Chapter 132: Ch 132 : The King’s Gambit
The movie had lost its novelty. What had begun as a fascinating historical epic for Sunny had, over the last one hundred thousand years of viewing, become a grueling spectacle of decay. The initial shock had faded, replaced by a cold, analytical dread. He was watching a slow, grinding infection consume the entire cosmos.
The Demon Lords’ strategy was brutally effective. After Deimos, the Lord of Discord, was reborn, Beelzebub, the Lord of Gluttony, soon followed. The chaos in the multiverses, the raw hunger for power among the warring Gods, was a feast that had called him back from oblivion.
The two worked in perfect, horrifying harmony. Deimos would whisper the poison of discord into a God’s ear, and Beelzebub would amplify it with a fever of greed, a ravenous hunger for more power, more territory, more everything.
The rate at which the Gods fell accelerated. They knew they were being hunted, cornered by an enemy they couldn’t see and an oath they couldn’t break. They could fight the lesser demon gods, but their true foes remained untouchable, ghosts pulling strings from a realm beyond their reach.
The river of time flowed on, and the two-hundred-thousand-year-long film was now nearing its final act. Only fifty thousand years remained. Sunny, a silent witness to this entire forgotten history, now knew more about the old Gods’ downfall than all of them combined.
"I suppose it’s time," Sunny whispered to the void, a grim understanding settling in his soul. "Time for the desperate, final stand."
He watched a scene from 40,000 years before the end. Adam was speaking to Freya through the ornate mirror. "It’s not safe out there," Adam pleaded, his voice stripped of a king’s authority, leaving only the raw worry of a man speaking to his love. "When will you come back?"
"Just a few thousand more years, my love," Freya replied, the background behind her a swirling vortex of creation. It was her movable realm, her personal universe, nearly complete. "My project is almost finished." They spoke for a while longer, their conversation a small, fragile island of warmth in a sea of impending doom.
Another ten thousand years flashed by in the movie. The number of Gods had been cut in half. The infection had reached a critical point. Adam could wait no longer. He sent out a summons, a call that echoed through the dying embers of the cosmos, calling every remaining God to his multiverse for one last, desperate meeting.
The grand meeting hall was haunted by empty thrones. Where once billions had gathered, now only a fraction remained, their auras flickering with exhaustion and fear.
"I have made my decision," Adam’s voice boomed, leaving no room for argument. "And it is final. Do not forget that I am the leader of all Gods."
Freya’s image shimmered into existence on the mirror, her face a mask of worry. "Adam, at least let me return first!"
"Your realm is too slow," Adam countered gently but firmly. "It would take you a thousand years to reach us. We do not have that kind of time. Do you think I cannot do this alone?"
"I know you can, but..." Freya began, but he cut her off.
"No buts. I was the one who signed that cursed treaty. I will be the one to end the suffering it has caused. I will not let the worlds we built with our own blood and sweat fall to ruin because of my mistake."
Freya just nodded, her eyes welling with tears. She knew what his decision meant, the terrible price he was willing to pay.
This all started with the start of the meeting of the Gods:
"As you know," Adam had addressed the somber assembly, "half of our brothers and sisters are gone. We can do nothing while these demon lords hide behind their oath, using their creations to bleed us dry. They are too good at hiding, and they always pick the easiest targets." His gaze swept over the remaining Gods. "This cannot go on. If we wait, they will grow strong enough to kill us all like ants."
"What can we even do, Adam?" a God cried out in despair. "We are bound by the oath!"
"I have a way," Adam replied, his voice a sudden, sharp blade of certainty in the despairing silence. He knew there was no going back from this.
"What way?" Freya had asked, her voice trembling, already sensing the terrible nature of his plan.
"The first step is to force the Demon Lords out of the demonic realm and into the cosmos," Adam said, so casually that for a moment, the Gods just nodded. Then, the implication hit them. "What about the oath?!" they shouted in unison.
A grim, humorless smile touched Adam’s lips. "You think I was a fool to sign such a contract? Yes, perhaps a little. But I was not without a backup." He leaned forward. "If you all can remember, what was the exact wording of the oath the Demon Lords pledged?"
"They will not enter the world of the living in their current life," a God recited, and then his eyes, along with every other eye in the hall, widened in a flash of dawning, terrifying understanding.
"Exactly," Adam said. "And if I kick them out of their realm, what happens?"
"The oath is broken," Freya whispered, her voice barely audible. "Both you and the Demon Lords... will lose your divine talents."
"Precisely," Adam confirmed. "But you do not need to be scared. I will split my soul. Even if the first half of my soul loses its talents, the second half will retain them." He rubbed his nose smugly, as if expecting praise for his genius. What he got was a collective scream of horror.
"NO!" Freya’s voice was a shriek that seemed to tear through the cosmos. "That is a path to madness, Adam! Don’t you remember the God who tried to split his soul? He died in agony, his screams echoing for a thousand years!"
"I know," Adam said, his smugness gone, replaced by a quiet, unshakeable resolve. "But you seem to be forgetting my talent."
"Your talent..." Freya trailed off, and then her eyes widened even further as she understood. "So... you mean you’ve already gained that power?"
Adam nodded. The God of Growth had been growing, preparing for this very moment. He had already mastered the forbidden, agonizing art of tearing his own soul in subparts.