WHEN GODS TURN THEIR EYES
The disturbance did not ring like a bell.
It moved like a breath through creation.
Subtle.
Measured.
Contained.
But to beings who existed beyond time, beyond planets, beyond belief—
It was unmistakable.
Something had been prepared.
THE OLD GODS — FORGOTTEN, BUT NOT BLIND
In places where temples had crumbled into dust, the Old Gods stirred.
Not awakening fully.
Not yet.
But listening.
Runes dimmed, then brightened again.
Fates written in stone shifted by a fraction of a degree.
"This is not chaos," one murmured.
"Nor order."
"It does not seek worship."
"It waits."
That frightened them.
Weapons demanded purpose.
Relics demanded allegiance.
This thing demanded nothing.
THE NEW GODS — APOKOLIPS AND NEW GENESIS
NEW GENESIS
Highfather stood still.
The Source Wall whispered.
Not warnings.
Possibilities.
"A mortal hand," Highfather said quietly.
"With a god's consequence."
Orion clenched his fists.
"Then we end it."
Highfather shook his head.
"No."
"Because it does not threaten us."
A pause.
"It threatens fate."
APOKOLIPS
Darkseid watched.
Not with rage.
Not yet.
The fire pillar replayed in his vision—slowed, dissected, analyzed.
Doomsday's evolution—halted.
Not destroyed.
Interrupted.
Darkseid's stone hand tightened.
"That power does not bow," he rumbled.
"It does not answer."
Desaad hissed nervously.
"A mortal artifact?"
"No," Darkseid replied.
"A mortal choice."
And that—
That unsettled him far more than Superman ever had.
THE ENDLESS
Destiny's book trembled.
Just one page.
Death paused mid-step, then smiled faintly.
"Oh."
Dream frowned.
"That wasn't supposed to be written yet."
Desire leaned closer.
"But it will be."
Despair felt heavier.
Delirium laughed.
"Something shiny! Something sharp! Something waiting!"
And Destiny closed his book.
"It has not been used."
"Which means the story still has room."
THE GODS OF MAGIC — ALL PANTHEONS
This was what drew their full attention.
Olympian.
Egyptian.
Atlantean.
Mesopotamian.
Forgotten names carved into forgotten stars.
Magic itself leaned toward the anomaly.
Not corrupted.
Not divine.
Not infernal.
"It is not spellcraft."
"It is not prayer."
"It is preparation."
A failsafe.
A final argument against annihilation.
Something built not to conquer—
But to end an ending.
THE STRANGE POWER GIVEN TO A MORTAL CLONE
And then there was the second ripple.
The vibrations.
The quakes.
A mortal hybrid now holding power that could split continents.
The gods studied it carefully.
"That is not stolen divinity."
"It obeys no pantheon."
"It answers metaphysics."
Power without worship.
Strength without covenant.
A god's force bound to cause and effect instead of belief.
Some were intrigued.
Others were offended.
All were watching.
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
Hell, however—
Laughed.
Lucifer leaned back in his chair, laughter echoing through silver halls.
Real laughter.
Unrestrained.
"Devil Fruit," he repeated, wiping a tear from his eye.
More laughter.
"Oh, that's brilliant."
Mazikeen raised an eyebrow.
"Something funny?"
Lucifer grinned.
"A fruit named after me."
"Granting power without damnation."
"Without contracts."
"Without sin."
His smile sharpened.
"Whoever named it… either has a sense of humor—"
A pause.
"—or no fear of gods at all."
He stood.
"I need to meet this child."
"Not to punish."
"Not to bargain."
Lucifer's eyes gleamed.
"To ask him one question."
"Why call it 'devil'… when it answers to no hell?"
FINAL WHISPER
Across heaven, hell, earth, and beyond—
The same thought echoed.
Not fear.
Not rage.
Not awe.
Interest.
Because something had entered the universe that did not belong to anyone.
And that meant—
It might belong to everyone.
Or no one at all.