Location: The Forge of Forgotten Pantheons
Beyond the borders of any known world, where even the Time Variance Authority dared not tread, the Forge of Forgotten Pantheons glowed with spectral fire. It was where discarded gods—those erased from myth, abandoned by belief, or devoured by their own creations—went to die.
But now, something had returned.
The Veilwraith hovered over the molten floor, its whispers feeding the furnace. In the center, rising from a pit of broken timelines and shattered godhoods, came a shape… familiar and monstrous.
"Come forth, Shade of Sparta. Rise, Godkiller reborn."
The being that stepped from the forge wasn't Kratos. But it carried his rage, his scars, and his weapons.
A shadow torn from a version of Kratos who had succumbed to his fury and destroyed everything—Olympus, Asgard, Midgard, even himself.
This was Kronos.
A dark echo. A weapon without restraint.
And now… the Veilwraith's new champion.
"What is your purpose?" the Wraith asked.
"To end what was never meant to begin," Kronos said, voice rumbling like tectonic plates. "To kill the gods who refuse to stay dead."
He turned his gaze toward Olympus.
And stepped into the multiverse.
Location: Avalon – Garden of Echoes
Harry stood beneath the silver tree at the center of the Garden, power radiating off him in waves. He could still feel the lightning of Zeus in his bones, the calm of Hestia in his breath, and the sea's endless roar in his blood.
But something was wrong.
The sky cracked—not with thunder, but with a silent, pulsing pressure.
Eira rushed toward him, eyes wide.
"He's coming," she said.
"Who?"
"Not a god. Not a demon. Something worse…"
Jean emerged behind her, psychic barriers already forming.
"The Forge spat something out. A godkiller. Made of nothing but wrath."
Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew.
"Kronos."
Kratos had told him of this being once—in a whisper, after too much war and too little peace.
A reflection of what he could have become.
Now that shadow was real.
And it was hunting gods.
Asgardian Alarm
In New Asgard, thunder rang before the storm.
Thor lifted Mjolnir—newly reforged in the Heart of the World Tree—and gazed into the winds.
"A shadow falls," he said.
"How big a shadow?" Valkyrie asked, blades drawn.
"The kind that eats realms."
Before they could prepare defenses, the sky split open.
And Kronos stepped through.
With one swing of his blades, he cleaved through an entire mountain.
With another, he shattered the Bifrost's anchor runes.
He wasn't here to conquer.
He was here to erase.
"Gods do not deserve to rise," Kronos snarled. "Not again."
He pointed at Thor.
"I start with you."
The Clash of Titans
Thor met him in the sky, lightning against void.
Mjolnir struck—only for Kronos to catch it mid-air and crush it in his hand.
"Impossible," Thor gasped.
"You think power is born from worth," Kronos said, slamming him into the sea. "But I was never worthy. And I burned the stars all the same."
Harry arrived in a flash of golden flame, Avalonsteel blade in one hand, wand glowing like a second sun.
"Enough!"
Kronos turned. Recognition flickered across his face.
"You. The boy who became too many things."
"I became what I had to," Harry said. "You? You're just a grave without a soul."
Kronos laughed.
"We'll see if your soul still sings… when I rip your gods apart."
Battle of the Avatars
The sky over New Asgard became a warzone.
Jean Grey, cloaked in Phoenix fire, dueled Kronos in the psychic realm, trying to contain his rage.
Storm called down celestial winds to slow his movements.
Eira used her bond with the multiverse to trap Kronos in looping paradoxes—but he broke them all with brute force.
Thor rose again, wounded but furious, lightning dancing from every limb.
But nothing stopped Kronos.
Until Harry stepped forward again.
"This ends now."
"Then die with them!"
Kronos rushed, blades raised—
And Harry dropped his weapons.
"No," he whispered. "Not with rage. Not this time."
He reached into the Garden of Echoes—and summoned a memory.
A memory of Kratos, holding his daughter, weeping.
A memory of peace.
And he thrust it into Kronos' chest.
The shadow screamed.
Not in pain—but in confusion.
"What is this?!" it bellowed.
"Your truth," Harry said. "You were never just wrath. You chose to become this. And you can choose again."
The multiverse around them shook as Kronos faltered. For a moment… just a moment… he saw the man he once had been.
And that was all it took.
Jean, Storm, and Eira joined Harry.
Together, they wrapped Kronos in light—not to destroy, but to contain.
Kronos fell to his knees.
"You… spared me…"
"We remembered you," Harry said.
Aftermath
Kronos was sealed in the Heart of the Garden, not as a prisoner—but as a reminder.
That even gods could fall.
That even shadows could weep.
Thor approached Harry afterward.
"You've done what Odin never could," the god of thunder said. "Made peace with wrath."
"It's not peace," Harry replied. "It's balance. Olympus rises, Asgard awakens. But we can't let the past decide the future."
"Then what comes next?"
Harry looked to the stars.
"Xavier once told me the future is always written by the ones who remember."
A new challenge was rising.
In shadows deeper than any god could see…
The X-Men had called him home.