What's up, everyone?
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The battlefield had long since ceased to resemble anything normal. The earth itself screamed in protest as divinities and immense energies clashed, fracturing the surroundings and causing them to suffer. But Gaia herself was part of this war and made sure the planet held. Just now, she had sent her own warriors, her own sons, to battle. The Gigantes had arrived, and they were out for blood.
Cracked earth groaned open beneath the weight of divine conflict, rough fissures glowing faintly with molten lava's red light. Storms roared overhead, where both Poseidon and Zeus raged, unnatural, layered storms of thunder grinding against thunder as if the sky itself were tearing its own throat open. Thor Odinson, who had been killed, had materialised on the battlefield as a puppet of Poseidon, angering the All-Father Odin and driving him beyond anger. He was livid.
But what was he to do about it? Poseidon knew how to deal with anything the Runemaster threw at him and returned each favour tenfold.
Divine ichor soaked the ground, gold and green and black mixing into something foul and active, pulsing faintly with stolen power. The divine energy, mixed with Gaia's residual power, as she used what was fed to her, turned it into abominations under her control.
Atlas stood at the centre of such devastation, a living monument to endurance and strength. His massive arms moved with the power of continental plates, every swing, cracking bones, bursting blood vessels and flattening gods and monsters alike. A proud Norse warrior evaporated by a backhand, reduced to nothing but red mist. A minor Greek god shattered against his forearm, bones folding like wet clay.
And yet, Atlas did not slow nor tyre. He was a relentless murder machine, on a quest to destroy all opposition.
And yet, things changed when the ground opened up. A sound reverberated through the battlefield, not the usual thunder, not the impact of two fists, but something different. Deeper, coming from below, like a continent that groaned as he pushed away, instead of moving towards another plate.
The earth split open, and from the large crack, the Gigantes emerged.
The eldest among them emerged first, tearing himself free from Gaia's loins with a roar that shook the horizon.
Alcyoneus. The Bane of Hades had arrived on the battlefield.
He rose to his full, impossible height, towering even over Atlas, his presence pressing down on reality itself. He was larger than the Titans, which wasn't supposed to be that way. But Gaia had taken her time and considerable power to bring them forth. His skin looked like stone, veins of dark green light, looking like poison roots along his arms. His eyes burned with inherited contempt.
"DOOOOOMMMM!"
The first word out of Alcyoneus was a verdict. He said it so final that one might actually believe it. But unlike others, the eldest of the Gigantes could put his money where his mouth was. Atlas barely had time to turn before a foot the size of a fortress slammed toward him.
The impact cracked the ground below Atlas as he caught the foot with both his hands. Both of his arms were locked around the descending limb. His muscles bulged grotesquely as the Titan of Strength was driven to one knee. The ground beneath him collapsed further, shockwaves ripped outward and hurled cannonfodder's bodies in every direction.
For a moment, it looked like Atlas might lose in a contest of strength. But then... he snarled and pushed back.
He pushed against the ground, making the earth groan. Atlas forced Alcyoneus's foot upward, making his veins stand out like cables underneath his skin, as raw strength met the Gigantes' monstrosity.
"HAHAHAHAHA. You struggle well, Titan," the Giant rumbled. "But you cannot kill me."
He leaned forward after Atlas managed to push him off. The Gigantes' shadow swallowed Atlas whole.
"I chose this land."
Power surged outward from Alcyoneus' body; the ground itself responded, reinforcing him and anchoring him. Gaia's blessing had wrapped around him like an unbreakable vow.
Immortality. Alcyoneus was immortal in the actual conditional, but absolute sense. No one could kill him, not on the land he chose. And he had selected the land where he had appeared—the land where the war was taking place.
Before the clash could escalate further, however, a new presence slammed into the battlefield similar to Alcyoneus before. Another strong and tall figure charged in from the side, his eyes glowing with excitement and fury.
Vidar, the Norse god of strength. He did not shout or posture. He simply attacked Atlas right away, without warning.
His fist crashed into Atlas' side with enough force to crack mountains, the impact detonating into a shockwave that blasted nearby fighters through the air. Atlas staggered, surprise flashing across his massive features as Vidar followed up with another brutal strike, then another, each blow fueled by his challenge and desire to prove superiority in terms of strength.
"I want a piece of you," Vidar growled. "And I'll get it."
"ROOAARRR!!"
Atlas roared as the battlefield around them further devolved into chaos. Atlas was a construct. Poseidon had created him, so he wasn't truly capable of speech, but still functioned as Atlas did when Poseidon absorbed his ichor.
Alcyoneus was satisfied for the moment and turned away from the struggle. His gaze locked onto another figure, the one he was meant to oppose, meant to kill, to wreck and humiliate utterly. It was melded into his very being.
Hades.
The god of the Underworld stood locked in combat with the honourable and brave Balder, the battlefield around them a strange mixture of burnt patches through Balder's light and frozen areas from Hades' shadows. Balder shone like a star, radiant and mighty, even as cracks appeared in his defence and he was pushed on the defensive.
Hades advanced slowly, inevitably. He wanted to end this fight, but wasn't feeling very good about it. He had gotten a sense of Balder's character and realised he wasn't a bad man at all. He was full of bravery and loyalty as well as honour and truth, so much unlike Odin and his adopted brother Loki. But this was war, and no matter what Hades felt, he would not hinder their war effort by being indecisive.
The Helmet of Darkness rested upon his head. Fear rolled outward from him in waves. Existential, like the weight of the inevitability of death. This gradually slowed Balder's movements, and his breath hitched.
"Stand back," Balder commanded. "Your darkness will not defeat me!"
His voice trembled despite his efforts. He stood tall in the face of adversity, but he couldn't help but feel fear.
"It is not darkness that will defeat you," Hades replied calmly. "It's your God King Odin who doomed you."
Hades attacked, lashing out with several tendrils of darkness. Balder blocked, barely, his arms screaming in protest as the bident smashed into him.
"When this is over, you and your entire Pantheon will cease to exist. No one will ever remember that you existed."
Each second that passed, the Helm of Darkness' fear bit at Barlder more, eroding his certainty, strength, health and causing his light to flicker. Hades was stronger, and Balder knew it, and he was growing further, the more fear he showed, and those around him showed. As the death toll increased, Hades was empowered, and his army grew. That was a little gift from Poseidon, a little something called a Soul-Cutter Sword. It allowed Hades to harvest souls, and combined with his shadow manipulation, well, he was now a very dangerous god.
Before the killing blow could take Balder's life, the earth shook again, interrupting their fight. A shadow fell over them both, and Hades felt danger.
Alcyoneus loomed behind Hades, his presence like a molten giant pressing down on the Underworld itself.
"Hades," the Gigantes rumbled with hatred. "Little godline… today, you fall."
The Giant's fist came down. Hades swung his arm diagonally, throwing a curtain of darkness over himself, twisting aside at the last moment. The blow annihilated everything where he had stood. Hades turned invisible again and looked at Alcyoneus with apathetic eyes, something he seemed to have picked up from Poseidon.
"So the Gigantes had arrived. How... inconvenient."
.
Elsewhere, the waters and liquids themselves swirled and raged. Polybotes, the Bane of Poseidon, marched forward through the churning battlefield, his massive trident dragging trenches through the bloody battlefield. A net of pulsing threads hung loosely at his side, dripping with green venom that sizzled and smoked where it touched water. Surprisingly, it had almost no effect on the ground itself. But anything liquied was.
Polybotes' target was clear: Poseidon. He had been created to kill the god of the sea.
"POSEIDON! FACE ME!!"
In the distance, Poseidon tilted his head slightly. His eyes were full of pride and dismissal as he gazed at the Gigantes briefly. Then he turned his head again, not bothering in the slightest.
"YOUU!!" the Giant roared, but was interrupted by someone else.
Ahead of him, the monstrous stature of a Kraken rose from a large puddle of water. The monstrously large Krakens, towering far above the Gigantes, hadn't had a chance to showcase their might in this war yet, since everyone had been taken care of already. That was the power of the Sun Tide Pantheon: they could handle not one, not two, but three Pantheons at the same time.
[Picture]
They were enormous, carrying fragments of Poseidon's power within their colossally ripped forms.
Polybotes sneered.
"Good," he growled. "More to drain."
He thrust his trident into the water below, and it changed. Green poison spread outward, corrupting everything it touched and spreading weakness to anything related to Poseidon. The Krakens roared as the poison reached them, their movements slowing slightly as Polybotes' power reached out, draining the sea's authority from their very essence.
But these were Krakens, touched by Poseidon and turned into monstrous creatures. They weren't that weak to be defeated just like that.
Polybotes cast his net. The enchanted threads wrapped around one Kraken's leg, venom seeping into his very thick flesh and slowly bypassing his hide. The creature attacked the Giant, roaring in rage as its power was nibbled away slowly. Polybotes blocked the attack and advanced, feeling unstoppable, every step a declaration of war against those affiliated with the sea.
The second Kraken was ready, though, and attacked as well. Hismassive fist, smashing against Polybotes' side and forcing him to block the immense force. He realised that he would have to concentrate, or he would lose this fight, despite his advantage.
.
A distance away from the brutal physical fights, a different battle was taking place. Magic twisted reality in its purest form.
Three figures stood apart from the carnage. Their hands raised, and their eyes glowing with mystic power as they used their most advanced spells and tricks they could.
Loki smiled, or rather sneered in anger and disgust. He weaved illusions and conjured knives to attack. Enchantress whispered words of lust and promises of pain and torture, attempting to corrupt the woman in front of them. Finally, the witch Karnilla wove her cruel spells as well, adding to the agony of her enemy.
Illusions flooded the battlefield. Demeter screamed as she saw Persephone before her, bloodied, wide-eyed... striking at her with murderous intent. She had been placed under an illusion and started attacking the person she loved most in this reality. And now, the illusion shifted to Persephone, making her attack her mother instead. This was the worst emotional torture Demeter could think of.
"STOP!" Demeter screamed, pain and fury tearing her heart apart as vines erupted from the ground, binding her daughter.
"No—no, no, no—"
The illusion shattered, and reality slammed back into place. Persephone collapsed, badly injured by Demeter but alive, gasping in pain. Demeter fell to her knees beside her daughter, with shaking hands. Tears fell down her face as she tried to stop her daughter's bleeding.
Loki laughed softly.
"Oh, that never gets old."
Black ink suddenly crashed into Loki in a tidal wave. It swallowed him whole and turned all of his magic and the spells he cast off at once. The Illusions evaporated like smoke, washing away with the ink that hit him.
Demeter and Persephone blinked, awareness returning to the daughter. A figure stood nearby, ink dripping from his muscular arms. His eyes were calm and amused as he shook his head. He shouldn't, but he couldn't help but find the situation pathetically amusing.
[Picture]
"Take care of your daughter," Inkwell said. "And piss off, I'll handle these."
Demeter snapped at Inkwell, but did what he said. She embraced Persephone and backed away. Loki burst from the ink, screaming in rage and confusion.
"What did you do to me?!"
"Muted you," Inkwell replied calmly. "Well, not your voice... sadly."
Loki lunged at Inkwell, but realised that he couldn't use his magic at all. None of his spells worked. He roared and slashed his knives at Inkwell. Realising the situation, the witch acted fast. She was cruel and calculating, knowing that Odin wouldn't truly care about Loki right now, and if she could get this general of Poseidon's army under her control, he would most likely reward her.
So Karnilla created a spear of condensed magic and shot it through the air. The powerful magic pierced Loki's back, plunged into him and out on the other side, piercing Inkwell right after. Both of them looked at the witch in surprise.
"Kar... nilla... y-ou.."
Ink spilt out of Inkwell's chest, where his heart had been. The surprise on his face gave way to an impressed look.
A second later, Octopuses formed from the spilt liquid, leaping up and attacking Karnillaarnilla, their suckers burning with the same nullifying power as all of Inkwell's ink did. Surprised that he wasn't dead or incapacitated, Karnilla was hit. Her spells fizzled out.
Inkwell touched Loki's wound. Ink flowed inside the wound and closed it a moment later, healing him with the ink, but also taking him under his control.
"Hypocrisy suits you, adopted cunt," Inkwell laughed.
Enchantress stepped forward.
"Let's see how you handle this, monster."
Her hands glowed green as she activated her magic. It was supposed to be seductive, overwhelming the male's senses and will, a compulsion designed to enslave all men to her will.
Inkwell walked toward her. His eyes shone in a green hue. Seeing this, the enchantress smiled triumphantly. However, just as he stood before her, he splashed ink directly into her face.
"AAAAHHHH," she screamed.
"Hahahahahaha."
Loki broke free from the ink as Karnilla cast a spell, freeing him from it. His power came back, and he unleashed spell after spell, conjuring weapons and casting illusions on the general. But Inkwell met them head-on. His ink collided with magic, nullifying each attack.
The three sorcerers furrowed their brows in unison. They layered their magic together, creating tetra-spells of illusion, compulsion, and destruction.
Inkwell countered three of the four, but the last one detonated in his face. Ink blasted from his body as the explosion threw him back, his body turning to ink briefly before reforming into his previous stature.
The three sorcerers and witches could press the advantage, but the battlefield changed suddenly. Two new presences arrived at their side. A loud howl from the Wolf Fenrir split the sky, and the temperature dropped, growing eerie as the goddess of death's cold gaze seemed to freeze the battlefield.
Loki's children stepped forward, power rolling off them. Inkwell straightened. He was in no way scared about this, but he knew that the situation had turned harder right now. Handling not only three magic practitioners, but also Fenrir and Hela at once, was hard. Thankfully, he wasn't alone for long.
Another figure appeared beside him, surprising the powerful general of Poseidon.
Hecate.
Her mere presence made the ambient magic bend and sing. She felt ancient and powerful, like a different existence than the Norse gods. Hecate had a very special place in the cosmology of the multiverse, and Poseidon knew that. She had expressed her desire to join the Sun Tide Pantheon, and he had accepted as long as she also signed the same contract that everyone who wanted to join did. And now she was here, ready to fight at her Pantheon's side.
She looked at the witches, the wanna-be Asgardian, Fenrir and Hela with something like pity.
"Children," she said softly. "You play with sparks and call it fire."
She raised her hands, and magic danced to her desire. Spells turned inward, changed their nature, became null and appeared once more, changed to her will.
"I shall demonstrate what it means to use magic."
The battlefield trembled as Hecate rewrote the rules of sorcery itself. In the vicinity of their battle, she changed the rules to her liking, curbstomping the 'fledgling' magicians.
From another battlefront, someone else arrived. A member of another pantheon, the Ennead was also interested in adding her strength.
Isis, the Egyptian goddess of magic.
Her magic rose to meet Hecate's ancient power, colliding with it as the war entered a new, terrifying and rather final phase.
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We are entering the final phase of the war. After that, we're finished. But everyone needs some screen time.