Beginning Of Multiverse Saga-Chapter 549: Ares Was Right

In Asgard, the atmosphere was entirely different from the tension brewing in Olympus.

The golden halls shimmered with warmth and celebration. Torches burned brighter than usual, their flames dancing in harmony with laughter that echoed through the palace. Warriors gathered in clusters, raising horns of mead high into the air. The soft, resonant melodies of Bifrost harps filled the background, weaving through the marble corridors like threads of joy.

The reason for it all was simple.

Sharky had brought Astrid home.

At the center of the grand hall, Astrid sat securely in Sif’s arms, animatedly recounting her "adventure" with the innocent exaggeration of a child.

"I didn’t even cry!" she declared proudly. "Not even once! And I wasn’t scared... not really!"

Sif held her tighter with every word, tears streaming down her face despite the smile that would not leave it.

"...my brave girl," she whispered, her voice trembling between laughter and sobs.

Hela stood nearby, her usually cold demeanor softened. A faint green glow shimmered in her palm as she quietly scanned Astrid’s soul, ensuring no lingering curse or corruption had taken root during her captivity. After a moment, she exhaled subtly and gave a small nod.

"She is untouched," Hela said calmly. "No shadow remains."

Frigga stepped forward and embraced both mother and child, her presence radiating ancient maternal warmth that seemed to calm even the restless energy of the hall.

Odin approached Sharky, his one eye reflecting wisdom and quiet pride. He placed a firm hand upon Sharky’s shoulder.

"You have done what even gods could not," Odin said solemnly. "For that, Asgard stands with you... no matter what storm comes next."

The words carried weight.

Around them, warriors saluted Sharky with respect that bordered on reverence. Some struck their shields in rhythmic tribute, others raised their drinks in acknowledgment of his strength and devotion.

Sigurd, cradled nearby, watched Astrid with wide, curious eyes, occasionally letting out soft coos as if trying to understand the excitement.

For the first time in a few years, Sif’s smile was unguarded and radiant.

Asgard felt whole again. At least for this moment.

Above the celebration, the auroras shimmered peacefully across the sky—unaware that beyond the realms, darker currents were already beginning to stir.

---

Meanwhile, in the radiant halls of Olympus, Hera stood alone upon her balcony of ivory stone, her gaze fixed upon the distant horizon. The air felt different—subtle currents of conspiracy and restrained hostility weaving through the divine realm. She had already sensed it.

Zeus and Ares had spoken in secrecy, and the storm in their hearts was not directed at a foreign Titan or ancient beast.

It was directed at Sharky. Her expression hardened.

"No... They will not harm him."

Her voice carried quiet authority, the kind that once commanded gods into silence. Though she spoke softly, divine power rippled outward from her like invisible waves.

Hera closed her eyes and extended her will.

Through bonds once forged in passion, in alliance, in shared secrets and hidden nights—she sent a silent call. A golden pulse spread across Olympus.

It shimmered through gardens, across moonlit terraces, through temples and sacred chambers.

One by one—

They answered.

Athena appeared first, descending from a shimmer of silver light. Her armor gleamed faintly, her eyes sharp and fierce. Calm on the surface, yet protective beneath it.

Artemis followed, stepping out from a shadowed corridor of moonlight. Her grip tightened around her bow, jaw set, possessiveness flashing briefly in her gaze.

Demeter manifested next, gentle radiance surrounding her form. Worry softened her features, but beneath it lay the resolve of a mother who understood loss too well.

Persephone emerged from a swirl of dim twilight petals. Her expression was quiet, yet anger simmered beneath the surface. The shadows at her feet shifted restlessly.

Hestia appeared in a warm glow of hearth-light. Soft, serene, but unwavering as eternal flame.

Aphrodite materialized in a faint shimmer of rose-gold. Her lips trembled slightly, desire and anxiety mixing in her expression, emotions far more complicated than she allowed others to see.

From the darker edges of the gathering, Keres knelt immediately upon arrival, head lowered in silent loyalty.

Enyo arrived last, stepping from a ripple of crimson aura. She bit her lip unconsciously, conflict written across her face—torn between allegiance and something far more personal she dared not name.

The terrace fell silent.

Golden light flickered around Hera as she looked at them all.

Hera’s gaze swept across the gathered goddesses, her expression no longer regal and distant, but resolute.

She gave a slow nod.

"Ares has remembered the past," she said calmly, though the weight of her words settled heavily over them. "The sealed memories have returned. He knows that we... spent time with Sharky. He has already told Zeus."

A faint ripple of tension passed through the terrace.

"They will come for him," Hera continued. "Perhaps not openly at first. But they will move."

Athena’s eyes darkened, calculating rapidly. Artemis’s fingers tightened around her bowstring, the faint hum of lunar energy flickering around her.

"We will protect him," Artemis said without hesitation, her voice sharp and firm.

"No matter what," Persephone added quietly, though the shadows at her feet deepened in silent agreement.

Demeter’s expression softened with worry, but she nodded as well. Hestia’s flame-like aura flickered gently, steady and unwavering.

Aphrodite lowered her gaze briefly, her emotions turbulent, yet when she looked up again, there was determination beneath the softness. Even Enyo, conflicted and silent, did not object.

Hera raised her hand, silencing the murmurs before they could rise.

"Prepare yourselves," she said. "Olympus is shifting. The balance is no longer stable. If Zeus chooses pride over wisdom... war may come."

The golden air seemed heavier now.

None of them spoke further.

From the farthest edge of the terrace, where marble columns cast long shadows, a presence lingered unseen.

Hermes watched silently from a shadowed corner. Silver eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness as he recorded every word, every expression, every flicker of intent.

---

Deep within the blood-soaked War Sanctuary of Ares, crimson torches burned with unnatural intensity. Their flames did not flicker like ordinary fire; they writhed like living things, casting distorted shadows across walls carved with scenes of endless slaughter.

At the center of the chamber stood Ares.

Beneath his feet, an enormous summoning circle glowed in molten red, ancient runes carved into the stone pulsing like veins beneath skin. He gripped his flaming spear so tightly that sparks showered from its tip, and the air around him trembled with barely restrained violence.

His rage was no longer a mere emotion.

It had become volcanic.

"Sharky Valor..." Ares growled, his voice echoing through the sanctuary like a war drum in the depths of hell. "I will tear you apart."

He drove the spear downward.

The impact shattered the ground with a deafening crack. The summoning circle ignited fully, red fissures spreading outward as though the earth itself had split open in obedience.

From those fissures, shapes began to rise.

The first were the Spartoi War-Spirits—skeletal warriors born from dragon teeth, their hollow eye sockets burning with cursed light. Each gripped a jagged spear forged from battlefield remnants, the air around them thick with the scent of ancient slaughter.

Behind them crawled the Phobetor Nightmare Beasts, shadowed monstrosities shaped from mortal fear. Their bodies shifted between forms—horned, winged, clawed—never fully solid, their existence sustained by terror itself.

Then came the thunder of metal against stone.

The Automata of Hephaestus emerged from the depths—towering bronze giants with furnace cores blazing within their chests. Flames roared behind iron grates, and gears shrieked as they moved. Once forged for Olympus’s defense, they now stood under Ares’s stolen command.

A guttural howl followed.

Cyclopean Hounds leapt forth, one-eyed hellbeasts with molten iron jaws dripping sparks and smoke. Their claws carved trenches into the stone as they circled their master.

Finally, figures clad in scales stepped from the crimson glow—Gorgon-Blooded Soldiers. Their skin shimmered faintly, teeth sharp enough to bite through stone, venom glistening at the tips of their claws.

The sanctuary filled with the sound of growls, grinding metal, and spectral whispers. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Ares raised his spear once more, his aura expanding like a storm of blood-red lightning.

"Gather, children of war!" he roared. "Prepare for blood! Sharky took my son—"

His eyes burned with unrestrained fury.

"I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM HIM!"

The monsters howled in unison, their cries merging into a single war-chant that shook the sanctuary’s pillars. The ground trembled violently as their combined aura surged upward.

Behind Ares, a dark red shadow gathered—thick, heavy, shaped vaguely like a towering specter of carnage.

---

Within the high throne room of Olympus, towering pillars of radiant white stone rose toward a ceiling veined with living lightning. Divine fire burned steadily along the walls, casting a golden glow across the vast chamber. At the center, upon a throne carved from storm-cloud marble and thunder-forged metal, Zeus sat in silence.

His fingers tapped slowly against the armrest.

Each tap carried the faint rumble of distant thunder.

The air was tense. Then a streak of golden light flashed across the hall.

The space before the throne blurred, and Hermes emerged from the distortion, landing lightly upon one knee. His usual playful expression was gone; in its place stood sharp focus and restrained caution.

"Father," Hermes said solemnly, head bowed, "I have witnessed something... and recorded it."

Zeus leaned forward slightly. Lightning crackled faintly through his beard, sparks dancing along its strands like restless serpents.

"Speak," he commanded.

Hermes did not hesitate.

"Hera has gathered them in secret," he reported. "Athena. Artemis. Demeter. Persephone. Hestia. Aphrodite. Even Keres and Enyo. They convened in secrecy."

A pause.

"They swore to protect Sharky Valor."

Hermes continued carefully, "All of them... love him."

Zeus froze.

For a brief moment, the entire throne room fell into unnatural silence. Even the divine flames along the pillars seemed to shrink.

Then—

BOOM!

A bolt of lightning exploded beside the throne, cracking the marble floor and sending shards flying outward. Thunder rolled violently through the chamber.

Zeus rose slowly.

"HERA..." His voice was no longer calm. It had become a gathering storm. "Has betrayed me?"

His eyes blazed white. "All my daughters... side with an outsider?!"

The sheer pressure of his aura made the pillars tremble. Hermes lowered his head further, though he answered without flinching.

"Yes," he said carefully. "Ares... was right."

Zeus’s hands tightened into fists. The veins along his forearms bulged as lightning coursed across his skin.

Jealousy burned within him. Rage coiled like a serpent. Confusion gnawed beneath the fury.

For the first time in centuries, the King of Olympus felt something unfamiliar— Loss of control.