In the heart of the Ebony Palace, where Greek architecture defies eternity, the air had become electric. Hades and Pluto, the two faces of underground sovereignty, gazed at the same mercury mirror. The pool no longer reflected the repose of souls, but the massive movement of the legions of the North.
"Hel has crossed the line," thundered Hades, his voice making the black marble columns vibrate. "She is deploying her Draugar beyond the circle of Niflheim. She thinks my silence is a weakness."
Pluto, adjusting his dark silk toga, stared at the border on the map: the zone of friction where the warm earth of Asphodel was beginning to freeze under the footsteps of the dead from the North.
"This is not a simple hunt, my brother. It's a maneuver of annexation. She's taking advantage of the turmoil caused by the Anomaly to encroach on our domains."
They saw Jormund not as a savior or a threat, but as a mere catalyst. For the lords of Asphodel, Hel's move was a declaration of war, plain and simple.
"So be it," Hades declared. "If she wants to turn the Underworld into a glacier, we will show her that the fire of Erebus never dies." "
With a sharp gesture, he struck the ground with his scepter. The signal traveled through the strata of the earth. Instantly, the barracks hidden beneath the Asphodel Fields opened. Thousands of Shadow Legionnaires, clad in ancient bronze armor and armed with spears of darkness, emerged with a metallic clamor.
"Intercept them!" ordered Pluto. "Break their phalanxes of frost. If a single soldier of Hel refuses to retreat, raze their fortresses!"
Meanwhile, at the border between the two worlds, Jormund, Siegfried, and Fenrir stopped, petrified by the spectacle. They expected to be hunted down. Instead, they witnessed a military cataclysm.
The black of Hades' Legions collided with the spectral blue of Hel's Draugar. The shock was so great that the mist of Niflheim instantly turned into a burning vapor. Ancient war cries mingled with the howls of breaking ice.
Siegfried gripped the hilt of his sword in disbelief.
"They're killing each other... Hades believes Hel is invading him!"
Jormund watched the bloody melee, his golden veins pulsing to the rhythm of the chaos. A dark smile stretched across his stone lips.
"They fight for borders that I will soon reduce to dust," he growled. "As long as they tear each other apart for an inch of land, the path to the heart of the palace is clear."
Fenrir let out a growl of satisfaction, her wolf's tail thrashing the air with joyful fury.
"The pack passes when the dogs fight over the bone," she exclaimed.
Taking advantage of the all-out war that had just broken out between the two strata of the map, the trio rushed into the fog of war. The revolution no longer needed to hide: it advanced in the shadow of a divine conflict.