After leaving the North Pole, Edward directly teleported to Themyscira, his boots landing lightly upon the marble stones that lined the sacred island.
The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of the sea, the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore carried up to the temple complex. From a distance, the golden domes of the Amazonian palace gleamed proudly in the sunlight.
When he arrived near the temple grounds, he saw nothing unusual at first glance. There were no signs of battle lingering, no smoking ruins or chaos — only the steady patrol of Amazon guards moving with their usual discipline.
Still, there was a subtle difference. Several warriors stood watch outside the temple that had once housed the motherbox, their bronze armor glinting and spears crossed as if to ward off intruders.
Normally, that place was left alone, since Edward had already taken the motherbox and stored it within the Gate of Babylon for safekeeping.
The guards straightened immediately upon his approach, then bowed low in respect. Their discipline faltered only slightly, for he noticed faint smiles tugging at their lips as they greeted him.
Edward tilted his head and asked with casual curiosity, "Hello ladies. What are you guarding there now?"
One of them, an Amazon named Rhea with sharp eyes and a wry smile, chuckled before answering. "Welcome back, my king. There was a foolish invader who tried to attack us, but the Queen, Princess, and Lady Hera defeated him. He's being kept down below for now. The Queen is awaiting your presence in the palace."
Edward let out a short chuckle of his own, shaking his head at the thought of someone daring to assault Themyscira. "Thanks, ladies. Keep up the good work." He waved cheerfully
As he turned and began to walk away, their voices dropped to hushed whispers, though his ears picked them up easily.
"The King is back after more than a decade. How long do you think they'll do it this time?"
"I bet two days. One for each."
"You mean three days. Lady Telute might show up as well."
"Hush! Even if she's our King's lover, don't forget, she's Lady Death."
Edward sighed with a faint smirk, shaking his head at their chatter. The Amazons' whispers never changed, no matter how many centuries passed. He chose to ignore it, though the amused glint in his eye betrayed that he had heard everything.
As he approached the palace steps, he saw Hera and Hippolyta waiting for him already. The Queen of the Amazons stood tall, regal as ever, her golden crown resting proudly atop her dark hair. Beside her, Hera's eyes gleamed with warmth and mischief both, the goddess-wife smiling in equal measure.
When they saw him, they spoke in unison with fondness that softened their authority:
"Welcome back, dear husband."
Edward smiled in return, preparing to embrace them, but before he could take another step, a blur of motion slammed into him.
"Father!" Diana's voice rang with joy as she tackled him with all the strength of a warrior who had forgotten her own power. "It's so good to see you! What did you bring for me this time?"
Edward staggered slightly but caught her easily, laughing while ruffling her dark hair. "Easy, girl. You almost broke a rib. And you only care about the gifts I bring? Not even asking how I'm doing?"
Diana stuck her tongue out at him like a mischievous child, despite her warrior's bearing. "Like anybody can hurt you. My father is the strongest man in the world!"
She tilted her head and added with exaggerated sweetness, "Also, he's the best father who would never come home empty-handed." Her long lashes fluttered dramatically as she batted her eyes.
His wives chuckled seeing their usual skit. Edward sighed with mock exasperation and pulled from the Gate of Babylon a small collection of items he had set aside for her: perfumes from foreign lands, sweets wrapped neatly, and trinkets gathered in his travels. "Still acting like a child even after so long. Never change, Diana."
Her eyes lit up as she grabbed the perfumes and sweets, lifting them to her nose. "Oh, these smell lovely!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with delight.
Then her tone shifted as she spoke quickly, "Oh, by the way Father, there was this creepy guy who attacked us today. I cut off his arms while Mother and Lady Hera handled the rest."
Edward raised an eyebrow at her casual tone. "Cut off his arms, did you?"
Diana nodded proudly. "Of course. He was disgusting. I wasn't going to let him touch Themiscyra."
Edward raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Diana leaned forward and kissed his cheek before skipping back a step. "Thank you, Father. Now go and enjoy your time. I'll be off. Thankfully Aunty Death made a soundproof room for me last time she visited. I don't have to listen to you guys anymore."
Diana had barely taken a few steps away when she peeked back around the corner, watching her parents with a mischievous grin. "Don't get too carried away, you guys," she teased, earning a sharp look from Hera and a playful chuckle from Edward. She disappeared again before either of them could scold her.
Hippolyta shook her head, amused despite herself. "She never changes. No matter how much she grows, she'll always be that spirited girl who refuses to sit still."
Edward smiled warmly. "That's why we love her. She's strong, but she's never lost her joy."
Hera leaned closer, her voice smooth. "And she knows her father will always return with treasures. You spoil her, Edward."
"She deserves it," he replied simply. Then, softening his tone, he turned to both of them. "So, tell me everything. From the start. I want to hear it in your own words."
Hippolyta gestured toward the palace. "Walk with us. It's better shared in peace, not in the open where every Amazon can eavesdrop."
Edward shook his head with a smile and finally moved forward to embrace his wives. His arms wrapped around both Hera and Hippolyta as he spoke warmly: "I'm home, dear. So you three beat up Steppenwolf?"
Hippolyta leaned into him, her strong arms encircling his waist. "Yes, dear. Thankfully you gave us divine powers, otherwise it might have been difficult."
Hera brushed a strand of hair from her face and smirked knowingly. "I killed most of those parademons myself. Aren't you going to reward me, husband?" Her tone purred with playful expectation, her eyes locked on his.
Edward chuckled softly. "Well, I have some good news. I've set up my Order to take care of most things. That means I won't be leaving unless there's a true crisis."
Hippolyta's eyes widened with genuine joy, her expression softening as she cupped his face. "Then you'll be staying with us more?"
He nodded and kissed her gently. "Yes, dear, I'll stay with you all as long as possible."
Hera smiled and rested her head against his chest, her voice low but warm. "That makes me so happy, dear. But I hope it doesn't distract you from your goals."
Edward kissed her as well. "Thanks for caring, my love. But maybe we should travel around together after some time. The world is changing, you should enjoy it."
Hippolyta laughed, her voice echoing through the marble halls. "That sounds wonderful. Just don't make it like when you took Diana and played pirate."
Edward smirked, feigning pride. "Hey! People still call me Pirate King!"
The three of them laughed together, the tension of past battles and looming threats momentarily forgotten. As the sun lowered across the sky, they walked into their chambers side by side.
As they walked together through the marble halls, guards bowed respectfully. Some whispered behind their hands, though none dared let their voices carry far. Edward heard snatches. comments about his return, speculation about how long he'd remain, envy at Hera and Hippolyta's fortune for being blessed with love .
Despite the invasion that had happened earlier, the day ended in joy for them.
And the night would be even more joyous. Another sleepless night in Themiscyra.
(Want some lemons? Plant a lemon tree !)
***
Meanwhile, far away in the burning heart of Apokolips.
Darkseid sat upon his colossal throne, carved of obsidian and fire, his eyes glowing with the ever-present ember of destruction. Before him knelt Grail, his daughter, her fists clenched tightly as she bowed low. The vast chamber echoed with silence until his deep, commanding voice broke through.
"Daughter," he spoke deeply with gruff voice, "you're saying that despite descending with nearly all your might, you could not defeat a single mortal? And Steppenwolf was defeated? Worse still, Barda also betrayed me…"
Grail's jaw tightened, her teeth gritting audibly. She lifted her head enough to meet his burning gaze, though her pride stung with every word. "Yes, Father. It is as you said. Earth is not as weak as you believed. Even the motherboxes are missing , all but the one in Atlantis remain hidden."
Darkseid's eyes narrowed, then shifted toward the shadow that lingered just behind him. An tall elderly woman, hunched yet imposing, stood with her hands folded sweetly in front of her. Her face wore a mask of kindness, but her eyes glittered with cruelty.
"Goodness," Darkseid intoned, his voice like thunder, "see to it that she receives her punishment. Such disgrace cannot go unchecked."
Granny Goodness smiled with a twisted kind of delight, bowing her head. "As you command, Great Darkseid. Discipline strengthens the weak. I will see to her correction." Her words dripped with false sweetness, but her eyes shone with sadistic glee at the thought of punishment.
Grail gritted her teeth angrily, but didn't say anything. She for some reason felt she should have stayed back at Earth like Barda.
Darkseid leaned back against his throne, his expression unreadable, though the faintest trace of curiosity tugged at his mouth.
Darkseid leaned back, his gaze narrowing as he thought aloud. "But to think…the Godslayer still lives. That could prove… interesting." His lips curved into the faintest trace of a smile.
He turned to another figure standing in the shadows: a pale-faced man in a hood, his hands folded with eerie patience.
"Desaad," Darkseid said. "Begin the preparations. After we deal with the Lanterns of OA, we march to Earth. I want to see this so-called Godslayer with my own eyes."
Desaad bowed low, his voice dripping with reverence. "Your will is absolute, my master."
The chamber fell into silence once more, the promise of war hanging thick in the air.
*****
Days turned into decades, and decades into more than a century. By the year 1910, Edward had found peace he had never known in all his long years of wandering. He was now a Family Guy. (😉)
He spent his days with his family, sometimes traveling across the world, showing them the wonders of human progress as cities grew, trains thundered across continents, and the first machines of flight took to the sky. But even as he enjoyed the world of men, his heart had been set on something far greater.
For after all these years, it was time to take another big step. He would wed Death, the woman who had been his companion through time and eternity. They did talk about often, but she would get shy and randomly throw around knives, making him sweat.
Thankfully her emotional control has improved a lot after she meditated with him often.
The wedding was to be held in Eternia, the land of brilliance and mystery where gods, mortals, and spirits mingled under skies alive with shifting colors. For the people of Eternia, this day was no ordinary festival. Their beloved god was marrying on their very soil, and for them, it was the highest honor.
Work was abandoned, harvests and duties forgotten. Every street bloomed with flowers, ribbons, music filled the air, and the people gathered in their thousands to take part in the celebration.
The halls of Eternia were alive with color and sound, the air thick with the scent of incense and flowers. Today was no ordinary day; today, Edward would officially marry Death. Word had spread across realms, and guests from every corner of reality had gathered to witness it.
The floating gardens shimmered under a pale sun, lanterns swaying gently in the breeze, and music from invisible orchestras filled the courtyards.
Edward stood near the dais, adjusting his ceremonial cloak, the gold trim catching the light. He glanced at Death, who was straightening her white gown, her pale fingers brushing the hem with delicate care. Her blush deepened as she caught his gaze, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"You look… radiant," Edward said softly, his eyes lingering on her face.
"Edward," Death whispered softly, her hand resting on the fabric of her gown. "Do you think… do you think everything will go smoothly?"
Edward chuckled, stepping closer to take her hand. "With this crowd? Probably not. But we'll manage. It's our day, and I promise, I'll make sure you enjoy every moment. I promise today, nothing will go wrong. At least, nothing I can't fix."
Death gave a soft laugh. "You always promise that. I think you underestimate how chaotic your friends and our family can be."
"Underestimate? Never," Edward replied with a playful smirk. "I know exactly how chaotic Delirium can get, and I'm ready. I've survived centuries; a wedding should be easy enough."
From the doorway, His friend and brother in law Olethros leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed. "Easy, he says," he murmured, a faint grin on his face. "I'd say surviving centuries doesn't prepare you for this kind of madness."
Edward glanced at him, rolling his eyes. "Dude, you're here to witness history, and be my best man, not lecture me."
"I'm here to make sure you don't embarrass yourself in front of my sister and all the gods," Olethros replied, amusement in his tone.
Death paused for a moment then smiled happily. "You came, Brother. Thank you."
"I wouldn't miss this for anything," he said, his deep voice resonant. "Besides, someone has to make sure Edward doesn't accidentally break everything before the ceremony."
Death laughed, her nerves easing. "Thank you for being here. Just don't run off without a word."
Olethros grinned, " No promises."
Morpheus also appeared silently, hovering near the edge of the hall, his presence a subtle shadow in the bright light. "A gift," he said, his voice measured. "For you both." He handed Edward a crystal shard that seemed to pulse with an inner light. "A dream shard. A piece of dream that can turn a dream into reality. Use it carefully."
Edward accepted it, smiling and patting his shoulder. "Despite your ever-gloomy demeanor, I consider you family now. If you need me, don't hesitate to ask."
Morpheus's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. "What will you help me with when you barely leave your room? You're too busy balancing three wives."
Edward laughed, tucking the shard away. "Touché. But if you ever do call, I promise I won't let you hear the end of it."
Delirium came spinning around them, a whirlwind of colors and laughter. "You're here! The ribbons! The lanterns! Oh Edward, do you see the skyflowers? No, the rainbow birds!
And congratulations on your wedding! I brought you a gift, I think. But I forgot. Maybe I should get another one, or should I find the old one?" She trailed off. Edward chuckled and hugged her. " You being here is the best gift, little sister."
She grabbed his arm and pulled him across the hall, giggling uncontrollably. Fenrir padded after them, a large bone clamped between his teeth. Edward handed him another, chuckling as the massive wolf wagged his tail with delight.
The Amazons were gathered at one side of the hall, their eyes bright with excitement. Clariss, one of their leaders, gave Edward a small bow. "Welcome , my king. We've kept everything ready for the ceremony. The Queen, Princess, and Lady Hera have made sure all is in order."
Edward nodded. "Thank you, ladies. Keep up the good work. But also enjoy the wedding and have fun." They smiled and bowed.
The ceremony itself began with solemnity and grandeur. Guests from across eternity had gathered. The Endless took their places first.
Death stood close to Edward, her hand gripping his lightly. Olethros gave her a nod of encouragement while standing beside her. Delirium bounced nearby, eyes wide with excitement, talking rapidly about colors and shapes no one else could see.
Morpheus remained still, a rare spark of curiosity in his eyes as he observed the proceedings. Destiny who rarely showed any expression under his hood, smiled. "Hope and Death, what wonderful changes would you bring?" He muttered softly.
The Olympians, Hades and Persephone, stood at a respectful distance, watching quietly. Zagreus, their son, ran around Diana, the two of them laughing together.
Hera watched Edward, a mix of pride and amusement in her gaze. Hippolyta's hand was lightly clasped with Edward's, her touch grounding him amidst the gathering.
Soon, the final part of the ceremony came. Edward and Death exchanged vows, their voices steady but carrying the weight of centuries. When the moment came to kiss, Death pressed her lips to his with a passion that made the crowd hold its collective breath. The hall erupted into cheers, drums and lyres striking up jubilant tunes, and the celebration spilled into the streets.
Tables groaned with food from all corners of eternity. Honey cakes from Themyscira sat beside wine from Olympus. The people of Eternia joined in dancing, singing songs of revelry.
The Amazons, energetic and strong, organized games and contests, testing each other's skill, occasionally sparring under amused supervision.
Diana challenged Zagreus, and soon the courtyard resounded with laughter and the clash of harmless combat. Hippolyta demonstrated her skill gracefully, disarming younger warriors with a flick of her hand, drawing cheers from the crowd.
Edward moved among the guests, smiling and laughing, teasing Delirium as she babbled excitedly about invisible flowers, and trading dry humor with Morpheus about the burdens of watching over dreams.
Olethros leaned in close to him at one point. "You've done well mate." he said quietly. "Even in a place like this, you keep everything in balance."
Edward nodded. "Thanks man. But today, I'm just here to enjoy it."
Death remained close to him, occasionally glancing around to see the amazement on faces young and old. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax fully, to be celebrated rather than feared. She whispered, "This… this is beautiful."
Edward kissed her . "You deserve it dear."
Fenrir's tail wagged happily as he chased children around the hall, the shard of dream occasionally shimmering in Edward's pocket, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, eternity and duty were never far away.
The celebrations went late into the night, filled with laughter, dancing, and joy. Edward had spent the day surrounded by family and friends, witnessing both his legacy and his future. Eternia had celebrated its god, and for Edward and Death, this day would linger in memory, a perfect union of life, death, and joy.
As the last lanterns drifted into the night sky, Edward and Death stood together on the balcony overlooking the gathered guests.
Their hands entwined, their hearts aligned after centuries of wandering, they watched as Eternia celebrated, their union a symbol of harmony, joy, and the enduring bond between life, death, and love.
Death looked up at him, her eyes glistening with happiness. "Thank you,my love. I feel truly happy in a long time." she whispered.
Edward smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "No. Thank you."
She smiled then took his hand , guiding him toward the bed, pushing him down gently. "Now then, for making me happy beyond imagination, let me reward my wonderful husband." She winked mischievously.
Edward smiled and replied,"Of course, my beautiful wife."
And so, the wedding of Edward and Death concluded, a day of laughter, love, and celebration, marking the beginning of yet another century together.
*****
Sadly, the joy after the wedding did not last forever. Five years later, the world was shifting again, and in Russia, something stirred that would shake the very foundation of Edward's Order. It had to do with a man who had once called himself a brother—Rasputin of Moskva.
For decades, the Order of Light had carried out its mission with steadfast discipline. They worked in the shadows, ensuring balance, preventing wars, and cutting chaos at its root before it could consume entire nations. Few outside their circles knew of their existence. Among kings, ministers, and certain scholars, there were whispers of an unseen hand guiding events, of a secret society manipulating rulers like pieces on a chessboard. They called it the "Illuminati," but those whispers were riddled with fear and distortion. The truth was simpler—the Order did not seek power for itself. It sought stability, the survival of humanity against its own worst impulses.
The Church, however, had never tolerated what it could not control. Time and again it condemned any hidden order that did not bend to its authority. Edicts were declared, purges called. Over the centuries, countless secret societies were rooted out and destroyed in the name of "cleansing." Yet the Order of Light endured. It endured because Edward had founded it not on blind loyalty, but on principles—and because it had the Apple of Eden, a relic that allowed them to peer into threads of possibility, to weigh paths before they became destiny. With that knowledge, the Order and its partners in the Brotherhood of Assassins extinguished threats before they could ignite wars.
It was not a perfect world, but compared to what might have been, it was mercifully stable. Nations postured and schemed, but none tipped over the edge into calamity. The Order made sure of that.
But in the first years of the 20th century, the balance began to strain. By 1910, one of their sub-members, Rasputin, strayed further and further from their discipline. At first, he had been valued for his ability to read people, his persuasive charisma, and his grasp of the Apple's glimpses. But where others tempered themselves, Rasputin indulged. He believed too deeply in his own visions, and when he became entangled with the Russian monarchy, the course of his life bent toward ruin.
The man who was supposed to watch from the shadows was drawn into the light of court. Rasputin found himself beside the Queen, her confidant, her lover. When he glimpsed futures where he stood at her side in power, he abandoned the Order altogether.
The Tsar, Nicholas, knew nothing of the Order, but he knew betrayal when it touched his house. Whispers reached his ears of his Queen's scandal. At first he dismissed them as gossip, then as slander from his enemies. But as the whispers grew louder, and his own guards could not conceal what unfolded within the palace, Nicholas's fury consumed him.
Instead of directing his strength against the rebels gnawing at the edges of his empire, Nicholas turned his armies toward his own capital. He marched not as a ruler defending his people, but as a husband consumed by rage. The rebels saw their chance. With the Tsar's main host away, they rose in the cities, taking ground with almost no resistance.
By the time Nicholas returned to the heart of power, three armies converged upon the capital: the Tsar with his loyalists, the rebels with their banners of change, and within the palace, the Queen and Rasputin, who clung to each other with desperate arrogance.
The clash was unlike any Russia had seen. Nicholas's troops battered down the outskirts, burning through streets to reclaim his city. Rebels flooded behind them, striking both Tsarists and loyalists of the palace alike. Rasputin, drunk on conviction, urged the Queen to rally the guard, to stand as sovereigns against both enemies. For a moment, the city became a crucible of fire, steel, and betrayal.
The palace itself became the last battlefield. Nicholas stormed its gates with his soldiers, shouting curses against his Queen and her lover. The rebels breached the other side, eager to see both monarchy and impostors burn. Steel clashed in the halls where once nobles danced. Blood drenched the marble floors. Servants screamed and fled, only to be trampled beneath boots or cut down in the chaos.
By nightfall, both royal lines perished. Nicholas fell with a sword through his chest, defiant even in death. The Queen, cornered, perished with the last of her guard. The palace burned, smoke choking the sky as rebels raised their banners in triumph.
But amidst the ash and ruin, one figure clawed his way free. Rasputin, filthy and bloodied, dragged himself from the wreckage. His eyes burned not with defeat, but with desperate denial. He staggered into the courtyard, coughing, clutching at his wounds, until a shadow fell across him.
He froze. His lips trembled as his gaze lifted, and there, standing before him, was the Great Founder himself—Edward. Cloaked in a silence heavy with disappointment, Edward's eyes cut through the smoke, through Rasputin's excuses before they could be spoken.
"Founder…" Rasputin rasped, falling to his knees. "I—I did this for love, for destiny. You cannot—"
Edward's hand lifted, silencing him with a single gesture. His voice was low, but it carried the weight of judgment.
"You are not worthy of being part of them." His eyes darkened as he shook his head. "You have disappointed me, Rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen."
Rasputin's breath hitched. His mouth opened to beg, but Edward's next words cut deeper than any blade.
"That song will be the only proof of your existence—nothing more than that." Edward's gaze was like iron, unflinching. "I hereby take back my blessings from you, and condemn you to hell."
The words struck like chains, severing what had once tied Rasputin to the Order. Edward had blessed all his members, shielding them from poison, sickness, and the slow decay of years. More than that, his blessing guarded their souls, holding damnation at bay. Now, before Rasputin's eyes, that light vanished. The weight of mortality and judgment fell on him at once.
"No… no!" Rasputin's scream echoed, but there was no mercy in it. Despair twisted his face as the reality of damnation consumed him.
Edward turned away. His expression carried not cruelty, but sorrow, the heaviness of a man forced once again to condemn one of his own. He had given humanity gifts, tools to rise above its chaos, but again and again, ambition and lust had corroded them.
As the flames of the palace smoldered behind him, Edward's mind hardened with resolution. The Order could not remain as it was. Stricter criteria would be set for new members—no longer could charisma and talent alone suffice. And the Apple of Eden, so long consulted freely among the Order, would henceforth be restricted. Only the head members would hold the right to its visions.
At this time, there were seven heads, each a pillar of discipline, with three to five sub-members under them. They would groom their successors, but the paths would be harder, narrower, cleansed of the weaknesses that had led to Rasputin's fall.
And so the year 1915 ended. In another history, one untouched by Edward's influence, the world would have already been engulfed in the First World War. Millions would have perished in trenches and fields. But Edward's shadow had stayed that course. War had not come—not yet.
But fate, Edward knew, had a way of bending back. Threads cut in one place reknotted in another. Balance denied would return in another form. For some things were meant to be.
*****
We're almost there. Few more chapters till the teaser I posted in chapter 18. The new schedule is on since this week, so let's see how far we can reach. 6 chapters weekly, bonus chapter per 1000 stones.
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