Hers collapsed onto the cold marble of the Olympian council chamber, golden ichor trailing in his wake, painting the floor with streaks of celestial blood. His chest heaved, every breath a struggle, his limbs trembling from exhaustion and dread. Around him, the gods of Olympus stood frozen—an audience of divine judgnt, startled not by the weakness of Hers, but by what it ant. For him to return like this… sothing was terribly wrong.
Hers, the swiftest among them, always a blur of motion and confidence, now barely clung to life.
"Hers!" bood Zeus, his voice splitting the air like thunder as he stood from his throne. Lightning danced around his shoulders as clouds churned above the open do. "What happened? I thought I sent you to deal with that accursed god-slayer!"
Hers, his silver eyes wide with fear, managed to whisper through the pain, "You… You don't understand. He's not mortal… not entirely. He has… multiple souls inside him. One of them… a ghostly Spartan. A monster in human form. He—he played with us. Like we were nothing…"
He coughed, spitting golden blood. "Heracles, Ares, Artemis… they fought with everything. And he still tore them apart. I only escaped… to warn you. And… and one more thing."
Hers dragged his eyes up to Zeus, who now stood at the center of the chamber, his face darkening. Hers whispered, "He… He bears your blood. The sa… divinity as you. He might be your son, Zeus."
Silence fell like an axe.
The air in the chamber turned suffocating. Hera's eyes blazed as she turned to Zeus, her voice like venom, "You bred another demi-god? After you decreed it was forbidden! Does your hypocrisy know no bounds?!"
Before the others could react, Zeus's palm lashed out with a crack of thunder. The blow sent Hera flying, crashing into the base of her throne. She groaned, wiping blood from her mouth, but her eyes never wavered in hatred.
Zeus's voice was like an earthquake. "I AM KING OF THE GODS. I OWE NONE OF YOU JUSTIFICATION." He paced forward, aura flaring violently. "But I have not lain with any mortal since that decree, twenty years ago. This mortal—this Edward—he is not of this world. The Fates themselves… have no record of his origin."
Another stunned silence. Even Athena looked shaken.
Zeus continued, grim and heavy. "I contacted the Three Sisters. They only saw… a shadow being dragged into our world by a force beyond even our comprehension. Edward is not of this ti. He was brought here. I don't know why. But he ca into conflict with Poseidon after the Sea God killed his companion, Polyphemus. That sparked his wrath… and now…"
Zeus clenched his fist, lightning sparking between his fingers.
"He's chosen us—Olympus—as his enemy."
As if on cue, a tremor echoed through the chamber. A dreadful, guttural sound not of this world. The great stone wall behind the thrones, upon which glowed the divine symbols of each Olympian god, began to crack. The first to shatter—Heracles.
The god's symbol, his lion pelt and club etched in gold, exploded in a burst of light and dust.
Then ca Artemis. Her crescent moon sigil split clean down the middle, bursting like glass.
And then—Ares. His war helm cracked and caved in, flas erupting as his authority crumbled into oblivion.
The gods watched in mute horror as three major symbols faded from existence. Three gods, gone in a single day.
Hestia whispered, "This… this cannot be real…"
Hephaestus's forge hamr trembled in his hand.
Athena, ever composed, stepped forward. "Father. We must act. We cannot let emotions cloud our reason. Whether he is mortal or divine, he is a threat. One who has already slain four Olympians. We must put aside our pride and—"
Zeus turned to her, eyes flaring. "Are you suggesting we bow to a mortal?!"
Athena stood tall. "I am suggesting we survive."
Before the matter could be pressed further, a blinding light flashed near the throne of Hera. The queen of Olympus, standing now, wiped the blood from her lip and glared at everyone with disgust.
"I want no part in this madness," she said bitterly. "Whether he is mortal or bastard child of yours, I will not stain my hands fighting your sha, Zeus."
Then she vanished in a golden shimr, gone from Olympus.
Zeus's voice echoed with fury, shaking the heavens. "You coward! I'll deal with you after I end that mortal!"
But even he could feel the tremor of uncertainty now. Four gods—gone. And only a handful remained with the strength to take the field.
His gaze drifted across the chamber. Hestia, Deter, Aphrodite—powerful in their own right, but their domains were not of war. They could not stand on the frontlines. Of the battle-ready gods, only he, Athena, Hephaestus, and Hades remained.
Zeus's eyes burned with resolve. "We cannot wait for the others to return. It will take decades for Ares, Artemis, Heracles, and Poseidon to regenerate through worship and faith. But we can make use of their divine authorities."
He extended his arms toward the divine sphere suspended above the throne—an orb containing the residual power and domains of every Olympian. Threads of energy burst forth, connecting to the surviving gods.
"Athena," Zeus intoned, "You shall hold Ares's domain of war and bloodlust. Use it well."
She clenched her fist, and her eyes flared red as the power surged into her.
"Hephaestus," Zeus continued, "I grant you Heracles's physical might and authority over heroism. Let your forge beco a weapon."
The forge god roared as fla enveloped his crippled fra, strength surging through him.
"Deter," Zeus said, "Though you are not a hunter, I give you Artemis's domain of beasts and moonlight. Wield it to defend Olympus."
Deter's eyes glead silver, her aura expanding with new instincts.
Finally, his gaze settled on the god of wine, Dionysus, who cowered in the corner, eyes wide.
"Dionysus," Zeus growled, "You will hold Poseidon's authority over the sea and storms. It is ti you prove your usefulness."
Dionysus tried to protest, but the mont the power surged into him, his body arched and twisted, veins glowing with aquamarine energy. His drunken sway straightened slightly as the sea churned inside him.
The chamber trembled with divine energy. The new gods of war, beast, storm, and strength stood reborn with borrowed power.
****
The salty breeze rustled the canopy overhead as Edward lay on the sun-drenched clearing of the quiet island. Waves lapped gently at the rocky shore in the distance, a rhythmic backdrop to the aftermath of divine carnage. He was alone — or so it seed.
Back in his regular form, Edward's body bore the marks of his brutal struggle — dried streaks of blood carved across his arms, a fresh wound slashed across his shoulder, still tender and aching. The bodies of Olympian gods had long since turned to ash, but their weight still clung to him. Not physically — no, he had crushed them, ripped them apart with divine fury borrowed from a ghost of vengeance — but emotionally.
If one could call it that.
He sat upright, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered, eyes blank. The wind tugged at his hair, and for a brief mont, he looked like a man drowning in silence.
But then, a chirp. Soft. Curious.
Edward lifted his head.
A small bird — no bigger than his hand — flitted through the trees and landed beside him, its head tilting in innocent inquiry. He stared at it. Wariness flickered across his face, but he didn't move.
"Fly away from here, little one," he muttered, voice low, hollow. "Only death awaits those who get near ."
The bird ignored him entirely. It hopped along the branch, leapt lightly onto his shoulder, and chirped again — bright, musical.
He blinked, puzzled. Then, without aning to, the corner of his lip tugged upward. Not a fake smirk. A genuine warm smile.
"Fearless little one, aren't you?" he said, barely above a whisper. He lifted a finger, gingerly brushing the soft crown of the bird's head. It chirped again and nestled slightly against him, like it had known him for years.
Edward let out a soft exhale. It wasn't quite a laugh, but sothing close. He hadn't felt that in a long ti.
He hadn't noticed until now, but the woods were alive with noise. Chittering, rustling, distant howls. One by one, animals erged from the foliage. Birds perched in trees above him. A deer trotted into the clearing and knelt beside him, licking the dried blood from his shoulder. A lion, an actual lion, padded forward, eyes calm, and settled at his side, tail flicking. It purred softly and licked his hand.
Foxes, rabbits, wolves, and even a bear lumbered forward. They didn't attack. They didn't fear. They simply gathered. So even carried herbs in their mouth , which they put in front of Edward, and nudged him.
Edward looked around, stunned.
His spoke, voice genuinely amused "What are you guys doing here? Am I in a petting zoo? Thanks for bringing dicine for I guess."
He chuckled to himself and leaned back against a tree, surrounded by purring, bleating, rustling life. For once, there was warmth in his tone. A glimr of peace in the storm that had beco his soul.
"But this…" he whispered, "This feels nice."
The animals chattered around him, so fearless ones jumping on him, playing.
And then, like all peace in his life, it ended abruptly.
A gust of wind shattered the stillness.
Wings beat above him — not feathered and divine, but leathery, like a bat's, massive and dark. Dust and leaves flew into the air. The animals screeched and scattered, disappearing back into the trees.
Edward stood in a flash, eyes narrowing.
A voice, smooth and laced with mischief, drifted down.
"Oh my," it said in a crisp British accent, "what do we have here? Looks like a bloody zoo. Are you the male version of that cartoon you mortals made? Snow White, was it?"
Edward turned sharply, glaring up.
A figure hovered above the treeline, wings spread. The face he wore was monstrous — jagged, twisted, sothing out of humanity's oldest nightmares. Horned. Grinning. And clearly enjoying himself.
Edward's voice was cold. "Has hell beco so empty that demons are traveling to Earth for holidays?"
The creature chuckled, drifting down gracefully.
"Hell is still at maximum occupancy, I'm afraid," it said, landing with a quiet thud. "You humans do love to sin, after all."
Edward's fists clenched, still tired but alert.
"I'm not in the mood for this," he said. "So state your na and why you're here. Don't bla if you get into a crossfire."
The demon raised his hand — and with a shimr, his horrifying form dissolved. What stood in his place now was… handso. Incredibly so. Dark hair, stubble, roguish smile. A tailored black suit. His eyes glimred with charm and danger.
"Ah, so business before pleasure," the man said with a wink. "I understand. Killing 4 gods would leave anyone a bit grumpy."
He offered a slight bow. "Where are my manners! Allow to introduce myself. The na's Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar. And I'm here because you gave off a rather… familiar presence."
Edward stared at him for a long mont. Then groaned.
"Oh Fuck ! "
Lucifer bead. "Oh, you flirt. Maybe after a couple of dates."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "No homo, dude. I don't swing that way."
Lucifer clutched his heart dramatically. "Oh, the heartbreak. But alas, that's the story of my life — mortals just can't handle this level of temptation."
Edward exhaled sharply through his nose. "The na's Edward , Edward Elric. But sohow I think you already know that. Since you're here… am I getting a private, one-way trip to hell, escorted by you? Would it help if I say I'm allergic to fire?"
Lucifer scoffed, strolling around him like a cat circling prey. "Please. Nothing so boring, I'm afraid. I was simply intrigued. You see, I sensed a very specific kind of… chaos. A ripple in the divine hierarchy. I thought the Greeks would respond, but it seems they have their hands full with you."
Edward folded his arms, studying the devil in front of him. "You just popped down from the throne of damnation because you were curious?"
Lucifer smiled. "Of course. I'm many things, Edward — a nightclub owner, a consultant, a lover of fine wine — but above all else, I do hate being left out of interesting things. And you…" He gestured broadly. "You are very interesting."
Edward rolled his eyes, muttering, "Wonderful. First the gods, now the devil's a fan."
Lucifer's grin widened. "You're not just so random mortal touched by power. There's sothing else inside you. Sothing ancient." He leaned in closer, his voice softer, more serious now. "Tell , Edward. Who are you truly?"
Edward didn't answer.
Lucifer chuckled, brushing invisible dust off his jacket. "Fine. Keep your secrets. I'm not here to fight you, not today, at least. consider this a friendly visit."
He paused.
"Oh , by the way, If you ever do get sent to hell…" He winked. "Make sure you ask for ."
Edward rolled his eyes with a half-sigh, brushing a hand through his dusty, windswept hair. The prehistoric landscape around them was quiet again—too quiet, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. He looked Lucifer dead in the eye, one brow arching skeptically.
"How does that even work?" Edward gestured to the primitive forest and the distant roar of a sabretooth tiger. "This is clearly three thousand years before civilization. How the hell do you own a bar?"
Lucifer Morningstar—dressed immaculately as always in a deep charcoal suit that had no business existing in the Bronze Age—grinned with that devilish charm that made everything he said sound like a flirt. "Ah, but that's the thing, dear Edward. The multiverse. A cosmic buffet of possibilities, really. I usually vacation on Earth 666. Has a certain... hellish charm, you might say. Plus, it's conveniently my calling number."
He winked, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Edward chuckled and lazily flicked his wrist. In a flash of golden light, the Gate of Babylon shimred open behind him—opulent, gleaming, ancient. A gilded flask drifted out as if summoned by thought, hovering before settling neatly into his palm.
"Want a drink?" he offered casually, shaking it with a tallic clink. "Genuine Babylonian vintage. Very exclusive collection."
Lucifer raised a brow and placed a hand on his chest, mock-affronted. "Well, we just t, and already you're offering drinks? Rather forward of you Edward. Not that I mind. It's been ages since I've had sothing that predates Jesus. I do hope it's strong."
He smirked again before gracefully lowering himself onto the grass, crossing one leg over the other like he was lounging in his penthouse suite at Lux, not in so prehistoric clearing.
Edward uncorked the flask and poured the dark, fragrant wine into a pair of crystalline cups he conjured from the gate. He passed one to Lucifer, who held it up to the sun, swirling it with practiced flair.
"Would it be too much," Edward asked, settling beside him, "if I asked you to take to your Earth? This ancient era doesn't really suit . No coffee. No Wi-Fi. No sarcasm."
Lucifer took a slow sip, eyes fluttering slightly at the taste, lips curving in genuine appreciation. "Mmm. Exotic. Notes of pogranate… and subtle murder." He sighed dramatically. "Sadly, no can do. Daddy dearest has so very specific ideas about your being here. I'm just a poor little devil trying not to start another divine war. Not this week, anyway."
Edward exhaled, long and annoyed. "So the Presence is behind this little Isekai experint, huh?"
Lucifer nodded, stretching his arms behind him as he lay back on the grass. "Seems like it. Though I must say, the Japanese have oddly specific preferences. Getting hit by a truck and waking up in another world? Creative, sure. But it really doesn't translate well to actual taphysical logistics. Doesn't work in real life—I tried. The DMV paperwork alone is infernal."
Edward laughed. "You're a chill guy, Lucy. Almost makes forget you're supposed to be the baen of mankind. So, wanna hear a secret?"
Lucifer turned his head lazily, smirking. "Flattery will get you everywhere. But before that, I must ask..." He suddenly sat up, his tone shifting ever so slightly as he leaned closer, his voice smooth and low. "Tell , Edward... what is it that you desire?"
The mont hung unnaturally still. A force pressed against Edward's consciousness, subtle at first—like warm breath on the back of his neck. It slithered into his thoughts, poking at the walls of his mind, tugging at truths even he hadn't fully voiced.
But Edward didn't flinch. He t Lucifer's gaze, with his usual expressionless face.
"For now?" he said calmly. "I desire nothing."
Lucifer blinked. His power faltered for a fraction of a second, surprise flickering across his face. "Huh. That... usually never fails."
Edward gave a casual shrug, taking another sip of wine. "I'm special. So... want to hear the secret or not? It'll cost you a favor though."
Lucifer arched a brow but looked intrigued. "Oooh, I do love a secret. Alright, lay it on ."
Edward's voice turned calm, almost clinical. "Your devil face—it's not so divine punishnt. It's you. Your own contradiction, your inability to forgive yourself. Deep down, you believe you deserve to suffer. That's why it exists. But the mont you truly accept yourself, truly feel redeed—your wings, the angelic ones, they'll return. And the devil face? Gone."
The words echoed through the clearing. Lucifer's playful deanor dropped, replaced by a cold stillness. He stared at Edward, the wine forgotten in his hand.
His voice ca quiet, tense. "How do you know that? That's not supposed to be sothing a mortal could ever know."
Edward just raised a brow. "Different worlds, rember? I said it. What you do with it is your business." He gestured toward him. "But you owe one now."
Lucifer was silent for a long mont. Then, he let out a soft chuckle—tinged with sothing heavier. He smoothed his hair, collected himself, and put the grin back on like a mask.
"You have my thanks. That secret... cuts deeper than you know." He tilted his head. "But I'm curious. Why aren't you afraid of ? Most humans have a default setting set to hate . Fire, brimstone, the works."
Edward leaned back on his hands, smirking. "Maybe because you look like Tom Ellis. He's rather cool. Maybe I felt sympathy for the devil. Or maybe… I'm just bored."
Lucifer stood up, dusted off invisible dirt from his suit jacket, and stretched his shoulders like a cat waking from a nap. "You're no fun, Edward. Being all cryptic and mysterious. But I hear you."
With a snap of his fingers, a small black card appeared in a burst of fla. It hovered in the air for a mont before floating down into Edward's open palm. Embossed in crimson foil, it depicted the Devil seated at a piano, bathed in shadows and firelight.
"Tear that card when you need ," Lucifer said smoothly. "One-ti use. No refunds, no extensions. Don't be greedy."
Edward glanced at the card, then nodded once. "An to that."
Lucifer chuckled. "Now that's ironic." He stepped back, his silhouette frad by the rising moon. Slowly, magnificent wings—majestic, leathery, and black as obsidian—unfurled from his back.
"See you soon, Edward," he said with a smirk.
"I'd rather not," Edward chuckled.
Then, with one powerful beat, Lucifer soared into the night sky. No flash of light, no dramatic thunderclap—just wind, moonlight, and silence.
Edward stood there for a mont, staring at the card in his hand, the wine flask still floating beside him. The air felt a little colder without the devil around. He tucked the card into his coat and let out a quiet laugh.
"Well," he muttered, "That was certainly not how I thought my Tuesday would go."
Far above, wings cutting through clouds, Lucifer allowed himself the faintest of smiles.
"He's nothing like I imagined…" he murmured to the wind.
He whispered absent mindedly as he stared above the clouds. perhap beyond it. "He shall rule over the fish in sea, The birds in the sky, and hold dominion over all animals that moves on the land, huh? Father does have a weird sense of humor."
He shook his head with a smile, " Things are getting rather interesting."
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