Kintsugi

by The White Wulf

The practice of repairing broken pottery with precious metals. it signified the importance of an item's history and the beauty of imperfections. In one reality, the God Hephaestus experiences such a concept. The melding of Heroic Spirit and Divine Entity creating an impossible miracle. A new God walks the earth...for good or ill. (Will go from Ancient Greece to modern day).

8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: This chapter has been Beta read in part with my new editor Will. S Levi! They have been hard at work getting not just this chapter but ALL chapters of Kintsugi up to speed and proof read. Rather than rush Will's incredible work, I have decided to post this chapter once it was finished, edited parts and unedited parts, for your enjoyment! Once the chapter is fully edited, it will be reuploaded along with all the other chapters currently being worked on. A huge round of applause for Will!

P.S: Stories for the future will be posted on the bottom of the chapter that are available for vote. Please note that voted stories are not guaranteed to be written. It is very likely (almost for sure), but the muse can strike in strange ways. Anyway, on to the part you guys actually want!

Kintsugi Chapter 8:

Atlas. The Titan of Endurance. Out of everything Hephaestus was expecting when he returned to his abode, he was certainly not it. Still...it was bound to happen eventually. The issue wasn't necessarily the Titan, but rather why he was here. Why was he destroying and maiming the populace of this island?

Hephaestus doubted the Titan cared much for any destruction he left in his wake, but as a general, there must have been a purpose. Destruction without purpose went against the stern and diligent image Hephaestus had heard of.

Sitting outside, mindlessly ruffling the feathers of the phoenix resting on his knees, the god of fire was busy attempting to find some solution to their problem. The humans were long gone, the last remaining people housed within his home. The population, as he understood it, wasn't that large to begin with...but it was a tragedy regardless. However, even amidst all those deaths, the more mystical denizens were hit the hardest. From them, he learned that Atlas was not alone. Accompanied by an entourage of beasts and spirits, the Titan let them run loose across the island, and considering the nature of Atlas...these creatures were the makings of an army.

"If I recall," thought Hephaestus, "there was a myth that Atlas staged a rebellion against Zeus after the war…the consequences of which was holding the weight of the sky."

It wasn't exactly ideal, but it was the best information he could work with for why Atlas had an army– but not for why he was here. The rebellion, to Hephaestus, made little sense. Most of the Titans had moved on from the war, or at least were neutral enough nottoback Atlas' pursuits blindly. After all, what use was there in rebelling? The reign of the Olympians, while flawed, was markedly better than the previous reign. Monetarily speaking, there was little to gain.

The whole thing didn't make much sense to him. There were too few monsters and spirits here for a genuine rampage against Olympus as well. The human village was obliterated, yes, but if this was an army meant to contend with the Gods…they fell terribly, laughably, short.

The sound of hooves echoing on stone, and a familiar scent of herbs, made him turn to face Kassandra. She had a slightly guilty look, but he didn't blame her. His solitude was not worth the lives of others. If his home can be a sanctuary, then let it be so. It was a bit contradictory…but then again, he was always a hypocrite, both before and after his merging with EMIYA.

"Kassandra," he nodded.

She swallowed her anxiety, the solemn tone to Hephaestus' gravelly voice. It said more than any confirmation he could have said.

"You're going to confront Atlas?"

He nodded and stood, the black metal of his legs shining and strong.

Kassandra looked to the oceans, hating the hopeful looks the nymphs had from the edges of the water. Her friend was a perceptive sort, kind of. The nymphs, critters, and more of the island made it a game to spy on him often, giggling when he looked their way and noticed nothing. Her face twisted in a morph of desperation. Desperate for her friend, yes, but also hopeful he could resolve all this. Still…

"I know you're strong," she said, wringing her hands as he came closer, "but this is Atlas! ATLAS! This is a genuine Major Titan and—"

She stilled at the familiar warmth that washed over her. She had felt the divinity of Hecate, Pan, and even Hermes once. Each of them felt distinct, even pleasant. But it always felt otherworldly– like it was detached from everything around her. It made her skin crawl. Yet, the warmth she felt from him, from Hephaestus– she hated to admit how much it reassured her, how…human it felt. How sturdy it seemed. Just like the products of what he forged.

She sighed, crossing her arms.

"I can't convince you…can I?"

He said nothing in response, only uttering a single set of instructions as he began moving towards the ruckus further north.

"Move everyone to Wis' tree. The barrier there is stronger than anything we've set up here so far. You'll be safest there. He won't be able to find you. Gather as many Nymphs and—"

He jumped a bit, a small child-like nymph skittering from a flower beneath his notice. He ignored it, continuing his movement.

"Gather as many as you can, whatever victims you find, and get them elsewhere."

He had no idea how the conflict with Atlas would go…but he knew he wasn't simply going to stand by and let the Titan do as he was wont to do.

"Very well…but Hephaestus?" With the centauress' voice resigned and calling him by name, the Smith of Olympus turned to meet her eyes. There was hesitation in them yet another emotion brimmed. Faith. "Promise me that you'll come back?"

There was only one proper response to that.

"Of course. We have much to do. I will see you later Kassandra."

She let out another sigh, but this one was lighter than before, her posture following suit with resolution. Duty. "I'll get them to safety. See you later Hephy."

And with her damnable nickname for him spoken, she was off before he could even say not to call him that. Her figure grew more distant as she traveled to help those that remained. And he returned to his trek.

For a moment, he thought of blitzing the Titan with Caladbolg, the Spiral Rainbow Sword. Whether it was the original sword utilized by the Ulster King or the version that EMIYA had modified to be a projectile wouldn't matter, it would end with the Titan's defeat or at the very least, getting him close to such a state. By Tartarus, he had access to weapons EMIYA could only dream of conjuring!

Unfortunately, using the Noble Phantasm in either manner, especially to do so to defeat Atlas, would likely destroy the very island they were on, defeating the purpose of protecting everyone. Not to mention it was an assumption that the noble phantasms themselves could harm a God so thoroughly. He had anti-immortal weapons, certainly, but differences in nature…there was no guarantee. There were also the weapon's restrictions to the amount of mystical energy for something like that was impossible, mainly due to the nature of the item itself. The lowest amount of energy needed to even activate the thing did little to alter its power. It could only be overcharged, and nothing else.

Hephaestus spent his time, moving slowly as he pondered carefully what course of action was best. As a Titan, Atlas was a powerhouse. One built to withstand the fervor of battle with an unending endurance, a concept that the older deity embodied very well.

If it did become a physical confrontation…then could he win? Every conflict he had so far with his kin was ultimately bloodless. Sure, the mix of favors and tasks he received, was something he was still getting used to. The idea that the outcome was to be forcibly upheld, even against your will, was a concept that he had difficulty understanding. So much power– and yet they used it on each other like this?

Would Atlas be the same? Somehow, he doubted it. Atlas was likely similar to Ares. He preferred his battles messy.

Hephaestus forged through the trees and grass, covering the way for the nature spirits that hurried to safety in the path behind him. More and more funneled his way, and what few pursuits followed them were skewered in a shower of metal. The golden dust fluttered through the wind, catching his eye for but a moment.

"…conflicts between Gods are rarely combative," he thought, "there is little way to enforce your intent on another if you're simply fighting…"

Even if another God defeated you, it did nothing to prevent you from running away, barring extreme circumstances. After all, while a God could use the consequences of the battle to their favor, it was still in the aftermath of the conflict, not during. Revenge meant little if it took you a hundred years to reform. By then, your enemy had already had time to move unimpeded….supposedly.

It was a fact that was inferred for now, and not yet confirmed by Hephaestus' rigorous standards. It irritated him slightly that he didn't know what he was working with. The battlefield, combatants, and their goals all eluded him. For all of EMIYA's countless years of experience, it did little to help him here.

He tried to see things Atlas' way…but without knowing the bare minimum of the Titan's character, there was no genuine way to prepare. His anger grew with each step. The idea of not knowing his enemy was irritating. However, it was the idea that Atlas was simply allowing this senseless slaughter that infuriated him.

Hephaestus was ready for full combat, he had to be. Alerting the Gods didn't make any sense, because if they cared, they would be here. He was on his own. A case in point, as he entered the open fields. Not a deity he could call an ally in sight, not even Hermes to observe him. None but his enemies and thebasic civilization they destroyed.

It was a small fishing village, burnt to a cinder. Not a soul to be seen, its people slaughtered, and their spilled blood blackened from the heat. A sight just like that day.

Various creatures turned their heads to Hephaestus, circling him. Wariness or arrogance were what decorated their faces. One even tried to jump him, the dog head and dolphin flippers being its only notable features, before they were reduced to ashes and sent a clear message to the rest. One that was further enforced with a deafening screech as Ifrit lunged from within, her fires burning an azure blue. For a moment she was massive, a torrent of fire screeching the others into silence. With that deed done, his friend reduced in size to sit comfortably on his shoulder.

Hephaestus looked at the burning remains of the village, scowling at the desecration wrought on the innocents who lived there. It was completely unnecessary. Just like that day.

"Well, you finally arrived."

The God of Fire turned, eyeing the tanned man who walked towards him, the crowd of beasts parting for him. His dark hair and eyes paired well with his olive skin. His lips spread in an easy smile, confidence with every step. He wore what could only be what the Titans attributed as war regalia. His chest plate left his muscular arms out in the open, his legs protected by the pteruges. It was all a gaudy gold and black ensemble but surprisingly simple in appearance.

The man bit a golden apple, letting the fragments fall to the ground. A group of smaller creatures ravaged over it, goblin-like in appearance. They then, obviously, blew up from what he assumed was divine energy.

It was not a pretty death.

Atlas raised a hand and a throne of hardened stone gouged out of the ground. With a relaxed posture, he took the seat without a care not a few meters from Hephaestus himself.

"You've been waiting for me?" asked the blacksmith.

Atlas shifted his weight to the right as he sat, resting his head on his hand. His finger crossed his nose, a small look of vexation on his otherwise relaxed expression.

"Of course, I have been. When I got to this diminutive rock imagine my surprise sensing your divinity and nothing of Wis."

He sneered, a cold glare piercing through Hephaestus…or at least attempted to. Moments passed before the expression dissipated, replaced by another. There was a begrudging respect as Hephaestus crossed his arms, unfazed. Hephaestus kept his gaze on the armies behind Atlas…imagine his surprise as he noticed the five goddesses. They stood silently and stared at him with a sort of dead expression.

"You took something of mine," stated Atlas, which brought his attention back to the Titan.
If Atlas was hoping for a response, he received none. Instead, there was only a dismissive glance to meet the brewing fury.

"I highly doubt that," uttered Hephaestus a moment later.

The disrespect was genuine and for once…Hephaestus was tired of being polite. And this one deserved no such courtesy. More so when Atlas merely smirked.

"You have some fire in you," he drawled, "Good. This wouldn't be fun otherwise. No, you took something of mine. I can't find Wis anywhere on this island…and yet here you walk stinking of her."

Atlas' stone-grey eyes bored into him.

Hephaestus blinked. He stank? Of Wis? The memory of the tree he chopped down was really the only explanation that could have any link to this, but even that was a stretch to his mind.

His befuddlement must have been obvious, as Atlas soon rolled his eyes.

"Come now, do you honestly expect me to believe you've never met the nymph before? Do not lie to me Godling. I don't know how you've come to lay claim to her, but she was mine long before she was yours. I don't know how you've hidden her from me…an impressive bit of spell work I'll admit."

Atlas snapped his fingers, one of the goddesses behind him stepping forward. Though much younger, she looked exactly like Atlas or rather, had the regality he projected, along with her four other sisters. She bore a begrudging look, as her hands glowed with a similar shade to Hecate. A student perhaps? Unlikely.

The glow surrounded Hephaestus, turning into a more brownish hue, like that of the divine wood he had chopped down.

"As you can see…godling. False truths have no place here. Now…give her to me."

A thousand thoughts ran in the God of Fire's head and just as many blades stirred at the ready.

"You want…Wis? As powerful a Nymph, she may be…but she is just a nymph." He then gave another shrug before his golden eyes met the stony visage of the invader.

Wis was far more than that, Hephaestus knew, but the dismissive logic was more in line with his kin. This was the most information he had about Atlas thus far, the more he learned the better.

Atlas scowled.

"So, she hid it even from a lover. Figures."

Hephaestus' face went blank trying to decipher what on Gaia was going on.
"Does he think I remain here for whatever Wis has hidden? I can see the logic if it has value– and it must be valuable if he brings an army to help secure it. Still…he's making a lot of assumptions. How in the Pit is he assuming I'd be Wis' lover?"

"Whatever the case, it doesn't matter," the Titan dismissed, not even waiting for his reply. "If you won't show me, then I'll tear it all apart until I do find it."

The Titan whistled, the sound sharp like a javelin and loud as thunder. A few beasts began to move, intent on scouring the entire island for their prey. Just as they had done inthis tiny village. They were going to repeat it…while he was still there.

It wouldn't happen here, he refused! Within his mind, the image of a hammer striking an anvil echoed… and the hammer struck true.

In a span of lightning, the beasts were skewered by flying pieces of metal, exploding into bits of bloody gore and dispersed golden dust. The sight of their damned kin being sent to the Pit in an instant stayed the rest. To the creatures, what had attacked and slain the others disappeared within moments, too fast to really see. Yet, Atlas saw them for the blades that they were.

The Titan of Endurance grinned, feeling the bloodlust starting to take hold as he crushed an armrest to dust. His daughter behind him cringed and soon joined her sisters who seemed far more comfortable with the savagery before them.

It was strange, Hephaestus thought as he looked at most of these women simply standing behind their father in an almost robotic fashion. Other than the odd one out who soon fell in line, it was as if they had nothing better to do than just obey. Stranger still…why bother even being here? What use did Atlas have for them? Atlas was beginning to stew in his bloodlust, and yet contrary to what Hephaestus felt, he decided to give one last courtesy…one last attempt to avoid a senseless battle.

"Leave," he intoned, his grizzled voice a balm to the chaos around them, "return to your home. I swear no harm will befall your kin or you…simply leave."

"Yes," drawled Atlas, "yet you expect me to abide by your word and leave my army to your mercy? I offer you this last courtesy brat, just…step aside."

The lack of empathy in his statement was telling. While he would stand by his words, Atlas was looking for a fight. Thus far, the supposed "general" of the Titans was a disappointment. A Titan ruled by baser instincts and a lust for battle, but only a fool would dismiss an opponent merely for that. After all, many of Archer's most dangerous opponents were outright insane.

If Atlas wanted a fight…then so be it.

Hephaestus uncrossed his arms, his eyes glowing as his own authority began to expand and take hold. The sound of hammers rumbling and blades chittering within. The blast of the forge awakened like a dragon's open maw.

The nervous daughter that had analyzed his divinity flinched, her brow growing in sweat as the true weight of the divine before her increased in pressure.

"Fath–"

She was silenced by a burst of divinity hitting her right in the mouth, her eyes watering at the light smack from her father. The sight was like a spark to a powder keg, the image of abuse cracking the steel exterior of Hephaestus' control. Atlas felt the air warm as Ifrit's flames sputtered with several popping sounds, the bird's eyes somehow narrowed in his direction. The stoic visage he saw on the blacksmith was gone, a small frown taking its place, one with a pressure he could feel now. But, for all this intensity, only a single word was spoken, a response to Atlas.

"No."

The place went quiet, the single word punching through the atmosphere Atlas had created. The silence became deafening, broken only as Atlas rose slowly with a groan. His voice tinged red by the growl underneath it. With each step, the ferocity became almost tangible.

For his part, Hephaestus could have easily just said Wis passed on, tried to lie, and simply moved things along…but no. This fool had no intention of leaving this be. Though he knew not of what the Titan truly wanted, the facts were there. His territory wasinvaded and innocents were once again slain. He could not let that stand. Not when he was here.

Atlas came close enough to sand chest to chest with him and scowled at the height Hephaestus had over him. It wasn't by much…but just enough that the Titan was the one who had to tilt his head up to lock eyes.

"I came here expecting Wis and her ilk, only to find her power usurped by another. She just couldn't keep it to herself, hmm? The spark of Gaia's power went to her head it seemed, trying to ingratiate herself to a Godling. I don't know what false promises she gave to you welp…but power like that isn't easy to handle. I'll say this only once more. I. Said. MOVE."

...wait what? The memory of the shard of Gaia's power that integrated with his reality marble flickered in his mind. No God or Titan could senselessly use the damn thing, what was Atlas thinking!? Granted…there were limits to his knowledge. If there truly was a way…than even more reason to fight back.

"…you're here for that?" he whispered, shock still on his face from the disbelief. The thing was basically useless so far. And now here Atlas all but revealed that there was more to it. There was more here…but Hephaestus doubted it. If even Hecate, the Titan of Magic left the damn thing alone even when she was beside it.

Atlas grinned, his eyes glinting with the urge to close in. He could taste his quarry, it was close. The desecration of a Godling was nothing to the restoration of the Titans.

"Of course. Wis was one of the few that the Earth Mother trusted with it. Do you even know what can be done with that kind of power? What are you? A dullard?"

Hephaestus was surprised to learn that the spark was usable in some form, valuable even…and that he apparently 'stank' like Wis. A problem to solve for later.

"…you're here to wage war on Olympus. You need this spark for something?"

Atlas scowled, stretching his shoulders and moving away from him. He would not speak more on this.

Hephaestus narrowed his eyes, watching as the daughters of Altas removed some of their father's regalia…they were more like servants than his children.

"I'm not wasting time on this, anymore. I have given every courtesy."

The Titan of Endurance growled before he moved, the daughters almost being thrown back from the force had it not been for their divinity flaring.

Hephaestus lurched forward as Atlas punched him in the stomach. It was the start-up for a quick combo, the blow rattling the air around them as Atlas followed up with blows spearing into his chest. Punch after punch was thrown with divine might and honed skill. Each hit like a clap of thunder as it struck flesh and bone. Eventually, he ended the short blows with a haymaker to Hephaestus' head, driving Hephaestus to his knees. The blow echoed in the clearing, with every intention of ending it here and now.

Alas, it was a fruitless hope. The God's head moved to the side, willing to take the blows to get a gauge of Atlas' strength, blades were trained at the back of the Titan, just in case. A contingency that was unneeded. Hephaestus rose, towering over Atlas once more, a streak of red blood flowing from his mouth. The sight made some monsters jeer, their mouths salivating at the idea of a mortal god they could actually devour. Atlas spat to the ground, the earth trembling slightly at his rage.

"The spark! Now!"

"Hm."

Atlas scowled, detesting the way Hephaestus merely turned his head back to him, his eyes steady even as they locked onto his own. No, instead they glowed with ethereal might. Of strength yet untapped.

"No."

That word again. That single word ignited a hate in Atlas, his eyes restricted to a pin point. There had been dozens who defied him openly, most in far more egregious ways than a simple no. Yet, it was the eyes that infuriated him. The reminder of a pathetic loss to the wife of Zeus in a contest of strength, STRENGTH! It was absurd! He was her superior in combat, of that he was certain…but it was the one blow that he had allowed her to hit that done him in. One blow had sent him spiraling from the conflict, rushing to return, and finding only defeat in his wake. A general taken out of a battle in such a manner…it was an insult of the highest order!

That same dismissive glance, as if Atlas was nothing. It ignited that spiteful and petty center like nothing else. His beasts all responded in a way the haunches of each squared and ready to strike. Yet, the more intelligent monsters felt something brewing.

"I…will rend every agony on you, you arrogant little gnat!"

Golden eyes narrowed at Atlas, who had whistled again and directed the beasts forward. He wasn't foolish enough to simply rush forward, no matter his anger. There was more going on here, the glow of untapped divinity and those same eyes…the same mistake would not be repeated. This god before him took several blows that would have taken minor gods to their knees from the first punch alone and pulverized them with each successive blow. Whoever this was…the Titan would at least admit he was no pushover.

Atlas narrowed his eyes at his more intelligent pawns, who stood still, wondering why they were hesitant to listen, even as his legions charged from the tree line. Then he felt it. A surge of heat that blistered even his skin. He turned and his eyes went wide as a creature surged from the Godling's shoulder. Before, it was a threat, but one that was mostly a show. The bird was powerful yes, but no more than the more monstrous of his army. How many could a lone Pheonix truly destroy? Now? He felt it within this moment the full folly of his assumptions. This "godling" was an Olympian…an Olympian who had a screaming Phoenix that terrified his forces to submission, making even the most basic of his beast's stall.

The Titan of Endurance stood, enraptured by the sight of the bird coiling around this Godling…no, this God. It had become a Divine Beast for the boy– a symbol of his unassuming might. The bird screamed, and its azure flames burned ever hotter, expanding far beyond the scope of what was normal for their kind. Like a tempest, its wingspan furled large enough to carry several men, and every moment it grew the flames spread, twisting monsters in an anguish of gold ash. The hellish heat was potent enough to raze anything of a weaker stock, with every beast being reduced to an echo. The weaker monsters began to peel at the seams, the raw divinity breaking and sundering those that could not withstand it, while the stronger monsters became weary. One Astrapi Dragon, a beast that had grown powerful feeding of Zeus' lightning, merely watched in the woods.

Atlas ignored the way the dragon lumbered far away, leaving the battlefield. The intelligent beast would get its due when he was done here.

"GET BACK!" The command left the combatants' lips, all for different reasons and all of the gathered forces quickly gave them a massive berth as they tried to get out of the way of the expanding circle of killing heat. A number of them were a touch too slow and faced annihilation. His daughters on the other hand flared their divinities as best as they could and huddled behind his back as he too flared his.

If it hadn't beenfor Atlas' reactions and Hephaestus' quick thinking, the rest of his army would have dispersed in both senses of the word at that moment.

But then the moment passed, now all were free to see the immortal creature's splendor.

Atlas stared at the legendary bird, basking in the rarity of its sight before he gave a momentary glance at his daughters. Though they kept their divinities up to defend themselves from the scorching heat of the blazing avian, there was still the fact that they had to huddle near him for protection, their eyes lost at the sight before them.

He would normally reprimand his daughters for their lack of focus. Aegle especially stared, her love for elementals running deep enough to even bring expression to her face. A fact he would normally breach her on…yet this was one time he would not. Not with the power and glory of this creature.

Atlas knew the flames of a Phoenix were hot…but hot enough to burn with divine flames? To burn an azure blue was already a strange sight, but to burn with divinity? Even for all his planning, this was not something he expected. He needed to change things, twist them back into his favor. Atlas turned, raising his fist to what remained of his army. It was substantial, but the reduction was noticeable.

"Retreat and hold!" He ordered his beasts, though they didn't need much of an order.

"Ifrit…calm."

The torrent of flame could not breach the wall of divine energy that Atlas used…but the damage had been done. The fact there was still grass and a forest spoke highly of Hephaestus' grit and focus.

Atlas ignored the slight raising of his lips, the thrum of battle echoing in his veins. He could tell that the god before him was uncomfortable, unused to an opponent blocking his flames. He could see that this Olympian was strong…yes…this could be fun!

Hephaestus grimaced as he inspected the possible damage to the surroundings.

He began to trace several weapons that might be useful here. Noble Phantasms, while powerful, didn't necessarily translate to harming divine beings, not to mention the idea that he even wanted to reveal them outright at this moment. He was ready for anything, and everything.

Atlas merely grinned. The thought echoed within him…what he could do with that power. He stomped his foot onto the ground, the earth beneath them shaking as he tore his divinity through the surface. Like an ethereal hand of enormous proportions sinking through the earth, his titanic power gripped the flower that was this island from its very roots.

Hephaestus narrowed his eyes, hating how Atlas effortlessly manipulated his energy to hold the island in a chokehold. Literally.

"This place…you consider it your home?"

While no words were spoken, Atlas knew. He merely gave a smile of malice that only a damned from Tartarus could be jealous of.

"A deal then, a contest of strength!"

Hephaestus blinked.

"What?"

The daughters of Atlas all rolled their eyes but kept silent.

"You heard me," he said, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue, "a deal."

He pointed to Hephaestus.
"I want your bird for my army. It would be the spearhead of my assault."

Ifrit bristled above him and in a blink of an eye, Atlas took a soaring sword to the head for his trouble. Rather, he caught the blade aimed for his head with a hand's width to spare and a smirk on his face. His eyes took aninterest in the weapon, examining each and every detail…before he crushed it into a sputtering of divine magic.

Hephaestus scowled at the casual way the God caught the nameless noble phantasm. It was one of the weaker ones he had…but confirmed that these Gods were easily in the ranks of Heroic Spirits. The question was if they were equal. Or superior. Time to find out.

"Surely you want to hear about what you'd win?"

The weapon dissipated into motes of light, stone-grey eyes upon golden eyes once more.

"Don't care. Won't happen," grunted Hephaestus.

Atlas grinned.

"I'll leave. Even better, neither myself nor any of my acquaintances will ever return to this island for any reason. So long as you engage in Pankration with me…I'll abide by those terms. I swear it on the Styx."

The sky rumbled and echoed with the severe might of the river Styx. Atlas blinked at the heavier feel of his oath, wondering when Styx got the juice to make him feel it even from here. Hephaestus however felt a familiar hand crawl up his back. He turned his head for a glance and saw nothing. He turned back to Atlas, glaring with every ounce of hate he could muster.

"No."

"Seriously," said Atlas, losing his smile, "it's a good deal."

"Fuck no."

The idea of chaining Ifrit to himself was a taste not unlike ash. It was done in a moment of weakness, a time in which Ifrit's constant pleading had finally worn him down.

He'd rather die than let Ifrit fall into anyone else's hands. But there was more to it. He knew what Atlas was really doing. Binding a Divine Beast like her to his service was only possible by binding the God it was connected to. Divine Beasts couldn't be burrowed and stolen like sacred animals, they were literally a part of the God itself, tethered together in a symbiotic fashion. It wasn't just Ifrit the Titan was after…it was him as well.

After all, should Atlas win the competition…he also wins the shard of Gaia he was after. Moreso, though the God of Fire had only forged four Symbols of Power thus far, word of their might and quality would have already reached the ears of many, and if not, then soon. It was only a matter of time.

Three birds, one stone. A respectable strategy, which was why, he was never going to let it happen.

Yet another was attempting to make use of his relative age. Hephaestus wasn't certain what other Gods saw that let them know how young he was...but it was annoying. He made a mental note thanking Hestia. Then he blinked, feeling a surge of shock echo through him.

He turned, wondering where the strange sensation came from.

Ifrit screeched, making him focus on her, who he now found had a challenging posture as it flapped its massive wings. The sentiment was clear.

BRING IT.

Hephaestus narrowed his eyes, the feelings that Ifrit had echoing within him.

"I am not betting our lives on something this stupid!"

Atlas lost a bit of his smirk, the understanding that Hephaestus was not as naive as he assumed altering the general's plans.

Ifrit turned to him, her friend, massive head staring down at him. He felt it as sure as he had felt anything. Ifrit wanted to fight. No, she wanted to win!

A thrum of an unfamiliar feeling echoed within his core…before it was crushed by his pragmatism. There was no reason to invoke his word and bind himself to this result. He would never do it.

Or rather…he wouldn't have. A crack appeared on the island, Atlas grinning as he began to systematically tear through the island with his power, stopping just short of the tectonic plates deep beneath their feet. Atlas may not have been an Earth God, but that didn't stop him from simply blitzing the area around him with raw power. It was also why Atlas had "gripped" the island earlier. This wasn't a deal. A deal implied there was a choice. Hephaestus was confident he could save Kassandra and the others…but the nymphs and spirits here were another story.

The Smith of Olympus looked into the woods. The faces of all the horrified forest spirits brought a weight to Hephaestus' back. Atlas was destroying the place. Perhaps the island would remain standing…but the supernatural aspects of the area would be riddled apart. It was why no one really fought the Gods when they took territory. There was no point fighting only to lose what you were fighting for, regardless of whether you won or lost. No…he wouldn't let that happen.

"This…show of strength…what are your terms?"

It was gutted out from him, every word, but Hephaestus stood ready. The idea of another collar around his neck…terrified him. But the sight of those who were about to lose their lives to this…idiot, scared him more.

"Simple," grinned Atlas, removing his sandals, "bare-handed. Strength against strength. We fight until only one is left standing."

Then, Hephaestus was struck with the realization of why Atlas was the general of Kronos. The Titan was not a simple meathead. No, it was worse than that. He was a meathead who knew it…and used it to his advantage.

The moment Atlas knew that Hephaestus had what he wanted, he acted. He analyzed Hephaestus just as Hephaestus analyzed him, took a hostage, and twisted the conflict to suit his needs.

Atlas was the Titan of Endurance. It was impossible to simply "knock" him out. He was the strongest Titan. Even the likes of Kratos, the God of Power, son of Pallas and Styx, could not match him.

Confidence in his strength andhis nature, using both to achieve the best outcome.

"…that's all?" asked Hephaestus.

"Yes. So…shall we?"

Atlas rushed him, with a determination to finish it quickly. Everything he needed was right in his grasp! The God was an Olympian-level threat but was ultimately young. Barely 30 summers from what he could tell. The damn thing even bled red! A simple pin and the Godling would not be able to do anything, trapped by Atlas in a struggle for endurance.

Which was exactly why Atlas was so surprised by the fist that broke his head. The crack of thunder came from every bone in his skull as it fractured from the impact of Hephaestus lunging forward and striking across his right temple.

Atlas felt the ichor pool from his eyes before the process reversed itself, almost immediately to leave unmarred skin. But that did little to stop the force he was subjected to as he skidded across the ground, his feet tearing grooves and coughing up more golden blood to stain it. He blinked to get his bearings, and Hephaestus was on him.

Atlas dodged a few blows, blinking away his surprise. He ducked a third blow and grabbed the younger deity's outstretched arm. He gripped it with a grin, intent on trapping the God, and prepared to do so…only for a metallic knee to slam into his groin with a resounding crunch.

Spittle flew from the Titan's mouth as it opened, andthen his jaw forcibly shut as Hephaestus hammered both fists to the back of his head. As his head impacted the ground, cratering the earth, his legs flew into the air andwerecaught by the God of Fire.

With a heave, the Olympian gripped Atlas' by the legs tightly, swinging him around to slam into the ground again, reversing the process one more time with a large heave. Atlas flew through the air, the look of shock still etched on his face. He flew so fast, thathis soldiers couldn't move away in time, the body of the Titan destroying any monster that impeded his path.

Both Immortals were using divinity to stay in the fight, and it could forcibly prevent their bodies from flying around the island from the force of their blows. But even so, Atlas had been sent flying. He slammed into one tree, the Nymph skittering away as she reinforced her home to withstand the impact.

Imagine her surprise when Hephaestus' divinity shrouded her tree, protecting it from the kinetic energy that should have torn through it. It was a sloppy execution…but did it matter if it got the job done?

Atlas coughed, his wounds already healing as he stood, a stupefied expression on his face. He blinked as Hephaestus rolled his shoulders. The Lord of Fire and Ash shimmied out of the upper part of his chiton, the cloth pooling around his waist, leaving the upper musculature bare.

He was muscular, in a way that Atlas had assumed was a purposeful alteration to Hephaestus' human form. After all, even the warriors like Atlas and Ares were more...beautiful than rugged.

Yet, as he fixed his jaw, the Titan of Endurance grew cold even as his blood soared to greater highs.

Atlas had to admit, he respected this one a bit more now. Even with howhe bore his fists toward him in caution and the god kept his distance, the power in that body was ready to strike.

"Fine," muttered Atlas as he tore off the ruined remains of his armor with a flex of his muscles. The celestial bronze, crumpled and broken off, shot off like shrapnel. "The result will be the same. You, buried in the dirt to nourish the Earth Mother."

Atlas always enjoyed combat like this. It was his domain, where his endurance was used to its maximum efficiency. After all, the divine were prideful. Some were smart like he was, but Atlas had themeans to circumvent that. He grinned, crushing the ground as he launched forward, intent on tackling Hephaestus.

For one so young, his instincts for combat were impressive. Rather than take the hit head-on, or dodge to the left or right, Hephaestus merely jumped over him. Atlas made to turn, but his opponent used his divinity in a way Atlas never saw coming.

It coiled around Hephaestus as if he had taken a deep breath, before bursting at the seams in a fiery explosion. The added momentum launched Hephaestus right into the blind spot of Atlas, his back, where he grabbed the Titan by the waist and suplexed him with all his strength. Archer was never an instinctive fighter, his skills honed entirely on the battlefield through trail and error. Hard earned, and engraved into his very soul. Yet, for all the memories, Hephaestus had to contend with something Archer never had.

Instinct.

The burn of Hephaestus' divinity never touched Atlas, and instead propelled the suplex to an even greater velocity, slamming Atlas into the ground with inhuman force. The ground erupted in a cloud of dust as the ground was shattering underneath him. Ifrit cawed above them, using the connection between them to filter Hephaestus' power to the earth around them, containing the kinetic energy as best it could. Funny, how his divine beast was far more adept at manipulating divinity in this manner.

From the clouds, Hephaestus jumped back, his hands itching to summon a noble phantasm...but he stilled it. The chance to banish Atlas from this place forever was too tempting at the moment...and he didn't know for certain what consequences lay in breaking his word. Too much to risk for an unknown.

With a savage roar, Atlas burst from the ground beneath Hephaestus with enough momentum to headbutt the God. The crunch of Hephaestus' nose was satisfying for Atlas, the general grabbing Hephaestus for a standard grapple.

Both of Atlas' hands were quickly countered and trapped by Hephaestus' own, the two locked into a battle of strength. Atlas felt his muscles bulge, the shock on his face growing with each moment. The boy was matching him, neither side moving. The ground splintered even further, the earth splitting asunder as their feet dug in and divided the land.

Atlas roared as he dug deep, his hate growing with each moment, the visage of Hephaestus' calm face burning him to draw even further power.

"Endurance," muttered Hephaestus, straining himself further against Atlas, feeling the give as Atlas slowly pushed through the earth, "you're smart to use it this way...but what exactly can you endure?"

Atlas blinked and then cringed as he felt the heat billow from Hephaestus, the air distorting.

"So, you're using fire!" The Titan grinned, feeling that he got the God right where he needed Styx to uphold the oath.

"That's against..."

Atlas blinked as he trailed off, realizing that no flames were licking at his forearms, no divinity ravaging his skin in the shape of fire. No...it was just heat. All the divinity was trapped inside Hephaestus himself. His body began to heat even further, his skin splitting and revealing lines and cracks of blue energy.

Atlas cringed, the invisible inferno screaming into his lungs, blistering his skin.

"IFRIT!" yelled Hephaestus.

From the corner of Atlas' eyes, he saw the shimmering heat waves funnel into the bird, the earth and trees left untouched by the godly heat. His monsters were not so lucky. The few that were intent on watching the confrontation closely were dropping dead, the raw heat blistering their skin, igniting it even in some cases. Yet, the godling didn't stop, the heat ever climbing!

The ground beneath them began to bubble and churn into magma. Atlas grinned, the sweat glistening off his body.

"You'll funnel through the ground soon enough! So why bother!"

Blue lines echoed from Hephaestus' legs, straight into the earth beneath the makeshift lava. He reinforced it as much as he possibly could, slowing the rate at whichthey burrowed into the earth. With his footing stable, he kept the blaze within going, further and further. All while the cries of ifrit echo in his ears.

Hephaestus wouldn't lose. No. He couldn't lose. Yet...even this blistering and unholy heat was not enough to deter the Titan of Endurance.

Even as their skin was blistered away, revealing a gold musculature, Atlas' eyes still shone with defiance. He wasn't any way near his limit.

Atlas would never fall...not so long as he breathed.

"...So be it," muttered Hephaestus.

The heat remained, but their grip on each other differed. Atlas had always been pushing forward, intent on grappling the young Hephaestus the moment his posture shifted. Knee-deep in magma did little to alter this intent, so Hephaestus used it. He relaxed his arms, letting Atlas charge forward at the same moment he stepped back.

The Titan howled in triumph as his arms clamped around the young god; his voice gone, disintegrated in the heat for the moment.

Hephaestus grimaced, feeling his ribs and spine creak as Atlas crushed his waist in his grip...but not before he had wrapped his arm around the older immortal's neck. Such a grip would not have much strength in normal circumstances. However, the divine might of the Titan General was great enough that even in this awkward grip, the strength exerted was incredible.

There was no way to stop Atlas, in a normal fight. In a contest of strength, endurance was a critical factor. It mattered little if you were stronger than your opponent if they could simply endure every painful blow or technique you embodied. Atlas would endure it all until his opponent simply gave up, or lost.

That would not do. Ifrit believed he could win. Kassandra placed her faith in him to return. To lose against this bloodthirsty invader was to fail them both. HE. NEEDED. MORE.

The hammer struck the anvil, its sound resonating within.

Hephaestus felt his eyes glow as his body shuddered, the first time he began using reinforcement on his divine body was a rather...painless experience. It was more pleasant actually.

The earth cooled as he absorbed the heat, the rock returning to a solid state, albeit brittle. Atlas was quick to heal and was slowly inching his legs to better position himself, all to attain victory.

"Finally," he croaked, his body shimmering as it healed completely.

"Yes," intoned Hephaestus as he released a breath, "finally."

Power erupted within an instant.

CRACK, SNAP!

Reinforcement, Mana Burst, and his own incredible strength. All three factors combined to focus all power on a single point, right at Atlas' neck. With a savage thrust forward, Hephaestus shattered Atlas' neck beneath his arm in a forward jerk. Divine flesh and bone alike broken.

For a brief moment, Atlas was limp, a moment used to grip the Titan's chin as Hephaestus rip his arm to the side, bringing Atlas' chin with it. The sound of cracking cartilage and bone, and the head of Atlas was twisted in a 180 degree twist, his glassy eyes staring up at him even as their torso remained unharmed. Atlas' arms hung uselessly by his side as Hephaestus gripped the Titan by their shattered throat, heaving him out of the hole with a simple btu strong shove. The body of Atlas flung through the air, dispersing the clouds as it landed with a dull flop, the silence deafening.

The God of Fire jumped out soon after, the strange steel-like calm washing away from him as the ground shuddered, the divine hold that had taken the island hostage now broken.

Hephaestus stared at his hands, shocked at the strength he had been able to exert. He had always assumed he was simply strong by the measure of the Gods. That the likes of Atlas and Zeus would physically surpass him in all parameters. After all, that was how Archer had always fought, using his skills and techniques to gain theadvantage over physically greater opponents.

Another moment passed before Atlas grunted, his broken head turning and healing. He spat out a glob of divine blood, a bloody grin spreading as he stood. Hephaestus scowled. The Titan of Endurance...there was no denying his incredible ability. With the endurance he housed, Atlas didn't need to worry about dispersing for a time. He'd simply heal from it, again and again, never-ending, always enduring.

It was why no one ever bothered fighting Atlas. Even Hera didn't truly bother. With all her immense strength she had simply thrown Atlas out of the fight, rather than fighting him head on. Killing him did little, as he'd simply get back up.

Hephaestus readied himself.

"So," grinned Atlas, "ready for another bout– URK!"

A bolt of pure white lightning struck Atlas dead in the face, blasting even Hephaestus off his feet. The bolt was not normal, mixed with the divinities of Hephaestus and Atlas mixed together. As the lord of fire fell to the ground, his back ached as if someone had dug their hand into...it...

"Styx," he whispered.

A quiet chuckle echoed in his ears. One that had dispersed as the black clouds did.

"STYX! HOW DARE YOU!? FACE ME YOU COWARDLY SOW!"

Ah, so that's what it was. He had wondered why Atlas didn't protect himself. He must have had some kind of deal with the Styx. Perhaps one that changed the definition ofwhat constituted a victory.

The earth shuddered as a figure shimmered out of the ground. He stood tall, his dark hair flowing down his chiseled face. He was far more imposing than Atlas, his frame similar in build to Hephaestus, but toned to represent balance, rather than strength.

"Pallas," spat Atlas.

"You called," he drawled, his arms crossed behind his back.

Atlas was straining against something, the veins in his neck bulging as he strained against it. Bits and pieces of his form splintered as it was forcibly ejected from the island.

"I…I can still fight! I didn't fall!"

Pallas raised an eyebrow.

"Till the last one standing. Were those not your words?"

Atlas stilled, his eyes glaring into slits. He turned to Hephaestus.

"...you cunning little bastard."

Snapping Atlas' neck was not about victory in death. Hephaestus had seen and heard enough rumors to get a feel that Atlas was quite possibly the toughest thing to put down in the entirety of the Greek Pantheon, even the primordial would stay down when finally put under. Yet…Atlas stood undeterred. The damn fucker would simply tank everything to the face and still get up. A fight would never end.

Yet...the conditions for victory was not a fight to the deat, not with Atlas' words. When he snapped Atlas' neck and threw him to the ground– for that split moment...Hephaestus was the last one standing. The God of Fire had won the wager.

Golden eyes swept on the gathered forces left in disarray. Monsters who had harmed the people in his territory. Wretched beasts who reveled in their nature instead of rising above it. Inexcusable.

The army howled a dirge around Atlas, their numbers shrinking in swift succession. Countless blades of various shapes and sizes began to pound, pierce, and slice them to golden dust as they tried piling through the forests in retreat. None made it even a stone's throw away from the battlefield.

The daughters of Atlas saw this, having been paralyzed earlier by the sheer ferocity of their father's battle with the God, andflinched as blades fell like rain around them. They were only unharmed because he had given his word. The one that had been struck by Atlas stared at him, ready to fight at a moments notice. He merely nodded, his divinity that once coiled around them dispersing. While the army of Atlas would fall, he would not bring that judgement to those that simply followed their fathers orders.

One by one, they too dispersed in retreat. They were disobeying yes, but not even the fear instilled in them by their father was enough to triumph over the mercy that this God provided. Last to disappear was the goddess who had examined him, her stone-grey gaze rapidly shifting. From one of the swords that had fallen nearby, a xiphos, to her defeated father on the shattered ground, and his golden gaze before she finally disappeared.

That was a humiliation that the Titan could no longer bear. His own children? His once normal skin began to darken a reddish hue, the blood rushing and coloring his face.

"This...I WON'T FORGET THIS!"

Atlas began to disperse, to the safety of his mountain far away, but not before a golden chain wrapped around his chest and gripped. Than another chain, and another, all appearing around him. Based on the designs of Enkindu, this was the thing Hephaestus needed from his workshop back at Poseidon's kingdom. The dispersed metal of what once was Hera's throne. He knew it would have a use one day, though it wasn't supposed to be revealed this early. Atlas blinked at the layers of chains, the feel of the metal shifting to strain every possible movement, feeling the pull of the oath stall...along with all his divinity. He fell again to the shattered ground, chained by a projection of Hephaestus making. Pallas turned to the young god, a silent question hanging in the air.

"I refuse to let Atlas run around and plot against me," said Hephaestus, "I'll be bringing him before Mount Olympus. Zeus will deal with him."

The Titan's pupils shrunk and veins popped around his temple in sheer abject fury.

"YOU HONORLESS CUR!"

He turned to Atlas, dismissing him. Ifrit, once a beacon in the sky, puffed into a more normal size…albeit more like an eagle than the falcon sized bird it once was. The sneer sent Atlas way…it made even Atlas cringe a bit.

"You speak of honor?" grunted Hephaestus, "says the Titan who invaded my home, slaughtered the first innocents he saw, threatened those that live here, and is attempting to wage a second war. No. You don't get to talk about honor."

Ifrit, for good measure, plop on Atlas head and…began pecking at him?

"GAH! GET OFF ME YOU INFERNAL!"

A few good plucks and Ifrit fluttered back onto Hephaestus' shoulder. Pallas nodded, caring little for Atlas' fate. Using Kronos' chains, Atlas was able to enforce certain interpretations that his darling wife had to follow in regards to oaths. The delusional bastard acted as if she had any choice in the matter. Well...that was all over though. Besides, Pallas was here for another reason.

"Shall we?"

Hephaestus turned to him, hoisting the ever-expanding vocabulary that was Atlas over his shoulder, Ifrit dispersing back into Hephaestus.

"I WILL REND YOUR MOTHER INTO MY WHORE YOU LITTLE BAS-HMMP!"

Pallas snapped his fingers, the divinity wrapping around Atlas head and rendering him mute.

"As I was saying, shall we?" muttered Pallas, a bored expression on his face…no…not bored. Tranquil.

"You'll bring me to Olympus?"

Pallas nodded.

"I am here already. Besides, I do have business with Zeus. It was after all one of his Olympians that freed my wife, not one of Hades'."

Pallas gripped Hephaestus with the shoulder and the two slowly moved through space. Hephaestus blinked at the show of light, watching as Pallas dispersed into a glow of pure energy….his core open. Before, like with Zeus, Hephaestus would have marveled at the sight. But Hestia had not just been a wealth of knowledge regarding the practical aspects of divinity, but also the social. The sight of a core was one that spoke of immense and deep trust…if Pallas was showing him this, then that meant something. While not instant, like with Hermes, the two were placed at the doors of Olympus. The gates slowly opening as Zeus walked through the

Pallas had reverted to a more delicate form, his figure more in line with the beauty of Olympus. He was far from thin or delicate, but there was no denying the way Pallas' hair framed his more delicate features. The rugged exterior gone and replaced with a more graceful one. Pallas ignored the unasked question and merely bowed. Hephaestus turned to the gates; the sight of this marbled structure still clashed against the cacophony of dimensions that coiled around it. Not to mention that the gates seemed very out of place in what Hephaestus would describe was a temple esque building.

Funny. He had once thought this would be someone else's problem to fix. Was it Karma that it was his problem now?

"Nephew!" declared Zeus, a strange smile on his face. The king of the Gods walked alone towards them, wearing a standard, albeit royal purple, toga. The beard was better trimmed, and his black hair curled more around his blue eyes, "you caught me just in time with dinner! Bravo!"

The almost fatherly tone, mixed with pride, had birthed a strange feeling in Hephaestus. It was slightly uncomfortable if he was being honest. Hephaestus silently hoisted Atlas and made to toss him at Zeus' feet. Instead, the very winds caught Atlas, bringing him into Mt. Olympus proper.

"Wait," thought Hephaestus.

"Bravo?" he uttered.

Zeus grinned, grasping his nephew at the shoulders with both hands, shaking him slightly.

"What a fight! I thought for sure Atlas had the victory, yet you stole it right out from under him! HA! That's my boy! Nicely done!"

Hephaestus turned, confused and slightly pissed.

"You…just watched?"

Zeus lost his smile slightly. For a moment, Hephaestus was certain he just fucked up. Yet, instead of the smell of ozone breaking above him, he was met with a more reserved tone.

"I apologize Nephew. Wis' island is one of the few places we Olympians gave full sovereignty to. Even if we wanted to…oaths bind us to remain away from her territory. Imagine my shock seeing you when Iris reported to us!"

Ah…that…made some sense? There were specifics that he wasn't aware of…and quite frankly cared little for. The events had already passed and Atlas was put into Olympus' care. Zeus turned to Pallas.

"I have to say, I certainly wasn't expecting you today Pallas. Would you like to join us?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm just here for pleasantries….lord Zeus."

Zeus blinked.

"….Of course. I'll be with you shortly, but dinner with my family takes priority. Come Nephew! You can sit at the head of our table!"

Hephaestus swallowed. Perhaps this was stupid…but there was no way in hell he was sitting in that place and having dinner. Not with Hera in that room. He had enough awkwardness and depression to last a lifetime. That…and he simply didn't want to. Forced socializing like that was far from the connections he wanted with people. He just fought a Titan damnit, leave him be.

"I really should get back to my home," stated Hephaestus, "the people need help rebuilding what has been lost. Already there are beasts near them that need to be dealt with. I do not mean to be rude but…they need me."

Zeus scowled, for a moment the tyrant in myth showed their ugly nature, his core expressing in full his distaste for refusal. Yet, there was a lighter nature admist the brewing storm, one that spoke of understanding.

"Very well," muttered Zeus, "but do not reject an invitation again Hephaestus. I do not stand for rudeness. I will see you tomorrow, here as a council as we convene on this matter. At dawn."

He bowed deeply, thanking whatever primordial that he had managed to escape this place for another day. He also bowed to Pallas.

"I'll be seeing you, Lord Pallas. Thank you for today."

Pallas merely nodded.

"For what you've done? This is nothing. Go, be with your people."

"They're not my-"

Space bent around Hephaestus, and he found himself at a shoreline, a familiar one. He turned, facing his home in the distance.

"people."

Hephaestus took a concerned look, staring up at Olympus.

"…Even Pallas knows where I live?" he muttered.

That was the plan, to help throw people off. But seriously? Even the underworld denizens knew. Grasping at his legs that were still in the water was the countless hands of many nymphs. They filtered energy into his weary body, the cool feeling of water washing over his body a pleasant feeling. It lacked any sort of healing properties, doing nothing to heal the wear and tear. But it felt good nonetheless.

He thanked and waved them off. He smiled, the sight of their relief…it made it all worth it. They dispersed back into the waters, blitzing around the island.

"Ifrit."

The great Pheonix shot from his chest, spinning through the air to flap and hover in front of him. His next words were laced with steel.

"Hunt them down."

Ifrit knew what he meant…and streaked through the island in a blitz to destroy every walking piece of Atlas' army. It would take time and he would normally join his friend…but he had greater concerns. Ones that he should have addressed some time ago. Walking back to the house. As he stepped back into the familiar area, he let an exhausted sigh leave him. The fight had taken a more mental toll than a physical one, but that didn't mean it wasn't difficult. But the real stress? It was the feeling of that familiar hand piercing his back, the faint whisper…and the spark. Out on the grassy front of his house, Hephaestus sat crossed legged. His arms rested on his knees as he closed his eyes. As a human, meditation was a practiced skill. Yet, for his mind he fell as easily into his reality marble as breathing.

He opened his eyes, feeling the grass…

Hepahestus' eyes snapped open, taking in the grass that now flittered across his reality marble. Where once was barren and cracked dirt, was now luscious grass. Not just grass, but trees other plant life too. The sky was still a dirty smog, the colossal gears spinning slowly in a featureless sky with a dimming horizon, but the grass and plant life was certainly new…and concerning. Hephaestus reached down, grasping at the land beneath his hands. He did everything he could, checking every piece of his reality marble. He had ignored it because he physically felt a little different. Usually alterations of any kind to a reality marble were reflected, in some fashion, to the body.

He had been careless…although the lack of care wasn't going to harm him it seemed. He breathed a sigh of relief. The spark was gone, not because it had integrated in some form with hepahestus divine core, but rather it had filtered into the world of his reality marble. To put it bluntly…he had leylines now. An absurdity, but one supported by the fact he saw…life. It was if this entire area had been placed over a leyline, one saturated in the natural power of the world. A quick hop, one launching him straight into his barren sky showed life across his once barren world. The swords were untouched, the reality marbles abilities were untouched, but now it housed a leyline and power all its own.

The spark of Gaia had effectively "completed" his world in a way that reflected true reality. There were benefits to be hand here…if he could figure it out.

"That solves one problem," he muttered.

He was still concerned about what this all meant, but for now he could be content with moving on. He was intent on figuring it all out, but there were other issues. Key one being the spark he had obtained from the ocean. The primal stone had integrated itself ina similar fashion to Gaia's spark. There were…technical differences between the two, degrees of separation in terms of how far it had deviated from the primordial powers that formed them. The spark of Gaia was as pure as one could get, whereas the one he had acquired from the ocean…not so much.

Primordial yes, but not as pure. He would have chalked it up to simply dissipating in his reality marble…if not for the massive river that flowed. It connected to the large colcanic landmass that had formed in his reality marble, the consequence of Archer merging with what had once been…well him. The volcano wasn't odd, but it had become a central aspect of his reality marble during the years he spent in Leto's protective dimension. A mere thought had Hephaestus at the base of his volcano. It was a large mountainous thing, beautiful even, but strange in the way the river pooled around the circumference of the mountain, creating a moat like a landmass. The water…it was beautiful. As if the stars themselves danced across the glittering surface, the water dark and pure. It was a familiar river.

After all, he had bathed in it…in the underworld. He placed his hand into the water, scowling as the skin peeled away from the waters. He pulled back, and as he did so look across the bank, eyeing the familiar face of the woman he had freed. She was currently clothed in a black toga, her silverish hair framing her stunning face. She gave a small smile, more of a smirk really, and waved while she wiggled the fingers of her left hand. He stared at her…in his reality marble. She gripped the earth beside her, her fingers digging into the surface. As she gouged deep into the earth…the familiar sensation of her fingers in his back echoed. It wasn't painful in any measure…but it was there. There was only one response he had to her.

"Shit."

-END-

BOOYA MOTHER FUCKERS. Got this chapter done even in the midst of my new job! Praise me, for even my lazy ass got this chapter done! Below are the list of stories that will be up for vote today, so please have a look! Please note that the stories do inflate the size of this chapter quite a bit (around 11,000 words for this one naturally), so I apologize for those that were looking forward to the bigger size.

Current Work Progress:

Fate/Clover: 831 Words

Supernatural Love: 5,400 words

Strawhat: 780 words

Kintsugi: 1,243 words

STORIES TO VOTE ON:

1. YUGIOH, OH SHIT! (A weirdly overdeveloped story)

· You know what's better than working? Nearly anything else. Two fresh 16-year-old friends win the biggest lottery ever! To make matters even more ridiculous, it was with the first ticket they've ever bought with the help of a relative! The luckiest sons of bitches split the lottery and decide that the most important thing to get with their half of the money is to get Meta decks for Yugioh. They also bought other things like a house, a car, an overwhelming powerful PC that could power NASA eight times over, but it wasn't as satisfying as the cards…imagine that. Unfortunately for these new millionaires, God flips them the bird and they get ran over by none other than truck-kun, or at least they think so, they're not entirely sure since everything went dark. They don't remember anything about how they got here, or even being in a car to begin with. Because instead of being dead, they instead woke up in Domino city, stranded and broke. Considering their ages, they were lucky to find a place to live. Left with little options, and quite literally no prospects, they decide to enroll in the one school that doesn't look at silly things like a paper trail….DUEL ACADEMY….ok but seriously why is no one concerned about that?

· GENRE: Comedy, Dual Mechanics, Highschool esque Drama.

· WARNINGS: READER PARTICIPATION! (SAY WAAAAHH?) readers are free to send decklists of varying levels of power for guest appearances for random students! We'll use those decklists for various duels. Modern Cards will be used (Effect and Fusion monsters guaranteed). The idea of using other mechanics such as XYZ and Synchro is not entirely out the window but is a problem. On the one hand, the use of the other summoning mechanics allows a sense of skill to be relevant. More "skilled" players are able to use multiple types of summoning mechanics in a single deck, while beginners may avoid them all together (as one example). On the other hand, it does limit the number of plays that we can do if we limit the amount of cards available, and the variety of deck strategies that can be brought to the story if we restrict to effect and fusion mechanics. So, we might as well just go all in, but feel free to offer your insights!

· Duo protagonists named Sam and Dean (place holder names, on a supernatural binge). Decks are NOT PREBUILT, save for a few key elements in the beginner decks at the beginning of the story. (I will be selecting Archytpes and opening packs those Archtypes belong into! So even if I pick something ridiculous, it will be luck of the draw to see if I can get all the cards needed. Any singles the deck needs will be earned VIA duel points or story progression. Who knows, might even open it up to you readers, about how those duel points are spent.

· Duels will be processed using a dual simulator (something like duel nexus), so that each duel has a true weight to them, and limits my desire for the protagonists to win on a frequent basis.

· Two arcs are fully planned, with the story being able to end at the second arc or be planned with further Arcs down the road depending on the progress of the story. ROMANCE IS NOT A FOCUS.

· Full Disclosure: This was an idea back when I was friggen young, watching Yugioh GX with my best buddy. Now, 28 years old and we're still talking about this as a joke XD. Thought it would be fun to spit ideas for this again a few months back, as we sometimes do. Only…well it went above and beyond what we expected, and we just kept tackling it XD. Just a dear old bit of nostalgic fun! The goal is for the story to not be "I'm a modern Yu-gi-oh player, look at my OP cards!". Each character in the story, such as Jaden, will have an updated deck that is centered on what mechanics we bring to the story. So, if we include ALL cards and mechanics, then Elemental Heros are about to get unreal. Other characters, like Syrus, may get updated decks that make use of their staples but change their decks substantially.

2. Digimon: Wildborne

· Being a part of the most prestigious academy in the world was no small feat. Each student comes from a variety of backgrounds from all over the world. A rare sort of school that teaches students from the age of 16 straight into a college and university esque education. Classroom sizes were small, teachers were competent, and most, if not, all students grew to be successful. It was why no one questioned the field trips that occurred every year, the strange tradition of camping in the woods. First year students and three adult supervisors were travelling the outskirts of the academy, a standard practice all things considered, a practiced tried and true route. A way for students to connect with the wilderness and build an appreciation for nature in the vast woods of the academy. But the wilds of the physical world were nothing to the digital. A single strange occurrence brought that entire field trip to the wilds of the digital world! Bereft of every technological advantage they had; they are left to fend for themselves in a place they barely recognize. While the school was off in the distance, everyone would agree that it wasn't supposed to be that run down…nor have a strange devil like man perching on the roof. Thankfully, they were not alone.

"My name is Gigimon, nice to meet you!"

The problem was that Gigimon was not the only beast within these woods. For the creatures they found were not all small and adorable like him but as monstrous and ridiculous as the human imagination could conjure. Survival was the priority. After that? Home.

· GENRE: Action, Adventure, Drama, Romance, light comedy. Dark elements are present.

· WARNINGS: Personal trauma, teenage drama, and mature concepts like power dynamics and morality will be present. A lot more obviously, but I won't spoil anything more.

3. The Elden Lord…is not me!

· A lighthearted jaunt through the Lands Between! Well…not really. A man that is not the Elden Lord finds himself wandering the lands, a Tarnished that was rather different than the others. He couldn't give less of a shit about the grace because he knew nothing about it. That bloody priest weirdo out the gates? Punched him in the face. The poor lizard girl that was being chased? Saved her with a smile. That strange Gideon weirdo? Avoided, thank you. He didn't know what he was here for, but it was most certainly not to shack up with some random Goddess lady, nor be a murder hobo throughout the lands killing her kids or relatives or whatever the fuck they were. He had better things to do, like find civilization…and sleep in a bed. Where the fuck was he? God, he needed to drink, or get laid. Either one would be preferrable to getting skewered…again. Also, the whole seeing traces of Gold everywhere he went was getting old, quick. Perhaps that castle would be best?

"I am Lord of all that is Golden!"

….aw EW! What the fuck is that! Seriously!?

· GENRE: Action, Adventure, Survival, Comedy.

· WARNINGS: This is not your typical Elden Ring playthrough. While they represent the main character, they are actively avoiding any responsibility by just doing their own thing…which ironically will let them get exactly where they don't want to go. Honestly, just a funny little idea I had that I spend waaaay too long ruminating on to a point where a plot developed XD.

4. Highschool DxD: Pheonix Reborn

· Usually, when one is isekaid, a truck is involved, you wake up with an OP broken ability, and you go about your way in a usually lighthearted adventure. At least, those are the stories I've come across. Yet, in the unlikely event that a one young Rizer Pheonix got deathly ill, the isekaid soul made a very different choice. The soul rejected this opportunity, ensuring the safe return of the devil child they should have possessed. Such an action brought forth a connection between Rizer and this unknown person for a short time, changing the young man forever. The echo of memories belonging to the soul that sacrificed itself for him lends Rizer a new perspective at the tender age of 8, one tempered by the reality of the Devils. So, he rises, and keeps rising, for life was too short to not make the most of it. He would burn the brightest and live however he pleased. For he…was Rizer Pheonix.

· GENRE: Action, Romance, Adventure.

· WARNINGS: Rizer is not a dick. That's it. One of two "Isekai is rejected" story ideas I had. It is basic in its premise, but the natural events of Canon will, as you guessed it, be fucked over. Everything about this character will be altered. Will not center on the Gremory or Rias, but it will revolve around canon so expect common occurrences as the series develops.

5. The Hippocratic Oath (Skyrim Fic)

· A young doctor finds himself stuck in the lands of Skyrim, having died in a car accident. He had spent the entirety of what few moments he had left, desperately wishing to save those around him. For the ability to heal. He got his wish, having found himself in the care of the temples and the devout, in a land called Skyrim. It was a beautiful and horrible place all in one, but it was one in which he could heal and cure with a wave of the hand. He learned a lot from the temple but had to go his separate ways. Too many rules and conditions, too much racism and preference for the rich. He sets out, intent on making whatever living he can for a life he didn't expect to have. He knew the road would be harsh, the journey difficult, but he knew in his heart of hearts that he would be an excellent doc… "is that a fucking dragon!? WHY DO I HEAR MUSIC!?"

Oh, he was also the dragonborn. How was a doctor, that swore to do no harm, meant to reconcile with the murder hobo lifestyle of the dragonborn? Hilariously, that was how. (Not much planned as of yet, just a whim really.)

6. Superman Evolution (Superman/X-men Evolution Fanfic)

· Clark Kent was your average everyday kid. Some would call him a bit depressing, but he was kind and helpful. Just didn't hang out much was all some might say. Except, he wasn't average at all, no matter how much he told himself that he wanted to be. He couldn't hug people, too afraid to crush them. He could race with the other kids, moving so fast that the air rippled. He couldn't even tussle with others…his body so resilient that you'd break your hand throwing a punch at him. He wasn't normal…and he hated it. His parents…they were great, he should be happy. He felt guilty that he wasn't happy, but instead he felt so alone. He tried his best, trying to figure out why it was that he was here…why it was that he was born with these gifts…why he was alone. There was a day, like any other, where he had just been walking down the road. Someone was in danger, someone that he had rescued without them even knowing. A mother and her son, just driving through. He thought that would be the end of it…until a man in a wheelchair came knocking on their door. Apparently, Gabriella Haller was the one person in the world that changed Clark's life forever. Welcome to the X-Men. (The idea is to use the setting and materials from both worlds. The "X-Men" are not really sent on missions so much as they are trained to use their powers to retain better control. Charles doesn't send them on missions, but instead they function more as a mutant rescue op. Magneto is called out on his racist bullshit. He has points, not going to lie. Humans are assholes and some need to be put into the dirt. However, the fact that more characters do not call the Nazi Survivor out for shit like "Homo-Superior" and that mutants are the "Master Race". Come on, the trauma alone is just ripe for exploring. Action, Adventure, and Character exploration galore. Not really a dark and dreary story, for those that like their stories like that).

7. A Fool's Journey (RWBY/Persona)

· The power of the fool was limitless, an open canvas of the mind for the Wild Card to develop as they please. For many, it was the power, the journey from fool to spiritual actualization, the realization of the self. It was said that a person was at their strongest when they knew themselves fully. It was nothing short of an exemplary exploration of a boy becoming man amidst the struggles we call life. It was too bad such a power existed within the blind fool known as Jaune. A power born from the Goddess of will, Jaune awakens to the power of the fool and finds strength in the bonds he forges with others. The journey of a fool, into a man. The journey of a dream into reality. The question however…was which dream would be pursued?

· (This story will focus on characters with ample action. Jaune's "Personas" will instead take the form of weapons and semblance like powers, rather than astral beings he can call upon. Each of the confidant weapons will crack open a piece of Jaune's self and his perspective, showing the journey of a boy into a man. Not gonna spoil everything but this god damn idea would not LEAVE ME BE! Have as much fun or hate for the idea as you would like. Jaune's powers will be a bit like Noctis from final fantasy, in the respect that each confidant creates a weapon/power set that he can call upon. Each with their strength and weaknesses). Pairings as always, Jaune/Pyrrha…or Jaune/Yang? BOTH!? NEITHER! WHAT IS HAPPENING! EGADS!? THE BLASPHEMY!?

8. Overlord…Kind of

In the game he was a god! The master of life and death. Surrounded by friends, he helped build a guild that was more like family than mere friendship. But…even the likes of Nezerick must face an end. Abandoned bit by bit by the people he loved, one Sazuki Satoru finds himself alone on the final night of the Yggdrasil servers. He knew he was being petty, that it wasn't fair to judge his friends for having lives outside of the game…but this place was everything. For the long years this game ran…it was everything. So as he watched the last of those seconds tick…all he could really wish for was it to never end.

And it didn't. An agony unlike any other ripped through the overlord himself as the tomb of Nazerick woke up. For on the day the NPC's awoke to reality, one Sazuki Satoru remained, his weak human body unconscious in the throne of the guild leader. Ainz Ool Gown was nowhere to be seen…for only the human Sazuki Satoru had come to this world…surrounded by the NPCs of his greatest friends. Friends that had all roleplayed villainous characters.

He'd be fine…

Right?

Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure.

9. Praise The Sun (title pending).

Everything is the same. Rakuro Hizutome is still a gaming nut and is still amazed by the incredible game that is Shagri-La Frontier! It's just…well the games he was obsessed with was not the uber trash games but instead the V.R Soulsborne games that were remastered. The world of Shangri-La Frontier isn't ready for Hizutome, especially since he researched every nook and cranny for any piece of lore, exploiting every mechanic there is to exploit, and just exploring every single pixel there is to walk. Just like any good souls player.

"MEAT CHECK!"

"Wait wha-GRK!"

"Praise the Sun!"

Genre: Comedy, Lit-RPG (gonna try my best), and adventure.