Justice League — Hall of Justice
In the Hall of Justice, J'onn J'onzz stood before the central monitoring array as the League coordinated their response to the escalating global instabilities. His eyes scanned multiple feeds simultaneously—satellite imagery of ocean patterns, naval deployments, intelligence reports from coastal cities.
His attention kept returning to one particular feed, the Hawaiian Islands.
"Something's bothering you." Dinah's voice came from behind him. She approached the console, concern evident in her expression.
J'onn gestured toward the display. "These towers ARGUS and LexCorp have constructed across the Hawaiian archipelago. Officially, they're defensive shields against another attack."
"But you don't believe that's their only purpose." Dinah pulled up the same intelligence reports, already knowing the answer.
"The mechanism concerns me most," J'onn said, pulling up their satellite analysis. "Our sources indicate these towers use phase-shift technology—something STAR Labs has only tested in controlled environments. Yet LexCorp deployed a complete grid across the entire archipelago in under four days."
He highlighted the energy readings. "This timeline is impossible unless they'd been preparing this long before the attack. And these signatures from the grid are far beyond anything we've ever seen."
Dinah studied the towers, her jaw tightening. "Lex Luthor doesn't do anything out of altruism. If he's involved, there's always another angle."
"Agreed." J'onn expanded the display to show supply chain data. "I've been monitoring LexCorp's material shipments. The towers are constructed from an alloy we've never encountered before—something entirely new."
Dinah's frown deepened. "Should we investigate directly? Hawaii is U.S. territory, but if Luthor's building something dangerous—"
"We need to be careful," J'onn interrupted, his tone measured. "ARGUS has designated it a Special Defense Zone. Any League presence might be interpreted as interference with national security operations. We'd be playing into our enemy's hands."
He minimized the Hawaiian feed but kept the monitoring subroutine active. "For now, I'll maintain surveillance. If those towers activate with any anomalous readings, we'll know immediately."
"In the meantime," Dinah said, already turning toward the tactical displays, "I'll coordinate with the others on Orm. Whatever Luthor's planning will have to wait until we've dealt with the immediate threat."
J'onn nodded, filing the observation away. But his eyes remained on the Hawaiian display even as he returned to monitoring the other feeds.
Olympus
Hera sat upon her throne, eyes closed, channeling her magic to pierce the veil of the future. No matter how much power she poured into the divination, the threads of fate remained obscured.
Pufft
A mouthful of ichor burst from her lips, golden blood trickling down her chin. Her breathing grew labored as she hunched forward, head bowed.
"Hera, you must stop." A calm voice echoed through the throne room as darkness crept across the marble floor. Hades materialized from the shadows, his presence chilling the air. "You'll damage your divine core if you continue this reckless endeavor."
Hera straightened slowly, drawing upon Olympus's divine essence to mend herself. Her calm yet cold eyes fixed on the newcomer. "Hades. What brings the mighty ruler of the Underworld to my throne room?"
Hades sighed deeply. "I am not your enemy, Hera."
"You could have fooled me," Hera said, leaning back but remaining alert. "Your actions suggest otherwise. If you have nothing to hide, why conceal your true appearance behind an illusion?"
Hades's expression remained impassive. He had hoped the illusion would hold, though he'd known it was unlikely against someone of Hera's perceptiveness. His eyes glowed as darkness swirled around him, forming a sphere that suddenly burst apart. Where the aged god had stood now appeared a younger, more vital Hades.
Hera's eyes narrowed. "So my senses were correct. You've ascended."
"Before you draw conclusions, please hear me out," Hades said, meeting her gaze steadily. "After all the support I've given you over the years, I believe I've earned at least that much trust."
Hera took a measured breath and nodded. "Very well. Explain."
"The Underworld has changed," Hades began. "You must have sensed it too—this mortal realm is no longer what it was. Orach's influence has strengthened both the world and its mortals. Initially, I thought little of it and continued my duties. But then..." His expression darkened. "I felt a disturbance in the Underworld realms. At first, I couldn't identify its nature, so I reinforced our barriers as a precaution. Then came the breach."
"Someone breached our Underworld?" Hera's troubled expression deepened. "Who would dare?"
"Someone unexpected," Hades replied grimly. "Ereshkigal, Queen of Irkalla."
Flashback—Shortly After the Taiwan Incident
A rift tore through the fabric of Tartarus. Through it stepped a woman with hauntingly beautiful features, her shroud billowing behind her like crow's wings. Two shadows slipped through the closing rift, melting into the background.
"What a wretched arrangement," the woman muttered, surveying the realm with distaste.
WOOF WOOF WOOF
Cerberus sensed the intruder immediately. The three-headed guardian beast lunged forward, landing before her with each massive head rising menacingly, growling.
The woman barely glanced at the creature before continuing her stride. As Cerberus pounced, she raised one hand behind her without breaking pace. Seven rings of obsidian light erupted from her palm, slamming into the beast and pinning it to the ground. The dog whimpered as its three heads struck stone, an immense weight pressing down on its spine.
"Much better," she hissed.
"HOW DARE YOU?"
A bolt of dark energy struck the ground between the woman and Cerberus. Hades descended, his bident crackling with violet power, his voice carrying killing intent. Persephone materialized beside him in a swirl of seeds and wilted roses, her eyes filled with anguish at seeing their beloved guardian injured. She rushed to Cerberus's side, channeling her power to lift the beast.
The woman turned slowly. "Is this how you welcome a guest, upstart?"
Hades's eyes narrowed as recognition dawned. "You... You're Ereshkigal?"
"So you do recognize me," the woman—Ereshkigal, Queen of Irkalla—said with a smirk.
"You've changed," Hades observed, noting the transformation from the figure he remembered. He pushed aside those thoughts, focusing on the threat. "You've violated my realm's sovereignty and injured my guardian. State your purpose, or face the consequences."
"I don't care who you are or why you invaded our domain," Persephone said furiously, her maternal instincts flaring. "Why did you attack Cerberus so severely?"
Ereshkigal clicked her tongue dismissively. "You youngsters truly lack proper etiquette." She met Hades's gaze with cold calculation. "Control your wife, upstart. I am sovereign of my own realm. She is merely your consort."
"You—" Persephone bristled at the disrespect.
"I'll ask one final time," Hades cut in, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Why are you here, Ereshkigal?"
"Simple." Her smile vanished as she summoned her staff. "To test you."
Hades moved simultaneously, bident in hand.
CLANG
The clash sent shockwaves that toppled nearby stone pillars.
"Do you truly wish to pursue this course?" Hades asked gravely. "This is my domain."
"Focus on the fight rather than asking pointless questions, upstart," Ereshkigal replied, exerting more power. She parried his strike, pivoted behind him, and used his own momentum to deliver a devastating kick that sent him crashing into a wall.
"HUSBAND!" Persephone cried out. She wanted to intervene but knew Cerberus needed her healing. "Be careful, beloved," she whispered, pouring more power into stabilizing the beast.
The battle between the two divine rulers intensified. Hades fought with refined precision and cold calculation, but Ereshkigal met him with raw, overwhelming power. After several exchanges, Hades noticed something disturbing—each of her strikes felt progressively heavier.
'How is she matching me blow for blow?' he thought, gritting his teeth as he evaded another attack.
They reached a stalemate, weapons locked in a shimmering collision of divine energies. The ground beneath them began to liquefy from the pressure.
"How?" Hades demanded, meeting her gaze through the crackling energy. "How have you become this powerful?"
Ereshkigal smiled coldly. "When justice is on your side, strength follows."
"What—"
Movement caught his eye. Persephone had materialized behind Ereshkigal, hands glowing with the life-draining power of deep earth, aiming for an exposed flank.
But Ereshkigal didn't flinch. Her smirk widened, her eyes flashing with cruelty as she anticipated the attack.
Horror flooded Hades's features.
With a flick of her wrist, Ereshkigal redirected Hades's bident, using his own force to pivot. She struck backward with compressed shadow, deflecting Persephone's attack and slamming her palm into the Goddess of Spring's chest.
Persephone screamed as the "Rot of Irkalla" seared through her, gray necrotic veins spreading across her skin. She flew backward, crashing into jagged rocks.
"Persephone!" Hades roared, abandoning his defense to rush to his wife's side. He gathered her trembling form in his arms, staring in horror at the spreading corruption.
Ereshkigal didn't press her advantage. She observed them with cold, unfeeling eyes, her gaze drifting briefly toward the distant spires of Hades's palace. Turning back to the grieving god, her smirk widened.
"You've grown soft in times of peace, young one," she said, her form beginning to dissolve into gray dust. "Cherish what you still have. I hope you prove more challenging when next we meet. This was merely... a preview of what's coming."
Hours later, in their private chambers, Persephone sat on black silk sheets. The gray veins were fading as she channeled Earth's restorative power, but her hands still trembled. Hades knelt beside her, his face twisted with concern and barely contained rage.
"Husband, why would she do this?" Persephone whispered. "No one has been this bold in centuries. And that power... it felt wrong. It felt beyond God King."
"Your senses don't deceive you, beloved," Hades said grimly, his grip tightening on his bident. "She has ascended to the Ascendent Realm."
"But why come here just to humiliate us?" Persephone asked.
Hades shook his head. "I don't know, but it felt like a test. She had every advantage and could have pressed the attack, yet she withdrew."
The chamber doors creaked open. A skeletal steward bowed low, his voice rattling with fear. "Lord Hades... My Lady... something has happened."
The couple exchanged a glance before responding in unison. "What?"
The steward hesitated, then spoke. "The vaults, my lords. The Helm of Shadows has been stolen. The attack occurred during your battle. The guardians were destroyed by intruders wielding a powerful divine weapon of the sea."
Hades and Persephone's expressions turned grave.
"She was the distraction," Persephone realized, turning to her husband. "She didn't come alone. While we fought, her accomplices infiltrated the vaults. But why the Helm? What could she want with it?"
Hades stood, his presence suddenly cold enough to freeze the air. "That artifact can wreak devastating harm in the mortal world. She's working with someone—and if they used a sea-based divine weapon, I know who it must be."
"You should inform Olympus," Persephone suggested. "Perhaps Diana could help."
After a moment's consideration, Hades nodded. "You're right. But first..." His gaze traveled to the windows overlooking his realm. "There's something I must do."
End of Flashback
"After that violation of my realm, I felt something I hadn't experienced in millennia—desperation," Hades said, his voice heavy with regret. "Not for myself, but for my domain and my wife. I, who had always maintained the detached dignity of a judge, who prided myself on treating every soul with impartial justice..." He paused, a rueful smile crossing his face. "In that moment of weakness, I abandoned my principles."
He met Hera's gaze steadily. "I consumed souls—those rich with divine essence. Ereshkigal's attack showed me how vulnerable we'd become. When she reached the Ascendent Realm, she could walk into my domain and humiliate us without consequence. After the first soul, I felt the power coursing through me, confirming what I'd suspected. It was terrible, yes, but it was effective."
"I continued until I reached the Late Ascendent Realm. I became what you see now—powerful enough to defend what matters, but at a cost I'll carry forever."
Hera absorbed his confession in silence. Both Nyx and Hades had been the first to support her against Zeus when she needed allies most. She knew Hades valued power, but she also knew he wouldn't have crossed this line without dire cause. Her fingers tightened on her throne's armrest, but her expression remained neutral.
"You must think me as despicable as my late brother," Hades said quietly.
Hera's expression flickered with complexity before she sighed and shook her head. "No, Hades. You are a ruler. Your responsibility is to your realm, your people, and your family. You did what any responsible sovereign would do. I'm not certain I could have made a different choice." She paused, her voice softening. "Despite your flaws, I've always admired you as a ruler. And if I'm being honest, I've envied the love you share with Persephone. While your methods were extreme, given the threats we face and what you've revealed, I believe we must all grow stronger—much stronger."
Hades's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Your intuition tells you something is approaching, doesn't it? That's why you tried to scry the future despite the cost."
Hera leaned back in her throne and nodded. "Yes. I don't believe a mere mortal could have orchestrated the attack that struck the mortal realm. My suspicions have only deepened after hearing your account. Beyond that, I'm sensing corruption spreading through the ley lines in the Eastern lands. I can't probe its source or nature from here, but..." She paused. "We're in lockdown, and revealing our increased strength prematurely would trigger the very thing I'm trying to prevent."
"A divine war," Hades finished grimly.
"Exactly." Hera's expression darkened. "All this uncertainty weighs on me." For a brief moment, Zeus's face flashed in her mind, and her teeth clenched. "The seeds of hatred Zeus planted will bring catastrophe if war erupts—whether with the Norse, Egyptian, or Shinto pantheons. Especially the Shinto." She recalled the bitter enmity between Zeus and Amaterasu. "Even in death, that bastard continues to cause problems."
Her rage flared, divine power radiating through the throne room.
Hades's eyes widened as he sensed the true depth of her power.
'Middle Ascendent Realm,' he realized with shock. He'd known that exposure to Orach's echo—that pure, wild God Ki—had enriched all who survived, especially those healed or revived by it. He knew the Olympians had undergone transformation while adhering to Diana's directive as the future Mistress of the House of Gula and wife of Orach, the Higher Realm being. But he hadn't expected this magnitude of growth.
Hera took a deep breath, reining in her aura. Meeting Hades's gaze with regal authority, she spoke with finality. "Hades, as Queen of the Olympian gods, I command you to set aside your guilt and continue growing stronger. I promise that once we survive what's coming, I will help absolve you of this burden in whatever way possible. You, my son, and Diana will be the spearhead that destroys our enemies should war come."
Hades stood silent for a moment, then bowed his head in acknowledgment. "As you command, Queen Hera."
Next Day - Middle of the Night - Eastern China Sea
While humanity recovered from the catastrophic attack, deep beneath the purified waters of the Eastern China Sea lay a hidden domain. At its heart stood the Crystal Palace of Dragon King Ao Guang, built upon the nexus of the Abyssal Meridian—the living heart of the dragon veins that sustained the spiritual vitality of the entire Eastern Continent.
During the recent attack, corrupted waters had breached the domain's defenses, killing many of Ao Guang's subordinates and seeping into the palace itself. The Dragon King, roused from his slumber by the violation, had retaliated with the full might of the ley line. His devastating counterattack preserved the palace's innermost sanctum, but when he emerged to survey the damage, his rage knew no bounds. Among the wreckage, he discovered survivors from Orm's sunken vessel and extracted the information he needed. Though his first instinct was to assault Atlantis directly, the sheer scale and power of the attack gave him pause. Instead, he appealed to the Celestial Court for action.
Now, days later, Ao Guang had returned from the divine realm and completed repairs to his domain. Exhausted, with no outlet for his simmering anger, he retreated to the innermost chamber where his greatest treasures resided alongside the direct access point to the dragon veins. Taking his true dragon form, he coiled protectively around the capstone and closed his eyes to rest.
As the massive ornate doors sealed shut and the Dragon King drifted into sleep, a silent vessel emerged from the abyssal depths outside his domain. Five figures slipped into the water, moving with practiced efficiency toward the palace. The recent attack had decimated the guard force—most lay dead, their posts abandoned. The elite team dispatched the few remaining sentries with ruthless precision.
They advanced through the corridors until they reached the innermost chamber. The leader signaled to one of his men, who produced a secured box. Without hesitation, the leader withdrew the Helm of Darkness and placed it upon his head.
The moment the artifact settled over his features, reality shifted. His body seemed to simultaneously exist and dissolve, merging with the surrounding shadows. His team felt an overwhelming dread—the sensation of death's cold touch. Despite their training, they trembled until their leader reined in the helm's power.
The leader unwrapped the weapon strapped to his back—a dark blue trident whose surface pulsed with barely contained power. He turned to face the massive sealed door and stepped forward into the shadows. Reality drained of color until the world became a landscape of grays and silhouettes. The impenetrable door appeared as nothing more than a thin curtain of smoke. He walked through effortlessly.
Inside, he released the shadow-walk. The chamber was vast—a metaphysical pocket containing mountains of gold, luminous pearls, and artifacts of immeasurable power. At the center, coiled around a carved capstone, was Ao Guang in his true form. The dragon's iridescent scales shimmered like liquid jade, his breathing slow and rhythmic. Clutched in one massive claw was the Dragon Pearl—a sphere of swirling golden radiance.
The leader tightened his grip on the trident. "Old serpent," he murmured, "become the foundation of my ascension."
He released his restraint on the Helm of Darkness. With each step forward, the temperature plummeted. The air grew heavy with the oppressive weight of death.
Ao Guang's eyes snapped open. His massive head swiveled toward the intruder. "Who dares violate my domain? Speak your name before you die."
The intruder raised his trident, its engravings igniting with eldritch light. "Dragon King Ao Guang—I am Orm of Atlantis. I challenge you to mortal combat. Today, you meet your end."
Recognition flickered across the Dragon King's features. "So the coward who poisoned my waters comes to finish what he started." His form began to shimmer with golden radiance as he drew upon the Abyssal Meridian. "You attack my domain, corrupt the sacred veins of the East, and now stand before me?"
"I dare far more than that," Orm replied. "I have come to claim absolute dominion over all the world's waters."
"Insolent fool!" Ao Guang drew deeply from the ley line, transforming the air into crushing weight—divine pressure designed to force all before him to their knees.
Orm thrust the trident forward. Divine energy erupted from it, meeting Ao Guang's pressure head-on. The two forces collided in violent stalemate.
"Your tricks are meaningless, old serpent. I am no ordinary mortal. I have come prepared to slay a god."
Ao Guang's eyes widened. "That weapon... the divine essence within it... That's Poseidon's power!"
"Perceptive. But knowing won't save you."
The Dragon King's fury exploded. The entire palace trembled as the Abyssal Meridian responded to its guardian's rage. "You will regret this intrusion!"
Ao Guang unleashed a pressure beam—a concentrated torrent of water moving with mountain-pulverizing force.
Orm launched into the air. The beam pursued him relentlessly, its residual pressure cracking his armor. He weaved through the chamber, using treasure piles as cover, but the beam obliterated everything it touched. Finally, he stopped his evasion and raised the trident high, its runes flaring with dark radiance.
The pressure beam's trajectory bent. The divine energy was drawn toward the trident. Orm braced himself as the beam struck the three prongs. Instead of overwhelming him, the energy spiraled inward—absorbed into the weapon. The trident's dark blue metal shifted to pulsing indigo.
"Impossible!" Ao Guang cut off his attack. "What is that trident?"
"Your own power strengthens me. Every attack you launch feeds my ascension. This is the might of a Poseidon far beyond the one you knew—a Poseidon of a dead universe, whose power I now wield."
Ao Guang's expression shifted to horrified understanding. The trident was designed to consume divine essence. Raw power would only hasten his defeat.
The Dragon King's form shimmered and split. Dozens of water constructs materialized throughout the chamber, each carrying a fragment of his power. They attacked from every angle—a tactical assault designed to overwhelm through numbers.
Orm found himself surrounded by pressure beams, clawed constructs, and serpentine tails generating devastating shockwaves. He parried, evaded, and struck back—shattering constructs in bursts of dark energy. But more kept coming.
Meanwhile, Ao Guang's true body coiled tighter around the capstone, drawing even more deeply from the ley line. His scales began to glow—green-tinted lightning dancing across his form. He wasn't manipulating water now, but channeling the raw elemental fury of the storm itself.
With a roar, he released a massive sphere of lightning.
Orm obliterated the constructs around him and took his stand, grasping the trident with both hands. He channeled his own life force into the weapon.
The trident's engravings erupted with blinding radiance—dark necrotic energy fused with divine power. Orm partially unsealed the bindings that stabilized the weapon. It vibrated in his hands—hungry, alive. He planted his feet and thrust forward, the three prongs creating a swirling vortex of darkness.
The lightning sphere struck with apocalyptic force. The chamber exploded with light and sound. Stone cracked. Treasures vaporized. Orm's arms trembled, his muscles tearing and reknitting as his physiology struggled with the forces flowing through him. But the lightning began to spiral—drawn into the trident's void-core.
Ao Guang watched in horror as his attack was consumed. The lightning compressed and vanished into the obsidian-dark metal. The trident glowed with sickly violet light.
"That weapon—it devours divinity itself!"
Orm's armor was cracked, his hands blistered and bleeding. But through gritted teeth, he snarled, "Every ounce of your power becomes mine. Nothing can stop your downfall."
The realization struck Ao Guang like a physical blow. Direct confrontation would only feed the god-killer weapon. He needed to deny Orm his prize entirely.
His eyes fell upon the Dragon Pearl clutched in his claw. If he consumed it and merged his essence completely with the Abyssal Meridian, his power would diffuse throughout the entire network—forever beyond Orm's reach. It would mean his death as an individual, but it would also mean Orm's failure.
Ao Guang's maw opened as he brought the Pearl toward his jaws.
"No!" Orm launched himself forward with explosive speed, wreathed in shadows.
Ao Guang's jaws were closing around the Pearl when Orm's trident pierced through his lower jaw, driving upward. The three prongs stopped the Pearl inches from his throat, trapping it between the tines. Divine blood sprayed across the chamber.
"You will not escape me," Orm hissed, twisting the trident. "Your power, your Pearl, your essence—all of it belongs to me now."
Ao Guang thrashed violently. His claws raked across Orm's body, tearing through armor and rending flesh. But Orm held on, his other hand reaching into the Dragon King's mouth to grip the Pearl.
The void-eater property of the trident activated fully. Dark tendrils spread from the weapon, drinking divine essence in ravenous gulps. The Dragon King's iridescent scales began to dull and crack. His celestial light flickered.
"Please... no... The Celestial Court will not forgive this... They will come for you..."
"Let them come. By the time they act, I will have ascended beyond their reach."
With a final pull, Orm tore the Dragon Pearl free. The golden orb pulsed with captured divinity. The moment it left his possession, the Dragon King's form began to dissolve.
"No... my waters... my domain..."
Ao Guang's voice faded as his massive body crumbled into golden ash.
Silence fell. Orm stood alone, holding the Dragon Pearl in one hand and the trident in the other. His armor was shredded, his body covered in grievous wounds. But his eyes burned with triumph.
"Now comes my ascension."
Orm strode to the capstone—the physical gateway to the Abyssal Meridian. He raised the trident high and drove its base into the stone. The capstone shattered. A geyser of golden-blue qi erupted upward, filling the chamber with blinding light.
Orm crushed the Dragon Pearl against the trident's center prong.
The reaction was cataclysmic. Golden divine qi and blue-black necrotic power collided violently, using Orm's body as their battleground. The forces rewrote him at the molecular level. He screamed as his physiology was torn apart cell by cell, then rebuilt in an endless cycle of death and rebirth.
The chamber buckled. Stone cracked. Ancient treasures melted or exploded. The entire pocket dimension groaned under the weight of the transformation.
Orm's skin turned pale with an iridescent quality. His eyes blazed with golden light holding abyssal depths. His hair bleached white, then shifted to blue-black. When he screamed again, his voice carried the resonance of crushing ocean depths.
Power flooded through him—not just one Dragon King's strength, but access to the entire network of dragon veins. He could feel every river, lake, and ocean current connected to the Eastern Continent. They answered to him now.
But the transformation demanded a price. The weapon's essence carved a void within Orm's soul—a bottomless hunger that would never be satisfied, a thirst that could never be quenched.
Orm collapsed to his knees, gasping. When he looked up, his expression had changed. It was the gaze of something that had transcended mortality but lost something essential—something human.
He rose unsteadily, testing his new form. The wounds covering his body healed rapidly as water obeyed his commands. Blue-green scales appeared over portions of his skin. His fingernails grew into claws. His hair lengthened. He clenched his fist, and moisture in the air compressed into a perfect sphere that dispersed at his thought.
"Gone is Prince Orm of Atlantis," he declared, his voice carrying otherworldly harmonics. "Today, I rise as the new sovereign of the Eastern waters. I am the Dragon King's successor. I am the Ocean Master."
Through his connection to the ley lines, his words reverberated throughout the Eastern waters. Every creature dwelling within them felt the declaration in their bones and involuntarily bowed—some in reverence, others in terror.
Moments later, Orm emerged from the inner chamber. His elite team rushed forward with weapons drawn, then stopped at the sight—the transformed Orm radiating divine power that made their instincts scream.
Murk, his second-in-command, dropped to one knee. "My king, we congratulate you on your ascension!"
"Stop." Orm raised a hand. "From this day forward, you will not call me king. You will call me Ocean Master."
Understanding dawned. "Yes, Your Majesty. Ocean Master."
"Gather what treasures remain intact. Load them onto the vessel. We return to consolidate everything we've gained. The Celestial Court will eventually learn of Ao Guang's death, but by then, it will be too late."
"And after that?"
Orm's smile widened, revealing slightly-too-sharp teeth. "We subjugate the remaining ocean kingdoms. We bring the surface world to its knees. When I am done, every drop of water on this planet will answer to me alone."
As his team scrambled to obey, Orm stood before the shattered capstone. He could feel the ley line calling to him, recognizing him as its new master even as its power bled into the surrounding waters.
'Ao Guang understood the threat too late,' Orm thought. 'Soon, all who stand against me will learn that same bitter truth.'
He turned away, his transformed body already adapting. Each step left faint frost impressions—a side effect of the necrotic essence now woven through his being.
Outside, the Eastern China Sea had been fundamentally altered. Where once it had been a domain of divine protection, it was now something colder, emptier—utterly submissive to Orm's will.
As his team secured the plunder, Orm cast a final glance at the palace that had stood for millennia.
"The Age of the Ocean Master begins now."
He boarded the stealth vessel. Behind him lay only ash—the remains of a dead god, the shattered remnants of an ancient order, and the ghost of who he used to be. They were merely the first casualties in a war that would soon consume the world.
Mount Meru—Divine Domain of the Hindu Pantheon. Beyond its highest peak lies the threshold to the Sphere of the Gods, where the True Trimurti of this lower realm reside.
The silence of eternity shattered.
In this realm suffused with the breath of creation itself, a disturbance rippled through the cosmic fabric—a violent disturbance originating from one of the many universes within the lower realm. In a single devastating instant, millions of mortal souls were severed from their life-threads, swept away by the corruption mortals called the "Great Tide."
Vishnu, the Preserver, rose from his meditation. Before him, the cosmic mandala mapping reality's flow flickered and pulsed, its golden patterns fraying where corruption touched.
"The design is under threat," he said, his voice carrying the weight of ages.
The words resonated through the divine realm. A figure materialized from luminous mist—skin like polished ivory, four faces turning in unison, robes woven from starlight itself. Twin galaxies swirled within Brahma's ancient eyes.
"You sense it as well, Preserver?" Brahma asked, concern rippling across all four faces.
"I do, Architect." Vishnu gestured, and images formed between them—coastlines drowning beneath unnatural waters, the very essence of land bleeding away. "This corruption—the 'Great Tide'—has claimed countless lives. But what we witness transcends mere death."
"A mortal harvesting souls," Brahma said, his expression darkening. "And corrupting the ley lines in the process."
Vishnu nodded gravely. "The sea-prince of this universe wields a weapon that devours souls and spreads corruption across the land. He has recently slain and consumed the essence of this world's Dragon King, Ao Guang. Now what he seeks is bound to corrupt the foundation of entire continents. Earth's ley lines are being poisoned by frequencies alien to this realm."
Brahma studied the fraying patterns of reality, his many eyes narrowing. "Beneath this immediate threat lies something far more troubling. That primordial essence within the weapon..." He paused, his voices dropping to near-whispers. "I believe it originates from one of the prisoners sealed in the Abyss."
"You think they're attempting escape through this mortal?" Understanding dawned in Vishnu's tone.
"It would explain the insatiable hunger," Brahma confirmed. "Should even one of those ancient beings breach their containment, the devastation would eclipse anything we're witnessing now."
Vishnu's gaze returned to the cosmic mandala, where a dark void obscured portions of the pattern. "And there's another complication—the presence from the Higher Realms."
"The anomaly." Brahma's understanding was immediate. "Since his arrival, the Akashic Records have gone dark wherever he treads. We cannot see what follows in his wake. He is a blind spot in fate itself."
"A variable beyond our calculation," Vishnu agreed. "While we remain blind to his purpose, the mortal realm unfolds on a board we can no longer fully perceive."
Contemplative silence stretched between them. Direct intervention risked destabilizing a reality already strained to its limits. Yet inaction would doom the faithful who called upon them.
"Should we consult the Destroyer?" Brahma asked, hesitation evident in his tone.
Vishnu closed his eyes, weighing the question. When they opened again, they held a thoughtful gleam. "Don't you find it peculiar? Despite everything that's transpired, he remains still. The Tandava has not begun."
Realization spread across Brahma's four faces. "You're right. An anomaly alone should be sufficient cause. Add this abyssal corruption spreading across the mortal world, and either would justify his true form's manifestation and the dance of destruction."
"Yet he waits," Vishnu said softly. "Perhaps he perceives something we cannot. Or perhaps the appointed moment has not yet arrived."
"Then what do you propose?"
Vishnu turned back to the cosmic mandala, resolution hardening his features. "We need not manifest our true forms—not yet. This universe's fate hangs in flux. With so many powers converging, we must be certain before committing our full essence."
"Avatars then?" Brahma suggested.
"Perhaps. But we have another path." Vishnu gestured, and the mandala shifted to reveal the Indian subcontinent, its sacred rivers glowing like veins of celestial light. "We can work through the children of the mortal realm themselves. The anomaly's presence has enriched this universe's Earth. Those touched by his power grow stronger with each passing day. A new generation of champions is rising."
"Champions," Brahma echoed, wisdom dawning in his expression. "Mortals who can act where we cannot. Who can see what remains hidden from our gaze."
"Precisely. The Subcontinent must be protected across all universes—its sacred rivers and ancient ley lines anchor the spiritual foundation of billions. We need three champions, each bearing a fragment of our divine authority. They will serve as our eyes in the darkness, our hands where we cannot reach."
All four of Brahma's faces smiled in unison. "Have you identified a candidate?"
Vishnu's expression softened with something approaching fondness. "I have. A young girl in Varanasi—her path crossed with the anomaly, and her destiny shifted irrevocably. Her devotion burns pure, her spirit untainted by ego. She doesn't yet realize it, but she carries a spark of something greater. Even without our blessing, she would rise as a champion. It's merely a matter of time."
"Then I shall seek the other two," Brahma said. Divine light gathered between his palms, swirling with creation's full spectrum. "We'll need representatives of different paths—a warrior and a sage to complement your devotee."
"Choose wisely, Architect," Vishnu cautioned. "These three will face forces that would shatter lesser souls. They must be tested, tempered, and prepared for what approaches."
Brahma nodded, seriousness settling across his four faces. "What of this universe's version of our pantheon? Should we instruct them not to interfere with the champions?"
"No," Vishnu replied. "Should the gods of this universe's pantheon choose to involve themselves with our champions, let them. They will serve as either allies who strengthen the children's resolve, or adversaries who temper them through conflict. Both paths lead to the same destination."
Brahma fell silent, contemplative. After a moment, he nodded in agreement. "I see the wisdom in that approach. I only hope these children grow well and do not lose themselves in the crucible ahead. Otherwise, unless the anomaly or his family intervene..."
"The design may be threatened, but still it shall not fall," Vishnu declared, his tone solemn as an oath. "Not while the Trimurti watches over creation. Should the worst come to pass, we will manifest in our true forms and perform our respective roles for this universe."
Divine light flooded the highest reaches of Mount Meru as the two gods began their work—reaching across the barriers between realms to touch three mortal lives that would soon be irrevocably transformed.
Far below, in the mortal realm, certain individuals went about their daily lives, unaware that the eyes of gods from distant pantheons had fallen upon them. Unaware they would soon be called to stand against the rising tide of darkness threatening to consume their world.
Outer Solar System — Near Pluto's Orbit
At the frozen edge of the solar system, space rippled and distorted. A sleek vessel emerged from the collapsing hyperspace corridor—the Prometheus Javelin, finally returning home after weeks in the Vega System.
Inside the medical bay, Diana and Rachel lay suspended in their MedPods, healing from the severe injuries they'd sustained against Citro. The Higher Realm being had pushed them beyond their limits.
On the bridge, M'gann studied the navigation display, exhaustion evident in her movements. "Switching to repulsor engines. We're approximately four hours out from Earth at current velocity." She glanced at Barbara. "We should begin preparing arrival protocols."
Barbara stood at the viewport, staring at the distant point of light that was their sun. Her jaw tightened as she turned to Karen. "The moment we're in communication range, open a priority channel to the League. They need a full briefing on what happened out there—what we encountered."
"Understood," Karen replied.
Barbara tapped the command terminal, pulling up holographic screens showing different sections of the ship. In the training room, Jaime, Gar, Virgil, and Roy pushed themselves through drills with renewed intensity. Her gaze shifted to the med bay feed, where Donna sat in silence, hair still damp from the shower. The pain in Donna's eyes was unmistakable as she watched her family—her sister Diana and niece Rachel—suspended in the MedPods.
The rest of the crew wasn't any better. They'd dealt a significant blow to one enemy, yet the victory felt hollow. They'd escaped a harrowing situation—a new Higher Realm threat that had reduced their strongest members to injured patients. Dick and Kori were still stranded in the Vega System. And Mother Empress's offshoot, which had forcibly brought them home, had gone silent without explanation.
Barbara had taken it hard too. After recovering from her own injury and learning what happened, the magnitude of it all nearly overwhelmed her. Rachel was her best friend. But the team looked to her now for leadership, and she couldn't afford to break. So, despite her turbulent emotions, she'd assumed command and steadied them—redirecting their focus from what they'd lost to what they could still accomplish.
"Get well soon," she whispered, her gaze fixed on Rachel's suspended form.
After a moment, she dismissed the displays and leaned back, looking out at the void. The ship's lights flickered as it adjusted course, beginning its long deceleration burn toward the inner solar system.
Behind them, the stars remained cold and indifferent.
But ahead, a small blue world came into view—home.