The atmosphere inside the First Circle Colosseum was thick with a malevolent energy, as the demonic crowd reveled in their victory. They erupted in a euphoric madness, their demonic nature finding delight in the demise of Kali, the woman who had relentlessly slain them for millennia. The abominable creatures, usually consumed by their own wickedness, now found a rare unity in their joyous celebration. Even Abaddon, momentarily forgetting about his lost bet, couldn't help but join in the uproar.
Among the spectators, the reaction of the lords was particularly notable. Anubis, the stoic guardian of the afterlife, stood in stunned silence, his gaze fixated on the unfolding events. Gwen, the eternal sorceress, desperately pinched her cheek, hoping to awaken from what seemed like a nightmare. And there was Hel, the mistress of the underworld, wearing a sinister smile. She descended to her husband, Haemon, and took hold of his hand, raising it triumphantly as a symbol of their complete victory. "Darling, at least smile," she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "now you are their new lord."
But Haemon paid no heed to her words. His attention was drawn to Kali's remains, lying lifeless on the ground. In a calm and deliberate manner, he made his way towards them, his intent clear—to consume her and claim her power for himself. However, before he could reach his fallen opponent, Shiva materialized before him, his presence emanating an aura of immense power. In a mournful voice that carried unmistakable authority, he spoke, "I request that you refrain from touching her and allow me to take her with me."
Haemon, recognizing the formidable warrior standing before him, briefly considered complying with Shiva's demand. But a pat on his back from a dark-haired stranger quickly dispelled any notion of submission. The stranger, known as the First, spoke with arrogance and mockery, questioning Shiva's audacity. "Shiva, aren't you ashamed of stealing trophies from the victors?"
The Olympian, even with his extraordinary instincts, could barely sense the presence of the First, such was the immense power emanating from him. However, Shiva's determination remained unwavering. "First, I cannot allow the remains of my fallen sister to become someone's trophy!" His face reflected the seriousness of his intent, and the surrounding reality began to crumble under the weight of his destructive aura. Dark clouds gathered in the already gloomy sky, casting an even deeper shadow over the world.
Unfazed by Shiva's display of power, the First calmly reminded him of his place. "Shiva, you seem to have forgotten that this is not your home. You are on my territory, buddy. So, why don't you calmly return to where you came from, and I, in turn, will graciously overlook this foolishness? There's no need to make a scene over a mere misunderstanding, don't you think?" His words, spoken with unsettling tranquility, masked the true nature of the fallen one—a thirst for merciless slaughter concealed beneath a veneer of calm.
The cobra coiled around Shiva's neck hissed in displeasure at the First's condescending tone. They, too, sensed the contemptuous arrogance in his words. Yet, the former warrior of light paid no mind to their protest. In his world, he alone dictated the rules.
"Shiva, you know very well that in this realm, the victor takes everything, and the loser receives nothing," the First continued, closing the distance between himself and Kali's remains. He nonchalantly picked them up, tossing them at the feet of the Olympian. It was an audacious act, a blatant display of disrespect.
Shiva's resolve wavered for a moment, the conflict within him manifesting in a physical transformation. His once-blue skin took on a light tan, and his form became a fusion of both male and female features. "You are right," he conceded in a softer tone, "and I ask for forgiveness for my irrational behavior. I shall take my leave."
With those words, Shiva dissolved into thin air, his departure leaving a void in the atmosphere. Meanwhile, Haemon, consumed by his insatiable hunger, paid little attention to the conversation between these godlike entities that existed far beyond his comprehension. He continued to devour Kali's remains, oblivious to the dark forces at play around him. The colosseum, once a stage of gruesome battles, now bore witness to an even darker confrontation—one that would shape the destinies of these supernatural beings and plunge the world into further depths of chaos.
As Haemon consumed the remnants of Kali, a gnawing discomfort began to settle within him. The magnitude of her power was undeniable, but it would take him considerable time to harness and master all of her abilities. Nevertheless, it was a sacrifice he deemed worthy, for now, the very fabric of Kali's reality belonged to him. However, he couldn't attain his true form, for the curse of his mother weighed heavily upon him. Instead, it would be his unborn child who would inherit this newfound power. Hela, his wife, would also partake in this acquisition, ascending to unprecedented levels of strength. On this momentous day, the chessboard of worlds underwent colossal changes, setting in motion dangerous mechanisms capable of unleashing widespread destruction.
The fallen one, his face adorned with a smile, extended his hand in a gesture of camaraderie. "So, you have become a new member of the family. I am delighted to welcome you, brother," he said, his words laced with deceitful charm. Haemon regarded the stranger with caution but ultimately accepted the handshake. Yet, a voice echoed within his mind—the voice of the shadow, warning him to be wary of this treacherous monster. Concealing his venomous nature behind a facade of goodwill and sincerity, the fallen one wore a mask of false benevolence. Before Haemon stood a madman, craving nothing more than to plunge the heavens into chaos.
"I hope you will find joy in our company, dear brother, for soon you will become our shield in the bloody war! But we shall discuss that later. For now, you should follow your new servants and make your way to your castle as swiftly as possible," the First declared, pointing towards two kneeling red demons who served Hela. The barbarian's wife reveled in this newfound power, her dominance established as her boot lightly pierced the skull of one of the demons. "I have no desire to rule this realm. It is she who desired to claim this throne!" Haemon calmly asserted, gesturing towards his wife.
He had no intention of becoming entangled in the celestial and infernal power games. To him, these disputes among the lords seemed like mere child's play compared to the intricate machinations of these families. None of these creatures had harmed Haemon thus far, and he saw no reason to involve himself in their affairs. However, Hel had condemned him to be a part of it all, as she carried their unborn child within her womb. Consequently, he resolved to forge his own path and proposed a reasonable idea to the First. "If you permit, Lord of Pain and Intrigue, I would like you to crown my wife in my stead. But if this realm faces the threat of a heavenly invasion, then I shall stand as its shield."
The First contemplated the words of the warrior, realizing that the situation could turn out even better than he had originally planned. A sinister smile stretched across his face as he nodded in agreement. "I have no objections to such an option, if it is truly your sincere desire," he said, his voice dripping with malice. The Fallen scratched his head, a sense of curiosity mixed with gratitude in his eyes as he glanced at Hel. "We are grateful to you, sir. Thank you very much!" he exclaimed, before Hel swiftly ushered him towards their new abode, delivering a swift kick to the red demon's rear to hasten his steps. The demon scurried to the Scarlet Castle of Judgment, his pace akin to the howling wind. Observing this, the First sighed with both relief and pity. "I'm fortunate that I rejected Lilith's offer back in the day. Otherwise, I would have ended up just like that poor fellow."
Hel and Haemon arrived swiftly at their castle, only to be surprised by its diminutive size compared to the grandeur of the palace in Helheim. Nonetheless, the castle buzzed with life, far more vibrant than the desolate halls of the ruler of the dead. Various creatures scurried about, eager to please their new mistress. They had begun renovating the castle's interior, striving to emulate Hel's native dimension in every possible way. With a wide grin, the queen settled onto her throne, reveling in this triumphant moment. She wished to savor their victory to the fullest. After all, they had succeeded where other families had faltered. A band of outcasts and rejects had boldly announced their presence to the world, challenging the established order with audacity and provocation. Now that they had claimed a place on the world stage, they needed to secure their position, for the hungry hyenas of power would not remain hidden in the shadows for long.
"By Ymir's beard! I completely forgot about the mountain of paperwork awaiting me," the giantess grumbled irritably, exhaling a heavy sigh as she stared at the pile of documents brought by her subordinates. "What's your next move?" the warrior inquired, his voice cool and composed, as he gnawed on a massive piece of meat from an unidentifiable creature. "If you're referring to the immediate future, once I finish at least half of this mess, I plan to indulge in a good drink. And then, perhaps, we can celebrate our victory together. They say the quarters of the local lords are a separate art form," Hel replied, scanning a few records, promptly stamping them, and handing them off to her servants. She cast a flirtatious smile at her husband, her eyes darting towards the door of their bedroom. "And what is your plan for conquering Asgard?" Haemon impatiently asked, his dissatisfaction evident as he gazed at his wife.
"Well, my plan for now is to lay low and hide in Inferno as long as possible," Hel began, her voice filled with caution. "Odin won't show us any mercy now that we pose a direct threat to him. The All-Father is too hungry for power to pass up the opportunity to rule this world. If we don't want to become his slaves, we must slowly but surely increase our own power. I suggest doing so through politics and intrigue." Hel's eyes sparkled with eagerness as she delved into her cunning plan to eliminate competitors in Inferno and establish new alliances in other realms. However, she abruptly halted upon noticing the stern gaze of the Olympian. "But this path doesn't suit you at all. You seek revenge against our lover of thunder and lightning. It would be better for you to seek guidance from Mimir. They say it's thanks to him that Odin possesses such extensive knowledge of magic. And please, don't even entertain the thought of fighting Baldur. Even you cannot kill him," Hel revealed, conjuring an image of the decapitated head of the old man with golden eyes in the air.
"He's invulnerable?" the barbarian inquired with curiosity, finishing his celebratory meal. He even offered a piece of food to one of the servants, who accepted the gift gratefully. "Haemon, I'll repeat myself: do not attempt to attract his attention. He's just as much of a maniac as Thor, if not worse!" Hel hissed at her husband, baring her fangs. She didn't want to lose such a valuable soldier so quickly. "We'll see," the Olympian replied, rising from his seat and straightening his attire. He requested that his wife open a portal leading to Ulfrun's hut. "What do you need there?" she logically inquired. "There's something left there that belongs to me," the Olympian revealed, flexing his muscles. "Are you intending to leave right now? Can't you spare a little time with me, my bear cub?" Hel whispered, approaching her husband from behind and embracing him affectionately. However, he merely snorted and clenched his fists.
"Fine, but don't blame me later if I find myself a horned lover," the queen retorted, clicking her tongue as she opened the portal. "If you wish for death, just say so," the barbarian coldly whispered to his wife before disappearing into the green vortex. Letting out a dissatisfied sigh, Hel returned to her paperwork, the weight of her responsibilities weighing heavily upon her.