Thunder rolled through the heavens.
For the first time since the dawn of creation, Olympus itself trembled — not from rebellion or internal strife, but from something far greater.
From pure erasure.
The King of Erasure had manifested in full. His void-black form stood atop the shattered earth, his aura tearing holes through the fabric of reality itself. Every breath he took turned the air into dust. Every movement of his hand erased the colors from the sky.
He wasn't fighting yet. He was waiting.
The gods and titans arrayed themselves in formation across the horizon. They had all gathered — a force unseen since the First War.
Lightning and time. Sea and fire. War and wisdom. Shadow and light.
Every divine domain converged in one place.
Zeus stood at the front, his body wrapped in lightning that lit the broken heavens like the heartbeat of a dying sun.
Cronos floated behind him, time swirling like a storm at his back.
The Titans flanked them — Hyperion radiating gold, Atlas burning with the strength to hold the sky, and Themis shimmering with balance itself.
Poseidon raised his trident, oceans spiraling upward behind him.
Ares gripped his sword, embers of divine rage spilling from the blade.
Athena's runes shimmered across her armor, tactical symbols of a thousand wars glowing at her fingertips.
Even Hades stepped forward, cloaked in death's black flame.
And above them, the constellations dimmed, as if even the stars were afraid to look down upon the battlefield.
⸻
The First Strike
Zeus raised his arm high, his voice carrying across realms.
"All who stand for creation—stand now!"
He hurled his lightning spear forward. It screamed through the air like a meteor, slamming into the King of Erasure's chest with a blast bright enough to blind gods.
The explosion leveled mountains, splitting the ground for miles.
But when the light faded, the King still stood.
Untouched.
Unmoved.
He looked down at the faint scorch mark on his chest and spoke softly.
"Light that defies nothing still amounts to nothing."
With a flick of his wrist, Zeus's spear vanished.
Not shattered. Not destroyed. Simply gone — erased from existence.
Zeus staggered. "Impossible…"
Cronos stepped forward. "Keep the attacks continuous! Don't give him time to bend reality further!"
The titans obeyed.
Hyperion ignited, his solar fire burning through the darkness like the dawn itself.
Themis extended her hands, balance spiraling outward, creating barriers that split light from shadow.
Atlas raised the ground itself, pillars of raw matter forming from the earth to strike the King.
For a moment, the battlefield lit up like a miniature sun.
The King of Erasure didn't move.
He let their attacks hit — each one annihilating everything around him, shaking the very essence of the planet.
And then, as the smoke cleared, he was simply standing in the same place.
Not a scratch. Not a tremor.
Only that quiet, haunting voice.
"You cannot erase the void."
⸻
The Clash of Immortals
Poseidon roared, slamming his trident into the ground. "Then let's see if the ocean drowns it!"
A tsunami of liquid divine essence surged from behind him, roaring across the battlefield like a beast unleashed. Waves miles high crashed down over the King, flooding the landscape.
Apollo appeared above, his bow drawn, the sun itself behind him. "Let my light burn through the darkness!"
Arrows of pure plasma rained down.
Ares followed, charging in with fire erupting from his blade. "For Olympus!"
The King's body blurred. In an instant, his hand caught Ares's sword mid-swing. The fire extinguished.
Ares's eyes widened — before he was blasted backward by a pulse of pure nothingness, his armor evaporating into static.
Athena caught him midair, whispering an incantation, her light knitting his wounds shut. "Stay conscious, fool!"
Ares grinned weakly. "Never thought the goddess of wisdom would patch me up."
"I'd rather not see your head rolling before the plan even begins," Athena muttered, scanning the battlefield.
The plan. The seal. The desperate, half-formed hope Cronos and Hyperion had created.
But it wasn't ready yet.
They were buying time. That's all this was — buying time.
⸻
Divine Synchrony
Cronos raised his hands, golden sand pouring from his palms.
"Time Lock — Temporal Shift!"
The sands enveloped the battlefield, freezing the movement of energy, locking the void's expansion in place.
Every god synchronized their power to his rhythm — every heartbeat moving in time with his will.
For the first time, the King of Erasure slowed.
His motion fractured, his form struggling against the pull of time itself.
Zeus seized the chance. "Now!"
He and Poseidon charged, their auras combining — lightning and water forming a single spear of plasma that ripped through the heavens. They struck in unison, slamming their full divine might into the King's core.
The explosion ruptured space.
Reality screamed.
Even the King staggered back half a step, his form flickering like a dying flame.
The gods cheered, divine light rising in unity. For an instant, hope surged through the pantheon.
And then the King raised his head.
"You cannot bind what does not exist."
The sands of time disintegrated. Cronos gasped — the temporal field collapsed, and a pulse of darkness rippled outward.
One by one, the gods' auras faltered.
Hermes fell from the sky, wings burning away.
Ares hit the ground hard, coughing blood.
Apollo's light dimmed until only smoke remained.
Zeus screamed over the chaos. "Hold the line!"
But the King was already among them.
His movements were barely visible — one step, and Hades's scythe shattered; another, and Hephaestus's armor turned to dust. Each strike didn't kill — it erased.
Memories, histories, lifetimes — simply gone.
Themis cried out, her voice echoing through creation. "He's erasing the concept of existence itself!"
Cronos's jaw clenched. "Then we erase him!"
He raised his scythe, splitting open a pocket of pure time-space. "Hyperion! Now!"
The Titan of the Sun roared, channeling his fire through Cronos's temporal gate — fusing light and time into a single, blinding beam.
It hit the King dead center.
For a second, everything went silent.
And then — for the first time — the King of Erasure bled.
A thin streak of void-dark ichor dripped from his side, vanishing before it hit the ground.
Zeus's eyes widened. "It's working!"
The King smiled, a faint whisper escaping him.
"You've drawn blood from nothingness. Congratulations."
And then the world inverted.
A blast erupted from the King's form, not of energy — but of absence.
Every atom that existed within miles was pulled apart, sucked toward him, crushed, and erased in a silence more terrible than sound.
When it stopped, the battlefield was gone. Only a crater remained — a void so deep, even light refused to return.
The gods stumbled, battered and disoriented, their forms cracked and fading.
Cronos looked around, gasping for air, his divine core flickering. "He… he's adapting. He's learning from every attack."
Poseidon dropped to one knee, trident cracked. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
Cronos's gaze turned upward — to where the faint glow of a distant golden aura burned, far away. "We wait."
Zeus followed his gaze and understood.
"Valentine…"
⸻
The King's Declaration
The King of Erasure stood amidst the silence, looking down at his own hand where that single drop of black ichor had vanished. For a moment, his expression seemed almost… thoughtful.
"So even the void can bleed."
He raised his eyes toward Olympus.
And though his voice was quiet, every god, every titan, and every mortal across existence heard it.
"You've entertained me long enough. Now bring me the one you call Megumi Valentine."
Lightning shattered the sky again, but no one dared move.
Zeus's hands tightened around his fists, divine sparks crawling across his arms. "Over my dead body."
The King tilted his head.
"That can be arranged."
With a flick of his hand, the horizon split open — a thousand rifts tearing through space, each one pulsing with the hunger of annihilation. Reality was collapsing faster than the gods could mend it.
Cronos shouted, "Fall back to Olympus! Regroup and reinforce the barrier!"
The gods hesitated only a moment before obeying, vanishing in flashes of divine light. Cronos was the last to leave, his gaze locked on the King of Erasure until the void consumed the battlefield entirely.
And in the silence that followed, the King looked skyward again.
"Come, Fallen King. It's time you remembered who you truly are."