Scene 1 — Huginn
The bar reeked of perfume, smoke, and blood that had soaked too deep into the wood to ever scrub out.
Bass thumped through the walls, desperate to sound alive.
Two bodyguards guarded the door—wide, dumb, and convinced their size could stop fate.
"Back of th—"
My hand covered his face and drove him through the frame.
The second guard blinked, took one look at me, and stepped aside.
The music strangled itself mid-note.
Up on the mezzanine, the man I'd come for didn't bother pretending he hadn't seen.
Tali.
Youngest of five.
Smile sharp enough to hide the fact that it was never honest.
He sat behind a wall of mercenaries—Cani-B muscle sent by Tasey so the kid wouldn't have to dirty his hands.
They didn't know the name Helborn meant anything. They just knew who paid them.
I smiled, raised a middle finger, and hurled the unconscious guard into their table.
Glass and liquor rained down like a broken toast.
"Where's the owner?!"
The air folded around the words. Mana sank into the floorboards; the lamps dimmed as if afraid.
"Huginn," Tali said at last, voice smooth and thin. "You're ruining my night."
"Then you're throwing the wrong kind of party," I said, climbing the stairs.
He poured another drink, forcing a grin. "I haven't been your student in ten years. You don't get to show up and—"
"—and remind you who taught you to breathe when death walked by?" I cut in.
The guards nearest him shifted, eyes wide, hearts stuttering under the pressure leaking from me.
They didn't understand why their instincts screamed run.
They'd been sent as muscle, not witnesses.
"You're letting Cani-B mutts sniff Astral routes," I said. "That's not ambition. That's suicide."
"They're Tasey's headache," he said, shrugging.
"Then tell him I'm the aspirin," I muttered.
He tried to laugh. "You talk like you're delivering messages for the gods."
I stopped at his shoulder, leaned close enough for him to feel the charge crawling over my skin.
My voice dropped to a whisper that only he could hear.
"Your big brother is home."
The grin froze, then fell away.
He didn't ask which brother. There was only one he could mean.
Odin.
The oldest. The one who'd walked into the Astral Sea and never come back.
Huginn's friend. His legend. Their nightmare.
I straightened. "Keep your dogs quiet. He won't like the noise."
Then I left.
When the door closed, the bar finally remembered to breathe.
Tali sat very still, cigar smoldering between two trembling fingers.
Then, slowly, that dangerous smile returned—crooked and knowing.
"Call Tasey," he said.
A merc blinked. "Boss?"
"Tell him Huginn stopped by."
The man nodded and hurried off, unaware he'd just been sent to knock on the edge of a god's coffin.
Tali laughed once, low and disbelieving.
He was the only one in the room who understood the punch line.
Because if Huginn had said those words…
then Odin was home.
Scene 2 — Simon
"Alright. Let's begin the briefing."
The council chamber glowed blue as the holographic table flared to life.
Every major Traveler and Explorer on Earth sat ringed around it—predators wearing politics like perfume.
"Less than two weeks ago," the analyst began, "a training mission in Austin experienced a verified Astral incursion. No casualties. One humanoid-type entity crossed through.
Head of the American Society, Crystal Helstrong, engaged the entity and is leading the ongoing investigation."
He tapped the console; images bloomed above the table—broken stone, scorched fields, the frozen crater of a dead rift.
"Monsters sighted:
Harpy — High S (Potential SS)
Death Knight — Low S
Orc — High S
Lich King — High S
Possible Berserker (SS), unverified.
"The humanoid killed the Harpy and Orc within seconds before the teachers evacuated. Dungeon rank D. Portal collapsed and sealed itself."
Even veterans shifted at that—self-sealing portals were myths told to scare recruits.
"To prevent exposure, all identities remain classified. Further updates come from Mrs. Helstrong and the Head of Society."
He sat down. The silence that followed carried the weight of continents.
Simmons Helstrong rose next, twin swords catching the holographic light.
"I was there," he said. "And let's not waste words—this wasn't a breach. It was a purge."
The table flickered to the frozen battlefield. "No undead present. Not one summon.
Both the Lich and Knight had full mana signatures, but something was devouring their necrotic flow.
Whatever walked through that rift — it feeds on death itself."
A murmur rippled through the chamber.
Then a voice rolled out, thunder in a polite suit.
"Are we certain of that?"
Zeus.
Gold armor faintly humming with restrained lightning.
"You can tell them," Crystal said without looking up.
Simmons nodded. "The Lich King spoke before it died.
Called the entity Reaper.
Make of that what you want. But given which seats are empty today, you already know this isn't small."
The Head of Society's voice rumbled from the dais.
"Don't concern yourself, Zeus. The absent have their own council. Is that a problem?"
Lightning sparked once, then died.
"No, sir."
Silence again—heavier, stranger.
Outside those walls, rumors were already whispering through channels both divine and criminal.
A name that hadn't been spoken in centuries was moving again.
Scene 3 — Tenebris and Gaia
Wind hissed across the rooftop.
Below, the city glowed like a counterfeit constellation—mortal light pretending to be eternal.
"Gaia," I said.
She emerged beside me, her radiance dimmed to something almost human.
Life's First Daughter. The one who breathed meaning into matter.
"You've begun again," she said softly. "The death seed answers."
"It rebuilds," I replied. "But the flesh keeps forgetting what it's supposed to be. The light fights the void. Neither wants to lose."
"Then make them agree," she said. "That's what you were born for."
For the first time in a millennia, we let our divinity fall away—two ancient things standing bare under a mortal sky.
No titles. No crowns. Just truth.
"The crown you gave me," I said. "It's still calling."
"It's a key," she answered. "When your vessel is whole, use it. Force yourself back into the world. But not before."
I studied my hands—black veins glowing faint gold beneath the skin.
"The Star that fell," she murmured. "For the first time, both laws of the stars — birth and ending — lean toward one soul. This is your golden moment."
Her voice cracked slightly on the word moment. Even gods knew when they were running out of them.
"I won't rush," I said. "I'll rebuild—perfectly. Bone tempered, soul aligned. Then I'll wear the crown and walk again."
Gaia nodded, eyes bright with something dangerously close to hope.
"Then begin, fallen star. Make the vessel worthy."
Her form fractured into motes of light and drifted into the night.
For a long time I stood there, feeling the pulse of two laws beating inside one heart — creation and conclusion, finally learning how to breathe together.
Scene 4 — Lily
"Why can't I find that damn book when I need it most!?"
My voice echoed through the academy library, bouncing off runes that glowed just bright enough to judge me.
The God of the Chase — the Hoarder of Secrets — was quiet in my head tonight, watching through my eyes like he always did.
"If I stop chasing, you stop seeing," I muttered. "That was the deal."
Then my hand brushed cold leather.
A Complete Guide to the Horrors of the Astral Sea — Compiled within the Book of Forgotten Suns.
The safe edition — unclassified, sanitized, still vibrating with something alive under the ink.
I flipped to the page I wanted.
White Flame of Life — heals the living.
Purple Flame of Demons — devours all not infernal.
Green Flame of Envy — burns the soul that hides want.
Flame of the End — seen only when a world nears its final cleansing.
It does not purify. It concludes.
The sole recorded wielder: the Burning Reaper, a wingless reaper whose golden fire blackened as it rose to the rank of Death Angel.
The lights snapped on.
"Still digging through taboo texts, Lily?"
Crow stood by the switch, expression somewhere between amusement and warning.
"It's an unclassified copy," I said, hugging the book. "Verification work. I need references before I touch the real thing."
He tilted his head. "You're the Traveler who researches taboos. Figures."
"And you're the Society's golden child," I shot back. "Here to snitch?"
He smiled slightly. "No. To make a deal."
That made me pause. "What kind of deal?"
"I have an original copy of the Odin Dairies. Huginn's annotations. You help me research Odin, I'll let you read it."
My heartbeat tripped. "You're serious?"
"Always."
I hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Deal."
Our hands met. The wards flared white, binding the pact.
When he left, the silence returned. I looked down at the illustration — the Burning Reaper. Its eyes were open now.
Black flames licked the edges of the page, then vanished.
Somewhere far away, a divine heart beat once in answer.
And I knew the moment I'd just stepped into a story older than the world that recorded it.