Orion's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "You underestimate him," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This is no ordinary mortal. The violet energy he wields is not of this world, nor is it of any realm we know. It is... something else. Something ancient and primal. If left unchecked, it could unravel the very threads of creation."

A soft chuckle broke the tension, and all eyes turned to Loki, his form shifting and flickering like a flame. "Oh, Orion, always so dramatic," Loki said, his voice a sly whisper. "You speak of unraveling creation as if it were a coat woven by mortal hands. We are gods. We are the weavers. If this Ryo Tanaka truly poses a threat, then let him come. Let him try to challenge us. It will be amusing, if nothing else."

The other gods murmured in agreement, their arrogance palpable. Zeus leaned forward, his thunderbolt crackling in his hand. "Orion, you speak of this mortal as if he were a god himself. But he is not. He is a speck, a fleeting shadow in the grand tapestry of existence. If he dares to rise against us, he will be crushed like the insect he is."

Orion's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration mounting. "You are all blind," he said, his voice rising. "This is not about pride or power. This is about survival. Ryo Tanaka is not just a mortal with a strange power. He is a harbinger of something far greater, something even we may not be able to withstand."

The hall fell silent for a moment, the weight of Orion's words hanging in the air. But the silence was short-lived. Amaterasu regarded Orion with a calm, almost pitying gaze. "Orion," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of cherry blossoms in the wind. "You speak of survival, but you forget who we are. We are the eternal ones, the creators and destroyers of worlds. This mortal, this Ryo Tanaka, is but a ripple in the ocean of eternity. Let him come. Let him try to challenge us. He will learn the folly of his ways."

The gods nodded in agreement, their confidence unshaken. Orion looked around the table, his heart heavy with the knowledge that his words had fallen on deaf ears. These beings, so consumed by their own power and arrogance, could not see the danger that loomed on the horizon. They could not see that Ryo Tanaka was not just a mortal, but a force of nature, a storm that could sweep them all away.

As the gods began to disperse, their laughter and casual chatter filling the hall, Orion stood alone, his mind racing. If the gods would not act, then he would have to take matters into his own hands. Ryo Tanaka could not be allowed to continue unchecked. The violet power he wielded was a threat to all of existence, and if the other gods were too blind to see it, then Orion would have to face it alone.

But as he turned to leave, a voice stopped him. It was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of ages. "Orion," the voice said. He turned to see Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead, standing in the shadows, his jackal-headed form shrouded in darkness. "You are right to be concerned," Anubis said, his voice grave. "But you are wrong to think you must face this alone. There are others who see the danger. Seek them out. Together, you may yet avert the coming storm."

Orion nodded, a glimmer of hope stirring within him. Perhaps not all the gods were blind. Perhaps there were still those who understood the gravity of the situation. As he left the Hall of Eternity, his resolve hardened. Ryo Tanaka would be stopped, no matter the cost. And if the other gods would not act, then Orion would find those who would.

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Orion stepped out of the Hall of Eternity, the golden light of the divine realm fading behind him as he entered the void between worlds. The silence here was absolute, a stark contrast to the cacophony of arrogance and dismissal he had just left behind. His mind raced, replaying the words of Anubis. "There are others who see the danger." The thought was a lifeline, a glimmer of hope in the face of the gods' collective indifference.

He raised his hand, and a portal of starlight opened before him, its edges shimmering with the faint hum of cosmic energy. Stepping through, Orion found himself in a realm unlike any other—a place where time flowed backward and forward simultaneously, where the sky was a tapestry of shifting colors and the ground was a mosaic of forgotten memories. This was the Nexus of Echoes, a place where those who had been cast out or forgotten by the gods often gathered. It was a place of exiles, of rebels, and of those who saw the world not as it was, but as it could be.

As he walked through the Nexus, Orion felt the weight of countless eyes upon him. The beings here were not gods in the traditional sense, but they were powerful nonetheless. Some were ancient spirits, older than the pantheons themselves. Others were mortals who had transcended their limitations, ascending to a state of being that defied categorization. And then there were the forgotten gods—deities who had been cast aside by their pantheons, their names erased from history.

Among them, Orion spotted a figure he had not seen in eons. **Hecate**, the Greek goddess of magic and crossroads, stood at the edge of a shimmering pool, her form cloaked in a mantle of shadows and starlight. Her three faces—one young, one old, and one eternally shifting—turned to him as he approached. "Orion," she said, her voice a chorus of whispers. "You seek allies, do you not?"

Orion nodded, his expression grim. "The gods are blind to the danger. They cannot see what Ryo Tanaka truly is. But you... you have always seen what others could not."

Hecate's shifting face settled into a knowing smile. "Indeed. The violet energy he wields is not of this world, nor is it of any realm we know. It is the essence of the abyss, the primordial chaos that existed before creation. If left unchecked, it will consume everything—mortals, gods, and even the fabric of reality itself."

Orion's eyes narrowed. "Then you understand why he must be stopped."

Hecate nodded, her three faces now united in solemn agreement. "But you cannot face him alone. The Void is a force beyond even your power. You will need more than just me to stand against it."

As if on cue, a figure emerged from the shadows—a towering being with skin like molten bronze and eyes that burned with the light of a thousand suns. Prometheus, the Titan who had defied Zeus to give fire to humanity, stepped forward, his chains of punishment now broken and discarded. "I have watched this mortal," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "His power is immense, but his heart is torn. There is still humanity within him, a spark that the Void has not yet extinguished. If we can reach that spark, we may yet save him—and ourselves."

Orion's gaze shifted to another figure, this one cloaked in a robe of shifting colors. Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent god of the Aztecs, slithered forward, his form both majestic and terrifying. "The mortal realm is my domain," he said, his voice a melodic hiss. "I will not stand by and watch. I will join you, Orion, but know this—the path ahead will be fraught with peril.

Orion felt a surge of determination as he looked at the assembled beings. They were outcasts, rebels, and forgotten ones, but they were also the only ones who understood the true nature of the threat. "Then it is settled," he said, his voice firm. "We will find Ryo Tanaka, and we will stop him before the flames of revenge consumes the heavens."