---
Orion had been in Valhalla for less than a day, and he was already being thrown into a life-or-death trial.
Typical.
The massive battle arena loomed before him, an open field where gravity twisted in strange ways. Floating platforms hovered above, runes shimmered in the air, and warriors—both ancient and modern—stood around, eager to watch. The whole thing looked like a battle royale designed by Norse gods who had too much free time.
Freya, his newly assigned Valkyrie handler, leaned against the entrance gate, casually twirling a dagger. "Okay, newbie," she said, "here's the deal. Odin wants to see if you're actually worth keeping."
Orion frowned. "I thought I was already in Valhalla."
Freya shrugged. "You are. But this isn't just about proving yourself. This is about what you are." She pointed at him. "You're an unbound Nephilim with god-blood. That makes you a wild card."
Helgi, standing beside her, nodded. "The gods don't like wild cards."
Orion sighed. "Fantastic."
He glanced at the arena. Warriors were betting on him. Some looked impressed. Others looked doubtful.
And then, a deep, commanding voice echoed through the air.
"Bring forth his opponent."
Orion turned—and immediately wished he hadn't.
A towering figure stepped into the arena.
Clad in celestial armor black as the void, glowing red runes traced across its surface like molten cracks. A massive sword hummed with power on his back, and his one remaining eye locked onto Orion with a gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
The crowd fell silent.
Freya whistled. "Well… that's unexpected."
Orion's stomach dropped. "Who is that?"
Helgi crossed his arms. "Meet Tyr, the God of War."
Orion blinked. "I'm sorry. You said that like I'm supposed to fight him."
Helgi grinned. "Yep."
"Great," Orion muttered. "Of course, it's a literal god of war."
Tyr unsheathed his sword, the metal crackling with lightning. He tilted his head slightly, studying Orion.
"I've faced many warriors," Tyr said, his voice like an avalanche. "But never one outside fate's weave."
Orion clenched his fists. "Yeah, well, first time for everything."
Odin's voice thundered from above.
"BEGIN."
Tyr vanished.
Orion barely had time to react before a fist collided with his ribs, sending him flying across the arena. He smashed into the ground, kicking up dirt and stone, before rolling to his feet in an instant.
Holy crap. That hurt.
He had been fast in life. He had been strong. But this?
Tyr wasn't just strong. He was unstoppable.
The god appeared again, his sword flashing in an arc.
Orion barely dodged. His body reacted on its own, tilting just enough for the blade to slice through the air where his head had been a second ago.
He moved before he even thought about moving.
And that's when he realized—
He was adapting.
Every attack, every move—his instincts were calculating. It was like he had fought Tyr before in another life.
Tyr's sword came down again, this time with the weight of a thunderstorm. Orion twisted, avoiding it by inches, then countered.
His fist connected with Tyr's armor.
The crowd gasped.
Tyr stumbled back, his single eye narrowing.
For the first time in centuries, the God of War had been hit.
Freya muttered, "Oh, this just got interesting."
Tyr steadied himself, then nodded. "Not bad." He planted his sword in the ground. "Now, let's see what you really are."
Orion barely had time to process that before the sky exploded.
Lightning arced through the clouds. Runes burned into the air.
And Tyr unleashed his full power.
Orion exhaled.
Yeah.
This was going to hurt.
---
Orion's instincts screamed at him to move.
The arena trembled under the sheer force of Tyr's unleashed power. The god's presence alone made the air feel heavier, the sky above twisting with clouds streaked in golden lightning. Runes flared to life around them, shifting in intricate patterns that even the einherjar watching from the sidelines didn't fully understand.
Orion gritted his teeth. His body was already adjusting to Tyr's attacks, but that didn't mean he could just win.
Tyr charged, moving so fast that Orion barely saw him.
BOOM.
Orion blocked—his arms crossing just in time—but the impact sent him skidding backward, tearing through the arena floor like a meteor crash. His muscles burned from the force.
I need more speed.
Tyr wasn't holding back anymore. The god vanished again and reappeared in midair, his blade radiating energy.
Orion had seconds to react.
He raised his hands on instinct—
And something answered.
A pulse of celestial energy surged through his veins, raw and untamed. The moment Tyr's attack connected, the air around Orion shifted. A powerful gust of wind erupted, knocking Tyr back for the first time.
The crowd gasped.
Freya, watching from the sidelines, frowned. "That's… not normal."
Helgi rubbed his chin. "No. That's divine power."
Orion staggered to his feet, his breath ragged. Something inside him was waking up—a force far older than Valhalla itself.
His mother's blood.
Primordial power.
He clenched his fists, lightning crackling at his fingertips.
Tyr watched him carefully. "Ah," the god mused. "Now we see the truth."
Orion didn't hesitate. He shot forward, faster than ever before.
Tyr barely had time to react.
Orion's fist slammed into his chest, sending the god flying.
The crowd exploded into chaos.
"Did he just—"
"He sent Tyr flying?!"
"What even is he?!"
Tyr landed smoothly, rolling his shoulders. Instead of anger, amusement flickered in his eye. "Now this is a battle."
Orion didn't wait. He followed up, his movements unnatural, fluid, unstoppable.
He wasn't just stronger. He was becoming something else.
The wind bent to his will.
The skies darkened in response to his anger.
His mother's legacy was no longer dormant.
For the first time, Orion wasn't just fighting like a warrior.
He was fighting like a god.
Tyr grinned.
"Good," he said.
Then he vanished again.
And the real fight began.
The battlefield was unrecognizable.
Dust and energy crackled in the air. The once-solid ground was fractured, marked by the sheer power being exchanged. The watching einherjar stood in stunned silence—a mortal-born warrior was matching blows with a god.
And yet, Tyr's expression was calm.
Not surprised. Not panicked.
Calm.
Orion, however, was barely keeping himself together. His body burned. The celestial energy surging through his veins was new, untamed. His every movement shifted the wind, his mere presence bending the skies above. He wasn't just fighting—the battlefield itself was reacting to him.
For the first time, he felt the full weight of his divine heritage.
And Tyr…
Tyr had been holding back.
The realization hit Orion just before the war god vanished again.
Then—PAIN.
A brutal kick slammed into Orion's ribs, sending him careening across the battlefield. He barely had time to react before a second strike—faster than anything he had seen before— drove him into the ground.
The dust cleared, and Tyr stood over him.
His eye burned with something new.
Not amusement.
Respect.
"You truly are your father's son," Tyr murmured. "I was mistaken before."
Orion coughed, pushing himself up. His limbs felt like lead, but he refused to stay down. "Mistaken?"
Tyr exhaled, resting a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I assumed you were merely a strong demigod. A Nephilim, gifted with divine blood but still just a step above a mortal."
The runes in the air flared.
Tyr's posture changed.
Every instinct in Orion's body screamed DANGER.
"But you are not a mere demigod." Tyr unsheathed his sword, and for the first time, his presence changed completely.
The sky split open.
The battlefield froze.
And Orion realized something terrifying.
Tyr had not been fighting as a god.
Not until now.
The moment he unsheathed his sword, the energy in the air condensed into something sharper. More refined.
Controlled.
This wasn't just raw strength.
This was war itself.
"Allow me to reintroduce myself," Tyr said, voice laced with power. "I am the God of War. And now…"
He raised his sword.
"You will see what that truly means."
---
A Battle of Gods
Tyr moved, and the world moved with him.
Orion barely registered the flash of silver before he was forced on the defensive.
Too fast.
Tyr wasn't just attacking. He was controlling the battle itself.
Every movement, every strike—flawless, calculated, unstoppable. His divine power didn't come from brute strength, but from absolute mastery.
Orion blocked, dodged, countered—but he was losing ground.
It wasn't that he wasn't strong enough.
It was that Tyr was better.
For every blow Orion landed, Tyr landed three. For every attack Orion dodged, Tyr had already prepared another.
The gap in skill was overwhelming.
And yet—
BOOM.
Orion clenched his fists, calling upon his divine power. The sky roared in response, lightning coiling around him. The winds shifted, bending to his will.
His mother's bloodline was not passive.
It was skyborne dominion.
Orion thrust his hands forward, and a powerful shockwave of celestial force blasted outward.
Tyr held his ground.
The dust settled, and he studied Orion with genuine admiration. "So you do not falter."
Orion panted. "Not my style."
Tyr's smirk grew. "Then let us end this."
The final clash began.
Orion lunged forward, fist crackling with celestial force. Tyr met him head-on, their weapons colliding with enough force to shake the entire battlefield.
Lightning. Steel. Magic. Willpower.
Neither yielded.
For the first time, the battle was at a stalemate.
The watching einherjar could hardly believe it.
A mortal-born warrior was fighting Tyr to a draw.
But Orion could feel it.
The strain.
His body wasn't ready for this kind of power.
Tyr saw it too. "You're reaching your limit."
Orion growled. "Not yet."
He forced himself to move faster. To strike harder.
But—
His vision blurred.
His breathing hitched.
Tyr parried his next attack with ease. "Your power is great, Orion. But you are still new to it."
Orion staggered. His knees buckled.
The celestial energy coursing through him was too much.
The last thing he saw was Tyr stepping forward, catching him before he collapsed.
Then—
Darkness.
---
Aftermath
Orion drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness.
His body felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time. The power he had wielded in battle—it had been too much.
Not in strength.
But in control.
He wasn't used to it yet.
"…He's waking up."
A familiar voice—Freya.
Orion's eyes fluttered open. He was back in Valhalla, lying on a bed that felt entirely too soft for someone who had just fought a god.
Freya leaned over him, grinning. "Not bad, newbie."
Orion groaned. "How long was I out?"
Helgi smirked from the doorway. "Half a day. Could've been worse."
Orion exhaled. His entire body still ached, but he was alive. He had faced Tyr at full power.
And he hadn't lost.
Not completely.
A deep voice cut through the room.
"You fought well."
Orion looked up—Tyr stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed.
Orion forced himself to sit up. "You could've warned me you were going easy at first."
Tyr chuckled. "Would that have changed anything?"
Orion scowled but didn't argue.
Tyr nodded approvingly. "You have power, Orion. Great power. But raw strength alone will not make you a god."
Orion clenched his fists. He already knew that.
Tyr continued, "You are not yet ready to wield your mother's gifts fully. If you force it again, it will break you."
Orion met his gaze. "Then I'll train until it doesn't."
Tyr smiled. "Good."
The god turned to leave, but paused at the doorway.
"One final thing," Tyr said. "There is someone who has been watching you closely."
Orion frowned. "Who?"
Tyr glanced at him, his single eye gleaming with something indistinguishable.
"Odin."
The name sent a chill through Orion's spine.
"He will call for you soon," Tyr added. "And when he does… be ready."
Then, without another word, the God of War disappeared.
Orion let out a slow breath.
He wasn't sure what Odin wanted.
But something told him—his real challenges were just beginning.
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