The sky above Olympus was unusually clear, a rare calm settling over the broken realm. The air was thick with quiet reverence, the weight of loss palpable in every breath.
A great gathering had formed in the grand plaza — gods and titans alike, mortals and immortals, warriors and those who had fought in the shadows. All had come to honor the man who had changed the fate of worlds: Megumi Valentine, the Fallen King.
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A Memorial for the Fallen King
Leonidas stood solemnly at the forefront, his usually fierce eyes softened with grief. Medusa and Nyx stood nearby, their faces etched with sorrow and pride. Ava held tightly to a small, delicate hand — her daughter, Chloe.
The altar before them bore a magnificent monument — a soaring statue of Megumi with his distinct black and gold wings unfurled, a halo shimmering faintly above his head. The statue captured the essence of a hero who had walked the razor's edge between light and darkness.
Zeus, Cronos, Poseidon, and the other gods stood in respectful silence, their divine pride tempered by genuine mourning. The war was over, but its scars remained.
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Speeches and Memories
Voices rose in solemn tribute.
Leonidas's voice rang clear and steady:
"Megumi Valentine was more than a king. He was a beacon in the darkness, a warrior who bore the weight of worlds on his shoulders. His sacrifice was the salvation of all — gods, titans, and mortals alike. Today, we honor his legacy, not as a fallen god, but as the man who dared to love and fight for a better world."
Medusa stepped forward, her eyes shining with tears:
"He reminded us that even the darkest curses could be changed, that hope could bloom in the most broken hearts. We carry his spirit with us, always."
Ava's voice trembled as she approached the microphone, her gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd:
"He was my love, the father of our child, and the bravest soul I have ever known. Megumi's story is one of light and shadow, loss and redemption — but above all, love. And from his sacrifice, our daughter Chloe was born, carrying his spirit and his promise."
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Time Passes — Chloe at Fifteen
The years drifted like the gentle fall of leaves. The world healed slowly, shaped by the echoes of the war and the memory of the Fallen King.
Now, fifteen years later, in a quiet home nestled away from the eyes of gods and men, Chloe Valentine sat beside her mother by a warm fireplace. The soft glow flickered across their faces, casting shadows that danced with the stories they shared.
Ava's voice was soft but firm as she spoke:
"Chloe, the story I'm about to tell you is not just legend — it's our history, our bloodline. It is the tale of the Darkened Halo."
Chloe's eyes widened with curiosity, her heart pounding with a mixture of awe and pride.
Ava continued, weaving the story of a man who had been both angel and shadow, a king who had faced gods and titans, who had borne unimaginable pain and made the ultimate sacrifice to save them all.
When Ava reached the end of the story, she looked deep into Chloe's eyes and whispered,
"That is who your father was. And who you are meant to be."
⸻
Just as silence settled over the room, the front door creaked open slowly.
Two worn boots stepped across the threshold.
A deep voice broke the stillness — calm, but tinged with humor and power:
"So… what did I miss?"
THE END