Feiyu lunged forward, fueled by stubborn pride and raw frustration.
He swung a punch at the guard, reckless and heavy—but clumsy from exhaustion.
The guard moved with professional speed, sidestepping the wild swing.
In one clean, trained motion, he swung the flat side of his axe around and cracked it against Feiyu's head.
A sharp crack echoed through the infirmary.
Feiyu dropped like a stone, unconscious before he even hit the floor.
Gasps and stunned silence filled the room. Some Chosen instinctively took a step back. Others just stared, wide-eyed.
The healers rushed in immediately, catching Feiyu's limp body mid-fall. Without waiting for an order, they carefully placed him back onto his bed.
Light magic shimmered in the air as they bound his wrists and ankles with glowing ropes made of pure light, the bindings pulsing gently but firmly, impossible to break by mortal hands.
The guard stood tall in the center of the room, his golden axe glinting under the flickering lights. He scanned the crowd, his voice booming out:
"Anyone else considering the same course of action… will be restrained immediately."
Silence.
Raiden clenched his fists but said nothing.
Kaito shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Zohar sat stiffly, his jaw locked tight.
Even Kirashi pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her heart pounding.
The Chosen ones knew now—no matter how much they wanted to help, they were prisoners for the time being.
The air in the infirmary felt heavier, thicker, almost suffocating.
Elsewhere in the heavens, the ancient halls rumbled under the strain of unleashed chaos.
Athena led the gods forward, shield raised, eyes narrowed with grim purpose.
Ares and Heimdall stalked behind her, their weapons drawn, their steps slow and deliberate.
Ahead, the broken doors of the chamber still leaked thick black, green, and crimson mist. The golden light of the hall struggled to push it back, like the heavens themselves were trying to reject what was inside.
Athena paused a few paces from the threshold. She tilted her head slightly, listening.
No sound.
No movement.
Then—
From within the mist—
Two burning eyes flashed open, red and green, locked onto them like a predator scenting fresh prey.
The mist twisted and thickened as a deep, low growl rumbled from the darkness.
Ares tightened his grip on his spear.
"Here we go…" he muttered.
And then—Shigenori moved.
The mist coiled tighter around them, swirling at their feet like a living thing.
Heimdall scanned the scene carefully, his sharp eyes catching every detail the average warrior would have missed.
Scattered across the marble floor, barely visible through the haze, were the bodies of fallen divine soldiers.
Some Spartans.
Some Vikings.
Some angelic sentinels.
All lying broken and lifeless, their once-impervious armor cracked open like cheap glass.
Heimdall's grip tightened on his sword. He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the others to hear:
"This isn't like the demons we faced on Earth… This is something else."
His golden eyes flicked back toward the mist.
"Something that needs to be put down."
Athena stepped forward, lowering her shield slightly but keeping her guard up. She cut across his words sharply:
"No."
Her voice carried authority that even Heimdall respected.
"The All Mighty wants this one alive."
The mist curled tighter now, almost playfully, around their ankles, as if mocking their restraint.
Athena continued, her tone grim but unwavering:
"He has plans for him."
Ares let out a rough, humorless chuckle from behind his crimson war helm.
He twirled his spear once, casually, then planted its butt into the cracked floor hard enough to send a faint shockwave across the stone.
"Well…" he said, his voice low and dangerous, "it better be worth it."
The three gods slowly moved into formation, weapons raised, shields tight, their eyes locked onto the monstrous silhouette emerging from the mist.
Ahead of them, Shigenori stepped into view fully for the first time—
His body a chaotic fusion of mortal flesh and demonic corruption, black and green veins pulsating violently under torn skin, his once-human features twisted into something feral and unknown.
He smiled at them but it wasn't a smile of gratitude.
It was a smile of challenge.
Ares, Heimdall, and Athena didn't wait for a second more.
With a roar of divine fury, they charged.
Spears glinted, swords whistled through the mist, shields radiated blinding light—
they threw everything they had at Shigenori.
But he was already moving.
Too fast.
In a blur of dark mist and raw motion, Shigenori leapt off the walls, his clawed feet slamming into the marble with brutal force. He rebounded, using every surface like a weapon. He grabbed broken debris from the fallen soldiers—a shattered slab of celestial stone—and spun in midair, using it as a makeshift shield.
Athena hurled a bolt of pure light at him, her shield gleaming like a miniature sun.
Shigenori twisted mid-spin, flinging the debris at her like a meteor.
Athena didn't flinch.
She raised her shield calmly, a shimmering barrier of heavenly force.
The slab smashed into her light wall and crumbled to dust, the impact sending golden sparks flying around her like a storm.
Before the dust even settled, Heimdall was already there.
Sword high, he slashed downward with precision and divine speed—but Shigenori shifted at the last second, slipping to the side like smoke.
Heimdall's blade bit into empty air, the mist coiling mockingly around the missed strike.
Then, just as Shigenori whirled to counter—
Ares hurled his spear with a violent shout.
The weapon screamed through the mist, trailing flames as it ripped through the air. Shigenori turned his head, sharp senses catching the projectile—just in time to block it with a burst of corrupted energy.
The impact caused a small explosion, fire and mist clashing violently, forcing Shigenori to retreat backward with a snarl.
But before he could recover—
The spear reappeared, teleporting in a burst of embers back into Ares' hand, spinning once in his grip before he caught it effortlessly.
He smirked behind his crimson helm.
"You're fast, kid," Ares said under his breath.
"But so are we."
The gods reformed their triangle formation instantly, moving with the kind of deadly coordination born from millennia of war.
But deep down, each of them realized something terrifying.
Even together… they were struggling to keep up.
And Shigenori—
was just getting warmed up
Shigenori shifted low, readying himself for another wild assault—but for the first time since the battle began, he got distracted.
His corrupted eyes flickered, sensing something deeper inside Athena—some reaction she was trying to bury.
And in that flicker—
Heimdall struck.
In one swift, brutal move, Heimdall plunged his blade straight into Shigenori's thigh, the divine steel burning against corrupted flesh.
With a guttural snarl, Shigenori was pinned against the marble wall, the blade locking him there like an insect trapped under a pin.
Before Shigenori could react, Heimdall rushed him, delivering a brutal series of piston-like punches to his face and ribs—left, right, uppercut, hook—one after another, rapid and merciless.
Shigenori's head snapped back with each blow, blood and corrupted mist spraying from his mouth.
Then—
A blur of gold and white—
Athena descended.
With a battle cry that shook the very air, she landed a flying knee directly into Shigenori's jaw.
The force of the impact cracked bone and snapped his head sideways, a loud crunch echoing down the corridor.
Shigenori slumped, arms hanging loosely, head drooping forward as if finally defeated.
The mist around him flickered uncertainly.
The gods stepped back slightly, watching warily, weapons still raised but breathing heavier.
For a moment…
It almost looked over.
But then—
A low, guttural chuckle escaped Shigenori's bloodied lips.
His head twitched once.
Then twice.
Then slowly, he raised his head.
His mouth twisted into a broken, wicked grin as he spoke—his voice distorted by corruption but carrying an undeniable shred of humanity.
"Nothing's gonna stop me…" he rasped, "from killing Lucifer… just like he killed Kirashi…"
Athena's eyes widened, a flicker of something hidden—guilt? Fear?—flashing across her face.
Shigenori grinned wider, teeth bloodied and cracked.
"…and the boy I once was."
He stared directly into Athena's eyes—and saw her reaction.
Saw that she knew something.
Heimdall, noticing the shift, barked urgently.
"Athena! Restrain him, now!"
But it was already too late.
With a roar that shook the stones themselves, Shigenori ripped Heimdall's blade from his own thigh, green-black blood gushing out.
In the same savage motion, he plunged the blade straight into Athena's shoulder, piercing through her armor with brutal force.
Athena gasped, stumbling backward, pinned to the wall herself now.
Heimdall leapt forward to assist—but Shigenori, moving with the speed of a vengeful spirit, kicked Heimdall with enough force to send him flying through a marble wall, collapsing into the corridor beyond.
Dust and debris rained from the ceiling.
Ares reacted instantly, hurling his flaming spear with divine precision.
The weapon screamed toward Shigenori like a comet—
But just as it reached him—
Shigenori's eyes flashed.
The air around him warped.
Gravity itself collapsed.
The spear slowed mid-air, the fire around it dimming as the weight of reality shifted.
Grinning, Shigenori reached out casually and snatched the spear from the air, spinning it once in his hand with almost lazy amusement.
Then—with a snarl—he hurled it back toward Ares.
The gravity around Ares returned to normal at the last second, but the sudden shift threw his balance off.
He barely managed to twist his body, the spear grazing his side, tearing a deep gash through his armor.
Ares cursed under his breath, stumbling back to regroup.
Across the hall, Athena gritted her teeth, ripping Heimdall's sword from her shoulder, divine blood staining her arm.
Heimdall dragged himself from the rubble, coughing dust, his blade gone, his pride wounded.
The gods regrouped, circling Shigenori once more.
But now—
Now they understood.
This wasn't a corrupted mortal.
This wasn't a possessed boy.
This was something new.
Something neither the gods nor the heavens had ever seen before.
And Shigenori…
He was just getting started.