Pluto's gaze darkened as he took a slow step back, his divine aura crackling with restrained fury.
"How did you find me so quickly?" he asked, his voice carrying a sharp edge that sliced through the stillness.
Nous tilted her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. "Do you truly believe I wouldn't?" she replied. "You always underestimate how much I see, Pluto."
As her words echoed, the air behind her rippled — the portal that had carried her there still shimmered, a swirling breach between realms. One after another, five figures emerged, their divine presence filling the desolate world with light and storm. Six gods now stood before Pluto, their silhouettes casting long shadows across the broken ground.
He looked at each of them in turn, recognition flashing in his eyes — memories of old rivalries, and alliances long turned to dust. Then his lips curved into a cheeky, almost mocking smile.
But the smile froze.
A seventh figure stepped through the portal — calm, radiant, and overwhelming. When their eyes met, a deep chill raced down Pluto's spine. His divine heart faltered for the first time.
"Spadion…" he whispered.
The right hand of the All Father. A Greater God. The only being in all existence with that title.
For the first time in an eternity, Pluto — the god who had defied creation itself — felt fear.
Pluto's throat felt tight, his voice trembling despite himself. "What… what are you doing here, Spadion?"
The greater god did not answer immediately. His calm eyes, ancient and unreadable, merely regarded Pluto as if looking through him. The silence itself was oppressive — heavier than any aura, deeper than any abyss.
Behind Pluto, Demiurge's eyes widened as recognition dawned. "His Holiness Spadion?" he whispered, disbelief cracking his voice. "a greater god… the only one who has looked upon the face of the All-Father himself."
Kolpa, too, felt his knees weaken under the sheer pressure of Spadion's divine presence. His essence trembled — not from physical pain, but from the instinctive terror of standing before something far beyond his level of existence.
Then Spadion finally spoke, his voice calm, resonant, carrying a weight that seemed to ripple through the fabric of the world.
"Be at ease," he said. "I am not here to interfere. I owed Nous a favor — that is all. This matter concerns the seven of you, not I. Your world stands on the brink, and only its gods have the right to decide its fate."
His gaze drifted briefly toward Pluto before continuing,
"I am merely here to witness — to see for myself and report truthfully to the All-Father. Nothing more."
Even as he spoke, his authority filled the air — not aggressive, but absolute. His every word bent the silence into reverence.
Pluto's fear began to ebb, his breath steadying. The tremor in his divine essence slowly faded. He straightened, the spark of his pride returning.
Then, realization struck him — cold and clear.
"That's how you found me".
He turned his eyes toward Nous, the faintest trace of respect mixing with irritation.
"You used his ability…" he muttered.
Nous's calm smile was her only response.
Spadion's gift — the power to consume worlds and birth new ones — was beyond comprehension. Only three others in all existence could weave creation from nothing, and those were the Supreme gods themselves — and yet Spadion stood among them, a being who could unmake universes as easily as he could forge them.
And now Pluto knew — Nous had borrowed that impossible might to drag him out of hiding, tearing through dimensions until even his sanctuary crumbled before her sight.
Nous's voice cut through the charged air once more, calm yet absolute. "End it, Pluto. End your manipulation of the mortals before I make you."
Pluto didn't respond this time — his grin lingered, faint but unwavering.
"You've turned them against each other," she continued, her tone sharpening. "You've made them shed blood over lands and titles that don't even exist. Whole nations at war over illusions — phantoms crafted from your tampering with their memories."
She took another step closer, the faint hum of divine energy radiating from her. "You bent time itself to twist their recollections, to make them believe in wounds that were never inflicted, and debts that were never owed."
Still, Pluto said nothing. His eyes gleamed, cold and ancient, his grin deepening as though he enjoyed the accusation.
Nous drew a breath, her expression tightening. "And that isn't all, is it?" she said quietly. "You're planning something far worse."
Demiurge looked up sharply, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Worse?.. have she figured out our true objectives?"
Nous's gaze remained fixed on Pluto. "You seek to create the abominations the All-Father once forbade — the Dragon Gods."
even though the other five gods knew this already, it still wasn't enough time to recover from the shock. Even Spadion's brow furrowed faintly, as he too didn't know the full extent of Pluto's ambitions, though he remained silent.
"Revenge, isn't it?" Nous said, her voice soft, almost sorrowful. "You want to use them against the All-Father. But it's a foolish plan, Pluto — a desperate one."
The silence that followed Nous's last words stretched long and heavy — until a gentle voice broke through it.
"Pluto," Bois said softly, stepping forward. His aura was calm, like the whisper of a still ocean beneath starlight. "Give it up, old friend."
Pluto's grin didn't fade, but his eyes shifted toward Bios — that quiet god whose words often carried more weight than thunder.
"The All-Father is merciful," Bios continued. "He always has been. Whatever you've done, He will forgive you if you end this madness now. There's no need to drag yourself — or the rest of creation — into ruin."
He paused, his tone now edged with warning. "The Dragon Gods are not something a true god can control. They were forbidden for a reason. You don't possess the divine soul energy needed to bind even one of them. You'll destroy yourself, Pluto… and everything else along with you."
The air trembled faintly as Bios's words settled, the plea hanging between them like fragile glass.
But Pluto only smiled wider — silent, unmoved. That same grin, carved deep like it had been forged from defiance itself.
Then a voice broke the stillness.
"Uh… guys?" Nea Zoi's tone carried an odd mixture of humor and unease. "Is it just me, or is she—" He pointed toward the ground where Mera lay behind Kolpa and Demiurge. "—glowing?"
The gods turned.
A faint radiance pulsed from Mera's body, soft at first — then growing, rhythmically, like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient. The light wasn't divine… it was primal, unstable, and alive.
Nea Zoi scratched his head nervously. "Unless she suddenly decided to ascend midnap, I think we've got a problem."
Then realization struck him — and, one by one, the others understood.
Nous's face paled. Even Spadion's calm expression tightened ever so slightly.
"No…" Nous whispered, her voice breaking.
But Pluto finally spoke — low, amused, and terrible.
"You're not too late," he said. "You're simply… too slow."
The light behind them flared, casting long, trembling shadows across the ruined world.
Mera's unconscious form glowed brighter, her divine essence twisting into something unrecognizable.
And then Nous understood.
"The Dragon God…" she breathed… "…he's already created it."
Her gaze darted toward Pluto — who stood in silence, smiling like a god who had just rewritten fate itself.
"Mera…" Nous whispered, horror creeping into her tone. "…is carrying it in her womb."
The silence that followed Nous's revelation was broken by a low, almost amused chuckle.
Spadion.
He folded his hands behind his back, his eyes glinting faintly with restrained interest. "Well," he said, his tone calm yet brimming with ancient amusement. "Things are about to get… interesting."
Every god turned toward him. Even Pluto's grin wavered slightly — just enough to betray that he, too, was wary of what the greater god might say next.
"I must admit," Spadion continued, his voice echoing faintly across the broken world, "I am surprised by how far you're willing to go, Pluto. Your ambitions burn brighter than I expected — and your recklessness… even brighter still."
He tilted his head, studying Pluto as though examining a puzzle piece that shouldn't exist. "But that's not what truly surprises me."
The air stirred around him as divine energy rippled, weightless yet crushing. "No," Spadion said softly, "the real surprise… is that you still exist."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "By all rights, the act of creating a Dragon God should have erased you from this plane — body, soul, and memory alike."
The tension in the air cracked. Then, from the side, Nea Zoi leaned toward Bios, whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Looks like your father's actually impressed by Pluto."
Bios blinked, his face turning slightly red beneath his divine composure. "Father," he said with a forced, polite smile, "could you at least hide the fact that you're impressed by the traitor of the heavens?"
A few of the gods tried — and failed — to suppress a chuckle.
Spadion glanced toward his son, a rare laugh escaping him — low, genuine, and deep enough to shake the dust of ages from the air. "Ah, forgive me, Bios," he said, amusement flickering in his tone. "You're right. Admiring a traitor does have its… optics."
He turned his gaze back to Pluto, his expression shifting back to solemn intrigue. "Still, credit where it's due. Creating a Dragon God isn't a feat any god should even attempt — not even I."
The words carried weight. Even Nous looked at him in silent shock.
"The divine soul energy required is beyond comprehension," Spadion continued. "Even with a catalyst, the strain would annihilate the creator's existence. It's suicide — pure and simple."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "And yet, here you stand, Pluto. Broken, weakened perhaps… but alive."
He took a slow breath, his tone turning almost reverent. "Truly… impressive. You didn't just summon a Dragon God. You birthed it — and still walk this existence."
For a long moment, no one spoke. The truth of Spadion's words hung heavy in the air — a divine miracle born from blasphemy.
Nous clenched her fist, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "Then tell us, Spadion… how? How did he do it?"
Spadion's gaze flicked toward her, calm and knowing. "That," he said quietly, "is what even I wish to understand."
He looked at Pluto again — and this time, even the greater god's eyes carried a hint of unease.
For a long moment, none of the gods spoke. The air was heavy with Spadion's words until Mata finally broke the silence.
"It doesn't matter how he did it," she said, her voice cool and resolute. "Or how he's still standing after committing such a sin against creation. What matters now is that we stop whatever he's doing on Earth—before the mortals tear themselves apart—and we take Mera from him before that abomination awakens."
Her words settled like judgment.
That was when Pluto began to laugh.
It started low, a sound like the crack of distant thunder, then grew louder until his voice echoed across the dead world. His aura flared, dark and wild, shaking the air around him.
"You still don't understand," he said between fits of laughter. "You think I did all this—risked my very existence—for something as petty as revenge against the All-Father?"
His grin widened into something feral, divine madness flickering in his eyes. "No. My vision is far greater. I do this not out of spite, but purpose. I will become the one true god, the absolute ruler of all existence. The All-Father, the six of you, every incompetent deity that clings to life—I will erase you all and build a cosmos that finally obeys only one law… mine!"
He extended his hand, and behind him his loyal subordinates appeared, their auras intertwining with his in readiness for war.
"Come then!" Pluto roared. "If you believe you can stop me—try!"
The air trembled, splitting with divine light.
The six gods exchanged silent glances. Each knew what had to be done. Words were meaningless now. Only force would decide the fate of world.
They took their stances, divine energy flaring around them like the birth of new stars.
Spadion, true to his word, stepped back—his expression calm, detached, yet quietly fascinated. "This is your fight," he said softly, moving several paces away.
Beside him, Nea Zoi stretched lazily, yawning as he waved at the others. "Well, good luck everyone! Am rooting for you; I'd hate to waste the trip."
Meta shot him a glare that could have frozen suns. "you lazy god" she said coldly, "an unimaginable punishment awaits you if you do not get your lazy, idiotic self right her now."
Nea Zoi froze, eyes wide. "You wouldn't…"
She narrowed her stare toward him. "Try me."
In an instant, Nea Zoi appeared beside her, straightening his armor and summoning his aura with a nervous grin. "See? I was just—uh—stretching before battle."
A ripple of laughter escaped Spadion. "Ah, poor Nea Zoi," he said with amusement. "Even in the face of war, love still finds a way to make fools of gods."
Meta's face flushed crimson, but she shook it off as she ignored him, her focus fixed on Pluto.
The ground beneath them began to fracture, divine energy building to a cataclysmic crescendo.
The war of gods was about to begin.
The six gods had no time for speeches or hesitation. Their strategy was simple — strike fast, strike hard.
Pluto was no ordinary adversary. Before he ascended to true godhood, he had been a warrior unlike any other — a being whose combat mastery was legendary even among the divine. None of them dared to take chances against him.
"Desmos, Bios — take his subordinates out first!" Said Nous taking command with the permission of Bios, as the goddess of war and wisdom, and also the Orchestrator of the plan they had, — her voice cutting through the crackling storm of divine energy.
Bios moved first. His eyes gleamed with radiant purpose as he raised his hand skyward. "Light of Creation!"
A surge of brilliance exploded outward — pure, blinding, divine. The battlefield was drowned in golden illumination so intense it warped the air itself. Demiurge and Kolpa staggered, shielding their faces, blinded by a force born from the very essence of life.
Before they could recover, Desmos followed, his illusionary aura twisting around them like a silken fog. His voice was calm, almost soothing. "Sleep, children of the rouge god… I might not be able to manipulate memories with my illusions, but it's still very effective against any being," he murmured.
The light bent, reality folded — and in an instant, both Demiurge and Kolpa dropped to their knees, their eyes rolling back as Desmos's illusion swallowed their minds whole.
They collapsed soundlessly, asleep within a dream woven from Desmos's will.
"Two down," Bios said, lowering his glowing hand, the light dimming around him.
From behind the six gods, the ground began to quake. A faint green glow pulsed through the cracks as divine power stirred beneath the surface.
Then — with a thunderous surge — enormous vines erupted from the earth, twisting and spiraling like living serpents. They wove together in a heartbeat, forming a massive cage of shimmering life-force that enclosed the space behind Pluto.
The vines pulsed with divine energy, unbreakable and alive.
Pluto's grin faltered for the first time.
"Now!" Mata shouted.
That was the plan all along. The skirmish with Demiurge and Kolpa was never their true objective — it was a diversion. Their real target was Mera.
Zoe moved in a blur of green and gold, her eyes glowing with focus. Her divine soul energy — the essence of life itself — pulsed through the vines as they tightened around the glowing figure on the ground.
Within the cage, Mera's unconscious body was safely sealed away from Pluto's reach.
"Got her," Zoe muttered, smirking slightly.
But her smirk faded when Pluto's roar split the sky.
"No!"
In a burst of raw, crimson light, Pluto shot forward — the air itself cracking under the weight of his speed.
He moved faster than even light should travel, reality bending as time shuddered to obey him. His eyes locked on Zoe, fury and panic burning through his divine form.
But before he could reach her—
CRACK!
A bolt of divine lightning split the heavens.
Nous appeared before him in a blinding flash, her golden hair whipping through the storm her own presence created.
"Enough!" she commanded, her voice booming with authority as her lightning met Pluto's time-torn aura.
The clash was instant — chaos and order colliding in a surge of energy so fierce it tore the air apart. The shockwave sent the other gods staggering back, cracks spreading across the very ground they stood upon.
Pluto's eyes blazed with defiance. "Step aside, Nous. That Dragon belongs to me."
Nous's lightning flared brighter, surrounding her like a storm given form. "Not anymore."
Their powers met again — light and time crashing together, rewriting reality around them.
Behind them, the cage pulsed brighter, Zoe reinforcing its strength as Mera's glow began to pulse faster — the heartbeat of something far greater stirring within her.
The glow around Mera's body began to pulse faster — stronger — until it illuminated the entire battlefield with a radiant, chaotic light. The energy was unstable, alive, and ancient. The Dragon God's essence was stirring, struggling to be born.
Zoe's eyes widened in alarm. "No, no, no—this can't be happening already!" she turned sharply. "Nea Zoi! Now! Activate the next phase!"
Nea Zoi blinked, startled from his usual lazy calm. "Wait—now?!"
"YES, NOW!" Zoe roared, panic breaking through her voice. "Before it's too late!"
Without another word, Nea Zoi's expression hardened. His divine shadow rippled outward like liquid darkness, spreading beneath the cage and swallowing it whole. The vines trembled, then dissolved into the dark void.
In a heartbeat, Mera's glowing form vanished through the shadow gate.
She reappeared far behind the lines — inside the radiant dome that Bios had been constructing throughout the fight. The barrier pulsed with creation energy, a luminous sphere woven from the essence of existence itself. It hummed with stability — a sanctuary meant to contain even a god's birth.
Bios stood at its center, his hands raised, his entire being focused on sealing the barrier completely. "Almost done," he muttered under his breath, sweat — or something divine like it — glistening on his face. "Just a few more seconds—"
But Pluto noticed.
His head snapped toward them, eyes blazing with fury and disbelief. The space around him fractured, light bending to his rage.
"YOU DARE!"
His aura exploded, collapsing the air into a shockwave that flattened even divine stone. Nous tried to intercept him, lightning surging as she called down thunder from the heavens —
But Pluto moved.
Faster than light.
He appeared before her in less than a heartbeat and struck her with a single devastating punch. The impact was cataclysmic — a collision of pure divinity.
The world split open.
Nous's body was hurled across the horizon, crashing through a mountain range — the peaks shattered like glass, disintegrating into clouds of dust and energy.
"NOUS!" Zoe screamed, Then went after Nous… Pluto was already gone, a streak of crimson light cutting through space.
He reappeared beside the glowing barrier where Bios and Desmos stood, both channeling their combined powers into its completion.
"Finish it, Bios!" Desmos shouted, illusions wrapping around the barrier like shields. "He's coming!"
But Pluto was already there — his hand raised, his aura swirling with time and destruction. His voice thundered with hatred and resolve.
"I will not let you cage what belongs to me!"
He struck.
The blow tore through layers of reality — the shockwave rippling through the heavens themselves.
Bios and Desmos braced, light and dream uniting against the assault, struggling to hold the barrier together before it could collapse.
The world trembled.
Spadion stood at a distance, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. The divine storm raged below — light and shadow, creation and destruction twisting together in a blinding clash. He said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.
He was watching closely.
Every motion. Every surge of power.
He could feel the weight of the moment pressing against him, the temptation rising within his chest. Every fiber of his being screamed to step in — to join the battle, to tip the scales — but he had sworn.
"This is not my world," he reminded himself quietly. "Not my war."
Unless the threat spread beyond this realm — unless Pluto's ambition tore through the veils of existence — he would remain a bystander.
For now.
Beneath him, the battle reached a crescendo.
Pluto had cornered Bios and Desmos, the very earth quaking beneath his divine fury. His aura distorted the air, shredding light itself as his hand cracked against the radiant barrier. Each blow bent creation, sending ripples of divine energy through the fabric of reality.
"Just a little more!" Bios shouted, straining to hold the structure together.
Desmos's voice followed, tense and determined. "He's breaking through—!"
Then, just as Pluto raised his hand for one final strike—
A blast of raw force hit him square in the chest.
He was sent hurtling backward like a meteor, crashing into the ground with enough power to carve a crater miles wide. The explosion of dust and divine sparks lit up the battlefield like a new dawn.
Bios and Desmos shielded their eyes, stunned.
When the haze cleared, a lone figure stood between them and Pluto's smoking crater.
Meta.
Her eyes burned with divine focus, her presence shifting the world around her.
"Enough," she said coldly.
With a motion of her hand, the seasons themselves responded — the winds howled, lightning rained from the heavens, and molten fire erupted from the earth's core. Each element twisted together, forming a storm of unimaginable destruction.
The battlefield bent to her will…. She sent the fury of her seasons towards Pluto.
From the dust Pluto rose. Slowly, inexorably. His body mended with eerie precision, divine flesh knitting back together.
He smirked, brushing dust from his shoulder. "You should have stayed out of this, Meta."
In an instant, he vanished.
Meta barely saw the blur before pain erupted through her chest. Pluto's hand tore through her, his fingers piercing divine flesh.
She gasped — blood shimmering like liquid light spilling down her robes.
"META!" Nea Zoi's voice cracked across the field.
He froze, disbelief giving way to blind rage. The lazy glint that always lingered in his eyes was gone — replaced by something primal and furious.
He dove into his shadow, disappearing in an instant.
The next moment, he was beside her — catching Meta as she collapsed, her breath shallow, her light fading. He pulled her close, the world around them trembling as his aura began to surge.
But Pluto didn't stop.
He was already gone again, a streak of divine crimson, racing back toward Bios and Desmos — toward the barrier that was almost complete.
Meta's divine glow flickered weakly as her divine healing light cascaded over her. The wound was severe, but not fatal — Pluto's strike had missed her divine core — her soul pull, by a fraction.
Nea Zoi let out a shaky breath, his body trembling — not from fear, but from the storm raging inside him. Relief washed over him like a tide, but beneath it brewed something darker… hotter.
Rage.
Pluto had touched her — hurt her — and something primal within Nea Zoi snapped.
For the first time in his immortal existence, the god of Death felt the full burn of vengeance.
He didn't yet realize what it meant — that the strange ache in his chest was love, raw and buried under centuries of apathy. But he knew one thing with absolute clarity: Pluto would pay.