A week passed since Pluto's departure — seven long days that stretched endlessly for Jace. Each sunrise felt quieter, each night longer. He'd grown used to the silence by now, though a part of him always felt as though the world itself was waiting… waiting for Pluto to return.
Then, without warning, everything stopped.
The flame in the lamp froze mid-flicker, dust hung motionless in the air, and not even the wind dared to whisper. Jace looked around, heart pounding — and then he felt it: that familiar pull in the air, a ripple that distorted space itself.
A faint glow appeared before him, splitting open into a crack that hummed with soft, divine energy. The edges shimmered like starlight bending through glass, and from that tear, Pluto stepped through.
He looked almost the same — calm, composed, but with an aura that felt sharper, older somehow. The shadows around him danced faintly before fading as the rip sealed itself behind him.
"F-Father…" Jace whispered, a breath of relief escaping him.
Pluto's lips curved slightly. "I trust you've been patient, my son?"
Jace nodded, the tension leaving his shoulders. The god's return, even in silence, brought a strange comfort with it — like the world was right again, even if only for a moment.
As the rip sealed shut, the stillness around them slowly began to fade. The air regained motion, and the faint hum of time resumed its rhythm. Demiurge and Kolpa appeared moments later, both kneeling low before Pluto in solemn respect.
"Welcome back, my lord," they said in unison, their voices steady but filled with reverence.
Pluto gave a faint nod, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly. "Rise," he said. "Tell me — how goes the investigation?"
Kolpa straightened first, his silver eyes glowing faintly. "We've traced the heart of the coup, my lord. It all leads to a noble by the name of Jin dy Wickham — ambitious, cunning, but far too reckless. He's been moving in secret, even attempting to have young Jace assassinated."
Pluto's gaze shifted slightly, a quiet flame flickering behind his eyes. "He dared?"
Demiurge spoke next, his tone calm but edged with pride. "Yes, but his attempt was pitiful. He sent hired criminals to make it seem like a street attack — an effort to hide his hand even from his own allies. We dealt with them easily. The boy never even flinched."
Pluto's expression softened into a quiet satisfaction. "Good… and the others?"
Kolpa allowed himself a faint smile. "Still playing their parts, my lord. They drink with him, laugh beside him, and plot behind his back. Just as you commanded, Jace does the same — pretending to know nothing. It's almost… amusing."
Pluto chuckled under his breath, low and resonant. "That's how the game is played. Let the serpent believe it slithers unseen… until it finds itself coiled in my hand."
He stepped past them, his presence radiating calm authority. "You've done well. When the time comes, Wickham and his shadows will understand what it means to challenge divine order."
Pluto's gaze shifted at last to Jace. The divine light behind his eyes dimmed slightly, softened.
"Step forward," he said.
Jace obeyed, his curiosity mingled with quiet excitement. The air between them shimmered faintly, thick with divine energy, as if the universe itself leaned closer to listen.
Pluto regarded him for a long moment before speaking. "You've waited patiently, my son. The preparations are complete. I will grant you the power I promised — but before I do, you deserve to understand the purpose behind it. My purpose."
Jace said nothing, only nodded.
Pluto turned his eyes to the distant horizon, as though he could see beyond the stars themselves. "Long ago, I was betrayed — by those I once called my kin. The other gods turned against me, out of fear and envy. We clashed not in this world, but in a distant universe… a place unfit for mortal eyes. I was outnumbered, yet I refused to yield. When I realized victory would only lead to more ruin, I chose another path — one that would let me rebuild the world from the shadows."
His voice lowered, almost gentle. "That is why I need you, Jace. Because you and I… are the same. We both know what it means to be cast aside, to be judged before we are understood."
Jace's heart tightened. Hearing Pluto speak those words filled him with something deep — pride, belonging… and anger. Anger for Pluto's betrayal. Anger for how the gods treated him. In that moment, the other six gods became his enemies as well.
Pluto continued, his tone calm but carrying the weight of centuries. "My goal is simple — to reshape this broken world and guide it toward perfection. To become the one true god, not for glory, but for balance. The path will not be easy, and our enemies will not only be the three great powers of the world… but also the six gods themselves. They will come for us, without mercy."
Pluto left out deeper details of his involvement with the war between mankind, and being the cause of it. And how he attempted to create an abominable being — the dragon god — and that being the reason he battled against the other six gods, as they stopped him.
He looked down at Jace. "Will you accept that fate — and still walk beside me?"
There wasn't even a pause.
Jace stepped forward, eyes burning with resolve. "I already did, the day I met you."
Pluto's expression softened into a faint, knowing smile. "Then let us begin."
Pluto lifted his hand, and reality began to bend once more — the air rippling like disturbed water.
A fracture split open before them, stretching wide, its edges glowing with soft, ethereal light. "This ritual cannot be done here," Pluto said, his tone calm but absolute. "The mortal realm would shatter beneath its weight… and we must also conceal its presence from the other six gods."
He turned to Jace, Demiurge, and Kolpa. "Come."
Without hesitation, they stepped through the tear together.
The light around them faded, and they emerged inside an enormous, silent temple. The air was ancient — heavy with memory and divine power. Runes covered every surface: the walls, the ceiling, and the circular floor at the center, all glowing faintly with blue and gold lines that seemed to shift as they breathed. Twelve pillars surrounded the circle, each etched with words long forgotten by mortals.
Pluto's eyes glowed faintly as he stepped forward. "This place was once a sanctuary for divine creation," he said. "Now, it shall serve as the cradle of your rebirth."
He turned to Jace. "Step into the circle."
There was something in his tone — not hesitation, but an undercurrent of gravity. Even Demiurge and Kolpa exchanged brief glances, sensing what was about to unfold.
Jace swallowed hard, his pulse quickening, yet he stepped forward without question. His boots echoed softly against the marble floor as he entered the circle.
The runes beneath his feet responded instantly.
A faint hum filled the air as the symbols ignited, one by one, connecting in glowing veins of divine energy. Pluto closed his eyes and released his power, pouring his divine essence into the runes — merging it with the energies he'd gathered from fallen sub-gods. The entire temple began to tremble as the light crawled from the floor to the pillars, then circled back toward him.
The power surged.
Jace's body lit up from within, radiant and unstable. His breath came out ragged as arcs of pure energy lashed through the air. The pain hit like a storm — sharp, searing, unrelenting. He screamed, his voice echoing through the temple as the ritual began to devour and reshape him at once.
Jace's screams filled the temple, echoing against the stone pillars like the cries of a world being torn apart. The runes pulsed wildly, each flash of light more violent than the last, until the air itself shimmered with heat and raw divinity.
Pluto stood before the circle, his cloak stirring in the storm of power. His gaze never wavered, though his eyes carried a rare flicker of something human — hope.
"Endure it, Jace," he said quietly at first, almost to himself. "You must."
Then his voice rose, deep and commanding, carrying across the chamber like the word of creation itself.
"I am sorry, my son," Pluto said, the words echoing with restrained emotion. "But if you survive this — if you endure — you will rise as an unstoppable force. The world will kneel, and the stars will bear your name!"
He took a step closer, his expression fierce and unwavering. "Every theory, every design I've ever made has never failed — I have spent centuries perfecting this. I know it will work. But it is up to you to pull through!"
The runes flared brighter, their glow nearly blinding as energy poured into Jace. His body arched, trembling, veins burning with divine fire.
Pluto's voice thundered again, resonant and sharp as divine lightning.
"How much do you want it, Jace?! How deep does your hatred burn for those who wronged you — for the three great powers that mocked your birthright?"
The light burst outward in a wave that shook the entire temple. Demiurge and Kolpa shielded their eyes, unable to look directly into the storm. Awe etched across their faces — not fear, but reverence.
Kolpa whispered, "He's… changing."
Demiurge nodded slowly. "He's surviving."
And Pluto stood firm in the chaos, eyes glowing like two stars in the void, his voice calm now, almost proud.
"Good… show them who you are."
Then, without warning, Jace's body gave out.
The light in the runes began to fade, the tremors in the temple ceased, and the divine storm that once roared around them fell eerily silent. The air grew still, cold — as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Jace collapsed to the floor, his body motionless.
Pluto's expression hardened, the echo of divine power still flickering faintly in his eyes. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the fallen boy, each one echoing softly in the quiet. Demiurge and Kolpa followed, though a hesitant unease lingered between them.
Demiurge knelt beside Jace and pressed two fingers to his neck. His expression darkened. "There's… no pulse," he said at last, his voice low. "He's gone."
For a brief moment, the temple was silent — the kind of silence that carried weight.
Pluto's eyes closed. A long breath escaped him, more weary than sorrowful. "So close…" he murmured. "After everything."
Jace's body was a ruin of charred flesh and fading light, his face barely recognizable. Kolpa exhaled softly and said without emotion, "What a waste."
But then—
A faint glow pulsed from beneath Jace's skin.
Demiurge froze, eyes widening. "Wait…"
The glow spread, veins of silver light running across his body, brightening until it drowned the shadows. Demiurge and Kolpa stepped back instinctively, the air thick with reborn power. Only Pluto remained where he stood, eyes fixed on the boy, his calm returning.
The body began to heal — the burned flesh mending itself, new skin forming, stronger, flawless. Muscles reformed and tightened, his frame growing taller, more defined. His once-black hair shimmered, shifting hue until it gleamed silver — the same luminous shade as Pluto's.
Pluto's lips curved slowly into a smile. The quiet pride in his eyes spoke louder than words.
He had done it.
His creation lived.
"Welcome back," Pluto whispered, voice almost reverent. "My son… my masterpiece."
Kolpa stared at the figure before them — the boy who had moments ago been a lifeless husk. The divine energy still flickered faintly around Jace, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
For the first time, a trace of genuine respect touched Kolpa's eyes. "To survive that…" he murmured under his breath. "Perhaps he truly is worthy of the master's favor."
Demiurge said nothing, still studying the impossible sight before him — Jace's rebirth. The air was thick with divine residue, heavy enough to make even lesser gods falter.
Then, a faint sound broke through the silence.
A breath.
Jace's fingers twitched against the marble floor, his chest rising slowly. The glow surrounding him dimmed into a steady radiance, no longer wild or consuming — controlled, powerful.
His eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes no longer the deep shade they once were, but gleaming with a faint silver hue, mirroring Pluto's own.
He groaned softly, pushing himself up, disoriented but alive. "Wh… what happened…?"
Pluto's expression was one of calm pride, though the faintest smile still lingered on his lips. "You survived, my son," he said softly. "You've done what no mortal — no god — has ever done before."
Kolpa folded his arms, nodding slightly. "Impressive," he admitted. "I'll give him that."
Demiurge smirked faintly. "He's not the same anymore."
Jace looked at his hands, now faintly glowing with divine essence, veins of light pulsing beneath the skin. He could feel it — the power, vast and endless, coursing through him like a living flame.
Pluto stepped closer, his tone low but filled with pride. "You've been remade, Jace. The mortal in you is gone. What stands before me now… is my chosen heir. My Demi-God".