Beyond The Impossible

Erebus, Throne of Hades

The Stygian Galaxy, 1.7 million light-years from Earth

Even if her days as the Goddess of Spring are long gone, Persephone still has a fondness for her garden. She spends most of her days tending to the spiraling mass of thorns that she’s cultivated for centuries, enjoying the aroma of its lethal poison.

Nobody disturbs her alone time, not just because she’s the Queen of the Underworld but because there is literally nobody alive on the capital world of this galaxy.

So she’s quite startled when the ground shakes so violently that even her palace starts crumbling.

<Who has the fu##ing balls!?> she complains, flying into the open.

She normally wouldn’t be able to see much in the pitch-black atmosphere, besides the radioactive energy her body emanates. But something is stripping away the thick poisonous atmosphere, the same thing that is causing massive earthquakes: an enormous source of gravity just above the planet, something that she immediately recognizes.

<What the f##k is a black hole doing here!?>

Even Persephone’s formidable power is not nearly enough to keep her safe: as the black hole swallows more and more mass from the planet, its gravity becomes more intense.

Flying away from it at her maximum speed only slows down the process, and for a moment the Queen of the Underworld is certain she’s about to join the dead.

Until something darker than space itself gets in the way: the mass of pitch-black energy that normally surrounds this system’s star has approached the planet.

The only hint about this monster’s form is when it obscures the stars behind it once it rears its head. And then a second head.

And then a third, which grabs the rapidly growing black hole with its fangs.

<Good boy.> Persephone congratulates the monster, breathing a sigh of relief.

All three heads then take a bite out of the artificial celestial object, pulling it into three separate directions. Two heads devour the accretion disk, while the third one swallows the singularity at the center of the black hole.

<Good f##king work, Cerberus.> Persephone praises her planetary-sized pet, her hand caressing the dog’s dark matter fur.

Cerberus makes an incomprehensible sound while looking at the planet, or rather at what’s left of it: the black hole turned a beautiful dark jewel into a collection of rocks the size of small moons.

Gravity is pulling them back together to eventually reform a new planet: there’s no question that if any mortal was present there wouldn’t be anything to bury.

Persephone recognizes the sound Cerberus made: it’s the sadness of losing a home.

She would make a similar one, if her mind wasn’t preoccupied with unbridled rage.

<Don’t worry boy. You’ll get to rip the guts of whatever s##tstain did this to us.>

 

Atlantis

Aegian Galaxy, 2.5 million light-years from Earth

The three gods allied in the invasion are sitting on their own thrones, when Hades hunches over in pain: even this far away, he’s immediately aware of the destruction brought upon his realm.

Erebus isn’t the only planet hit: a thousand worlds in total are painfully swallowed by just as many black holes, and they don’t have Cerberus to intervene.

While there are no mortals living in the Underworld, Hades can feel the destruction of countless shrines and of a million years of history.

<What’s wrong with you?> Poseidon asks his brother, noticing his distress.

<You mean you haven’t felt Null’s retaliatory strike? And you call yourself a god.> Ereshkigal mocks him.

<Retaliatory? The war has not even begun! My ships surround all the planets under that meddlesome mortal’s control: the only reason they haven’t started the planetary bombardment is Hades insisted on issuing his stupid formal declaration of war!> Poseidon yells. Hades composes himself, trying to show no weakness.

<Null has a weapon that can devastate an entire galaxy: this was just a warning shot. We must treat her as if she possessed the power of one of the Nine Gods.> he reasons.

<By Kronos, brother, are you… afraid of a mortal!?>

<Null will not open fire on a galaxy where she could make mortal victims, otherwise she would already have targeted Poseidon. And she won’t dare use the same tactic in her own realm… her sentimental attachment to her fellow mortals is her weakness.> Ereshkigal points out.

<Easy for you to say when you’re not her target. And unlike Poseidon, you haven’t exactly shown your hand. One might think you’re using our alliance to your advantage, Ereshkigal.>

<Of course I am. But we will all benefit from the destruction of the blasphemous mortal regime of Olympus, won’t we?>

<Enough talk! Time to unleash the might of our realms. All of my ships will now open fire and my vassals will join the fight: I expect your own vassals to do the same, Hades!>

<They will, Poseidon. What about you, Ereshkigal?>

<You two can play with your little soldiers. I will show you what happens when a true Goddess of Death joins the fight.>

Ereshkigal steps off her own throne, raising her pitch black hand towards the hologram displaying a map of the Olympian Galaxy.

<RISE.> is all she says.

 

Olympus, 28,000 light-years from Earth

Noriko Null, Prime Minister Lyra Syzar and Athena have stepped into the command center of the Executive Palace: Midgard City on Earth may technically be the Empire’s capital, but Olympus still has the infrastructure necessary to run the Galaxy.

A hologram of Enyo is reporting next to an image showing the location of all the realm’s planets:

<Our forces have engaged Poseidon’s fleet. Casualties are minimal so far, but we have not been able to stop the supply of reinforcements: we don’t know how they’re getting here!>

<Judging by the energy signature surrounding the ships, Hades is creating portals to move them between galaxies. Any ideas on how to stop him from doing that?> Noriko asks Athena.

<What would stop your Portal Generators?> she asks back.

<Destroying them.>

<Precisely. Kill Hades and the ships will stop coming.>

<In case you haven’t noticed, Athena, he’s in another freaking Galaxy at this moment!>

<I did not say it would be easy.>

<If Yggdrasil’s attack didn’t force Hades to change his mind, we should try it with Poseidon.> Lyra suggests, much to Noriko’s shock.

<I can’t just drop a black hole on his head!> she objects.

<Why not? You know the location of Atlantis right?>

<Millions of people live on Atlantis, Lyra.>

<And 11 trillions live in the Olympian Galaxy, Null! If we launch a decapitation strike now…>

<That’s out of the question. I won’t destroy an inhabited planet, even if its god is a jerk.>

<I have to agree with Noriko’s assessment, Prime Minister. A black hole wouldn’t hurt Poseidon anyway, and he’s more powerful than his whole army combined. We can win this war if we keep this war confined to just armies and minor gods, but not if Class-1 gods get involved.> Athena confirms.

<So we’re just going to defend ourselves from the invasion and endure!?> Lyra protests.

<I didn’t say that. Enyo, what’s your assessment of Poseidon’s fleet?>

<They have strength in numbers, but our ships are superior. At least those defending the Athenian and former Apollo sectors: the enemy is making significant progress in Aphrodite sector, we have ships protecting less than half of her planets and they’re decidedly inferior.>

<Understood. I want you to go there personally and assist the ships protecting Aphrodite’s planets. Athena, you’ll do the same for Winter Kingdom. I’ll summon the Vanguard to protect the rest, while I come up with a way to stop reinforcements from…>

<Null, we have another problem.> Lyra informs her, having just received a message on her own personal phone.

<Of course we do. What is it?>

<Turn on the news feed.>

A new holographic screen shows a collection of images that are being transmitted from the news networks of various planets across the Empire, from its former capital of Argos to the Athenian Federation to the Winter Kingdom.

They’ve stopped covering the battles between spaceships orbiting their planets, and they’re now showing the horrific view of corpses shambling into cities. Crowds of hundreds of reanimated dead bodies oozing black energies taking revenge on the living.

<Oh my Gaea. He raised the dead.> Lyra gasps.

<No. She raised them.> Noriko comments, her silver eyes shining.

<You don’t believe this is Hades?> Athena asks.

<He despises the idea of the dead coming back to life: that’s part of the reason why he declared war on me in the first place. See that energy? That’s Ichor. This is Ereshkigal’s doing.>

The enormity of the situation hits the command center, which stays silent for a couple of seconds as everyone realizes they’re now fighting three separate empires at once.

<Why are you still here, Athena? You have your orders.> Noriko says, breaking the silence.

<But the dead…>

<They don’t change anything. I know what they’re trying to do, they’re trying to divide our forces and make us feel overwhelmed. I won’t let them do it.> Noriko vows, quickly operating the controls to redirect the news feed and activate a camera on her.

She takes a deep breath, trying not to think too hard about the fact that trillions of people are about to see her. Then she speaks from the heart.

 

Themiscyra, 1 million light-years from Earth

Beyond the borders of the Galaxy, in the intergalactic void, the remains of a fleet annihilated the second it approached the planet are already raining down on the Amazon world.

Millions of android women are ignoring the failed attack, concentrating on the screens that are relaying a message sent from Olympus itself.

<Citizens of the Olympian Empire.> the image of the Mortal Co-Empress calls.

 

Parthenos, 80,000 light-years from Earth
The capital planet of the Athenian Federation is easily the most well-defended not just on this Galaxy, but across the Twelve Galaxies. Between that and the feud between Poseidon and Athena that dates back hundreds of thousands of years, it’s no wonder that a sizeable part of his fleet has been sent to conquer this planet specifically.

Most citizens are not aware of it, too busy dealing with the swarms of reanimated cadavers marching on the streets. Above the sounds of laser rifles and spears piercing through dead flesh, the voice of the Co-Empress is being transmitted everywhere.

<We are under attack from a cowardly enemy…>

 

Delos, 78,000 light-years from Earth

The former capital of the Apollo sector is a strategic target, since it’s all connected to the major industrial and commercial hubs of Helen’s realm. But there are no dead bodies to reanimate, since the local culture requires dead bodies to be shot into the nearest sun.

The system lacks a proper defense, but the Apollo Oracles are still throwing a decent fight: their ability to transform their bodies into any form of light is a unique tactic that Poseidon’s forces didn’t really prepare for.

The constant chants of the priests lamenting the death of their god that normally fill the air have stopped, to hear the voice of Null.

<…that wants to force us back into the old dark days.>

 

Thebes, 65,000 light-years from Earth

The capital world of Helen’s realm and the former capital of Ares’s regime more than welcomes the arrival of both the Poseidon fleet and the army of the dead.

They lived their whole lives in a constant state of war, and finally being able to taste blood has galvanized them. To the point that the Thebans are not just fighting the enemy and the dead, countless pointless battles among regular citizens have already started.

If any of them is listening to Null’s speech, very few truly pay attention to her words.

<We won’t let them. We won’t let them destroy what we’ve all accomplished, together…>

 

Megalopolis, 52,000 light-years from Earth

The former capital world of Hera’s sector is the most populous in the Galaxy, giving enormous fodder to the army of the dead.

Poseidon could have exploited the fact that it’s not particularly well-defended: Hera’s fleet was decimated by previous conflicts, most damagingly the failed invasion by Nephthys and Ilithyia, leaving most of its defense in the hands of the ships supplied by the former Mortal Republic.

But he plans to put his sister back on the throne, albeit subservient to him, so he’s hesitant to completely demolish her cherished planet.

Ereshkigal has no such hesitation: with so many people living here, the potential for death is immense. And the dead would certainly increase their numbers if mortals were left alone.

Luckily for them, they can count on an unexpected ally: the sun goddess Amaterasu is incinerating entire armies of the dead.

<Bad dead people! Bad! I just wanted to look at the coronation, now you made me work!> she complains, interrupting her solar blasts only to look at the giant screen that is transmitting the speech from Olympus.

<…when we took our destiny into our own hands.>

<You tell’em, aunt Nori!> Amaterasu cheers.

 

Aquilia, 25,000 light-years from Earth

Another goddess is busy protecting a world that didn’t expect to see her return.

Vesta has already dealt with the ships in orbit, ripping apart their engines with her own bare hands and forcing them to hastily land. But now she’s flying across the planet that she once ruled to reduce the dead to ashes, protecting the Aquilians whose electric powers are useless against enemies who can’t be electrocuted.

Across all towns, surprisingly advanced radio transmitters are emanating the voice from Olympus:

<When the gods wanted us to retreat, and we held the line.>

 

Argos, 100 light-years from Earth

The Olympian Senate is perhaps the biggest target besides Olympus and Earth, and incredibly well-defended against a conventional attack. Most of its defenses are built to prevent an enemy from deploying troops, but the dead rising from their graves was not a scenario that anyone could have predicted.

Land forces are relatively scarce, but the dead are making very little progress: they’re being quite literally mowed down by a contingent of Demons that appeared without warning.

Torn stands atop a pile of corpses he personally cut into pieces. He creates a Blood sword to bring a severed arm closer to him, inspecting it carefully.

<The Ichor is not able to repair damage, Ereshkigal has spread it too thin. It’s particularly susceptible to Blood attacks; we should mobilize the Armies of Hell to assist the Empire. I shall inform Null once she’s done with the speech.> he informs his fellow Demons, then looks back at the enormous hologram of Noriko Null that is being projected above the Senate.

<Stay strong and fight back the fear.> the hologram instructs.

<It’s a good speech.> Torn nods.

 

Null City, Myridia, 50 light-years from Earth

Perhaps the shortest battle is fought here. Which shouldn’t be surprising, considering every single person on the planet can create up to ten thousand duplicates at will: if there’s a planet in the universe that doesn’t lack fighters, it’s Myridia.

But still, Kari Zel is impressed and proud by the resilience of her people. She remembers too well the time when her planet was resigned to withstand the Demeter regime forever, and seeing it evolve into a proud beacon of hope fills her heart with joy.

With the fight close to being won even before Noriko has finished her speech, her voice resonates in the city where she became known as the Slayer of Gods.

<Don’t let go, don’t back down, hold the line.> they hear from Olympus.

<Don’t back down! Hold the line!> the people of Myridia chant, over and over again.

 

Midgard City, Earth

Even if the city-state in Antarctica is the official capital of the Olympian Empire, Earth itself is not officially considered to be part of the Empire.

This means that most of its defenses are in orbit above the planet, with very few soldiers stationed here. The rest of the planet, with a population density higher than the galactic norm, is otherwise left to defend itself.

That’s a lot of planet for one person to patrol and protect, even if he can move at the speed of light.

<I freaking hate zombies!!!> Quantum exclaims, after changing back to flesh and bone once he’s done incinerating the dead risen from Midgard City’s currently only cemetery.

<I hope you have something planned, Nori, ‘cause I can’t keep this up.> he complains, moving to another part of the planet in the form of a laser beam and missing the end of the speech:

<This war will be their last. Null out.>

 

Olympus, 28,000 light-years from Earth

Noriko Null switches off the transmission, hoping she did a good enough job.

<That was a good speech.> Hebe congratulates her.

<Your Majesty.> Lyra greets the Divine Co-Empress, with a formal bow.

<I’m not sure it’s safe for you to be here, Hebe.>

<Is anywhere safe in our realm, Noriko, until the war is over?>

<Good point. If you’re going to suggest we combine our powers to de-age our enemies, like we did with Hera, I thought of that. We should first make sure Hades, Poseidon and Ereshkigal are not in the same place, because I don’t think we can do it to all three together. But one by one…>

<Before that, Noriko, our priority should be avoiding an escalation.>

<We’re already at war with three galaxies, Hebe, I say it’s a bit late for that!>

<We must summon the Council of the Nine Gods, Noriko. This aggression is in direct violation of the rules; the Council will certainly sanction…>

The Empress is interrupted by an earthquake, something that should be impossible since Olympus was specifically designed to be geologically harmless.

<Now what!?> Noriko exclaims, walking towards the nearest window to look outside.

And her jaw drops: something has approached the planet, something so big to cause massive damage just by its proximity. It’s a terrifying mass of teeth and tentacles the size of a moon.

<That’s Charybdis. Hades has unleashed one of his monsters.> Hebe says, with clear terror on her face. By contrast, Noriko’s expression becomes more resolute as her silver eyes shine.

<Guess a thousand black holes were not enough. Time to teach death a lesson.>