The Hall of Eternity shuddered as Oris slammed his fist into one of the celestial pillars. Cracks spread through the divine architecture like spider webs, leaking raw power into the void beyond.
"Your perfect servant." The God of War's voice dripped with contempt. His titan-bone armor rattled with each word, souls of ancient warriors crying out from within its plates. "Your flawless weapon. Tell me, brother, how many more of your schemes must fail before you admit your approach is wrong?"
The God of Magic remained seated on his throne of pure energy, his form shifting between countless aspects of arcane mastery. His fingers continued their methodical tapping against the armrest. Tap. Tap. Tap. Each sound rippled through reality like a stone dropped in still water.
"Careful, Oris," he said, his voice carrying harmonics that made the very air vibrate. "Your solution to everything has always been more violence, more war, more bloodshed. How well did that work when you sent your Celestial Legion against him? I believe their essences still scream in the void."
Oris's eyes flared like battlefield pyres. "At least my Legion fought with honor! Your puppet didn't even die like a warrior. He crumbled into doubt and dust."
"Both of you are missing the point," the Goddess of Judgment cut in. Her golden wings spread wide, casting sharp shadows across the chamber. "Zephyr was not meant to simply defeat Kael. He was meant to prove the supremacy of divine law. Instead—" She gestured to the viewing pool between them, where images of Kael's growing army rippled across its surface. "Instead, he proved that our law can be broken."
The Keeper of Fate drifted forward, their veiled form rippling with possible futures. "Perhaps that was inevitable. The threads of destiny themselves reject Kael's existence. He should not be possible, and yet—"
"Spare us your riddles!" Oris rounded on the veiled figure. "What good are your prophecies if they cannot predict one mortal's actions?"
"He is no longer merely mortal," the God of Magic's voice cut through the argument like a blade. His fingers had stopped their tapping. "That is what none of you seem to grasp. With each victory, with each law he breaks, he becomes something more. Something new."
"Then we must stop him now," Oris growled, stalking toward the throne. "No more clever plans. No more perfect servants. Let me face him myself. Let me show him what true divine power—"
"You would lose." The God of Magic's words fell like stones into dead silence.
The chamber grew deathly still. Even the souls in Oris's armor went quiet.
"You dare?" Oris's voice was deadly soft. Divine energy crackled around his clenched fists.
"I state fact." The God of Magic rose from his throne, his form solidifying into something almost tangible. "You would fight with all your power, all your fury, and you would lose. Because you still think of him as something that can be defeated through force alone."
"Then what do you suggest?" The Goddess of Judgment's voice carried an edge of impatience. "Another puppet? Another servant?"
A smile crossed the God of Magic's ever-shifting features. "No. We send someone who understands what it means to defy destiny. Someone who has lived in the shadow of divine law, never quite accepted, never quite rejected."
Understanding dawned in the chamber. The viewing pool's surface rippled, showing a new image—a temple buried between realms, and within it, a sleeping figure crackling with untamed divine energy.
"Icarion." Oris's anger gave way to something like cruel appreciation. "The boy has always craved a chance to prove himself."
"More than that," the God of Magic's smile widened. "He has always hated what Kael represents. A mortal who was given divine attention, who was meant to be our champion, while he—a true child of the gods—was left to prove himself worthy."
The Keeper of Fate shifted uneasily. "His destiny is... unclear. The threads around him tangle with Kael's in ways I cannot—"
"Good." The God of Magic cut them off. "Let destiny be confused. Let fate lose its way. That is exactly what we need—someone who, like Kael, exists outside the normal bounds of divine law."
"And if he fails?" The Goddess of Judgment's wings folded tight against her back. "If your new champion falls like the last?"
The God of Magic's form rippled with something almost like amusement. "Then he was never truly our son to begin with."
Oris laughed, the sound like avalanches consuming armies. "Finally, brother, you begin to think like a god of war. We lose nothing if he fails, and if he succeeds—" His grin was all teeth and battlefield glory. "If he succeeds, we remind the mortal realm why gods should be feared."
The chamber resonated with their agreement. Reality itself seemed to hold its breath as the gods set their new plan in motion. In his distant temple, Icarion stirred, divine blood burning with purpose.
The God of Magic settled back on his throne, fingers resuming their methodical tapping.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Like a countdown to war.