The ebony gate of the palace creaked shut behind them, cutting off the outside world as if it no longer deserved to exist. The footsteps of the three men echoed over the veined marble, cold as the silence that preceded them. At the front, the pale-skinned man with black hair walked with his eyes closed, his smile curved like a sickle of superiority.
—Everything is going perfectly —he murmured, caressing the words as if they were a secret—. Soon, we will be the sole victors of this war.
The red-haired man, whose pupils glowed like embers, pressed his fist to his chest in a gesture of fervor:
—My lord, at last our efforts are being rewarded.
The third, younger, with blue eyes and a cold gaze, did not celebrate. His voice sliced through the air like a knife:
—I just want them to pay. Every tear, every scream of my people… they will burn for it.
At that moment, the door exploded.
It didn't open: it was torn apart, ripped from its hinges by a beastly force. The wind that burst in smelled of pure rage, hot metal, and battle sweat. Something —someone— had entered, and the entire palace held its breath.
The three men turned toward the noise. The two younger ones —the red-eyed and the cold-gazed— were paralyzed. The door was no longer a door: only pieces of wood dangled, and thick dust floated in the air.
But the man with closed eyes remained unmoved. His smile widened, as if he knew everything.
—You were taking too long —he said, as if speaking to an old acquaintance.
From the smoke, something advanced.
A tall man, wearing silver armor full of cuts and scratches, as if he had just come from battle. In his right hand, he held a giant scythe, nearly as tall as he was, glowing with a ghostly blue aura.
—God of Death —finished the man with closed eyes.
The God of Death was not the spectral figure they expected. Beneath the silver armor, he looked like an ordinary man: blue hair tied in a ponytail, eyes the same color as the frozen sea. From his lips escaped a frosty sigh, as if his breath was made of frost.
—BAAL! —he shouted the name with fury, fixing his gaze on the man with closed eyes—. How dare you betray the Legion of Gods? Zeus trusted you. Now that this war is about to end with the fall of Kronos… you come to his palace to steal the forbidden weapons of the Titans? —The blue scythe vibrated in his hand—. If so, I will kill you right here.
Baal (now they knew his name) didn't open his eyes, but his smile turned even colder.
—Well… I made sure no one followed me. But you, always the cleverest of the Olympians.
—Don't dodge me! —roared the God of Death, and the air around him filled with frost—. Zeus is busy with Kronos, but I'm not naïve enough to ignore your betrayal.
—Betrayal? —Baal let out a bitter laugh—. Tell me, do you think Zeus will honor his part of the deal after three hundred years? We demons lost more than he did. Our people lived in a utopia… and now only ruins remain. —He stepped forward, and for the first time, his eyelids parted slightly, revealing a flash of crimson light—. Yes, I'm here for the forbidden weapons. To destroy the gods who ruined my world.
The God of Death lowered his scythe a few centimeters. The blue aura flickered, as if his certainty wavered.
—You accepted the deal —he said, but his voice no longer roared—. Zeus promised to share riches and weapons after defeating the Titans.
The blue-eyed young man stepped forward, breaking the silence. His gaze was a block of ice:
—He also swore the war wouldn't touch our world. The Demonic Utopia, where peace reigned and now only ash and bones remain.
Baal added —A deal? That was an ultimatum. Do you think I signed out of kindness? —A humorless laugh escaped his lips—. He forced me. "Sign, or I'll destroy your kingdom tomorrow."
The red-eyed man exploded, striking his breastplate with a trembling fist:
—And he used our people as cannon fodder! He threw them on the front lines against the Titans, armed with extremely powerful weapons! Did you really expect us to watch our own die... and do nothing?
The air thickened. On the silver armor of the God of Death, the reflection of the scythe trembled.
But not from fear, but from guilt.
His voice sounded cold, but firm:
—My duty is to protect Olympus from any threat. And you are a threat.
Baal sighed:
—Too bad you don't understand my pain. ATTACK, Arioch and Azrael!
Arioch (the blue-eyed young man) raised his hands and summoned five stone warriors from the ground, roaring.
Azrael (the red-eyed man) split into three fire copies that launched like meteors.
The god reacted: sharp ice shards burst from his body, flying.
Slash! Slash!
The stone warriors shattered.
Baal didn't look back. He walked into the palace as if he already knew every corner.
—You won't escape! —shouted the God of Death, but Azrael's fire copies cornered him.
Azrael studied the god:
—His power is Alpha-element: Ice. Approximate range five meters since the ice spikes didn't reach me and vanished at that range.
Azrael shouted to Arioch —. Stay more than five meters away!
The God of Death looked at him, surprised:
—He discovered my limit with a single attack?... This is dangerous. I must eliminate him first.
The God of Death wielded his scythe, boosting his attack.
Zshhh!
Hundreds of ice needles flew at Azrael, piercing his chest and exploding against the wall in a rain of frozen shards.
Arioch roared. His blue eyes glowed with pure rage at seeing his ally fall:
—BASTARD!! —he tried to attack directly.
But before he moved, a warm hand stopped him by the shoulder.
—Don't get close —said Azrael, emerging unharmed among the flames—. He only hit one of my copies.
The God of Death lowered his weapon. A cold smile crossed his face:
—You're a natural strategist. And you didn't let your companion fall into my trap.
The God of Death assessed the situation calmly:
«Azrael —if that's his name— is dangerously clever. The other… is just a novice fighting with rage, not a threat. Time for my master move.»
He raised his hands, and two giant ice swords emerged from the air, crashing down where the demons stood. Arioch and Azrael jumped, dodging the blow.
—I get it now. If he launches big objects, they have more range… but they're slow! —calculated Azrael— his range increased to about ten meters, but his attacks are easy to avoid.
But then… CRACK!
The swords shattered, transforming into hundreds of ice daggers that rained down on them. Azrael reacted instantly:
—Fire Curtain! —A wall of flames devoured the projectiles.
It was then that the god appeared behind them, sliding like a specter over a path of ice no one had seen form.
—What!? —shouted Arioch, but it was too late.
The scythe spun, hungry for death. Azrael had no time to move…
But Arioch threw himself in front of him.
The sound of the blade cutting flesh echoed in the hall. Arioch fell to his knees, blood staining his chest.
—Idiot… —murmured the God of Death, but his voice sounded almost… impressed.
Azrael saw life escaping his companion's eyes.
Out of nowhere, a cutting wind crossed the hall, hitting the God of Death and slamming him against a column. The walls groaned under the blow's force.
From the shadows emerged Baal, holding two objects:
A black box that absorbed the light around it and a necklace with a violet stone.
He approached Arioch, who still breathed in painful gasps. With firm hands, he placed the necklace around his neck:
—I hoped you'd last longer, my son… But it doesn't matter.
The violet stone burst in energy, enveloping Arioch in a purple mantle of light. His wounds closed instantly, and his eyes now glowed with the same unnatural color.
The God of Death tried to get up, but Baal raised a hand. An invisible wind immobilized him.
—You nearly killed my son —said Baal.
—What… what is that box? —stammered the god, feeling terror.
Baal smiled:
—In this tiny box lies the destruction of Olympus.
Meanwhile, Arioch stood up. His body radiated a power that made the air tremble.
Damn it! thought the God of Death.
Arioch stood tall. His eyes, now filled with violet energy, fixed a blank stare on the God of Death. Without hesitation, he launched at him with supernatural speed.
The god, still immobilized by Baal's wind, shouted desperately:
—Total control!
His body wrapped in vital energy, breaking the air chains that held him. Just in time.
CRACK!
Arioch's fist hit his chest, shattering part of the silver armor. The god staggered back, quickly covering himself with a thick ice shield to absorb the next blow.
Azrael stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Baal stopped him with a firm gesture:
—We don't yet know what changes the necklace caused.
Azrael looked at Arioch, then at Baal. His flaming pupils burned with frustration:
—So what do we do now?
Baal didn't take his eyes off the battle. His voice was a calculated whisper:
—We wait.
The God of Death tried to stand guard, but his body betrayed his pride. A violent tremor shook him before he coughed up a jet of blood. Arioch's blow had fractured more than just his armor.
—The gods… don't seem so untouchable anymore —murmured Arioch, his voice now cold as the winter wind.
The god looked up, his eyes glowing with wounded fury:
—Do you underestimate me, worm?
Arioch gave a smile that didn't reach his violet eyes:
—I don't underestimate you. I just now have the power to make you bleed.
With a sudden gesture, hundreds of stone spikes sprouted from the ground toward the god. He dodged most, but three pierced him: one in the thigh, one in the side, the last grazing his neck.
Arioch didn't wait. He dashed like a purple lightning bolt, ready for the final blow.
But the god slammed his palms to the ground.
CRACK!
The marble turned into an ice rink. Arioch lost balance, slipping forward.
That was all the god needed.
His scythe whistled through the air, cutting once, twice, three times. Then, two ice walls rose like beast jaws, crushing Arioch between them with a dull crunch.
—It's over —said the god.
But Arioch emerged from the ice rubble, his body radiating disturbing violet energy. The God of Death, breathing heavily, fixed his gaze on the black box Baal tried to hide behind his back.
—You said this would destroy Olympus... —murmured the god, as a bloody smile formed on his face.
Suddenly, with a final effort, the god lunged toward Baal. Arioch reacted instantly, chasing him like a purple lightning bolt. Baal raised his hands, trying to repel the attack with a cutting wind, but the god had already gripped his scythe tightly.
—Battle Cage: Death's Coffin! —he shouted in a booming voice.
A cube of energy enclosed the area. From its walls, spectral chains emerged, wrapping around the three demons, immobilizing them. The god approached Baal and snatched the box with a swift motion. With his other hand, he pulled from his armor a coin engraved with ancient runes.
—Farewell, demons —he mocked, throwing the coin to the floor. An emerald-green vortex opened behind him.
But then... CRACK!
Arioch broke the chains like glass, his eyes glowing with renewed power. Baal couldn't suppress a proud smile:
—Seems my son has developed… new abilities.
The god, without losing a second, leapt toward the dimensional portal. Arioch jumped after him, managing to grab his leg with one hand.
—Let go of me! —roared the god, kicking him in the face with his free leg before disappearing into the vortex.
Inside the interdimensional void, the God of Death examined the box with curiosity.
—Let's see what secrets you hide...
But then he noticed something terrible. The leg that Arioch had touched began to petrify. The stone transformation spread quickly, covering his torso, his arms, reaching his neck.
—Damn it! —he managed to exclaim, before his mouth sealed forever. —I've... lost...
The End.