From the ancient Council of One Hundred, only twenty-four survived.
Gods who survived the divine war.
Gods who crushed empires.
Gods who silenced entire ages.
Now, before the colossal doors of the Dome of Pantheora, the fate of the world would once again be decided.
The ancient hinges began to move.
Slowly.
The sound of metal echoed like an omen.
The doors opened.
The great circular hall revealed itself in the dim light: twenty-four thrones arranged in three concentric circles. Each seat carried the weight of forgotten wars and fallen kingdoms.
The air seemed too dense to breathe.
One by one, the gods crossed the threshold.
The presence of each one distorted the space around them. Ancient power. Silent rivalry. Pride that stretched across millennia.
The Templar Knights guarding the hall remained motionless.
To mortal eyes, the gods were not complete forms. Only unstable silhouettes, wrapped in an ancestral magic that prevented the human mind from understanding them in full.
Then a voice broke the silence.
Calm.
Cold.
"Excellencies… I am Moroz. Demigod. Guardian of this assembly."
His white eyes reflected a distant light, as if eternal winter lived within them.
He observed each throne.
Each presence.
"Today we begin the Council of the Immortals."
A brief silence moved through the hall.
"Before me stand those who survived the ancient Council of One Hundred."
His gaze moved across those present.
"You were the ones who brought an end to the age of humanity."
Some thrones remained still.
Others creaked discreetly.
"Empires fell. Nations were erased. The mortal order was replaced… by something greater."
Moroz breathed slowly.
"But this assembly does not exist to celebrate past victories."
His eyes grew even colder.
"We are here to reaffirm the pact of non-aggression between the gods."
The silence grew heavy.
"This pact maintains the balance of the world. It is not merely a pact of dominion…"
He paused.
"It is a pact of survival."
Some gods exchanged glances.
"Before the arrival of the Four Supremes, I will clarify the order of this summit."
Moroz slowly pointed to the thrones.
"Each seat reflects the role of each majesty in the reconstruction of the world."
His voice hardened.
"This hierarchy does not exist for appearance."
A pause.
"It is power."
The demigod's eyes turned to the templars.
"I ask that you moderate the use of your gifts. These knights are here to witness this meeting."
He slightly lifted his chin.
"Not to find death here."
Then Moroz declared:
"The session of the Council of the Immortals is hereby opened."
The tension broke the silence almost immediately.
"The twentieth throne…"
The voice came from the outer circle.
Varuna, god of the waters.
His sapphire eyes moved like restless seas.
"To be placed among the weakest is an offense."
The water around his aura vibrated slowly.
"I am not inferior to the dogs who occupy the upper ranks."
A laugh echoed.
Cold.
"Dogs?"
From the sixteenth throne, a golden presence leaned slightly forward.
Anubis, guardian of the dead.
His amber eyes shone with irony.
"And you dare compare yourself to me, Varuna?"
The golden aura around him pulsed softly.
"The rank you were given is only a reflection of what you are."
A pause.
"Hindu gods speak of themselves as if they were superior…"
He smiled.
"But often they are only puppets of their own illusions."
A movement passed through the thrones.
From the ninth seat, a figure raised his voice.
Serene.
But absolute.
Vishnu.
"Anubis… your ignorance is impressive."
His gaze was calm.
But heavy with authority.
"To scorn a Hindu god does not make you stronger."
A pause.
"It only reveals how much you still ignore about the true meaning of power."
Murmurs spread through the hall.
Thrones creaked.
Auras vibrated.
The tension grew.
Then—
The doors opened again.
An overwhelming presence invaded the hall.
Silence fell instantly.
The Four Supremes had arrived.
Even the most arrogant gods rose.
The first to enter was Odin.
His figure was impossible to focus on completely.
Runes glowed around his indistinct form.
In his hand, only one thing was clear.
Gungnir.
At his side came Zeus.
Something within his form seemed to contain a storm.
Lightning moved across his silhouette like serpents of light.
The other Supremes advanced in silence.
Each step made the hall feel smaller.
The templars felt the cold of reverence run through their spines.
But they could not see their faces.
Only feel their weight.
When the Supremes sat, the others returned to their thrones.
Some tense.
Others irritated.
Odin observed the assembly.
Then his eyes stopped.
The fifth throne was empty.
A murmur spread through the hall.
Then the doors opened once more.
She entered.
The Empress of the fifth throne.
Her black cloak dragged across the floor like a living shadow.
A veil completely hid her face.
When she walked into the hall, the air grew colder.
It was not ordinary magic.
It was something older.
Varuna narrowed his eyes.
"So you decided to honor this assembly with your presence…"
The water around him rippled.
"For someone of such elevated position, arriving after the Supremes is an affront."
He inclined his head slightly.
"A late tide."
Odin watched in silence.
Something was wrong.
He looked directly at her.
And tried to see.
He tried to read destiny.
Tried to see the threads of time.
There was nothing.
No past.
No future.
Only emptiness.
Odin frowned.
"What existence are you?"
His voice crossed the hall like an ancient whisper.
"Your existence appears simple…"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Or is there something beyond what even the gods can see?"
Silence.
The Empress only smiled.
A small smile.
Cold.
Pure sarcasm.
Then she sat.
As if everyone there were irrelevant.
Murmurs began to spread across the thrones.
Some auras expanded.
Others vibrated like blades ready to be drawn.
The hall stood on the brink of confrontation.
Zeus raised his voice.
It echoed like thunder.
"SILENCE!"
The air trembled.
"We are not here for disputes unworthy of gods."
His eyes swept across the assembly.
"We are the forgers of destiny."
Then Odin stood.
Gungnir shone with a cold light.
"I am not here to discuss thrones."
His voice echoed like a distant storm.
"I am here to speak about what approaches."
The hall remained still.
"My sight reaches through time."
A pause.
"And I saw something."
His gaze grew heavy.
"I saw the abyss."
Absolute silence.
"A void that devours everything."
He tightened his grip on the spear.
"I saw an army without form. Without voice. Without soul."
His gaze swept across the thrones.
"The Abyssae have awakened."
Some gods laughed.
Others remained still.
Like predators evaluating a storm.
Odin continued.
"I saw empires falling."
"I saw mortals being consumed."
"I saw gods reduced to ash."
He raised his head.
"I saw the death of gods."
The air grew heavy.
"I saw thrones shattered."
"I saw even the Supremes being devoured."
Vishnu's voice cut through the silence.
"Do you believe such words will bring us fear?"
He remained serene.
"The universe is not sustained by fear."
A pause.
"But by wisdom."
Odin tightened his grip on Gungnir.
"War will come."
His voice thundered.
"And when it arrives…"
He looked at them all.
"There will be no choice between fighting or not."
Silence.
"The only choice will be…"
A pause.
"To exist.
Or to perish."
The final silence was suffocating.
The Empress's cloak absorbed the light around her.
Her smile remained.
As if she already knew the outcome.
Zeus stood.
"Then answer."
His voice echoed through the dome.
"Will we remain divided?"
He looked at each throne.
"Or will we face together what rises on the horizon…"
A pause.
"As the gods that we are?"
No one answered.
Only the slow creaking of thrones.
And above them, invisible to mortal eyes…
the fate of the world was beginning to move.
Author's Note:
This prologue was revised to improve rhythm and narrative flow, without altering the events of the story.
Chapters 3 to 50 will also be revised in the future following the same process.