Harry Potter: BE a GOD

Murphy recognized the lord of the abyss.

"Foreigner, my nephew is a fool; you've used his ambition, but I'm curious, what exactly do you want to do?"

Murphy frowned. "I thought Apollo had made preparations against eavesdropping."

"That's why I call him a fool." Hades sneered coldly. "Wherever the sunlight reaches is under his divine influence, but the underworld is eternally dark. And you chose to talk in a tomb, my territory."

"Since you've heard our conversation, why did you come alone?" Murphy asked. "Don't tell me you haven't informed Mount Olympus of Apollo's betrayal?"

He looked at Hades calmly. "Lord of the Underworld, harboring a traitor is as grave as the betrayal itself."

Hades was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled darkly. After laughing for a while, he spoke again in a gloomy voice: "When I choose to leave an enemy alive, it's usually because there's a more important enemy to deal with."

"You're referring to your youngest brother," Murphy said.

"My foolish nephew got one thing right," Hades said. "He's been on that throne too long."

"You no longer question my motives?" Murphy asked.

"Apollo can't see it, but I can smell the scent of death on you. You've killed several gods; you have a grudge against us, don't you?"

"But you don't seem to mind?"

"In the underworld, I've long learned how to deal with my enemies," Hades replied. "It doesn't matter, there are many who hate me, enough to fill Tartarus. And it seems I'm not that important on your list of enemies."

"As you say," Murphy smiled, feeling somewhat akin to this Lord of the Underworld. "So, you're also seeking cooperation?"

"Perhaps," Hades said. "Although Apollo thinks he can kill his father, my brother has always been the most cunning and shrewd. I don't believe he will succeed."

"But even the strongest warrior, after being betrayed by his son, will likely be exhausted."

Murphy nodded, "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. It's a good plan. But I don't see why you're meeting me; you could have stayed hidden and struck at the last moment."

"Interesting analogy," Hades said stiffly, clearly unaccustomed to humor. "Your power is special; I hope you can lend me your strength."

"Your nephew gave me a third of his divine power as a reward, what can you offer me?" Murphy asked.

"Divine power, that's all," Hades said indifferently. "After our victory, all the divine power we gain is yours; I only want Zeus's head."

"You're more generous than Apollo," Murphy laughed. "Our cooperation will surely be very pleasant."

...

A hundred years later, in Asgard.

In this city of gods hidden atop mountain peaks, stood a majestic palace constructed by giants, the hall of the slain, Valhalla.

The palace was noisy at the moment.

The watchman and guardian god, Heimdall, placed a head on a tray in the center of the hall, while under the goddess Freyja's magic, the eyes-closed head began to sing. What it sang was the Song of the Nibelungen.

As the words "the splendid glory of Valhalla will fall to ruins" were heard, all the gods showed signs of panic, looking up at Odin on his throne.

The king of gods remained expressionless, "How many in Midgard are aware of this song?"

"Countless," Heimdall replied. "This epic has been secretly circulating for a long time; many mortals have heard this story."

"Why haven't you discovered it sooner?" Odin asked.

Heimdall appeared troubled; though he was reputed to see through the nine worlds, such a far-reaching sight consumed immense divine power, which he usually would not use lightly.

Moreover, didn't your two ravens also fail to notice?

"Somebody is deliberately covering it up," Heimdall said. "Perhaps it's those Vanir."

The deities of the cold north weren't limited to Asgard's Aesir; this frigid realm also harbored a pantheon older than the Aesir. Although their original worshipers had been driven almost to extinction, their legends persisted, even if they had weakened but had not yet vanished.

"I knew it was their doing!" Thor burst out angrily. "The omens of Ragnarök are becoming clearer by the day; we must eradicate those people before the great war."

"Speaking of the omens of Ragnarök... I must remind you," the queen of the gods, Frigg, seated next to Odin, said, "it has been altered; that legend has begun to affect the future."

Unlike other pantheons

, the Nordic gods seemed predestined by their myths to be destroyed in a final battle due to the harsh climate or some other reason.

Odin had foreseen Ragnarök multiple times, describing to the gods the visions he had seen: the shattered World Tree, the collapse of Valhalla, monstrous creatures, gods dying in battle.

However, now, the omens of Ragnarök had changed under the influence of legend. Valhalla was not just collapsing but being destroyed by a great fire, and the World Tree was not merely broken but charred to a stump. Simultaneously, he vaguely saw the figure of a malevolent deity.

He was sure, some gods were opposing him; some gods were involved in Ragnarök.

"I had a dream, a dream about death," the god of light, Baldr, said with a smile that seemed incredibly weary and sad. "I dreamed of darkness covering the nine realms, everything returning to nothingness."

This was one of the omens Frigg mentioned.

"If we are all to die in a war, so be it!" Thor shouted. "It is our honor as warriors to die on the battlefield!"

"We should kill all the singers who spread the epic," the god of war, Tyr, arrogantly holding a long sword, suggested. "A bunch of mortals who do not respect the gods, we should teach them fear!"

"Or, we could be smarter about this. The key figures in this legend are a demigod and a Valkyrie; we should prevent their emergence," the goddess Freyja proposed.

The gods discussed loudly, the palace filled with noise, until Odin and Mimir's head, placed beside the throne on a tray, whispered briefly, finally calming the gods down, "War, this war is inevitable, we must prepare."

All eyes turned to the throne. "Odin, what do you decide?"

The god king was silent for a moment, about to speak, when suddenly his expression changed, looking towards the great hall's entrance.

A dark mist flew in from the door, transforming into a tall, slender man upon touching the ground. His face was painted with eerie skull markings using white chalk, hiding his true face, and his unruly red hair floated like flames. The thick black smoke emanating from his body gave off an evil aura.

At that moment, he held a long spear in one hand and a large sack in the other, striding into the hall.

Odin's expression seemed pleased, "My brother, what have you brought me this time?"

The deity laughed heartily, arriving at the center of the hall, swinging his spear to knock aside the floating poet's head, then heavily dropping the sack on the floor.

"My dear brother, I bring you everything!"

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