Chapter 3 - III

The Great Escape and the Divine Substitution

Dawn was barely breaking when Ezekiel and the other fallen gods spotted, below, the doors of a massive stone facility: the dimensional transfer hangar where the young gods of the Righteous Alliance, as they liked to call themselves, were preparing to set off for their sacred planet. The fallen, having evaded the vigilance of the guardians and left chaos in their wake, arrived safely at a ridge overlooking this temporary base.

Nyssa, the goddess of the arts, was eyeing the building with a look of disdain. "I can already sense the heavy aura of their virtue. They could at least add a few splashes of color, couldn't they? This gray is… depressing."

Ezekiel shrugged. "This is not the time for decoration, Nyssa. This is the time for complaint."

Through the heavy stone doors, the captive divines finally caught sight of their targets. The gods of the Virtuous Alliance marched in impeccable formation, draped in immaculate white robes, their gazes stern and focused. Each member embodied humility, grandeur, poise. They advanced in silence, as if they were nothing less than fearless heroes meant to inspire mortals.

"pfff, look at them!" Aphrael, the goddess of beauty, murmured, her eyes fixed on their future victims. "They couldn't be more ridiculous. Those perfectly fitted robes… They look like a parade of statues."

Vahan, the god of economy, nodded in agreement. "So rigid! Without a hint of imperfection… They're not even credible. These guys must have never felt an ounce of doubt, or even a pulse of life."

---

Ezekiel gathered his companions into a tight circle and murmured, his eyes bright with anticipation, "Well, you all know the plan. We advance, we catch them off guard. We neutralize them without much talk. This world is ours, and it is time to make them understand who holds the true power."

The Fallen advanced in silence, using the shadows of the dawn to slip into the building. They melted into the corridors until they came to the great hall where the righteous gods had gathered in prayer, reciting mantras in voices so calm and measured that they provoked irritation in the fallen.

Ezekiel took a deep breath, then, in a booming voice, called out, "O holy and pure gods of the Righteous Alliance, I can no longer bear to see so much… rectitude in one place."

The young gods turned around, stunned. In front of them, Ezekiel and his comrades stared at them with smirks.

The leader of the Virtuous Alliance, a muscular, imposing god adorned with a crown of light, spoke up. "Who are you? How dare you disturb this sacred place, impudent one?"

Ezekiel stifled a laugh, one eyebrow arched. "We are… how shall I put it… former colleagues. And let's say we've come to reclaim our rights."

The Virtuous Alliance's goddess of love, a creature of angelic beauty, stared at him with contempt. "Your rights? Your presence is nothing but an offense to divine laws. Fallen and ugly creature!"

Aphrael, who did not get snipes about beauty without a response, took a furious step forward. "Oh, sorry, dear. You think you're perfect, don't you? What's your secret, 'virtuous beauty'?" Do you know that for true goddesses of beauty and love, style matters?"

The Alliance God of War, a colossus wearing golden armor, took a step toward Ezekiel. "You are nothing but renegades! you don't deserve the right to be summoned , filthy dogs."

Asher, the God of Divination, then stepped forward, a sly smile on his lips. "How about we settle this in a simple way? With a show of strength... and skill."

---

The gaze of the fallen gods instantly changed, their smiles disappearing, giving way to a glint of cold determination. In the blink of an eye, the goddess of healing and death, who loved nothing more than the idea of ending things quickly, deployed her dark aura. She took a step forward, causing a wave of fear in their opponents.

"What the…" a young Alliance god whispered, trembling. "This power… it's forbidden in these places!"

But the goddess just smiled. "Forbidden, perhaps, but powerful, certainly. And stop talking like that, that's why we hate you so much."

With a quick gesture, she summoned a wave of dark energy, which enveloped the group of young gods. They stepped back, stunned, and that's when the fight broke out.

---

The fallen gods attacked without restraint, each using their own eccentric style. Ezekiel, a master of intellectual chaos, summoned a strange machine that spat flashes of light in all directions. Nyssa, meanwhile, summoned deformed clay creatures, which threw themselves at the members of the Alliance, sowing confusion with their irregular movements and discordant cries.

Asher, for his part, brandished a scepter decorated with miscellaneous objects that he had collected during his long years of imprisonment. "I announce a prophecy!" he yelled. "Your world will know suffering, welcome it within you, and fall to your knees before our superiority!"

Meanwhile, Glaber the pacifist held the other god of war in check by launching a fiery speech on the importance of love and anti-violence, all the while skillfully dodging the blows.

"But damn it!" the god of war yelled, unable to touch Vahan. "Fight like a god!"

Vahan sighed, avoiding another blow with a nonchalant backhand. "You know, true power is in passive resistance… but since you don't listen to anything…" He sent her a well-placed kick, which made the god of war fall to the ground, groaning.

---

For their part, the other young gods were desperately trying to fight back. The goddess of beauty of the Virtuous Alliance advanced towards Aphrael, hoping to intimidate her with her radiant beauty. But Aphrael only laughed, and with a snap of her fingers, transformed her own clothes into an outfit so sparkling and avant-garde that it made the young goddess pale.

"A little advice, my dear," Aphrael said as she adjusted her tiara. "People always admire what they don't have. And in your case, what you don't have is style!"

The young goddess, furious, tried to attack her, but Aphrael easily dodged and threw her to the ground, her toga torn and her hair in disarray. The virtuous goddess, mortified, remained on the ground, realizing for the first time her own vulnerability. Aphrael the Toxic Girl had just defeated her.

---

Within minutes, the fallen gods had gained the upper hand. The Alliance lay on the ground, groaning, some still in shock, others stunned by the attacks. Ezekiel leaned over to their leader, the towering god, who was trying to stand up.

"We could have done this the civilized way," Ezekiel said, his voice almost sympathetic. "But you chose the muscular option."

He straightened up and glanced at his companions. "Bring them along. We'll keep them here, until we're well established."

---

With fearsome efficiency, the fallen gods chained the righteous gods and dragged them to a nearby crypt. They had scouted this isolated location earlier and decided to use it as their secret prison for the newcomers. The divine chains they used, found in the reeducation camp's arsenal, would prevent any power from being exercised by the prisoners.

The young gods, once locked up, tried to struggle again, but in vain. Ezekiel observed them one last time with an ironic smile.

"Enjoy this stay, my dear friends. You will see, solitude has something purifying."