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[POV — Azazel] [Nordic Territory — Odin's Hall]
CREAK…
The massive hall door groaned open, revealing a space that slled of ancient wood and forgotten power. Azazel walked in with that ironic smile he wore like armor, hands in his pockets—way too casual for soone about to negotiate with a god.
Odin sat on the throne as if the weight of the world had finally found his shoulders. The single eye glead with sothing Azazel knew well—fear disguised as caution.
"Azazel," the All-Father's voice rolled through the hall, low as distant thunder. "You ca."
"As if I had a choice," Azazel answered, dropping into a chair without being invited. "When big Odin calls, we pick up. Or die trying to ignore it."
Heh.
A dry laugh escaped the Norse god, but there was no humor in it. It was the sound of soone who had seen the future and didn't like what he found there.
"The armistice among the three factions," Odin began, fingers drumming on the armrest. TAP–TAP–TAP. "It's real, then? Heaven, Hell, and the Fallen finally stopped killing each other?"
"For now," Azazel shrugged. "As long as there are bigger threats to worry about, everyone's going to pretend they like each other. Basic politics."
"And this… Yuuki Rito."
The way Odin said the na made the air heavier, as if the word itself carried cosmic weight.
"Ah, yes. Him." Azazel smiled, but sothing had shifted in the smile—respect? Fear? Maybe both. "The kid who brought God back from the dead. Literally."
SLAM!
Odin smashed a fist into the throne's arm, the echo rattling the entire hall.
"That should not be possible! God was dead! The balance… everything was set!"
"Right," Azazel agreed, pulling a bottle of sake from nowhere. "But the boy didn't care much about that. And now we've got the Creator back on the board. Admittedly inconvenient."
Odin stood and walked to the window that looked out over the frozen horizon. Outside, the snow fell like tears from the sky.
"Ragnarök approaches, Azazel," he murmured, voice weighed down. "I can feel it in my bones. Loki moves in the shadows. Fenrir is restless. And my son…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
"That's why you want in on the peace deal," Azazel concluded, taking a sip. "Not out of kindness. Because you need allies when the world ends."
"Exactly." Odin turned, that single eye burning with resolve. "Alone, we'll be destroyed. Together… we might stand a chance."
Azazel stayed quiet a mont, rotating the bottle in his hands.
"You know what's funny?" he said at last. "For millennia, we fought each other. Heaven versus Hell. Angels versus Demons. And now, when we finally agree to stop… it's because we're afraid of sothing worse."
"Fear unites faster than love," Odin replied, bitter. "I learned that long ago."
WHOOSH.
Wind howled against the windows, as if fate itself were listening.
[POV — Serafall] [Kyoto — Yasaka's Temple]
DING… DING… DING…
Temple bells chid softly, filling the air with a lody that soothed even the most frayed nerves. Serafall Leviathan—one of the Four Satans of the Underworld—sat cross-legged on the tatami, trying to look serious.
Key word: trying.
"Lady Yasaka," she began, using that cheerful tone she wielded to disarm tension, "thank you for receiving !"
Yasaka, leader of Kyoto's yokai, smiled gently. The kitsune was elegance personified, every motion asured like an ancient dance.
"The honor is mine, Leviathan-sama," she replied, pouring tea with ritual precision. "Though I must admit… your visit surprises ."
SIP.
Serafall took a sip, savoring the taste before speaking.
"I'll be direct, okay?"—her tone shifted, turning serious. "The three factions made a peace accord. Heaven, Hell, the Fallen. We're tired of fighting."
"And you want the yokai to join this accord," Yasaka concluded, far too sharp to need explanations.
"Exactly!" Serafall clapped. "Imagine: all of us working together! No wars, no pointless conflicts! Just… peace!"
Yasaka set the teacup back on its saucer with care.
"Peace," she repeated, as if tasting the word. "A lovely idea. But the supernatural world has never known true peace, Leviathan-sama. Why would now be different?"
"Because now we have reasons to be afraid together," Serafall answered, all cheer drained from her voice. "Loki is moving. The Khaos Brigade hasn't given up. And there are other things… worse things none of us can face alone."
RUSTLE.
Yasaka's nine tails shifted, betraying tension she otherwise hid well.
"You speak of this… Yuuki Rito?" she asked carefully. "The human who isn't human?"
"That's the one," Serafall confird. "The boy who brought God back. The boy who made angels dance in the palm of his hand. The boy who… honestly, scares even ."
"And you want to trust him?"
"No." Serafall shook her head. "I want you to trust that if sothing big cos, we'll need to be on the sa side. Rito is… complicated. But he's not the enemy. At least, not yet."
Yasaka fell silent, gazing out the window where Kyoto spread like a living tapestry.
"The yokai survived for millennia by keeping distance from others' wars," she said at last. "But you are right. Tis have changed. Isolation may be more dangerous than alliance."
"So…?"
"I will attend the eting in the Underworld," Yasaka decided. "But I promise nothing beyond listening."
Serafall smiled, switching back to bubbly mode.
"That's all I need! Ah, it's going to be so fun! Everyone together, making friends, maybe even karaoke after!"
"Karaoke?"
"Joking!" Serafall laughed. "…Or not."
[POV — Uriel] [Celtic Territory — Fortress of Lugh]
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
tal striking tal echoed through the forge like a violent heartbeat. Lugh, the Celtic solar god, hamred a sword with enough force to make the floor tremble.
Uriel watched in silence, wings folded, posture relaxed but alert.
"You're going to punch a hole in the floor," he observed at last.
HISS.
Lugh plunged the blade into water, a cloud of steam billowing up.
"Better a hole in the floor than the world putting a hole in us," he said, voice rough as stone. "You brought news, Archangel?"
"Heaven and Hell have made peace," Uriel got straight to it. "The Fallen as well. We're extending invitations to other factions. Including the Tuatha Dé Danann."
Lugh dropped the hamr with a heavy THUD.
"Peace," he spat the word like poison. "Since when do angels make peace with demons?"
"Since we realized fighting each other only makes the real enemies' work easier," Uriel folded his arms. "Loki doesn't rest. The Khaos Brigade is regrouping. And there are worse things waiting in the shadows."
"And this Yuuki Rito?" Lugh asked, eyes shining dangerously. "I've heard rumors. They say he brought God back. True?"
Uriel hesitated a mont.
"True."
CRACK.
Lugh squeezed the hilt so hard hairline fractures appeared in the tal.
"Impossible," he murmured. "Dead doesn't return."
"Apparently, it does," Uriel answered, steady. "And now the Creator is back on the board. Which changes everything."
Lugh walked to the window, looking out at the sky where the sun burned like his own crown of fire.
"If God has returned… then the balance we kept for millennia is broken," he said thoughtfully. "And when balance breaks…"
"Chaos follows," Uriel finished. "That's why we need allies. That's why I'm here."
The Celtic god stayed silent for a long mont, the weight of decision pressing on his shoulders like an invisible mountain.
"Where is the eting?" he asked at last.
"Underworld," Uriel replied. "Neutral ground. All leaders will be there. Odin. Yasaka. The Satans. Azazel. And…"
"Yuuki Rito?"
"Probably."
Lugh smiled, but it wasn't kind. It was the smile of a warrior who'd finally found sothing interesting.
"Then I'll go," he decided. "I want to see with my own eyes the human who resurrected God. And if he's a threat…"
"He isn't a threat," Uriel cut in firmly. "At least not to those who choose the right side."
"And which is the right side, Archangel?"
Uriel t the god's eyes.
"The side that survives what's coming."
[POV — Loki] [Hidden Dinsion]
Tsk.
Loki tossed the report onto the table with disdain, green eyes glowing with barely contained irritation.
"Peace accord," he spat the words like garbage. "What a pathetic joke."
He paced the dark room, each step echoing like a promise of chaos.
Ragnarök was his destiny. His purpose. The eternal cycle of Creation, Destruction, and Rebirth—this is how it worked. This is how it had always worked.
But that damn Odin, his wretched father, did everything to stop it. Everything.
"Indra ran back up his mountain," Loki sneered. "Hiding like a rat. Pathetic."
The Qlippoth. The Khaos Brigade. Everyone had pulled back. Everyone afraid.
Of a single na.
Yuuki Rito.
"That boy," Loki growled, fists clenching. "That damned boy who brought God back. He's ruining everything!"
But Loki wasn't called the Trickster God for nothing. He always had a plan. Always.
The report ntioned the next gathering. Underworld. All the leaders would be there—the Four Satans and their little sisters. Odin. Yasaka. Azazel and Barakiel. Uriel. Lugh.
And Yuuki Rito.
SNAP.
Loki cracked his fingers, a manic smile spreading across his face.
"A subspace," he murmured to himself. "I'll create a subspace. Throw the Satans' sisters inside. Let Fenrir, Midgardsormr, and Hel have a little fun."
He laughed, the sound echoing through the room like shattering glass.
"And when they die… the Great War starts up again. Everyone killing each other. Chaos returns. Ragnarök finally happens."
Loki picked up the report again, fixing on the na he hated most.
"And you, Yuuki Rito," he whispered, voice dripping sweet venom, "you're going into the subspace too. Let's see if you can bring God back when you're being devoured by my children."
FWOOSH.
Shadows in the room danced, fed by the pure malice spilling off the Trickster God.
The eting would be interesting.
Very interesting.
And when the smoke cleared, only chaos would remain.
Exactly as it should be.
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