A shimmering portal materialized at the entrance of the Grand Mausoleum, its soft glow casting fleeting shadows on the stone. Alex stepped through, his form now human. The familiar weight of the world settled on his shoulders, but his gaze remained unwavering as he surveyed the scene before him. The sun was little more than a sliver on the horizon, its dying light swallowed by the encroaching night.
"The night is coming soon," he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. His hand instinctively drifted toward the hilt of Phalar Aluve, the sword now bound to him in more ways than one. Thin, ethereal tendrils of moonlight rippled across its surface, like whispers of a living entity stirred by the approach of darkness. The glow intensified with each passing second, as if the blade itself yearned for the night, waiting for the moon's rise.
Alex closed his eyes, feeling the pulsating connection between him and Eilistraee, the goddess who had blessed the weapon—and him. He could tap into her divine essence whenever needed, a wellspring of power that surged within his grasp. But there were limits; his mortal frame could only bear so much before it cracked under the strain. And yet, he knew he would need her strength soon. Ketheric was waiting, stripped of his immortality but no less dangerous. Alex suspected Ketheric had more cards up his sleeve, some dark ace hidden from plain sight.
His brow furrowed as he felt a strange pulse from the sword. "What's this?" he muttered, drawing the blade with a smooth, practiced motion. Phalar Aluve gleamed in the twilight, but something new had marred its otherwise perfect form. A faint, darkened scar ran near the base of the blade—a blemish amidst the silvery light. The tendrils of moonlight danced around it, as though containing the darkness, preventing it from spreading further.
He traced a finger along the scar, feeling a pulse—weak, but persistent. The darkness was lurking beneath the surface, a remnant of Shar’s taint, yet unable to fully corrupt the sword thanks to Eilistraee’s influence. But Alex knew better than to leave such things unchecked.
His chest opened, revealing the orb housed within— pulsing with hunger and energy. The orb's very presence throbbed with a desire to consume, to take in the dark power trapped within the scar. But Alex hesitated. Not this time. He wouldn’t let the orb feed on it. Instead, he focused his will, channeling the energy within the orb .
A tendril of darkness extended from the orb, snaking toward the scar on the blade, cautiously, like a predator sizing up its prey. The tendril wrapped around the scar, and the energy began to shift. The dark essence that once belonged to Shar's avatar no longer fought against the light of Eilistraee. It blended, merged—becoming one with the sword. The base of Phalar Aluve darkened, like a blade of pure night fused with moonlight, the balance between light and shadow, power and restraint.
The sword hummed in his hand, a harmonious blend of divine light and dark power.
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Alex stood in the eerie silence of the cave, its oppressive darkness broken only by the faint, pulsating glow of the hydras before him. The once grotesque pit, filled with rotting corpses discarded by necromancers, was now completely empty—its grisly contents used to create something far more sinister. Four hydras, their massive, snake-like bodies coiled around him, their heads bowed low as if paying respect to their creator. Their reddish exoskeletons gleamed faintly, reflecting the dim light of the cave, their forms covered in jagged, armor-like plating that seemed to pulse with unnatural life.
The hydras’ mouths, splitting sideways in a grotesque fashion, revealed rows of serrated teeth along their tongues, twitching with anticipation. Their tongues, equipped with even more jagged spikes, flicked restlessly, eager for the destruction they were bred to unleash. They exuded an aura of primal menace, their long, sinuous bodies seemingly endless, disappearing into the ground as if they had no physical limits. Even in stillness, their forms radiated power—each one a deadly, living weapon forged from the remains of the damned.
A soft, low hum reverberated through the cavern as Alex raised his hand, mentally commanding his creations. Without hesitation, the hydras responded, their massive forms sinking seamlessly into the earth, as if the ground itself welcomed their descent. The cave trembled as they burrowed into the depths, leaving only faint cracks where they had once stood, their presence now hidden beneath the surface. Somewhere far away, the ground would soon erupt, and the hydras would emerge—an unstoppable force bound by Alex’s will.
"That mind worm would have a hell of a fight," Alex muttered, his voice filled with cold satisfaction as he watched his creations vanish.
The hydras, much like the horrors that came before them, were not simply beasts of war. Each one embodied the destructive nature of his power, with their massive, snake-like bodies burrowing through earth and stone, lying in wait for their moment to strike. Their ravenous mouths, lined with serrated, shark-like teeth, would split open with terrifying speed, ready to devour anything unlucky enough to come near.
With their ability to burrow, they could ambush their enemies from below, their massive, muscular forms erupting from the ground with terrifying force. The necromancers had tossed away the dead, but Alex had repurposed them into something more horrifying—living weapons with thick, armored exoskeletons designed to endure and outlast even the most hardened warriors.
The hydras were gone now, heading toward their target—Moonrise Towers. Soon, the ground beneath the enemy would tremble, and Alex knew that when they struck, they would leave nothing but devastation in their wake.
"Bullet, I'm sending you some reinforcements," Alex sent a mental message to the land shark.
"Thank you, Alex," the land shark replied.
Alex walked through the tunnel before him and disappeared into the darkness.
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The recently dug cave was dimly lit by floating silvery orbs, casting ethereal shadows on the walls. Conversations buzzed around the room, as plans were being made and strategies discussed in low voices. Suddenly all talk halted.
A figure stepped inside—tall, imposing, and clad in pristine white armor. Alex stood there, his gleaming armor radiating with divine energy, stark and almost too pure for the grim cave setting. His presence was commanding, exuding an otherworldly power, his aura undeniable, almost suffocating. The chamber fell into a stunned silence, and everyone exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift.
Each step he took reverberated through the cavern, echoing as though announcing something monumental was about to unfold, people move to the side making way for him. Alex stopped in the middle of the room, standing before his allies and comrades, his head bowed slightly. His face was hidden beneath his stark white helm, but the weight of what he was about to reveal hung heavy in the air. He reached up, placing his gauntleted hands on the sides of his helmet.
In one deliberate motion, Alex removed it, and the anticipation in the room thickened like mist. The atmosphere shifted, every heartbeat seeming to slow, eyes fixed on him as the helm came off.
The face beneath the helmet . His hair, once a dark brunette, had turned into a cascade of milky white strands, softly glowing with a faint silvery hue. His eyes—once merely blue—now shimmered with the same silver light, their sharp gaze filled with the essence of something far beyond human comprehension. His face, though familiar, was now marked by something… divine.
“I am Zeus,” Alex said, his voice calm yet filled with a power that resonated through every soul in the room, each word sending ripples through the crowd.
Alfira, was frozen. The lute slipped from her grip and hit the ground with a soft thud, completely forgotten. Her wide eyes filled with disbelief as she stared at Alex—no, at Zeus. The sweet, gentle man who had sung songs by the fire with her, who had laughed and shared stories, was now revealed as the being the abomination that was Zeus.
“W-what?” Alfira stammered, her voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “You were… him all along?” Her mind spun.
Ellyka, narrowed her gaze. Her instincts had told her something was off about Alex for a long time. She had sensed the weight of something more behind his actions, but never in her wildest suspicions had she imagined this truth. She said nothing, her usually sharp tongue stilled as she stared at him, her thoughts racing. She wasn’t hurt, not angry, just stunned—struggling with the idea that the creature that had made her skin crawl, that evoked terror in the hearts of many, had such a… human side.
“I wonder who is the real him,” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible, more to herself than anyone else. The duality of Alex and Zeus left her shaken, confused, and… intrigued.
Jaheira crossed her arms, her chestnut-colored eyes narrowing as she processed the revelation. She had seen many things in her long life, fought alongside many strange allies, but this… this was unexpected, even for her.
"So… this is the truth of it," she said slowly, her voice steady. “All this time, you were hiding your true nature. A dangerous game to play, boy.” Her words carried no anger, only a deep understanding of the risks that came with hiding such power. Beneath her calm exterior, a flicker of admiration stirred. She had always respected those who could wear many masks, and now she saw that Alex had worn the most dangerous one of all.
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Halsin stood nearby, watching with quiet understanding. He had known the truth—that Alex was, in fact, Zeus—but even he couldn’t help but feel a surge of awe at seeing him like this. To see him fully revealed, standing tall in his divine form, filled Halsin with a mixture of reverence and calm acceptance.
“Alex,” Halsin said softly, nodding his head in respect. His tone was warm, no judgment, just the quiet serenity that the druid often carried. Power came in many forms, and Halsin had always respected nature’s many faces. He looked upon Alex now with that same respect, understanding the gravity of what was being revealed.
Zevlor, the tiefling leader, his face etched with disbelief. His mind reeled, trying to reconcile what he had just heard. "By the hells..." he muttered. "But I saw them... I saw them stand side by side. How could...?" His mind fought to make sense of it, remembering moments where Alex and Zeus had appeared in the same space, as though they were separate. Now, to learn they were the same entity—his shock was palpable.
Isobel stood beside Aylin, their hands intertwined. Isobel's silver eyes widened as she realized the magnitude of the revelation. She hadn’t known—she had never suspected.
“To be in the presence of a god’s chosen…” she whispered, her voice filled with awe.
Aylin, beside her, whispered softly into Isobel’s ear, her brow furrowed. “Why is everyone so shaken?” Aylin asked, her tone curious yet untouched by the gravity of the revelation. Her divine nature had long accustomed her to such things.
Isobel smiled softly, tightening her grip on Aylin’s hand. “Not everyone stands before a god without trembling, my love.”
Aylin nodded thoughtfully, choosing to remain silent, though her eyes lingered on Alex, assessing him, measuring his divine nature against her own.
The ones who had known all along—Astarion, Lae’zel, Karlach, Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart—remained calm, their expressions revealing little surprise but much satisfaction.
Astarion, grinned broadly, his fangs gleaming in the dim light. “Ah, the grand reveal,” he mused, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Always fun to watch people pick their jaws off the floor.” He chuckled to himself, savoring the reactions around him.
Lae’zel stood with her arms crossed, nodding once with satisfaction. “Finally, the mask is removed,” she said in her cold, pragmatic tone. “No more hiding.” There was no awe in her voice, only the clinical acknowledgment of power.
Karlach grinned wide, her fiery spirit undimmed. “I told ya, didn’t I? He would return !” She laughed heartily, breaking the tension with her exuberance, her eyes flashing with excitement at the unfolding chaos.
Gale, simply inclined his head, his thoughts already turning over the implications of what this revelation meant for their future. There was no shock in his expression.
Wyll smiled softly, admiring the courage it took for Alex to reveal himself so openly. “Takes courage to show your true face,” he murmured, his tone laced with respect.
Shadowheart's gaze remained fixed on Alex, her lips curving into a soft smile. “The truth comes out at last,” she whispered, her voice quiet but filled with emotion.
From the corner of the room, Glut and Lump watched, unimpressed, their eyes flicking between the peoples in the chamber.
The hunter stood next to them his head on his paws , eyes closed.
“He really likes attention, doesn’t he?” Glut murmured, his voice filled with dry amusement as he watched the drama unfold before him.
Lump gave a guttural grunt, unimpressed. “Big deal. We knew that already,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
As the room buzzed with a low hum of emotions—shock, awe, disbelief, and contemplation—the reality of Alex’s words set in. He was no mere mortal. He was Zeus. And now, with his true identity revealed, the weight of what was to come hung heavy in the air.
The chamber, filled with a heavy silence just moments before, began to stir again as Wyll broke the tension. He stepped closer to Alex, his eyes curious, the fire of battle still burning behind them.
“What happened after we left?” Wyll asked, his voice steady but laced with anticipation. His gaze traced the now-imposing figure of Alex, helmet already back in place, his white armor gleaming under the dim light.
“I fought the Avatar,” Alex replied, his voice calm, almost too calm for the weight of the revelation, “and I won.”
Murmurs could be heard around the room cause by his proclamation.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Wyll’s mouth. “Of course you did,” he said, his voice filled with a strange mix of admiration and expectation. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
Before anyone else could speak, Lae’zel stepped forward, her curiosity plain on her fierce face. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she eyed him with the unblinking intensity of a warrior. “The battle must have been extraordinary,” she said. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the lingering tension in the room. “I would like to hear more details of it.”
Before Alex could get a word out, Karlach charged forward with her characteristic exuberance, wrapping a muscular arm around Alex’s neck, tugging him closer with ease. Her broad grin was as fiery as her dragon heart, her energy filling the room. She had to lower herself slightly, as she stood a little taller than him.
“I can’t wait to hear how you beat that bitch goddess, Shar!” Karlach’s voice was filled with excitement, and there was a wild gleam in her eyes. “And don’t you think for a moment I forgot—you said you’d tell us who you really are. I 'am still waiting , big man.” Her grip on his neck was firm but affectionate, her warmth radiating through the cold air of the chamber.
“How could I forget?” Alex replayed his voice soft.
Gale stood off to the side, his sharp mind already piecing together the implications of Alex’s victory. He smiled warmly, his admiration evident. “You continue to reach greater heights, Alex,” Gale said, his voice filled with genuine respect. “Every time, you surpass the last.”
As the room began to hum with conversations, Shadowheart moved closer, her face soft but tinged with concern. In her hand, the fractured mirror shimmered briefly. Her eyes searched Alex’s form, her voice filled with care. “Are you hurt?” she asked quietly, her fingers tracing the edges of the mirror.
“I’m fine, Shadowheart,” Alex reassured her, meeting her gaze. “I’m great.”
Shadowheart’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as she inspected him from head to toe. Satisfied, she let out a soft breath, and the mirror in her hand shimmered before disappearing once more. There was a silent trust between them, and Shadowheart’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile.
Astarion, standing near the back with his usual nonchalance, couldn’t resist a comment. His crimson eyes flicked over Alex’s shining white armor, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “So, Champion of Eilistraee,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I must admit, I preferred the darker look. This much white? It hurts my eyes.” He waved a hand dismissively as though shielding himself from the brightness.
A soft chuckle escaped Alex’s lips, the sound easing some of the remaining tension in the room.
“What?” he asked, noticing his companions exchanging looks with one another. They had been watching him closely, as though waiting for something.
Karlach was the first to speak again, her voice hesitant for once. “Your emotions... they’re back?” she asked, her eyes searching his face for confirmation.
The weight of that question hanging in the air. “Yes,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “And before you ask—I’m still affected by Minthara’s death. But not for much longer.”
A silence followed. The pain in his voice, though brief, was unmistakable. His friends exchanged glances but chose not to press further. They understood the depth of the grief he still carried, and none of them wanted to push him when the wound was still so fresh.
Jaheira cleared her throat, stepping forward with her usual no-nonsense demeanor. “Sorry to interrupt this sweet moment,” she began, her voice firm but not unkind, “but in case you don't know we’ve got a battle looming closer and closer.”
The group turned their attention back to the gravity of the situation, their camaraderie momentarily put aside. Alex took a step forward, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in each face, each ally who had stood by his side through countless dangers. His next words fell like hammers.
“I’m going to fight Ketheric Thorm by myself,” Alex proclaimed, his voice unwavering, filled with the authority of a divine being. The room fell into complete silence, a stunned stillness overtaking them all.
But before anyone could voice their objections, Alex raised a hand to silence them. “The rest of you will not stand idle,” he continued. “You will attack the colony underneath.”
No one dared to speak immediately, still processing the weight of his words. The silence was thick, punctuated only by the quiet breathing of those gathered.
Finally, Gale stepped forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “Why don’t you want us to come with you?” he asked, his voice calm but filled with curiosity. He knew Alex must have had a reason, but he needed to understand it.
“Ketheric knows we’re going to attack him,” Alex explained, his voice matter-of-fact. “He’s prepared something against us. If you come, you’ll be walking into whatever trap he’s laid. But I can withstand it.”
Gale nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. He knew that if there was some deadly trap awaiting them, Alex would have the best chance of surviving it.
Zevlor stepped forward next, his voice rough. “What about the mind worm?” he asked, his concern for the safety of his comrades clear in his voice.
Alex’s gaze shifted toward the ground, and at that moment, the chamber trembled. The tremors died down as quickly as they had started.
“It’s dead,” Alex said simply, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His voice was calm, as though slaying such a monstrous threat was just another task to be completed.
Zevlor exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Less fighting,” he muttered to himself. “Less chance for my people to get hurt.”
Jaheira wasted no time, rallying the Harpers around them. “You heard him!” she shouted, her voice filled with the fire of an experienced leader. “Time to eat some grilled squid!”
The room buzzed with newfound energy as the Harpers moved to ready themselves for the coming battle. But amidst the chaos, Aylin stepped forward, her steps purposeful as she closed the distance between herself and Alex. She stopped just a few feet from him, her silvery eyes burning with righteous fury.
“I’m coming with you,” Aylin said, her voice steady, unyielding. There was no room for negotiation in her tone, only determination. The weight of her words pressed heavily in the air between them.
Alex knew well what she had endured—over a hundred years of torment under Balthazar’s cruel hand, all because Ketheric Thorm had made her the object of his twisted hate. Aylin had been tortured, broken, because she was a child of Selûne and had been the lover of Isobel, the daughter Ketheric had failed to protect, the daughter that had died in his hands. That torment had burned within her, fueling her desire for vengeance.
“As an aasimar,” Aylin continued, her voice fierce, “you must understand the calling to slay the evil that Ketheric Thorm is.”
Alex nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her. Even if he refused, Aylin would come regardless. There was a fire in her that could not be extinguished.
"I understand," Alex said quietly, locking eyes with her. He could have argued that he wasn’t an aasimar, but now wasn’t the time for that.
And so, as the party began to ready themselves for the final confrontation, the weight of what was to come pressed heavily on them all. The battle ahead would determine not just their fates, but the fate of the realm. And in the silence of the cave, as plans were whispered and weapons were prepared, one thing was certain—Alex, the man who had once been their companion, now revealed as Zeus, would stand at the heart of it all.