High atop the golden spires of Valaskjalf, within the radiant throne hall that overlooked all realms, Odin stood before the great window that faced the void beyond.
His single eye, glimmering with the faint traces of near-omniscient sight, was locked upon the distant expanse of Helheim.
There, far beyond the reach of Asgard's light, he could feel it—an overwhelming, suffocating pressure that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of creation itself.
The air trembled, the light dimmed, and the cosmic threads of fate twisted ever so slightly under the weight of a presence that was beyond anything he had ever known.
Odin's fingers tightened around Gungnir's shaft. His breath caught in his throat, his godly heart pounding in disbelief. So this… this is the power of a Transcendent?
His mind struggled to grasp it.
That vast, silent authority that emanated from Hades' being wasn't merely divine might or supreme magic, it was existence itself bending in reverence.
