Chapter 3: Feast of the Gods
The stars trembled above the golden realm of Elysion, where the Pantheon of Olympus held their endless council.
The marble floor gleamed like starlight, bathed in divine radiance — but beneath that beauty was something rotten.
The gods were laughing.
"Mortals," said Zeus, reclining on his massive throne of thunder. "Pathetic little things. They keep tearing open dimensional gates like toys, expecting not to be eaten by what comes out."
His laughter boomed across the hall. Lightning crackled with each chuckle.
Poseidon grinned, swirling a cup of liquid light. "At least they're entertaining. I drowned a few worlds last week. Lovely screams. It's art, really."
"A bit excessive," Athena murmured, polishing her spear. "But I admit, chaos is amusing. The mortals think they're evolving, yet they remain fragile. Like clay dolls dancing on the edge of a blade."
Hermes smirked. "So… shall we make a game of it again?"
Zeus' eyes lit up. "A game?"
"Of course," Hermes said, flicking a coin made of starlight. "Each of us chooses a mortal. We'll bless them, guide them, mold them — and see which one rises to the top. A friendly wager."
"Last time we did that," Ares rumbled, his voice gravel and thunder, "Athena cheated."
"I didn't cheat," she snapped. "Your disciple started a war because you told him to 'show his strength.' I simply outplayed you."
The gods burst into laughter. Even Hera, who rarely smiled, chuckled behind her hand.
Zeus slammed his goblet down. "Then it's settled! Let the game begin! The winner shall gain the right to alter one law of creation!"
The air vibrated with divine energy as seals of light burst into the sky. Each god began selecting their mortal pieces from the swirling tapestry of dimensions below.
Lightning cracked, waves surged, and flame and frost spun into the void.
At the far end of the hall, a voice broke through the commotion.
"Pardon my interruption."
The gods turned.
A man stepped forward — calm, composed, dressed in a white administrator's uniform that shimmered faintly like glass. His golden eyes reflected the light of a thousand worlds.
Ren, the new Dimensional Administrator.
"Oh, Ren!" Hermes waved lazily. "The watcher of worlds finally joins us."
Athena smiled politely. "How fares the mortal balance, Administrator?"
Ren bowed slightly. "Stable… for now."
Zeus rested his chin on his fist. "For now? You sound uncertain."
Ren kept his voice even. "The dimensional fractures are spreading faster than expected. If another herald appears—"
"Ah, yes," Zeus interrupted with a smirk. "The Heralds. What a delightful memory."
Poseidon chuckled. "Delightful? They nearly killed half the Pantheon."
Ares grinned, his golden armor creaking as he leaned forward. "Nearly."
The gods laughed again — cruel, echoing, full of pride.
Ren's smile never wavered, but behind it, his fingers clenched tightly.
Zeus leaned back and gestured toward a line of pedestals at the edge of the hall. Upon them stood eight crystalline vases, each glowing faintly with dimmed divine seals.
"Ah, behold our greatest trophies," he said proudly. "The souls of the traitors. The Knight and his Seven. Once our finest creations, now nothing but whispers sealed in glass."
The other gods turned to admire the vases. Within them, swirling shadows pulsed faintly — fragments of Cain and his disciples.
Poseidon tapped one with a fingernail. "Still humming. Heh. Even dead, they refuse to shut up."
Ares laughed. "I keep mine near my training pit. Reminds me how fragile heroes really are."
Hera traced her fingers along another vase, smiling faintly. "The girl with the white hair. Luna, was it? Pity she screamed so beautifully. Shame she chose the wrong side."
Ren's jaw tightened.
They were mocking them. Mocking him.
Zeus noticed his silence and smirked. "You seem tense, Administrator. Do the relics disturb you?"
Ren raised his gaze, calm but sharp. "Not at all, my lord. I was merely admiring your… trophies."
The king of gods grinned. "Good. Because each one of those vases is proof — no mortal, no herald, no so-called hero will ever surpass us again."
Ren bowed his head. "Of course."
But deep within, his laughter was cold.
Surpass you?
You have no idea what you've unleashed.
---
Centuries Ago – The Herald War
The sky was nothing but fire.
The gods descended upon the mortal realm like falling stars, their divine forms scorching the earth. Cain stood at the center of a broken world, his cape torn and body drenched in blood, staring up at the heavens.
The air was filled with screams — gods and mortals alike. Oceans boiled, mountains melted, the sky itself cracked under the weight of divine power.
"Cain of Dawn!" Zeus thundered, his face carved in fury. "You were made to serve the gods, not destroy them!"
Cain laughed — a ragged, defiant laugh that echoed across burning continents. "Serve? You chained us! You turned us into your dogs!"
He raised his blade — Eclipser, forged from pure voidsteel. It pulsed with enough energy to shred reality itself.
Behind him, his disciples stood ready. Iris' crimson aura scorched the ground. Theo's sword gleamed like a fallen star. Luna's hands, once used to heal, now glowed with light that could burn souls.
They weren't heroes anymore.
They were the abandoned.
---
Ares struck first, roaring like a beast. His blade clashed against Cain's, and the impact sent shockwaves that cracked the planet. Blood sprayed as Cain's sword bit into Ares' shoulder — carving deep enough to expose golden bone.
"IS THAT ALL, GOD OF WAR!?" Cain roared.
Ares' grin widened, wild and dripping blood. "Not even close."
He slammed a fist into Cain's ribs, breaking three at once. The knight staggered, spat crimson, and drove his knee into Ares' jaw. Lightning exploded behind them as Zeus hurled another bolt, tearing through the battlefield.
Poseidon summoned walls of tidal fury, drowning cities, crushing armies. But Finch — the smallest of the Seven — laughed hysterically and hurled bombs of liquid fire into the waves. "Let's see if your ocean can drown this!"
The explosion evaporated entire seas.
Apollo's spear of light impaled Mira through the chest; she smiled, blood dripping from her lips, and detonated her last spell, burning his face to the bone.
Athena fought Iris, steel against flame, strategy against chaos. Iris screamed, eyes glowing scarlet. "You trained me to fight clean — I learned to kill dirty!"
Her flames devoured Athena's left arm before the goddess skewered her through the heart.
Even as Iris fell, her fire didn't fade — it burned the goddess's wound forever.
---
The battle raged for days.
When it finally ended, Olympus was broken. The gods stood victorious — but maimed, scarred, and barely breathing.
Ares had lost an eye, his chest carved open by Cain's blade.
Poseidon's body was covered in burn marks that would never heal.
Athena's once flawless face bore a diagonal scar across her lips.
Zeus' left arm was gone entirely, replaced by a construct of thunder that sparked endlessly.
And at their feet lay Cain — kneeling, bleeding, but still smiling.
"Still think… you're gods?" he croaked, voice soaked in defiance.
Zeus raised his remaining hand, lightning building around him. "I don't think, mortal. I know."
Ares and Poseidon grabbed Cain by the arms as the sealing sigils appeared.
Cain screamed as divine chains pierced his flesh, binding soul to matter, power to silence.
His disciples were dragged one by one, their souls condensed into orbs of light — sealed inside vases forged from their own divine essence.
Cain's body was the last to fall. His sword shattered, scattering black shards across the battlefield. Zeus raised the final seal, voice trembling with anger and triumph.
"Sleep forever, Knight of Dawn. Your rebellion ends here."
The sigil exploded.
The world split in half.
---
Back in the Present
Zeus' laughter echoed through the hall as he recalled the tale.
"Ah, the look on his face before the seal closed — priceless."
Ares smirked. "The mortal who thought he could fight the heavens. At least he gave us good scars."
Poseidon lifted his sleeve, showing the faint glowing burns running up his arm. "I kept mine. A reminder of what happens when we're too merciful."
The gods laughed again, their voices shaking the pillars.
Ren stood silently among them, eyes half-lidded, face unreadable.
Inside, his blood boiled. Every scar they flaunted came from his hands. Every laugh echoed the screams of people he'd sworn to protect.
He looked at the row of vases again — Cain's resting in the center, sealed in endless silence.
Zeus raised his goblet. "To victory over false heroes!"
The others cheered.
Ren smiled thinly.
But in his mind, a single thought whispered — dark, cold, and certain.
You fools.
The dead don't stay sealed forever.
He bowed respectfully. "If you'll excuse me, my lords, I'll return to my duties."
"Go," Zeus said dismissively. "Keep the worlds in order for our entertainment."
Ren turned, walking away as the laughter continued to echo behind him. The doors of the Pantheon closed slowly, muffling their arrogance.
Once he was alone, his calm mask finally cracked. His eyes burned faintly red — the same hue once worn by Cain himself.
A faint tremor rippled through the divine realm.
The nearest vase — the one holding Cain's soul — pulsed once.
Then again.
A single crack appeared across its surface, glowing like molten light.
Ren looked back over his shoulder and smiled.
"Soon."
The vase shuddered, faint whispers echoing in the air.
A voice long forgotten — deep, broken, furious — murmured from within:
> "Ren… my brother…"
The light flickered — and then silence.
---
TO BE CONTINUED