As the calm darkness enveloped the realm, Erebus emerged slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes reflecting an infinite peace. His black robe fluttered gently in the wind, an image of serenity amidst chaos.
To Erebus, the events unfolding were insignificant. Whether facing eleven god kings or even hundreds, they posed no real challenge. The gap between Primordial Gods and mere god kings was an abyss, one that could not be bridged. This stark disparity rendered any comparison futile, highlighting the terrifying nature of invincible power.
Why, one might ask, did Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus triumph over Cronus, the Titan king who neared the zenith of Primordial power? The answer lay in the complexity of that battle. Cronus's capacity to wield god-like strength was questionable, as external forces played a significant role. His downfall illustrated a crucial truth: even at the peak of divinity, one could remain shackled by the world's constraints.
This was the lesson Cronus imparted with his life—a haunting reminder of the fear that accompanied such limitations. The chasm separating gods was no mere gap; it was an overwhelming horror. Only Hades had the capability to elevate the underworld, evolving it step by step into a vast domain.
The world tree, Ouroboros, the four elemental beasts of earth, water, fire, and wind, along with the realms of heaven, earth, sea, and underworld, were all indicators of this transformation. A new absolute realm was emerging, birthed from Hades and Hell, transcending the boundaries of traditional mythology.
Though the underworld had its origins in the great mythologies of Japan and Greece, it had become something entirely different. Over time, it evolved into a new world, fundamentally distinct from its predecessors. Hades achieved what many gods could not: a transcendence beyond fate's chains.
"Hmm" Erebus stood in quiet contemplation, awaiting an unseen event.
"Erebus," a gentle voice broke the silence. Nyx emerged from the shadows, her smile radiant as she stepped forward. "Let us do as we wish, without concern for anything else."
The sense of control was intoxicating; it enveloped them both in a comforting embrace. To others, it might seem trivial, but for this couple, it represented a profound liberation. No longer bound by the constraints of the world, they reveled in their newfound freedom.
Though they had once been Primordial Gods, the weight of existence had shifted. The entire world now seemed powerless to resist their will. This transformation was not merely external; it came from deep within, altering their very essence.
However, Nyx pondered, "With the fall of the Seventh Generation of Gods, the Lord God of the Heavens must surely sense a change."
"No matter," Erebus replied dismissively. "As long as the underworld remains under our dominion, he will dare not act. He will be paralyzed by fear and helplessness."
Indeed, the Lord God of Heaven sought not unity but autonomy. Yet, in his quest to resist, he found himself at a crossroads. The path to becoming the absolute god of the gods was barred; the only alternative was to embrace the chaos of the monster realm. This necessitated a continued evolution of the world, one that even the ancient Primordial Gods, like Gaia, could not influence.
In this context, the Lord God of Heaven was left powerless, watching from the sidelines as the world transformed. It was a state of despair, unable to intervene as Hades and his domain continued to develop unabated.
Ultimately, the era of monsters had arrived—the night of the Hyakki. Whether it was Yamata no Orochi or the great onmyoji, all were intricately connected to the underworld. Attempting to alter this reality was futile; the Lord God of Heaven could only endure his powerlessness, resigned to the tumult unfolding in the world he once controlled.