The river of liquid gold, the purest essence of the people's faith, held the strange obsidian-gold godhood in a crushing vice. It suppressed its aura and masked its presence so thoroughly that the other gods had remained entirely oblivious to its existence.
It bore a striking resemblance to Helios's Sun Godhood, yet it was carved from a substance as dark as ink-jade. Its boundaries flickered with a brilliant golden light, within which the phantom projection of a sun seemed to pulse. Amidst the radiant torrent of faith, its eerie, silent charm stood out with a prominence that could not be ignored.
With a flick of her jade-like finger, Hebe parted the flow of faith. Freed from its suppression, the obsidian-gold godhood immediately bolted from the golden chalice. It seemed to harbor a particular loathing for the hymns of the faithful; it shuddered, and shadows began to bleed from its core, siphoning the surrounding light into a void of darkness.
"Heehee..." Hebe let out a soft chuckle.
The newborn godhood appeared formidable, but before Hebe—now at the peak of the first tier—it was still far from enough. She reached out with a slender hand. Her movement seemed slow, yet the obsidian-gold godhood found itself with no path of escape. It was seized firmly in her grasp. Gold-green divine life-force, carrying the peerless power of purification, transformed into shimmering chains that bound it tight.
Only now did Hebe have the leisure to properly scrutinize her prize.
Yes, the strange sensation of weakness Helios had felt in the hall was no illusion. He had truly been diminished. When the Sun Godhood had been entangled by the Karmic Corruption during the celestial fire incident, Hebe had not actually destroyed the corruption while "purifying" it.
She had used the power of faith to rinse the godhood, luring it into her chalice for the sole purpose of stripping away a fragment of the Solar Origin while the other gods were looking the other way. This was why Helios, despite being a Major God, had found himself unable to resist Zeus's pressure. He had foolishly assumed it was merely a lingering effect of his coma. By the time he realized the truth, the sovereignty of the sun would no longer be his to hold. Hebe had no fear of a criminal deity facing eternal imprisonment.
Under Hebe's direction, the stripped Solar Origin had merged with the Karmic Corruption, birthing a brand-new godhood—a literal "Sun-Killer."
Hebe closed her eyes, sensing the divinity through her fingertips.
"This damned sun!" "I curse you! I curse you to fall, you heartless ball of fire!" "Please, stop the heat... I beg of you..." "Hateful sun, I wish to perish alongside you."
Countless wails, pleas, and curses were condensed within this crystal. These were the final words of the creatures who had perished under the celestial fire. This world was saturated with primordial essence, a realm of myth and miracles where the souls of living beings possessed powerful psychic energy. Compared to the world-shaking commands of a god, a single soul's energy was but a firefly's glow. But what of ten thousand fireflies? What of a million?
When quantity leads to a transformation in quality, even an ant can topple a titan. These collective grudges had clung to the Sun Godhood, causing Helios's coma and trapping his consciousness in a void of darkness. Now, merged with the Solar Origin, this godhood possessed one fundamental function: to diminish the glory of the sun.
As the gold-green chains loosened slightly, the obsidian-gold godhood flashed with a dark brilliance. Hebe opened her eyes, and a vision manifested within her violet gaze.
A scorching sun hung high in the sky, illuminating all things in a scene of peace. Then, clouds gathered, and a sliver of shadow appeared at the sun's edge. The shadow grew, expanding until it devoured the golden orb entirely, plunging heaven and earth into absolute darkness.
Solar Eclipse.
When light is swallowed, what combat power does a God of Light have left to wield?
The vision shifted. Amidst the darkened world, a new sun appeared, radiating a haunting purplish-red glow. Where this light touched, the "Yin" flourished while the "Yang" withered. Monsters and specters let out sighs of comfort, while living beings howled in agony, their life essence evaporating as they wasted away before one's eyes.
This was the ultimate product of the "Yin" born from the fall of the "Yang."
Nether Sun.
It still broadcast its grace selflessly, but its recipients had changed to the spirits of the Underworld and the creatures of the abyss.
With additional offices over Revenge, Curse, and Agony, this godhood provided Hebe with infinite surprises. Her risky gamble to fragment the solar essence had proven to be a bargain beyond measure. The gods whispered that Hebe had done all the work only to let Apollo claim the prize; they mocked her in secret, never knowing who the true winner of the day was.
Hebe smiled in the silence of her chambers. She stroked the godhood affectionately. With this, not only could Pagos be successfully born within the Underworld, but with the right maneuvers, elevating him to Major God status in the future would be a simple task.
Hebe closed her eyes, linking her spirit to the laws of the universe, and pressed the obsidian-gold godhood into her heart. Being "one soul in two bodies," she shared a natural link with Pagos, allowing her to transmit the godhood without physically traveling to the House of Hades.
Deep within the Underworld, not far from the gates of Tartarus, a purple-gold divine egg flared with light. The obsidian-gold godhood manifested directly within the heart of the dark-haired deity gestating inside.
The godhood pulsed with dark light. Pagos's innate powers of Death and Plague were a perfect match for it. The Pale Terror (Death) and Plague godhoods were instinctively absorbed into the new crystal, strengthening it as it acknowledged its master. Black-gold divine power flowed from the core, nourishing the gestating god.
After an indeterminate time, the egg erupted in a blinding radiance. A slender, pale arm shattered the shell. From the black soil of the Underworld, strange red flowers began to bloom in a carpet of crimson. The black-haired god stood amongst the blossoms, his proportions flawless and his face strikingly handsome. His lips were as red as fresh blood, and his dark gold eyes held a lethal, poppy-like allure. The black wings on his back were flecked with gold, making him look like a fallen angel cast out from the heavens—exquisite and mesmerizing.
Pagos sensed the surging power within him and nodded with satisfaction, manifesting a long black robe to clothe himself. He spread his hands, and two artifacts shimmering with dark light appeared.
Having been born as a Chthonic god, his new offices of Solar Eclipse and Nether Sun were unique to this world, perfecting the cosmic laws. In recognition, the world had granted him two birthright artifacts.
Corresponding to the Solar Eclipse was the Ring of Annihilation, a band of obsidian-gold. Once it locked onto a foe, it would hover above them, its power reducing the divine rank of any god caught within its radius.
Corresponding to the Nether Sun was the Infernal Flare, a purplish-red flame that roared fiercely yet emitted no heat. To the touch, it felt strangely cold. Unless one held the office of the Nether Sun like Pagos, any attempt to touch this flame would result in the soul being incinerated.
Pagos studied his artifacts with interest.
"Greetings, noble Son of Earth and Abyss," a gentle, somewhat languid voice spoke from behind him.
Pagos turned, his dark gold eyes sizing up the intruder. It was a winged deity like himself, but where Pagos had black hair and wings, this god possessed platinum hair and wings of pure white. He looked like a dreamlike entity entirely out of place in the gloomy Underworld. His handsome face bore a pair of strange pinkish-purple eyes that seemed hazy with sleep. He looked lazy, as if he might collapse into a nap at any moment. Looking at him, Pagos felt an involuntary wave of weariness.
Pagos snapped himself awake, looking warily at this god who could incite lethargy so effortlessly. The Infernal Flare ignited in his hand. If the stranger made any move, a soul-burning agony would be his welcome.
"My apologies. It is the nature of my godhood. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Hypnos, son of Nyx, the Goddess of Night."
"Hypnos?"
The memories inherited from his primary self provided the details. Hypnos, the God of Sleep, held a transcendent status in the Underworld. His lineage was impeccable, born of the Primordials Nyx and Erebus. By rank, he was two generations senior to the current King, Hades. Hypnos governed the sleep of all living things; every night, his attendants traveled the earth to spread his power. His influence was so great that even Zeus could not resist it.
"I see. I am Pagos, God of Frost-Death and Plague."
Since the other had introduced himself with such amiability, Pagos returned the gesture. Naturally, he kept the office of Solar Eclipse to himself; that power was too sensitive and would invite Apollo's immediate hostility.
"Pagos. Born with first-tier power as a son of Gaia and Tartarus... truly astonishing talent," Hypnos praised sincerely. Typically, the greater a god's potential, the longer their gestation; thus, their rank at birth was higher. Hypnos had seen very few Chthonic gods enter the world at the first tier.
"You flatter me. I am newly born and know little of the world," Pagos replied with a slight smile. Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and he looked at Hypnos. "Lord Hypnos, I feel a pull from the laws... as if I am being urged to complete a task. To guide certain... souls? What is the meaning of this?"
"That is exactly why the King sent me to collect you," Hypnos said, his violet eyes flashing with understanding. "You possess a Godhood of Death. Though yours is the 'Frost-Death' of the violent-end category, you are still a deity of the Death-aspect. Recently, the criminal Helios failed to manage the Sun Chariot, causing a global disaster. The number of souls entering the Underworld has skyrocketed. My brother, Thanatos, the God of Death, is nearly overwhelmed."
Hypnos thought of his twin brother—currently swearing as he led his subordinates to guide the dead—and couldn't help but feel a mix of pity and amusement.
"The King has ordered every Death-aspect god, and indeed most Chthonic gods, to assist in the harvest. The urge you feel is the decree issued by His Majesty, King Hades."
When the three brothers had divided the world, Hades had drawn the lot for the Underworld. Many gods had pitied him, as the lightless realm was a grim environment compared to Olympus or the Ocean. Furthermore, with three Primordials and a host of powerful, eccentric Chthonic gods residing there, the assembly assumed Hades's rule would be difficult.
The reality was the opposite. Nyx and Erebus favored Hades. They not only provided their twin sons, Hypnos and Thanatos, as his adjutants but actively supported his ascension to the throne. In the end, while Zeus and Poseidon looked glorious, it was Hades who truly held absolute control over his domain. Poseidon, in particular, had been ignored by the oceanic deities until he married Amphitrite; even now, much of the sea's power remained with the ancient Titan couple Oceanus and Tethys.
Back to Pagos: after hearing Hypnos's explanation, his dark gold eyes reflected deep thought. It seemed the King of the Underworld's grip on his realm was far tighter than the Olympians believed.
"But for one so newly born, the art of guiding souls is..." Pagos trailed off, feigning a perfectly acted hesitation.
"Do not worry. My twin, Thanatos, is the Master of Death. He will teach you to wield your power." Hypnos, recognizing Pagos's potential, wanted to introduce him to his brother. If a god of Frost-Death and Plague could serve as Thanatos's lieutenant, it would be a major boon.
"Follow me." Hypnos spread his white wings and ascended gracefully, looking like a celestial messenger. It was hard to believe such a holy-looking being was a god of the dead.
Pagos spread his black-gold wings and followed. Both possessed immense divine power, and their eyes pierced the darkness of the Underworld with ease. They flew at incredible speed, crossing the scorched earth until they reached the entrance of the realm: the River Acheron.
Pagos looked down. The banks of the Acheron were choked with a sea of dark souls. Several Chthonic gods held torches, directing the dead who had already crossed the river into their designated areas. Charon, the ferryman, was sweating profusely as he rowed back and forth. His boat was small, holding only a dozen souls at a time—a drop in the bucket compared to the tens of thousands killed by the celestial fire.
"Everyone, slow down! Can't you see the bank is full? Anyone else breaks formation and I'll toss you into the river myself!"
By the shore, a silver-haired god with gray wings and a massive scythe was shouting in frustration. His face, which mirrored Hypnos's features, was twisted into a snarl.
This God of Death seems to have a bit of a temper, Pagos thought.
"...Forgive him. The influx of souls has been staggering these past few days. Thanatos is exhausted and a bit volatile," Hypnos whispered, covering his face in embarrassment.
"Thanatos!" Hypnos called out as they descended.
"Hypnos, you're here." The silver-haired god's expression softened slightly. His gray eyes landed on Pagos, and his Death Godhood pulsed in resonance. "A newborn Chthonic god? Death-aspect?"
"Indeed. This is Pagos, God of Frost-Death and Plague. I believe he can assist you with the harvest on the surface."
"Frost and Plague?" Thanatos's eyes lit up. He immediately seized Pagos's hands, his gray wings beating. "You're coming with me!"
"Wait, Thanat—"
Hypnos didn't even finish his sentence before his brother vanished with Pagos. He sighed, then shrugged. He had fulfilled the King's order; the rest was up to Thanatos. He could finally go back for a nap.
Thanatos dragged Pagos through the air, his wings beating with the power of a Major God. Within a few strokes, they had reached the mortal realm.
"This is... the surface?"
Pagos looked at the world. It was a landscape of white. Snow covered everything; the only contrast was the occasional blackened branch against the endless drift.
"Yes. The world is currently in the 'Winter' created by Hebe," Thanatos said. He looked at Pagos. "Can you feel your power surging?"
"...I can, Lord Thanatos."
Pagos felt his Godhood of Frost-Death glowing brilliantly. The primordial essence of the world was flooding into him. As a god governing death by cold, this season provided him with an unparalleled home-field advantage.
"Excellent! The snow saved many from the fire, but it has inevitably claimed those who could not withstand the cold. Those souls are yours to harvest."
As the Original God of Death, Thanatos could have done it himself, but he was on the verge of exhaustion. Now that a specialist had arrived, he was more than happy to let Pagos do the work while he took a breather.
"Understood. What is the procedure, My Lord?" Pagos didn't mind being used as labor; it was his duty.
"Listen to your Godhood. It will tell you."
Thanatos waved a hand, sending a wisp of Death power into Pagos to guide his intuition. Pagos centered his mind, feeling the pulse of the Frost-Death Godhood. The pale light hummed, and wordless whispers echoed in his ears.
The black-haired god closed his eyes. Death power gathered in his palm.
"Spirits of the Snow, omnipresent and cold—by the name of Pagos, guide the lost souls to my side!"
Hexagonal snowflakes began to drift from the sky. Unlike the pure white natural snow, these flakes shimmered with a ghostly gray light. Pagos had embedded a divine "coordinate" into them. They would seek out the souls of the dead across the land, marking them and leading them back to him.
Seconds turned to minutes. Gradually, souls began to appear. Soon, Pagos was surrounded by thousands of spirits—those who had perished in the frost, now guided by the gray snow.
"My Lord? Lord Thanatos? The souls are gathered. Shall we return to the House of Hades?" Pagos asked, looking at the God of Death, who seemed to be dazed.
"...Let's go."
Thanatos turned so sharply that his massive dark wings nearly slapped Pagos in the face. Pagos watched him go, tilting his head in confusion. Is he angry again?
Thanatos flew ahead in a sulky silence. He was thinking of the last few days he had spent flying all over the world to manually collect souls. It was so incredibly stupid!
Why didn't I just mark them and have them report to me!? I'm the Original God of Death, for Hades' sake! I'm an idiot!