aura that glimmered in shades of blackish grey. Clad in a sleeveless white satin gown that flowed like water, her silhouette was both ethereal and commanding. A golden belt cinched her waist, offsetting the delicate fabric with the weight of authority; golden armaments adorned her limbs, promising agility and strength in battle.
But it was her eyes—the absence of pupils—the black cornea framed by an otherworldly white iris that held one transfixed. They bore the mark of ancient knowledge and unfathomable power, yet they flickered with the embers of raw emotion: frustration, resolve, and a flicker of fear. The symbol of 'C' emblazoned on her forehead glowed faintly, a testament to her rank—second only to the venerable Buddha.
She sighed, a sound heavy with the burdens of a million thoughts. "Well..." she began, her voice almost a whisper, laden with unspoken fears and hopes interwoven like threads in a tapestry. The weight of the moment was palpable—an oscillation of possibility, an invitation to bravery, or a declaration of futility.
But before she could articulate her thoughts, the very foundation of their sanctuary trembled ominously. The chamber, once a monument to divine deliberation, fractured under the pressure of impending doom. Rubble rained down as the walls cracked, and the haunting howl of distant chaos clawed at their ears. The enemy had arrived, an unseen force looming like dark fog, a predator lurking just beyond the veil of their sanctuary.
Instinct kicked in; the air buzzed with adrenaline as the apex deities sprang into action. Each god—radiating power and poised for confrontation—bit into the fabric of reality, their auras blending into a kaleidoscope of divine resolve. They were no longer mere beings of legend but warriors rallying against an encroaching darkness.
In that fleeting moment, the weight of their past decisions hung heavily in the air, mingling with a fierce determination. Each deity braced themselves, gripped by the raw emotional tumult of the situation—fear gave way to purpose, hesitation morphed into unyielding strength.
They were not merely gods; they were guardians of existence.
In that moment, resolve crystallized among them, the spark ignited. They would honor the One's sacrifice and defend creation against the impending storm or so they thought.
* In the upper realm where the heavens once thrived, there was a war—a war that felt less like a battle and more like a devastating storm sweeping through a fragile landscape. I longed for a clash of titans, but instead, I witnessed a chilling massacre. One being, a creature of unimaginable terror, carved through the divine. Its strength shattered the chambers of existence, releasing gods into the void—a dark abyss where they were inexorably hunted down.
Half of creation's deities lay slain, their brilliance extinguished, and in their place stood a menacing figure whose presence eclipsed even the One who had birthed them. This creature, a defector from realms beyond, was adorned in a humanoid guise, but its essence was pure destruction. It was an eternal shadow, lingering where creation existed, bound to dominate and devour. Pain, deceit, and chaos dripped from its very being, as it sought to amplify its power and embody a dark dream. No god knew its name, but every soul in the upper realm felt it's demeanor.
Seated upon the cracked throne, once the seat of the fallen One, it held dominion over all in its grasp. This was not just a takeover; it was a reformation—an unyielding crest over the remnants of the gods.
The apex gods, burdened and bleeding, bore the weight of catastrophe. Only one death was recorded—Ymir, revered and formidable—while thousands of lesser deities lay in ruin, mere echoes of their former selves. In a desperate bid for survival, even Buddha, the tranquil, found himself bending the knee to this Supreme being. His heart heavy, he guided the others into submission, extending an olive branch to preserve a thread of existence. But betrayal stirs the divine, and from the shadows emerged whispers of revolt.
Those who dared to defy faltered, unwilling to accept the new order. The Supreme wielded its power with chilling ease, wrapping the remaining gods in a web of fear. Punishments followed swiftly—some were banished to the nether, while others fell to the embrace of oblivion. Their cries lingered, a haunting melody of despair that echoed through the fractured realm.
*The Breath of Existence swept across the fragile mortal realm, a kaleidoscope of dimensions trembling on the edge of chaos. Gifted by the One, this essence ignited a spark in humanity, a flicker of something divine.
Driven by desperation and ambition, mortals embraced this power, transforming their very beings. They became architects of their fate, grappling with the intoxicating dance of creation and destruction. In their pursuit of greatness, they glimpsed the divine within—both awe-inspiring and terrifying.*