The great doors of Hursia's temple groaned as they swung open, their protest echoing through the vaulted hall like the memory of ancient stone. Kami entered without pause, Arthur's sword slung across his shoulder as if it had been forged for him alone. His stride was steady, unhurried, the faint scuff of his boots swallowed by the chamber's vast silence.
At the far end, Wednesday lounged on his throne — a motionless shadow, backlit by the molten glow of divine fire. Kami halted just shy of the dais: close enough for defiance, far enough for caution. His lips curled into a sly, deliberate grin.
"Don't you know how to kneel, child?" Wednesday's voice rolled through the chamber, heavy with judgement.
"Oh, please." Kami's tone was sharp, amused. He began to pace, each step deliberate. "I'm a deity now. Isn't that a bit much, even for me?"
Wednesday's gaze hardened, the firelight etching his features in steel. "You may wield a god's power," he said, his voice cold as polished iron, "but the Supreme do not claim you."
Kami's grin narrowed into something edged. "What more could you want from me? I've crossed dimensions. I've crushed your enemies. I've fought your wars."
"The best I can offer," Wednesday replied, each word heavy with finality, "is to make you my personal overseer. But a human — especially you — will never be one of us."
"Subordinate?" Kami tilted his head, voice low, testing the word like a blade's balance. His grip tightened on the sword hilt. "So you want me as your pet? I'd sooner die than live as anyone's underling, leash, or slave — god or not."
Wednesday's gaze sharpened. "The Supreme have no place for a false god. Nor do we need an eighth."
"False god?" Kami laughed — sharp, mocking, almost joyous. "You're not even half of what I am."
The air between them contracted. "Kami Van Hellsin," Wednesday said, voice dropping into something final and unyielding, "you have two choices: serve as my overseer… or declare war on the Supreme."
"You know damn well I'll never be your slave."
"So be it, wretched human. Be grateful I even offered."
"Ah — there's the truth." Kami's eyes gleamed.
Wednesday rose. The hall trembled with the motion, and a sudden gust tore through the temple, whipping Kami's coat from his shoulders in a snap of black fabric.
DOOM. DOOM. DOOM.
The ground shuddered as six other deities stepped from the shadows, their forms sealing the space around him like a closing jaw. Kami's grin widened, feral. Slowly, he turned in the circle, the sword's tip tracing the air as he gestured at each in turn.
"You had to call all of the Supreme?" he said, voice dripping with scorn. "And you call yourselves gods? Supreme? Don't make me laugh."
The fight was a storm, and Kami was the eye.
A god's spear flashed — Kami sidestepped, driving his elbow into the wielder's ribs, sending him sprawling. Another descended in a crack of lightning; he caught the strike on Arthur's sword, twisted, and hurled her into the nearest column. Stone split like paper.
They came together. He met them all.
One's flaming axe clashed against his blade — Kami shoved him back into his own wall of fire, armor igniting. Another cast chains of light; Kami yanked him forward, smashed a head-butt into his face, and sent him skidding across the polished floor. A golden warhammer swung from behind — he ducked, turned, and slashed upward, splitting the weapon like kindling.
The seventh god dove, wings like razors — Kami caught an ankle mid-flight and slammed the deity into the marble hard enough to crater it.
When he straightened, the once-sacred hall was a ruin. Pillars lay shattered. Fire licked at scorched tapestries. Cracks veined the floor like lightning frozen in stone. Beyond the temple doors, the city groaned beneath collapsing towers. Screams echoed through smoke-choked streets, the civilization of Hursia breaking beneath the gods' own war.
Kami stood in the center of it all — coatless, bloodied, grinning like a wolf with the kill in sight. "Seven of you… and still you can't stop me."
They ringed him again, panting, weapons trembling. His laughter, raw and defiant, bounced off ruin-strewn walls.
Then he felt it.
Not a blow — a touch. A presence at his back, cold and deliberate. Before he could turn, steel slid between his ribs. There was no pain, only the impossible pull — marrow drained from bone, breath dragged from lungs.
He staggered. His fingers went numb; Arthur's sword slipped and clanged to the floor.
The gods did not strike. They only watched.
The weapon in him glowed faintly, its edges drinking the light, drinking him. It wasn't killing his body — it was hollowing him out, stripping the divine spark from his veins. His knees buckled.
He looked down and saw his light bleeding away into the blade's black veins. His voice caught between a laugh and a snarl — then the glow in his eyes went out.
Kami crumpled to the cracked marble, the last of his power pouring into the sword that had undone him.
The Supreme gods stood over him, smiling. Wednesday knelt, still smiling, and patted his shoulder with mock familiarity.
"Regardless of everything, Kami Van Hellsin, I thank you… for showing me exactly what to do when someone like you walks the earth. We kill them immediately."
Kami, barely able to breathe, reached toward the gods in frustration — but could barely move.
"Jupiter… throw him out, would you?"
Jupiter seized Kami by the neck, carried him from the temple, and hurled him from the heavens of Hursia — into an endless fall toward earth.
"Screw you, Supreme gods. I pray you all get cursed. I swear I'll be back. I'll be back — and next time, I'll make sure to kill you all!!"
Those were the last words of the very man to defy the Supreme gods.