Creation itself is the ambition of all beings who rise above the ordinary.
It is the pursuit of an ultimate masterpiece where knowledge, intention, and craft converge into something eternal. And so, one day, God asked Himself a question that echoed through all existence.
What is my greatest creation?
What stands as the magnum opus of my work?
The answer came to Him with unsettling clarity.
Of all He had shaped worlds, stars, laws, and life only one creation surpassed the rest.
Free Will.
Yet a question followed, darker and heavier than the first.
What would happen if those who possessed free will deemed it too precious to remain shared? What if they believed it was wasted on those it had been given to? Such beings would rebel. They would scheme, manipulate, and wage war to steal that gift using every means imaginable to strip it away from those who dared to act freely.
And so it was that, eighteen billion years later, the end began…
Not on Earth but in Heaven.
In the Garden of Eden, where the first act of creation had once unfolded, stood a monumental structure untouched by time. A vast hall of divine design rose from the sacred soil, its ceiling lost in light. At its heart rested a colossal round table, encircled by massive seats carved from celestial stone. Beyond it, towering grandstands ascended in silent witness.
Among the seats, one stood apart larger, more imposing than the others.
And it was empty.
One by one, gods and angels from countless religions and realms gathered within the hall. The air trembled beneath their presence as the All-Fathers took their places.
The Father of Empyrean, God of the Heavens.
The Father of Elysium, Sovereign of Paradise Kronos.
The Father of Valhalla, Lord of Warriors Odin.
The Father of the Heavens, All-Father of the Cosmos Zeus.
The Father of Sukhavati, Guardian of Sanctity Buddha.
The Father of Tian, Ruler of the Celestial Order Yu Huang.
All were seated.
All, except one.
A quiet unease settled over the hall as the assembled All-Fathers exchanged glances, confusion etched into even their immortal faces.
"It has been a while, Kronos… Odin," Zeus said casually, pouring himself a glass of wine as though this were a simple gathering. "How have you both been?"
"I have been well," Kronos replied, though his eyes wandered the chamber, searching. "But do you not find this strange?" he continued. "We are summoned, yet He is absent. How long has it been since His last appearance?"
Yu Huang merely opened his ornate fan, waving it slowly so the breeze brushed against his face.
"How should I know?" he replied coolly. "He has always acted alone. This is nothing new." His tone made it clear that the subject irritated him.
Odin, however, exhaled sharply, his patience spent.
"Enough," he growled, his voice echoing like thunder against the walls. "Then what is the meaning of this? Why are we here if not to meet on his damned command?"
The doors of the great hall slammed shut in response, the sound reverberating through heaven itself.
Then...steps.
A sharp, echoing rhythm rang through the hall, each footfall cutting through the divine silence like a blade on marble. From the depths of shadow, where even heavenly light hesitated to linger, a figure emerged.
He was thin and unnaturally yet his posture relaxed, almost careless. Pristine robes of ancient Chinese make flowed around him, untouched by dust or age. From behind an ivory mask, strands of spiked green hair pierced outward like thorns, and at his waist rested a ring of jade daggers, each humming faintly with malevolent intent.
The moment his presence fully entered the light, the air grew heavy.
"Who dares enter without permission, Hellborne?!"
Kronos's voice detonated across the hall like a thunderclap, shaking the grandstands themselves. For a heartbeat, the silence trembled.
The intruder merely chuckled a low, amused sound.
"Forgive me, All-Fathers," the man said smoothly, inclining his head in mock respect. "For my… unannounced entrance. But I bring news that simply could not wait."
At once, Yu Huang, the Jade Emperor, rose from his seat. His fan snapped shut as divine pressure poured from him.
"What kind of news," he demanded, "would the Embodiment of Hubris and Urge dare carry here?" His eyes narrowed. "Tao Tie, you are not welcome in this place nor are any of your brothers. How did you pass the Gates of Heaven?!"
Concern bled through his fury. This was not merely an insult.
Tao Tie laughed again this time louder, sharper. Not playful but Mocking.
"Oh, do calm yourself, Jade Emperor," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Wrinkling your brow so much is terrible for your skin." With that single sentence, he pushed Yu Huang back into his seat not with force, but with presence.
"I did not come to wage war," Tao Tie continued. "I came to offer… entertainment."
"Entertainment?" Kronos echoed, disbelief thick in his voice.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Zeus asked, wine forgotten in his hand.
Odin said nothing. His single eye gleamed with interest. This this was far more engaging than a ceremonial gathering.
Tao Tie spread his arms wide.
"We of Hell," he announced, "have grown bored."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"While you 'kind ones' sit above, watching and waiting, we have reached a conclusion." His voice sharpened. "Humanity is unworthy of wielding Free Will."
The words landed like a guillotine.
"And therefore," Tao Tie continued, his grin widening, "Hell demands an Armageddon."
The name itself carried weight.
Armageddon
An ancient ritual spoken of only in forbidden texts. A convergence that signaled not merely the end of mankind, but the unraveling of creation itself.
If invoked, humanity would be stripped of its right to choose. Reduced to dustless than the echo of its original design. And worse still, gods whose existence depended upon belief… would face extinction.
"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS!" Kronos roared, rising from his throne. "How dare you speak of such a calamity when He is not present!"
Buddha's voice followed, calm yet piercing.
"By what authority do you seek to take something so sacred from humanity?"
For the first time, Tao Tie's smile stretched unnaturally wide.
"Authority?" he repeated softly. "Oh, that is the simplest part."
His gaze drifted to the empty seat the largest throne in the hall.
"He gave it to me," Tao Tie said. "Who else could have?"
The hall froze.
"Hell," Tao Tie continued, "has decided to proceed. Not merely to destroy but to judge." His fingers brushed the jade daggers at his waist. "We shall determine who is truly worse."
Sixteen champions of Hell.
Sixteen of the worst humanity has ever produced.
"They will face one another," Tao Tie declared, "in a final reckoning. And the victor shall decide the fate of Free Will."
His mask tilted slightly upward.
"Will the worst of mankind prove worthy to keep it?"
"Or will the worst of Hell claim it for themselves?"
The heavens stood silent.
And somewhere beyond creation itself…
something stirred.
Tao Tie lifted a hand to his mask.
With deliberate slowness, he pulled it back.
Beneath it was a smile sharp, knowing, far too human for something born of Hell. His eyes gleamed with anticipation, as though the future he envisioned was already unfolding exactly as planned.
"I will take my leave now," Tao Tie said lightly. "The list of those who wish to participate is already being assembled. You have little time left before you are forced to entertain yourselves."
He turned, then paused, as if remembering something trivial.
"Oh, and one more thing," he added. "The Furies will oversee the selection of candidates." His smile widened. "However, as a gesture of fairness…" His gaze swept across the All-Fathers. "You will be granted a single option."
Silence pressed in.
"You may send one All-Father to Hell," Tao Tie continued, "to assist humanity. No more. No less."
He spread his arms.
"That is all."
A crimson circle flared beneath his feet, ancient symbols of Hell etched into its surface Chinese characters glowing like molten iron. Heat surged through the hall as hellfire erupted upward.
"We shall meet again in Tartarus," Tao Tie said cheerfully. "Bye-bye~"
With a mocking wave, he vanished in a violent burst of red flame, leaving only scorched air and unease behind.
"There is something… off about this," Kronos muttered, his gaze lingering where Tao Tie had stood. "Something foul beneath the surface." He turned to the others. "I will go. I shall deal with the sisters myself."
Before he could take another step, Zeus rose.
"No," Zeus said firmly. "It will be me. Of the two of us, I am the stronger." Lightning crackled faintly around his throne as he spoke, his decision absolute.
Odin, meanwhile, had already turned away.
This did not concern him.
Without a word, the All-Father of Valhalla left the hall, his thoughts fixed not on Heaven nor Hell but on matters of his own design.
Yu Huang stood motionless for several breaths. His expression was troubled, his mind racing. At last, he turned sharply and departed.
This challenge defied the natural order.
He would seek answers within the Jade Palace itself.
Buddha remained.
He exhaled softly, the weight of the moment settling upon him. Then he looked to Zeus and Kronos, his gaze calm but resolute.
"I will go," Buddha said gently. "I will aid the sisters. If you do not object… I believe I am the most suited for this task."
Neither god stopped him.
With measured steps, Buddha left the great hall, his presence fading like a receding tide.
And once more, the seat at the center remained empty.
Buddha smiled softly as he departed the hall.
"Armageddon… how interesting," he mused. "Kronos is right. Something about this feels wrong. We all knew Armageddon would come someday but not like this. Never like this."
He stood before the Gate of Heaven, its surface gleaming with impossible white, unmarred by time or conflict. With a quiet sigh, he pushed it open and stepped beyond, wondering what truths lay hidden on the other side.
The rule weighed on his mind.
Only one All-Father may meddle.
It had been written clearly too clearly. Buddha knew it had been meant for him. Not because of strength, but because of understanding. There were ways subtle, fair ways to grant humanity balance without breaking the laws of the tournament.
Yet one question lingered.
Why would Tao Tie allow even this much?
Why offer fairness at all?
As he walked, the endless white beneath his feet stretched onward until, at its center, he saw it.
A vast pit.
From afar it looked like nothing more than a black dot, an imperfection in the flawless expanse. But as he approached, its depth became unmistakable—an absence so profound it devoured light itself.
"There it is," Buddha said with a gentle smile. "A gate to Hell. I wondered where it had been hidden."
Without a second thought, he stepped forward.
The world inverted.
Ash and fire spiraled upward as Buddha fell—not violently, but endlessly—through the Nine Circles of Hell. He felt each layer brush past his awareness: suffering shaped by intent, punishment refined by choice.
He glimpsed Cocytus, frozen and silent, its eternal ice stretching beneath the sky of Hell itself. Beneath it, Helheim lay entwined two realms bound together beneath an inverted heaven of frost. Far above, the River Styx surged upward from Hades, flowing against gravity like a vein of wrath piercing the abyss.
Deeper still he fell.
Until, at last, the descent ended.
Buddha landed gently within a mist-laden forest endless, gray, and still.
Asphodel.
"Well," he said, yawning lightly, "I suppose this is where the fall ends. I'll need to go deeper."
He began to walk.
Souls drifted aimlessly between pale trees, their expressions hollow yet curious. As Buddha passed, some stared in awe. Others bowed instinctively. Even the dead—those bound to duty—lowered their heads in reverence.
Then a thought crossed his mind.
"…Why walk," he murmured, "when I can simply pay for a ride?"
With renewed purpose, Buddha wandered until he found the River Styx, its dark waters whispering forgotten grudges. A small wooden bridge half-built, half-rotted stretched across it. At the end of the bridge hung a small bell.
Buddha rang it.
The mist thickened, curling and folding upon itself until a small boat emerged from the fog. At its helm stood a young-looking man, cloaked in a wizard-like robe, his face calm despite eyes older than death.
"Hȳr mǣl þæt līhtigende," Charon rasped, his voice crumbling with age despite his youthful form.
"A good evening to you as well, Charon," Buddha replied warmly. "Would you be so kind as to take me to Tartarus?"
He produced a gold coin with a smile.
"See? I even brought payment. Not like last time."
Charon accepted the coin then leaned in and whispered something.
Buddha blinked.
"W–What? What do you mean it isn't enough?"
Charon whispered again.
"Eh?! Because you ferried me for free last time, I have to pay extra now?" Buddha sighed dramatically. "Ah, you truly are relentless."
With a laugh, he produced a second gold coin and placed it into Charon's hand.
Only then did the ferryman nod.
The boat drifted forward, slicing silently through the waters of the Styx as they began their journey toward Tartarus.
The mist thickened, coiling like a living veil, blurring the edges of Hades itself. Landmarks dissolved into pale silhouettes as the boat drifted onward, the waters of the Styx whispering beneath it.
Charon's paddle dipped slowly, rhythm steady and unhurried. After a long silence, he glanced toward Buddha, curiosity finally overcoming his restraint.
"What brings you here, Enlightened One?" Charon asked, his voice low, carried gently by the fog.
Buddha smiled faintly.
"Oh, you know," he replied lightly. "I came to visit the three sisters. You wouldn't happen to know where I might find them, would you, Charon?"
The ferryman scratched his head with a long, bony finger, considering the question. After a moment, he nodded.
"Yes," Charon said. "They have been wandering the circles—and Hades itself—searching for someone. They often call upon me."
He returned his attention to the river and continued to paddle.
Slowly, the Styx began to change.
Its dark waters shifted in hue, deepening… reddening. The surface trembled, then started to boil, releasing thick clouds of steam that smelled of iron and old blood. The air grew heavier, pressing against the soul.
Ahead, the underworld began to take form.
Immense structures rose from the abyss fortresses carved into the void itself. Chains thicker than mountains stretched across endless chasms. The sky above fractured into layers of shadow and flame, spiraling downward toward an unseen depth.
This was not Hades.
This was Tartarus.
The heart of damnation.
The river slowed as they approached its edge, the crimson waters glowing faintly beneath the looming darkness. Even Charon fell silent now, his paddle stilled for a moment in respect.
Buddha gazed ahead, his expression serene.
"So this is where judgment gathers," he said softly.
And somewhere within Tartarus, the Furies were already waiting.