Chapter 161: New Form
The tree of dharma shook as if it might tear itself from the roots. The lotus lakes churned, the rivers of milk boiled black, and the hymns of mortals twisted into screams. The Hindu realm was no longer a sanctuary of prayer—it was a battlefield of gods and something greater.
Hades stood at the center, wings spread like night itself, his crimson eyes burning holes into the sky. Across from him, Shiva, Kala, and Prakriti gathered their strength, their bodies battered but their fury sharper than before. Around them the Hindu gods steadied themselves, their weapons raised, though fear flickered across even the calmest of faces.
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Kala moved first. Time itself cracked as he lifted his hand, the air around Hades splintering into fragments of centuries. Grass grew and withered in heartbeats, rivers dried and returned in flashes. He sought to bury the abyss under the weight of ages.
Hades stepped forward, his bident raised. The cracks in reality folded toward him, sucked into the abyss that bled from his chest. The centuries that should have crushed him instead bent and died at his feet, swallowed whole.
Then Prakriti surged, her arms multiplying into forests of limbs, each hand birthing oceans, beasts, and storms. They poured down like avalanches.
Hades slammed his wings together. The creations withered mid-air—rivers turning to ash, beasts rotting into bone, storms collapsing into silence. His voice rolled like a pit opening. "Creation ends in me."
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Shiva struck.
His dance resumed, every step shaking the battlefield, every strike of his trident dragging rhythm back into the chaos. He spun through smoke and flame, his weapon carving arcs that hummed with destruction. Hades met him head-on, bident catching trident, their clash louder than worlds breaking.
For a moment, silence and rhythm fought for dominance.
Hades shoved, white fire flaring through his veins, his wings slicing downward like blades. Shiva spun, the serpent at his throat hissing, his rhythm unbroken. Sparks poured between them, painting the lotus lakes in red and silver.
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Vishnu moved next, his discus burning across the battlefield, cutting through shadow like a sun trapped in steel. Athena raised her shield to intercept, sparks spraying across her arm, but the strike still bent her knees. Artemis’s arrows followed, silver streaks cracking against Durga’s lion, forcing the beast back.
Indra hurled his thunder at Nyx, but her veil stretched wider, swallowing it into starlight. Poseidon’s trident ripped rivers across the lotus lake, smashing into Hanuman’s mace, waves exploding like cannons.
Everywhere gods clashed—chaos layered on chaos.
But all eyes returned to the center, where Hades was no longer fighting like a god at war. He fought like a void eating the world.
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Kala lunged, his hand pressing centuries onto Hades’s spine, bending his form into fractures. Hades staggered for the first time, blood dripping black and white from his mouth.
Prakriti closed in, her arms wrapping around him, trying to crush him in infinite forms. Shiva’s trident struck from the front, spearing into his chest.
The three pressed together, voices rising in unison. "Fall!"
Hades roared, wings tearing wide, fire exploding across his body. The trident sank deeper, centuries cracked louder, Prakriti’s forms bound tighter.
And then the lotus lake split apart.
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From the explosion stepped Hades reborn again.
His wings had doubled in span, feathers sharpened into jagged blades glowing white at the tips. His bident no longer fused into one arm but into both, his body a cross of bone and abyss, rivers of molten light pulsing through him. His face was shadow and stone, but his eyes glowed like stars collapsing inward.
He exhaled, and rivers died.
The Primordials staggered back, even Shiva’s rhythm faltering. Kala’s centuries unraveled into dust. Prakriti’s arms snapped into pieces.
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Hades raised his weapon, and for the first time, he showed them what primordial power truly was.
He swung, and the battlefield bent inward. Rivers curved into nothing, palaces folded in on themselves, stars above cracked like glass. The tree of dharma groaned as white fire licked its roots.
Kala screamed, his skin splitting wider. "He is not taking power—he is feeding on us!"
Prakriti’s eyes darted across the Olympians, her voice shaking. "Look at them! Their light burns deeper than gods. This is no war of thrones—Zeus is seeding Primordials from our corpses!"
Her words cracked the battlefield heavier than thunder.
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The Olympians froze mid-battle. Ares’s grin faltered, Apollo’s hands shook on his bow, Artemis’s eyes widened. Athena’s knuckles tightened on her spear as she looked to Hades—and remembered Zeus’s silence when they left Egypt.
Shiva spat blood, his dance turning savage. "Then you are not gods. You are thieves. Parasites. Pretenders!"
Hades tilted his head, his crimson eyes glowing brighter. "Names do not matter. Gods. Primordials. Parasites. In the end, all of you fall into me."
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The fight resumed with new fury.
Shiva struck with his trident, rhythm breaking mountains, his serpent lunging with venom bright as suns. Kala hurled centuries like blades, turning weapons to rust mid-swing. Prakriti poured herself into storms of creation, rivers and beasts and skies clawing all at once.
Hades met them blow for blow. His wings shredded storms into ash, his fire devoured centuries into silence, his bident swallowed rhythm until Shiva himself faltered.
The Hindu gods screamed and fought harder, but even their fury dissolved into the void.
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The lotus lakes no longer held shape. They boiled black and red, swallowing palaces, burning prayers into smoke. The tree above bled light, its roots cracking under the weight of war.
Nyx whispered, voice trembling though her eyes stayed fixed. "If he takes another step, he won’t stop. Not even Zeus will stop him."
Gaia’s roots dug deeper, stone cracking under her fists. "And then the world itself won’t hold."
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Hades spread his wings, fire dripping from their edges. He raised his weapon, and the battlefield bent once more, silence crawling into the marrow of every god present.
"Now," he said, his voice low, terrible, endless. "Now you will see what it means when death becomes eternal."
And he struck.
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The Hindu realm screamed. The war roared on.
Every strike from Hades tore deeper into the fabric of their world. Rivers that once carried hymns boiled into tar. Palaces of crystal and prayer folded into dust. Even the tree of dharma, rooted in eternity, groaned as though it might snap in half.
At the center of it, Hades towered—wings spread, fire dripping, crimson eyes burning like dying stars. His bident pulsed with abyss and white fire, every motion bending reality inward.
Shiva, Kala, and Prakriti staggered under his blows. They were not losing a fight. They were being unmade.
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Shiva’s trident split the air, each step of his dance trying to restore rhythm, to force the battlefield into order. Hades met it with a swing that swallowed the rhythm whole. Sparks screamed, and Shiva’s serpent hissed in agony, its scales blackening under the abyss.
Kala poured centuries into him, pressing a million years of decay into Hades’s skin. Hades caught them, cracked them between his fingers, and fed on the dust like embers.
Prakriti birthed oceans and forests, storms and beasts. Hades swept his wings and reduced them all to silence.
The three Primordials, pillars of the Hindu realm, were faltering.
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"Now," Hades said, voice rolling like a pit opening. "Now you will see how even eternity rots."
He slammed his bident down.
The ground cracked open, abyss spilling through the lotus waters, eating at the roots of the tree. White fire licked across the battlefield, and Prakriti screamed as part of her form withered into nothing. One of her endless arms turned black, shattered, and fell into the boiling rivers.
She collapsed to her knees. "He’s... breaking me."
Kala stumbled, his centuries unraveling into clouds of dust. Even Shiva’s dance faltered, his trident slipping against the void.
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The Hindu gods cried out in fury and terror.
Vishnu hurled his discus again, blazing like a second sun. It split Hades’s wing in half—but the abyss stitched it back together before the feathers hit the ground.
Durga charged, her lion leaping with every claw burning. The beast sank its teeth into Hades’s arm, but its fangs shattered against bone and abyss. Durga’s blades struck next, dozens at once, but they vanished into silence before they touched his skin.
Indra hurled thunder, Agni screamed fire, Hanuman swung his mace with a roar that split the heavens.
All of it vanished. All of it bent inward.
Hades walked forward, wings dragging like walls of night.
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"Fall!" Shiva roared. His dance turned savage, wild. His trident struck the bident again, sparks exploding in red and silver. Kala pressed centuries into Hades’s chest, trying to split him apart. Prakriti rose, birthing storms of beasts and rivers, her face twisted in desperation.
Hades’s wings tore wider. His fire burned brighter. For a moment, the three were forced back, their bodies shattering under his strike.
Nyx whispered, stars trembling. "He’s going to kill one of them."
A/N
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