Aaron Zeiss was a simple man with simple wants and simple needs. He had people he cared for. A job he hated. A boss that never took no for an answer.

Aaron was a very normal person, which was why he only accepted a stream of information from Lord Hope with great reluctance. Unsurprisingly, the missive asked Aaron to act against the five corrupted deities supervising the Ouroboros.

It was difficult being so normal when Aaron had once the boss of the entire world. Worse still was working for the stupid fox that had undermined him so many centuries ago and had forced him into what was effectively a slave contract.

Yes, he was touted as the Nameless Hero. Yes, he’d gotten to save a lot of his favorite descendants. But there was really no substitute for power and the intricate games of chess that had once been so popular amongst the gods.

“There’s been a change of plans,” said Aaron to the five corrupted deities. “A breach has occurred in the Underworld. The Gate of the Underworld in Olympia is collapsing, and its sister gate in Mattapan is experiencing instabilities.

“Capri. Jib. You’ll need to mobilize immediately to make sure the instabilities don’t lead to a total collapse of the Nether Plane.

Capri, with his powerful pincers, resembled more a lobster than a man. He’d never liked Aaron, and the feeling was mutual. Back in his heyday, Aaron would have crushed the sad excuse for a deity and recycled his precious divinity.

“And is that an order from above?” the lobster deity asked mockingly. “A direct message from Lord Hope through his faithful conduit?”

“Of course,” said Aaron with a smile. “As Assistant Regional Manager of Pandora—”

“Assistant to the regional manager in this case,” interrupted the youthful man named Jib. “Please don’t exaggerate your worth, Aaron. Your true name is gone, making you unworthy of our presence. In fact, I’m sure it won’t be long until one of us is made the direct conduit.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Yes, like that was going to happen. Lord Hope needed someone capable to assist him. More than that, he needed someone who spoke the language. Someone who understood his intentions without having to be told, and thereby bypass the heavy shackles binding the most powerful evil in existence.

“Relax, Jib,” assured Aaron. “I have no desire for power. Lord Hope’s instructions are clear: this instability is a priority. I am to mobilize two deities in order stabilize the situation.

“I chose Capri because his crafting skills will enable him to make impromptu repairs to Underworld Gate’s divine structure. I chose Jib due to his mastery over life energies and his resistance to nether energies.”

Also, he didn’t like them; if the gate collapsed as planned, the two sad excuses for deities would probably kick the bucket.

“Fine,” said Capri. “But not because you said so.”

“It won’t be long now before it’s you who comes asking us for direction,” added Jib. The duo vanished, leaving three Aaron with three bored deities and a very confused Ouroboros who was still undecided about how he should utilize the impressive formation he’d laid atop Mount Olympus.

The official plan, according to the snake, was to infuse life and death energies into Mount Olympus, fixing some of its damage and creating a paradise for Flesh-Sanctification cultivators in Olympia.

The variable was how much power he mustered for this operation, ranging from helpful to catastrophic. And thanks to the Original Sin of the Gods, the five baby deities hadn’t even considered that the half-dead snake might be smarter than them.

It’s like herding cats, thought Aaroon as he extrapolated the visible formation and confirmed the contents of the second formation. Its purpose was to enact vengeance on mankind for abandoning and ostracizing the myths.

It was a sentiment Aaron could get behind.

The only problem was that stupid oath he’d taken to protect Olympia, Mount Olympus, and by extension, the Inner City. It was ironic that something he’d sworn over three thousand years ago in exchange for absolute power would come back to bite him in this fashion, but that was life, he supposed.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Manipulating baby deities was much easier than manually circumventing said oaths, which was why a little bit of good-old-fashioned goading was in order.

“River, would you be so kind as to assist Ratten in restricting the River Styx?” asked Aaron. “I don’t think Ratten’s putting his heart into fixing the thing, and I’d hate for Olympia’s foundation to shatter due to his ineptitude.”

It was a light jab at River’s relative lack of flexibility compared to the deity he’d cannibalized his authority from, Poseidon. Himler joined in on the jab. “Aaron makes a valid point, River. Your authority might come in handy. It’s Styx we’re dealing with.”

“You both know perfectly well that Styx isn’t a river,” snapped River. “It’s a Leyline of spirituality and death, more a Divine Kingdom than anything else.”

“But Aaron makes a good point,” said Angelic. “If it must be one of us that must go, you’re the most suitable. None of us have your power. None of us have your courage.” She sighed. “Really, I’m nothing better than a glorified messaging service. As for poor Himler, he’s a lover, not a fighter. Last I checked, Ratten was still pining for the goddess he keeps on auctioning off to the highest bidder.”

“Look, it’s not that I’m unwilling, but that it’s impossible,” snapped River. “In fact, shouldn’t it be up to you, Aaron, to control your slacking brother? Weren’t you both kings in the past or something? I can’t seem to remember for some reason.”

Finally, thought Aaron as he displayed a ferocious expression. “You dare mock me, River? Aren’t you afraid of what I might do to you once I finally escape these chains?”

River chuckled. “What can I say. I like living on the edge. Yet my point remains: can you or can’t you solve the issue.”

“It’s not a matter of whether I can solve it or not, but whether it’s the best use of my considerable talents,” said Aaron stiffly. “Ouroboros might have agreed to cooperate, but its difficult to be certain of its intentions. It is duplicitous by nature.”

“Bah, as if a half-dead god can’t do anything to us,” said River. “Its core is gone, and its only a matter of time until its remaining energy is spent.”

“Even so—"

“Quiet Aaron,” said Angelica. “Real gods are speaking. In fact, aren’t you basically our lapdog. If I remember correctly, all it takes is a majority vote from approved deities to force you to act.”

Here it comes!

“I motion for Aaron Zeiss to journey to the Undercity and actively support Ratten in fixing the Gate of the Underworld,” said River. The chains binding Aaron tightened slightly, but not enough to force him to do anything.”

“I second the motion,” said Angelica. “And I would like to clarify that moral support is not active support,” said Angelica. “Aaron shall use what little powers he’s squirreled away over the past few decades to accomplish this.”

The chains tightened further. Aaron could barely suppress his glee.

“I third the motion and would like to further clarify that he must mobilize the lightning gate and utilize the power he squirreled away without authorization.”

Aaron gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Lighting crackled in the sky. He resisted their commands with everything he could muster. After all, he had other obligations pulling him in a separate direction. He had no choice but to try to escape these new orders.

“Might I remind you all that my powers are notoriously incompatible with Ratten’s?” barked Aaron. “There will be consequences if I mobilize the Lightning Gate. Its source power will be drained. The entire protective net will be weakened.”

Which was exactly what the three of them wanted. How else would they flaunt their superiority. “We understand the ramifications, Aaron, but we agree that its for the greater good,” said Angelica. “Plus, isn’t this killing two birds with one stone? Ratten’s been too greedy. Someone has to drain away the power he drained from the Ouroboros.”

“Agreed,” said River.

“Agreed,” said Himler.

And just like that, the chains strengthen, allowing Aaron to leverage their will to overcome the more ancient restrictions preventing him from sabotaging Olympia.

“It… shall… be done…” said Aaron through gritted teeth. Inwardly, he rejoiced. Hope was a tricky thing to work with. It could be used to manipulate, but the manipulated had to really want something for the manipulation to be successful.

Looking positively funeral, Aaron raised his hand and accepted lightning from the sky. The crackling dome over Olympia faded to produce a bolt-shaped spear, the legendary weapon that had slain the Titans and their allies, the Outworlders.

Then, as demanded of his superiors, Aaron pierced through the void and headed towards the independent space that housed the Undercity and the Gate of the Underworld.

The process took only a fraction of a second, but that was more than enough for Aaron to send a spiritual pulse to the Ouroboros, a being that encroached on space and time, transmitting something to the dying creature that Pandora’s baby deities had been trying to obtain for centuries: the passkey to Mount Olympus and the corresponding authority to mobilize the fragments of the Divine Prison.

A flash of hatred from the Ouroboros was all the confirmation Aaron needed to know that both his and Lord Hope’s plans would proceed without a hitch. The Gates of Death and the Lightning Cage would no longer exist after Aaron and Ratten had their way. A convergence like none other would occur, leading to the emergence of Pandora’s Box and what Aaron always desired: A way out of this dreadful world.

Because Aaron was done with responsibility. Done with protecting ungrateful descendants.

If they survived Aaron’s ascension, good for them. But if they didn’t… well, there was no better use for disobedient children than to serve as building blocks for their creator’s ascension.