Across the world, capitals shifted toward pantheons and temples. Mount Olympus, Asgard, and many others now manifested as physical locations on Earth, anchoring their divine presence among mortals. The Vatican, once symbolic, began forging a militant order of believers. New powers, ruled by the chosen of ancient gods, were reshaping civilization.
Militaries across nations scrambled to recruit chosen before they could ally with a pantheon or be wiped out by an enemy of the deity they represented. The world had fallen into chaos, with no true order left to restore.
Hordes of demons razed entire nations. Ancient beings and mythical creatures laid claim to vast territories. In the U.S., no dominant pantheon ruled. Native American gods and spirits rose to defend their homeland, but lacked the power to oppose old gods.
Exiled deities, forgotten spirits, and gods whose descendants migrated to North America began to awaken. After the sudden appearance of the divine temple, the Council was formed an alliance of powerful gods with no major homeland. Governments collapsed outside of fortified military bases, which were now reduced to housing chosen, hoarding weapons, and managing ever-growing refugee camps. A fragile balance between the Council and remaining military forces clung to survival.
Hunter held his phone, listening to the rings, hand pressed to his forehead. Distant explosions shook the air behind him.
"What do you need, oaf?" a snide voice answered.
"Demons are attacking the camp. Mike and our refugee Hamza went to handle it. I'm still out in the desert, chasing a voice that only speaks in contradictions after a storm. Sounded like your domain," Hunter muttered.
Henry laughed. "Fool, it's a Heyoka. A thunder spirit. It speaks in opposites and thrives on chaos. Harmless, just annoying. Perfect match for someone like you." He hung up without another word.
Hunter sighed and turned toward the growing sounds of carnage in the camp, then began limping back.
Smoke and dust curled through the ruins of the refugee camp. Explosions from Ethan the angelic chosen of Raguel had left deep craters and mangled bodies. High above the battlefield, Ethan hovered, wings glowing with white fire.
In the haze, burning red eyes moved through the smoke. A black-scaled beast, twice the size of a man, stalked the blood-soaked ground—horns swept back from its skull, spikes lining its forearms and spine, a tail dragging behind, and leathery wings unfurled.
The massive six-horned demon charged at the creature, only to stop cold.
The dragon-headed monster turned its gaze on him—and vanished.
The world spun. The demon's vision broke as his body crumpled to the sand his head had hit the ground in one direction, his body in the other. Everything faded to black.
Mike tore through the camp, slaughtering demon and soldier alike. With wings spread wide and smoke curling from his mouth, he became a storm of claws and destruction.
Returning to the heart of the battlefield, he found Hamza and Ethan locked in a brutal fight.
"Dominate all that oppose you!" Bahamut growled.
Mike snatched a soldier mid-charge and hurled him like a cannonball toward Ethan.
With blinding speed, Ethan sliced the body clean in half. The pieces flew past.
Mike, already above, swung his massive tail and smashed Ethan into the earth. A crater formed around the impact, dust billowing into the sky.
Ethan rose slowly, glaring upward. "Demonic beast! I will purify your soul!"
Golden light enveloped his form. His wings ignited, launching spears of divine energy that slashed across Mike's scales. The heat seared him. Blood seeped from between cracked armor plates.
Mike let out a guttural growl. With a flap of his wings, he surged forward. His claws clashed against Ethan's radiant spear. Sparks erupted as metal sang against scale.
Ethan struck again and again, but Mike deflected or absorbed the blows, countering each one with merciless power. Blood flowed from both warriors.
Finally, Ethan landed. Breath ragged. Hands bleeding. The divine glow faded from his limbs. His grip on the spear trembled.
Mike saw it. He landed with a thud and charged. The spear rose—but slower this time.
Using his tail for balance, Mike pivoted hard and reached around Ethan, seizing both wings at the base.
Crack.
"Aaaaahhh!" Ethan screamed, stabbing wildly behind him as Mike crushed bone.
The golden spear glanced off Mike's thick scales, but the attacks grew weaker. Slippery with blood, the spear slipped from Ethan's grasp and hit the dirt with a dull clatter.
Mike opened his jaws and bit down on Ethan's burning halo. Heat seared his lips, but he clamped tighter.
Crrrreeeek… BOOM.
The halo shattered. Ethan's scream tore through the night.
Mike's jaws opened wider. Then, in one clean bite, he tore Ethan's head off.
The body collapsed to the earth. Mike spat the head aside, its glowing eyes staring lifelessly at the sky.
He scanned the battlefield silent. No demons left. No soldiers moving. Just bodies. Just smoke.
Hamza watched with interest as he saw Mike standing there completely covered in scales.
Mike stood in the quiet, wings spread wide, and let out a triumphant roar.
"Keep this mindset. Do not fall into weakness again." Bahamut echoed.
Mike stared out at the distant fires beginning to illuminate the darkness, the sun disappearing behind the hills. He would conquer this world as he had conquered his trial. Not because he was a monster.
But because he was going to be the Absolute.