Chapter 28
Scene 1 — Baldur in the Congressional Hall
The first thing I smelled in the congressional chamber was fear pretending to be moral outrage.
The joint session was already in full theater mode. Cameras tucked into every corner, staffers lining the walls, and above it all the oversized flag and seal of the United States glaring down like that meant anything to people who'd seen the Astral Sea.
Around me, a loose ring of American Travelers stood or sat in the visitor well and side aisles—my people, my monsters, dressed in suits, uniforms, and guild colors. They weren't posturing. They were watching. Waiting. The message was simple:
If this went sideways, the strength in this room didn't belong to Congress.
"Who are you to decide who we bring into this country? You aren't the leadership!"
The girl was on her feet in the front row of the House floor, one of the left-wing "squad" mascots they'd dragged toward the center aisle for maximum camera time. She jabbed a finger toward my table like I wasn't sitting in the middle of their so-called halls of power, with Travelers at my back who answered to me long before her party even knew what an Astral Tear was.
"You openly refuse to work with our party, but then you can demand anything from our party in our halls of power!"
Another one shouted from her flank, voice cracking on "power," the echo rolling up toward the galleries.
"You say you're the next part of humanity, yet you'd turn your nose up at the people of our homeland and other minorities! You should be labeled a criminal on par with Odin—that demon!"
That last line actually made me smirk.
There it was. The real reason these idiots had stood up to "demonstrate" in front of the American Travelers. Not justice. Not compassion.
The next generation they're trying to smuggle into our ranks.
Personal ties to those who came here claiming they know a better method, all while coming from backwater lands already absorbed by larger powers. Their kids, cousins, nieces and nephews sitting in the upper gallery seats, watching, hoping. These were the ones they wanted to slide into the upper society of Explorers using speeches instead of sacrifice.
I let my gaze move past the shouting faces to the rows of suited officials behind them: committee chairs, cabinet secretaries, party leaders. Grim faces. The current administration—traitors and snakes—watching their little performance, waiting to see if they could leash us.
Zeus' hearings and his mess had just been the appetizer. The signs and half-whispered slogans made it clear enough: to them, he was just a symptom. A convenient scapegoat for a larger rot.
These old witches, who for the love of God had zero access to astral energy, still thought they could force their crazy ideals on this generation after Artemis ripped the education system out of their hands.
"Are you done?" I asked, finally.
The floor quieted just enough for my voice to carry.
"If you are, then maybe you needed me to remind you why I'm referred to as the King of American Explorers. You have one of mine in your cages. Mind you, he's also the eldest of the current monsters you all labeled as dangerous.
"Concerning you using this as a chance to bring up stupid ideals of selling my country to your cousins and aunties? No. Tell them to do what we did—survive in the Sea and turn their country into a stronghold. If they aren't at least within SS-tier, then they are dead weight not worth bringing into my pantheon."
I stood as I spoke, letting my chair scrape back across the polished congressional floor. Then I released a controlled wave of pressure.
The microphones didn't pick up a sound, but the body of the chamber did. Wood creaked. Paper rattled. A few of the loudest representatives stumbled back a step, hands instinctively bracing on desks as their instincts screamed at them to reassess exactly what they were standing in front of.
On the upper level, a couple of younger staffers and aides grabbed the railing with white knuckles. My Travelers didn't move. They just watched the room with calm, predatory patience.
"That doesn't take away from you boldly ordering Chiron to purge minority identities out of the school system," one of the girls shot back, clinging to her script. "And now you want to ban all foreign students and Travelers because of a nationality bias. You are the bigots the Civil War was fought against!"
I locked eyes with the dumbest of the left wing, the one who hadn't realized yet that her so-called friends were all cowards who ran here first and now demand we give our homes to their people.
Truly a foolish saint whose IQ is lower than some of the goldfish I've met among Explorers like Lu Bu. Stupidity so stupid it reaches genius levels. Thankfully for our sake, she's not old enough or bold enough to be a part of the Explorers.
"Ha. Yeah, it's truly ironic that we, as Americans, would focus on our younger generation for the upcoming war between nations," I said. "If you want your party members' families to join us as Travelers, then tell them go independent and vassalize themselves to the Society.
"Just like our southern brothers decided to do—and even went the extra mile to officially join under my guild for resources for the normal humans there. Yet in this room I can only smell cowards and turncoats. When you realize Odin is too big of a target, I'll be here to save my foolish elders yet again.
"For playing with fire that burns."
I spat the words out with venom, watching their faces tighten, watching the ones with sense go quiet. The echoes of my voice rolled up into the dome and died there, leaving the chamber thick with the stance of the Travelers—and as their king, I was fully in agreement with them.
"You know, I would love to ignore you," I went on, "but I'll spell it out for you here and now.
"When the fighting starts, do you think the idealists you all brainwash into existence will last long? Did you think I would save your little toy soldiers who don't even touch B-rank as Travelers when you idiots finally send them out to attack another nation?
"Did you think about how I would respond to you trying to finance the government wing of my new allies to absorb them, by paying off mercenaries to defeat them? But you see, I don't have to make a move when I have talented Travelers and support teams you idiots only see as weapons.
"Come on. Cat got your tongue?"
I paused deliberately, letting the silence stretch as I pulled out a cigar and my flask right there at the witness table. A spark of concentrated light flared at my fingertip, catching the cigar's end. I took a long drink, then a slow drag, as the entire House floor stared.
"You see, the issue is that the weak people seem to think you hold any sway over the strong," I said, smoke curling toward the dome. "The smart ones who remained silent probably know that Wukong already demonstrated what happens when you play with a king.
"For the idiots who refuse to pay attention to the real news: Wukong went and found Guan Yu for using his name as a shield. Maybe that's the issue. You all have grown comfortable in the security I provide. If it wasn't here, most of you in here with even a small amount of astral energy are still targets for the Astral Gods Odin sealed away from you ungrateful mutts."
I let that truth hang over the chamber like smoke beneath the dome. Across the floor, a few of the louder mouths finally went pale.
In the upper gallery, one of my Travelers smiled.
They understood: this wasn't just a hearing.
This was a reminder of who actually kept this country alive.
Scene 2 — Oceanus, Erebus, Athena, Charles
"Dad, are you sure?"
Erebus' voice shook just enough to betray how much he hated the question he was asking. He was staring at me—his closest ally left on this earth—as Athena stood nearby, arms crossed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She couldn't help the way her instincts bristled; part of her still wanted to reject what he'd just asked outright.
"I guess you wouldn't understand fully yet, son," I said quietly. "So listen closely, Erebus. It's been a long time since I've had to speak about these order- and chaos-obsessed idiots called gods.
"Zeus is neither innocent, nor does he bear the full guilt. Athena has spent the last year verifying Zeus' story and searching for this so-called Dionysus of his inner circle. I shouldn't have to explain the gravity of a random idiot taking a name, do I? Especially one that's banned."
My grandson's head hung in embarrassment, shoulders hunched as if the weight of Chaos itself still rested on them. He'd been played like a fool while Chaos ran amok in his mind, and now he was left with that weird mix of shame and guilt that sticks to the bones. Athena had already dragged doctors in to scan him; neither of us were willing to gamble on him carrying a Chaos seed in his astral core.
It had already broken after Odin's arrival, fracturing the same way the world's illusions did. As if the Chaos inside it wanted to break out at the news.
Now he was forced to truly walk the path he'd forced himself onto. Erebus watched his son with a hint of his own shame, the kind I would've died before letting take root in him when he was young.
"Charles, your misunderstanding of Odin's actions isn't your fault," I said at last. "More ours than anything. But with a new perspective on life, I hope you can take lessons from this. You as well, Erebus.
"The seal on the Astral Sea that keeps the world out isn't meant for us. If you have one of these, then you're capable of entering the Sea at will."
I raised my hand as I spoke, letting a blue crystal materialize above my palm. The air around it bent, astral energy thickening as the Water Key appeared. Charles stared at it for a second before a look of ironic acceptance dawned over him—realizing how much he'd cursed a man who'd actually left him options.
"This is the Ocean—or Water—Key," I said. "It's more of a training manual than a key. Yet that doesn't matter. It's here to explain that I can return to the Sea at will. I don't, because I have responsibilities that my foolish best friend caused to befall all the Explorers.
"Most of your generation thinks Odin sealed us out of spite. At least those young enough not to know the elder figures when we first returned broken and half mad. I couldn't even recognize my own son."
My fingers closed around the key as images floated through the room with the astral energy I stirred. Worlds and realities shimmered in the air—places I'd been and seen within the Sea.
They twisted, shifted, then hardened into scenes of the deadly war we waged. Olympus vs the Divine Wars. Our alliance with Odin and his ragtag group to handle the Asura-corrupted groups. The Eastern powers tearing themselves apart in internal struggles while we bled.
Only to end in our defeat when Chronos couldn't accept being lesser than anything.
While we were stuck in madness, it had been Uranus who pulled me and Athena away, dragging us toward the one being who might salvage anything—Odin.
"Who eventually forced us out as he sealed the Tear behind him," I said, watching the memory of that last glimpse: Odin walking into the horrors alone as the Tear closed in his wake. "As I caught glimpses of the horrors that he fought."
"But wait, if Odin did that," Charles whispered, lifting his head, "then they've been lying to us about why we can't enter the Sea. It's not because he doesn't want—"
"It's because we aren't strong enough, and we've only gotten weaker," I finished for him, watching his forehead wrinkle as the truth finally collided with everything he'd been taught.
"No," I added, softening my tone, "you just lack access to astral energy. But with Odin's arrival, that problem will end soon. As more problems come behind him, like they always do."
Athena chuckled softly at that, unable to hide the old familiarity. The idea of Odin causing trouble like old times was almost comforting in its predictability.
Scene 3 — Thor, Crystal, Ghost
"So, Thor, how long have you known Odin has been back and running around in a younger form?"
Crystal's eyes were practically radiating enough killing intent to remind me she stood at our side in the old days—not behind it. Her aura pressed against the air, sharp, ready to carve answers out of me if words wouldn't do.
"Since when do I answer to you, Crystal?" I asked, grin tugging at my lips. "Last I checked, I've only ever answered to one person, and he's not here."
Her jaw tightened, the frown deepening.
"Quit playing secretive, Thor. I have zero time to play games with you today. If Nicole didn't express how needed your actions are in the underworld, I would've cut you down already for hiding this!"
Her power spiked, blasting the table between us apart in a shower of splinters as we held eye contact. Dust danced in the astral currents, but neither of us flinched.
"What's more important to you?" I asked. "Alexis, or Odin?"
The question cut sharper than any weapon. I saw her pause, the anger in her eyes flickering, vanishing for a heartbeat as something raw, unshielded rose to the surface. Then the rage snapped back into place, hotter.
"Don't bring my daughter into this, Thor. I'll bash your head in with that hammer you love so much if you keep trying to pit my daughter against my past."
Our gazes stayed locked, both of us too stubborn to blink, until a heavy slam shattered the tension.
Ghost dropped a fresh table between us like he was staking a boundary in the floor.
"If you two want to fight, then do it somewhere else," he said flatly. "Thor, this is coming out of your tab. She wouldn't be here if you weren't.
"And you, Crystal. After marrying Baldur, you of all people should be trying to let ghosts stay in the past. Either confront the man and tell him the truth, or shut up and eat the regret that drove you here."
He disrespected us both in a single breath, and that was the worst part—he wasn't wrong.
Crystal's eyes watered, the shine of tears appearing before she crushed them back down through sheer will. Her shoulders were tight, every muscle locked as she wrestled with an internal battle I had no intention of stepping into.
I'd warned her about this path. About what chasing a ghost like Odin while building a life with Baldur would cost her.
Now it had come full circle.