The grand chamber of the Divine Court shimmered with ethereal light, its ceiling stretching beyond comprehension. Thousands of gods filled the colossal space, their celestial forms radiating power and authority. Yet, in the center of it all, a mortal stood—handcuffed with chains forged from pure light.
"Silence!" one of the three supreme judges boomed, their voice echoing across the court. "The judgment of the mortal Sun Mikhaelkov begins now."
The chamber fell quiet.
Sun stood still, his posture relaxed despite the oppressive presence around him. His gaze, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the three supreme judges seated on their thrones. Their divine auras pressed down on him like mountains, demanding submission.
But Sun didn't kneel. He didn't lower his eyes.
Instead, he smirked.
The gods murmured, their dissatisfaction palpable.
"This mortal dares to act insolent in the presence of the supreme judges?" a lesser god hissed.
"Arrogance…" another muttered, shaking their head.
The whispers grew louder until the gavel struck down, silencing the uproar.
"Mortal Sun Mikhaelkov," the judge intoned, their voice cold and final. "Your judgment begins now."
A massive golden balance materialized behind Sun. The scales tilted violently, one side weighed down as though burdened by the weight of worlds, while the other rose as if empty.
"You have caused the destruction of your planet," the judge continued, their tone laced with condemnation. "You are responsible for the death of tens of billions of creatures, all for the sake of power."
The gods murmured again, their disdain thick in the air.
"For your unforgivable sins, you are sentenced to eternity in the deepest layer of the Abyss."
Sun's smirk didn't waver. He stood in silence, his eyes scanning the gathered gods. He wasn't searching for mercy or intervention; he was assessing their strength.
The divine court was brimming with power, each god radiating an aura beyond anything he had encountered in his mortal life. Even though he couldn't sense their auras directly, their sheer presence was enough to distinguish the strong from the stronger.
They're good, he thought, his lips curling into a faint grin. But not invincible.
The gavel struck again, snapping him from his thoughts.
"The judgment is final. Does anyone object?"
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, a figure leapt into the center of the court.
"I object," a voice rang out, smooth and confident.
All eyes turned to the intruder—a god clad in flamboyant robes, their face hidden behind a grinning clown mask. The chamber buzzed with whispers.
"The god of mischief?"
"Why has Loki intervened?"
The judges regarded Loki with a mix of wariness and respect.
"Loki," one of them said, their tone even. "State your objection to the ruling of the supreme divine court."
Loki's grin widened beneath his mask as he stepped closer to Sun.
"Though this mortal's sins are grave, I believe he has the potential to redeem himself," Loki said, his voice dripping with mischief.
The court erupted into murmurs once more. The judges exchanged glances, their expressions stern.
"Even if the mortal spends the next million years saving others," one judge replied, "it would not balance the scales. Such is the nature of mortal judgment."
Loki's laughter echoed through the chamber. "Oh, but there is a way," he said, his tone teasing. "And it won't take that long, considering this mortal's talent for martial arts. His comprehension rivals that of the great gods themselves."
The murmurs among the lesser gods turned into outright protests.
"Ridiculous!"
"Blasphemy!"
But Loki remained unfazed, his composure unshaken.
The court quieted once more as Loki raised a hand. "I suggest we send this mortal to the sealed world of prophecy," he declared.
This time, even the great gods reacted. Their combined presence pressed down on Sun, making the air heavy with tension.
"Loki!" a voice boomed, shaking the chamber. Hephaestus, the god of fire and craftsmanship, rose from his seat. "Have you gone mad? You know that if the sealed world is unsealed, we won't be able to contain it without Chronos. And Chronos… is missing."
The chamber trembled as Hephaestus's words reverberated.
Loki tilted his head, his grin never faltering. "Ah, but think of the rewards. The fragment of the Divine within that world is the greatest of them all. If we were capable of entering it ourselves, we would have done so long ago. But only mortals can enter."
He gestured toward Sun. "And this mortal—this Sun—is our best chance. Especially after Hercules's ascendancy."
The court buzzed with renewed discussion, the gods debating fiercely. Hours passed before the judges finally struck the gavel again.
"Mortal Sun Mikhaelkov," the lead judge intoned, "you shall be sentenced to enter the world of Leindel. Your task: break the world barrier and release the fragment of the Divine. Succeed, and your sins shall be forgiven. You will be allowed entry into the cycle of reincarnation."
A massive golden contract appeared before Sun, its text glowing with divine energy.
The court fell silent, every god watching intently.
Sun glanced at the contract, then at the gods around him. Finally, he chuckled—a low, mocking sound that echoed through the chamber.
"I've listened to you talk about me doing this and that," he said, his tone dripping with defiance. "As if I would take orders from any of you."
His smirk widened, his voice rising.
"If any of you want me to do something, make me. Fight me!"
The court exploded into chaos.