The battlefield was no longer just the Underworld.
It was something beyond time, beyond space, beyond existence itself.
The war between Hades, Zeus, Poseidon, and the invading pantheon had shattered the very foundation of reality. The divine plane struggled to contain them. Universes trembled at the clash of their power. The echoes of their battle reached across pantheons, across realms.
And the gods who had come to erase them now understood their failure.
This was no longer about Olympus.
This was no longer about a single war.
This was about the future of the divine.
And Hades stood at the center of it all.
The Gods That Should Not Be
The golden-eyed entity shifted. Its form did not move in space—it moved through possibility, flickering between what had been and what could be.
"You defy the order of creation itself."
The antlered beast exhaled. Its breath alone collapsed what remained of the battlefield. The remnants of the Underworld's mountains, its rivers, its very sky—erased, unmade, as if they had never existed.
But Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon stood untouched.
For the first time, the foreign pantheon hesitated.
The Last Stand of the Forgotten Gods
From the depths of the abyss, Hades' new pantheon rose.
They were gods who had been erased from history. Deities who had no temples, no worshippers, no place among the divine.
But now, they had a king.
And they had a purpose.
Nyxal, the Bound Judge, thrust his six hands forward. Chains of judgment, forged from the weight of forgotten oaths, wrapped around the invaders—binding gods that had never been bound before.
Vaelis, the Keeper of the Unremembered, spoke a single word, and an entire faction of the enemy vanished. Not slain. Not destroyed.
Erased.
And Morbryn, the Executioner of the Lost, raised his sword— a blade that had taken the heads of gods before they had ever been born—and swung.
The invading pantheon, once certain of their victory, now found themselves facing oblivion.
The Storm and the Sea Transcend
Zeus clenched his fist, and the storm responded.
Lightning did not just crackle—it became something alive, something woven into the very fabric of existence. Every bolt of power was no longer just his—it was the law of the skies, an undeniable truth that all realms must obey.
Poseidon's trident struck the shifting ground, and oceans that had never been charted roared to life.
His power was no longer just water.
It was the concept of the sea itself. Wherever the ocean touched, he was there. Wherever a tide rose, his power surged.
They were no longer just Olympians.
They were forces of nature, entities of power that no longer belonged to a single throne.
And yet, Hades still stood ahead of them.
He had already walked this path.
And he had gone farther.
The War Reaches Its End
The foreign gods realized it too late.
They were no longer fighting gods.
They were fighting something else.
The divine plane would never be the same again.
And the war had only just begun.