A God's Requiem

The cosmos is but a putrid mess. Immorality reign unchallenged while good people perish akin to dominoes. It's a place where the impossible is done. Humans kill gods, while ignorance is a blessing. However, one day, an old soul escapes his "prison" and becomes Hades Nekrokratēs, The Ebon Sovereign. He is neither the most knowledgeable nor the most talented, but he has one thing going on for him. His boundless Greed. This greed might be the catalyst that will awaken those phantasmagorical beings who stand at the top of everything. *** discord.gg/Ept3v9hMHd While I will probably not talk about r*pe, and such, the story will still be dark with descriptive descriptions of sadness and eldritch elements. There is no need for knowledge of Greek mythology This story is not really a fanfiction, it contains characters from myths and religions, but there are many characters that I have made. The world is a mix of myths, religions and other things that I have invented, thus not everything will be following the myths. I do not own the cover image. I do not own most of the images sent to represent the characters, they are to be taken as only representations of them for the readers to be able to easily imagine them. posted on WebN*vel, Scrib*lehub, RoyalRo*d (not yet)

SnowApathie · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
21 Chs

01: Prologue

"And so, it starts again," uttered a being sitting upon a mountain as if it were but a mundane stool. The rocks were so frigid that even the nearby black holes would envy their icy chill. All around him, the air fluttered with a dark, viscous matter. Small midnight blue orbs danced in the impenetrable darkness, bringing out the void's cold heart.

The sky bore a desolated shade of blue, fully drained of its vibrant hues. However, in stark contrast to this eerie ambiance, countless stars plummeted, leaving enigmatic trails of mystery in their wake.

The air was cold, yet for the being perched above seemingly everything, those gelid temperatures were but trifling matters. He remained motionless, gazing at the marvel in front of him with an enigmatic smile. His pale blue eyes glistened before the slit, so deep one could see an omniverse on the other side.

A myriad of colors seemed to escape from the pit, swirling together to create a vivid painting. It was as if God himself was painting, his brushstrokes so mesmerizing, neither mortals nor divine beings could remain sane after witnessing this scene.

It was as though yin and yang were merging—an impossibility, ushering a new era to the boundless cosmos.

—(Scheolmonth, 1680 B.H)—

Upon the highest mountain in the territory of the Titan Gods, where tyranny ruled, a delicate-looking woman with a pale complexion akin to that of a porcelain doll, which would shatter at the mere fickle of wind, reclined upon a crimson wood bed.

Her anguished cries reverberated throughout the negentropic territory, where order was governed by a merciless fist. The sound waves of her catastrophic voice descended upon the mortal world like the heralding of the end.

Sweats of fatigue and pain trickled down her neck, slowly meandering along her slender form. Her once immaculately straight, stunning black hair, meticulously maintained daily by Theia herself, was now laying wild on the bed.

The ghastly white clouds that surrounded the mountain fled away, revealing the intricate beauty of the divine abode. Countless buildings of a dark red hue, eerily merging with the pungent world, reflected upon their roofs the ethereal azure sky that concealed a majestic golden city.

Gradually, the welkin's blue shades waned, yielding to a dusky pink light as the sun made way for Nyx and her starry night. The woman's final scream echoed throughout the realm where she ruled queen. It was so powerful that even gods in the beyond heard her and comprehended the situation.

"My son…Leto, give me my son" she implored febrile, both her voice and body trembling. She was too fatigued to witness Leto tending to her baby in the hazy background.

Hearing her plea, Leto, a woman with white hair so pure it seemed a blend of the sun and the moon, handed Rhea her strange baby. The very air around him seemed to quiver with an otherworldly substance.

"He is beautiful. Well done, Rhea," she said in a warm voice, gently placing the boy in his mother's arms. Leto looked upon her friend with great joy, seeing her overcome with happiness.

This was what friends were for, always helping each other. Leto in all her kindness even battled her fear of their King to help her friend, for she was sure that her dear friend would do the same. Yet, how misguided she was, for fate spoke of other tales.

A smile blossomed on Rhea's face as she peered into her son's pale blue eyes, whose purity surpassed that of even a newborn. It was as if those eyes could see through the thick darkness that engulfed the esoteric world of the divine.

"He has such beautiful eyes" she whispered waned, her voice tinged with an array of emotions. Her heart swelled in delight, and a tear, holding all her bottled-down emotions, trailed down her cheek like a liberation.

Her liberation was, however, short-lived as her traumatic memories resurfaced. Seeing the innocence in her son's pale blue eyes brought back the harrowing memories of her first daughter's tragic fate. The joyful emotions dissipated with the image of her husband devouring Hestia.

Her clear thinking was back, breaking her. Her life wasn't rosy—no, it was full of thorns, as if Gaea herself had cursed her. Hopelessness crushed down upon her shoulders as she watched her three daughters being swallowed by their father.

Once again, she was engulfed by grief, and her heart shattered into countless already broken pieces. Tears were no longer enough. She felt as though there was a constant rope around her neck, leaving her helpless, unable to alter her cruel destiny.

It was now too late; things wouldn't change.

"I'm sorry, son! I'm terribly sorry for being so pathetically weak!" Her breath ragged, she clenched her right fist so tightly that a golden liquid unknowingly seeped from her wounded palm. The sound reassembled a dying heartbeat.

Her usually luminous eyes now appeared hazy, their once-golden glow obscured by the tears. All she could see was her precious child, who would soon fade away. She focused her waning strength on him, knowing he would soon be taken from her, yet her thoughts didn't stay motionless for long.

She showed him a smile of pure anguish; ichor dribbled from the corners of her lips, which she unintentionally wounded during her emotional turmoil. "I hope your sisters will take good care of you!" she whispered, surrendering to her grim fate. Was her despair written in Ananke's tapestry, or was it just a result of ill fortune?

She knew that ill fortune did not exist, it was just a lie she told herself to shield her cowardice.

Her entire body trembled as she cradled the baby in her soft hands, which were a stark contrast to her coarse life. She held him so tightly, it seemed like she was suffocating, almost prompting Leto to intervene out of concern. "I am such a bad mother!" she cried out once more.

Her never-ending sobs echoed upon the floor with such force, the lowly mortal believed someone was hammering upon the sky.

Amidst her wailing, she found herself walking on memory lane. 'Why did mother Gaea choose him as king?' She asked herself, trying to put the blame of her unspeakable torment on her mother. Yet, even in her despair, she knew the answer to that question.

It was because the rest of the original 12 Titans, herself included, were but a collective of cowards.

It was in such moments that she realized how much she could have done differently. If only Chronos didn't have such rigid rules which seemed so enchaining to someone as lowly as her. If she could go back in time, there were so many things that she would change.

Alas, it was now too late. She wept, her former majesty nowhere to be seen; her divine aura dissipated in Aether's domain.

'If only…' She thought, yet life did not thrive on with 'ifs', for if it did, people would remain stagnant in front of the cosmos' indifference.

Her only hope that this moment would stay forever frozen upon the threads of time, was shattered by the blaring sound of elegant footsteps approaching the room. The woman ceased her tears, staring at the missing horizon with resignation.

She knew she was acting like a coward, unable to even fight for her own son. Yet what else could she do but pray for her mother's aid, which wouldn't appear for a long time?

The door suddenly swung open, and two figures entered. Even though the one at the front was tall, even by Titan's standards, the other one towered over him. Both exuded an aura of power, though one was more frivolous than the other.

The leader possessed white hair as gleaming as an angel's feathers, those beings born from holiness itself. His round pupil mirrored a pure-blue planet. Upon those short blinding hair stood a golden crown adorned with dark blue jewels. Complimenting in a sweeping manner with his majestic appearance, he wore a navy tunic with golden outlines.

The Titan paused, his enigmatic gaze locking with Rhea's eyes. Without uttering a word, he squatted before the bed, his attention shifted to the baby—his son. His eyes betrayed no emotions. "Give him to me," he said to his wife. His voice wasn't one of anger, no he just knew what his rule needed to continue, for him to be able to accomplish his unknown goals, and he would act in accordance to it.

Trembling, Rhea relinquished her son, painfully aware of the inevitable fate awaiting him. She remained silent, for experience had taught her that her words would not alter anything—only inflicting further pain on herself and him.

"Close your eyes" softly said the merciless Titan before raising the baby into the air. A rare emotion now filled his eyes—regret.

"If only he hadn't made that prophecy" uttered Kronos, for even he, the King of Titans, could not affect the ancient laws governing the planet and reigning over the lives of countless, mortals and immortal undifferenced. He spoke only with lament, having long vanquished the hate for his father because he knew that in his shoes, he would have done the same thing. His current actions were proof of that fact.

For the first time, he peered into his son's enigmatic gaze. Their blue eyes were of different shades, yet they seemed so reminiscent of one another, merging together in the pungent world bound by a higher power. He suppressed his longing to raise his own progeny, and opened his mouth. He took one final gaze at his child, "I'm sorry" before swallowing the young boy.

The last thing the baby heard before falling was the anguished shout of his mother, who just woke up from her reverie that was more like a nightmarish daydream.



A.N: I sent the meaning of some words in the paragraphs comments to help some ppl's understanding as for many english is not our first nor second language.

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