Across the realms, the call for battle had been sounded. The Olympians, the Asgardians, and the Hindu gods each prepared to determine their champions. Heaven and Hell had no need for preliminaries—their hierarchy was absolute. The werewolves and vampires also refrained from such contests, for strength was already the foundation of their societies. But for the rest, this was more than a mere selection process. It was a proving ground, a battle to establish supremacy.
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The Olympian Arena – The Wrath of Gods
The summit of Mount Olympus was alive with battle cries and the crackling of divine energy. In a massive marble coliseum suspended in the heavens, Zeus observed from his throne, his gaze sharp as he watched the clashes unfold.
Ares and Hercules stood in the center of the arena, their bodies covered in bruises and golden ichor. Around them, fallen Olympians lay scattered—gods who had dared to contest for the right to represent their pantheon and failed.
Hercules, his muscles rippling, cracked his knuckles. "Give up, Ares. I was born stronger than you."
Ares wiped the blood from his lips and grinned. "But war isn't about strength. It's about carnage."
With a roar, Ares surged forward, his spear glowing red-hot as it clashed against Hercules' club. Sparks of divine fire erupted as they exchanged blows, shaking the arena itself. Hercules, wielding brute force, swung with enough power to crumble mountains, but Ares was relentless, fighting with the instincts of a seasoned warrior.
The battle raged for hours until, at last, Ares' spear pierced Hercules' shoulder. The son of Zeus fell to one knee, breathing heavily.
Zeus, watching from above, raised a hand. "Enough. Ares, you have proven yourself. You shall represent the Olympians."
Ares withdrew his spear and offered Hercules a hand. "Another time, cousin."
Hercules grunted but accepted the gesture. The god of war had won, and Olympus had found its champion.
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The Asgardian Trials – Thunder and Glory
In the grand hall of Valhalla, Thor stood before his father, Mjölnir resting at his side. Across from him, Tyr, the god of war and justice, held his sword steady.
Odin's voice rang through the chamber. "You both stand as our strongest warriors. This battle will determine who leads Asgard's might."
Thor smirked, summoning lightning into his palm. "Then let's not waste time."
Tyr, ever the strategist, moved first. He lunged with inhuman speed, his sword slicing through the air with precision. Thor met him head-on, hammer striking blade in a collision that sent shockwaves through the golden halls.
Tyr's strikes were disciplined, each movement calculated to expose a weakness. But Thor was raw power incarnate. Each swing of Mjölnir sent arcs of lightning through the battlefield, forcing Tyr on the defensive.
But Tyr was not easily overpowered. He feinted left, then surged forward, his sword cutting through the storm and grazing Thor's cheek.
Thor grinned. "Impressive. But I'm not done yet."
Lifting Mjölnir high, he called forth the full power of the storm. Thunder roared as divine energy surged through his veins. With one mighty strike, he sent a torrent of lightning crashing down, engulfing Tyr.
When the smoke cleared, Tyr lay on the ground, his body twitching from the residual electricity.
Odin stood. "Thor is victorious. He will be our champion."
Thor extended a hand to his fellow warrior. Tyr grasped it, nodding. "Fight well, Thunderer."
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The Hindu Pantheon – The God of War Ascends
In the celestial gardens of Svarga, Kartikeya, the god of war, faced Indra, the king of the gods.
The sky darkened as they prepared to battle. Indra wielded Vajra, his thunderbolt weapon, while Kartikeya held his divine spear, Vel.
"You think yourself worthy to lead?" Indra asked, lightning crackling around him.
Kartikeya simply spun his spear. "I do."
The battle began in an explosion of divine power. Indra summoned storms, hurling bolts of lightning, but Kartikeya danced between them, his movements fluid and precise. With every strike, he closed the distance, forcing Indra to fight up close.
The two clashed high above the clouds, their battle shaking the heavens. Kartikeya's spear cut through Indra's defenses, leaving golden ichor dripping from the king's arm.
Seeing an opening, Kartikeya thrust Vel forward, knocking Indra's weapon from his grasp.
Indra fell back, breathing heavily. He grinned. "You are worthy."
A deep voice rumbled through the skies, and Shiva himself appeared, his third eye glowing. "Kartikeya, you have earned the right to lead our forces."
The god of war knelt in respect. "I will not fail."
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A World Prepares for War
The trials had ended. Across the realms, the chosen champions stood victorious.
Ares, the God of War, would fight for Olympus.
Thor, the God of Thunder, would represent Asgard.
Kartikeya, the God of War, stood as the champion of the Hindu pantheon.
As the champions stood before their divine leaders, they each felt the weight of responsibility settle upon them. Though they had fought their own kind to prove their worth, they knew their true test lay ahead.
Ares looked toward the heavens, his grip tightening on his spear. "I hope this Samuel is worth the trouble," he muttered.
Thor cracked his knuckles. "A tournament to test our strength? I'm looking forward to this."
Kartikeya remained silent, his sharp eyes gazing toward the horizon. His father had already spoken—this was no ordinary contest. Something greater loomed beyond it.
The supernatural world now turned its eyes toward the true battlefield—Samuel's tournament, where only the strongest would stand.
And beyond the cosmos, unseen eyes continued to watch, waiting for the moment to strike.
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A Departure Long Foretold
As Samuel stood on the edge of the celestial battlefield, feeling the weight of what was to come, he sensed a familiar presence beside him.
A voice, neither male nor female, yet filled with an ancient power, echoed in his mind. "You have come far."
Samuel turned, his golden eyes meeting the shifting, incomprehensible form of Reality itself.
"I wondered when you'd show up," Samuel said, crossing his arms.
Reality's presence wavered, as if the very concept of its existence was fluid. "My time with you is ending."
Samuel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You no longer need me." The voice was calm, but resolute. "When we first met, you were lost, uncertain of what you were meant to be. But now? You are strong. You are sure. The universe no longer needs my direct hand in guiding you."
Samuel clenched his fists. "So that's it? You're just leaving?"
Reality's form shifted again, as if smiling. "I was never truly here. I am everything, yet nothing. But you? You are the one who shapes destiny now. And I have no doubt—you will prevail."
Samuel exhaled, nodding. "Then I'll handle everything from here."
With a final shimmer, Reality faded, leaving only silence in its wake.
Samuel turned back to the tournament grounds, his expression steeled. This was only the beginning.