Eclipse of Eternities

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The Gods' Return

The air rippled with divine energy.

A tear in space split open above the battlefield, crackling with lightning and raw magic.

And from it—they came.

Odin stepped through first, his golden armor battered, his spear Gungnir still dripping with the blood of fallen foes. His single eye scanned the aftermath of battle, taking in the ruins, the slain Jotnar, and the exhausted Einherjar standing among the dead.

Thor followed close behind, his hammer Mjolnir streaked with frost and ichor, his breathing heavy but controlled. His red cape was torn, his normally bright aura dimmed, but his presence still radiated power and authority.

Loki moved like a shadow behind them, his black leather armor smeared with an eerie, dark substance that seemed to shift in the light. Unlike the others, he didn't seem tired. Just… watching. Calculating.

Balder and Heimdall brought up the rear, their weapons sheathed, their expressions grim.

They had fought their own war.

And now, they had returned.

For the fallen.

---

The Ascension of Warriors

The moment Odin set foot on the battlefield, the Einherjar fell silent.

Even Erik—who always had something to say—stood at attention.

The surviving warriors lined up in formation, weapons held at their sides, faces grim but proud.

The dead were gathered in the center of the outpost ruins, their bodies carefully laid upon stone platforms, their weapons placed beside them.

These warriors had earned their place in Valhalla.

Odin strode forward, his heavy steps echoing in the cold. He did not speak immediately. He simply looked upon the dead—and nodded.

Not in sadness. In respect.

Thor exhaled sharply, stepping forward beside him. "They fought well."

"Aye," Balder murmured, his usual warmth dimmed by the weight of loss. "They will be welcomed as brothers and sisters in Valhalla."

Odin lifted Gungnir, the runes upon its shaft glowing a deep, ancient gold.

Then, he spoke.

"Einherjar. Warriors of Asgard. Sons and daughters of battle. Today, you ascend."

The runes upon the weapons of the fallen flared, their spirits rising from their bodies in shimmering light.

One by one, the dead stood, their spectral forms strong, unbroken, proud.

Odin raised his hand.

The sky split open, revealing the golden halls of Valhalla far above.

A massive, radiant bridge of light extended from the battlefield to the heavens.

And the fallen warriors, without hesitation, marched forward.

No fear. No sorrow. Only honor.

The living watched in silence as their comrades ascended, their voices joining the echoes of those who had come before.

They would feast tonight.

They would fight again tomorrow.

Such was the eternal glory of the Einherjar.

---

The Weight of Survival

As the last warrior stepped into the light, the bridge faded, sealing Valhalla once more.

Odin lowered his spear, his expression unreadable.

The battle was over.

But its scars remained.

He turned to the surviving warriors, his gaze lingering on Ingrid, Darius, Erik, Freya, and Khaled.

And finally, on Orion.

Still unconscious.

Odin's gaze hardened. "What happened to them?"

Ingrid stepped forward. "They gave up control."

Silence.

Thor's brow furrowed. "Explain."

Khaled, still kneeling beside Orion, spoke without looking up. "We were losing. The giants had broken through the outer walls. If we had fought as we were, we would have all died."

He swallowed. "So we… let them take over."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "'Them'?"

Khaled clenched his fists. "Our parents."

The air grew cold.

For a long moment, none of the gods spoke.

Then Odin sighed, rubbing his temple. "Foolish."

"But effective," Loki countered, his lips curling slightly. "If they had not done so, you would be standing in a field of corpses rather than warriors."

Thor scowled but said nothing.

Odin studied Orion's still form. "He is different now."

Ingrid nodded. "We know."

Odin turned, striding away. "Bring them to Valhalla. They will need time to recover."

---

A Moment of Rest

They returned to Valhalla not as warriors, but as survivors.

The battle was won. The dead had ascended. But something lingered in the air—an unease that none of them could shake.

Khaled sat beside Orion's unconscious form, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Will he be the same when he wakes up?" Freya asked, her voice quiet.

No one had an answer.

Because deep down, they all knew the truth.

Orion Lykaios had stepped closer to godhood.

And that always came with a price.

---

---

A Dream Unlike Any Other

Orion drifted in a sea of nothingness.

No light. No darkness.

Just an endless, weightless void.

At first, he thought he was dead.

Until he heard the voice.

"Curious."

The word wasn't spoken—it resonated through existence itself, vibrating through his very essence like a note played on an instrument beyond mortal comprehension.

And suddenly, the void was gone.

Orion stood.

Not on land, not on air—but on branches.

An endless, sprawling web of roots and limbs stretched across eternity, intertwining through realms beyond his understanding. Each branch pulsed with power, veins of golden energy flowing through the bark like living rivers of time and fate.

The air hummed with something primal. Something vast.

He knew where he was.

Yggdrasil.

The World Tree.

---

A Presence Beyond Gods

Before him, a massive golden eye opened within the bark of the colossal tree.

Not hostile. Not kind. Simply observing.

And Orion felt small.

This was not a god.

Not as Odin or Thor were gods.

This was something beyond them.

Something that had existed before time itself had a name.

And it was looking at him.

"You carry the mark of Uranus," the voice mused, rippling through the branches like wind through an infinite forest. "How rare. How interesting."

Orion swallowed. He didn't know if he could speak in this place, but he tried.

"Who—" His voice cracked, his very breath struggling against the sheer weight of the being before him. "Who are you?"

A pause.

Then, amusement.

"I am what connects. What binds. What remembers."

"I am Yggdrasil."

The words shook reality.

Orion felt his consciousness tremble, his mind bending under the sheer scale of what he had just heard.

This wasn't just a divine tree.

This was knowledge itself.

It had seen the birth of gods. The rise and fall of civilizations older than time. It had witnessed the flow of existence before it had a beginning.

And it was speaking to him.

For fun.

---

An Aunt's Passing Interest

"You are the first of your kind I have noticed in many ages," Yggdrasil mused. "A fragment of something greater, walking among mortals."

Her words wrapped around him like vines, pulling at pieces of him he didn't even know existed.

Orion staggered. "Why… are you here?"

A whisper of wind through leaves. A sound older than the universe.

"Because I was curious."

The sheer absurdity of it almost made Orion laugh.

An entity beyond Odin, beyond the primordials, beyond even the concepts of fate and order themselves—

Had come to talk to him out of curiosity.

"That… doesn't make sense," he muttered.

Yggdrasil chuckled.

Or rather, reality itself chuckled.

"It does not have to."

Her golden eye flickered slightly, as if something unseen had pulled her attention elsewhere.

She could not stay.

Orion felt it—the distance between their existences was too vast.

Even this brief interaction was an impossibility.

A mistake.

The connection was already starting to slip.

But before she left, Yggdrasil lowered her gaze back to him.

And for the first time, he felt something more than simple amusement.

He felt acknowledgment.

"A gift, then."

Orion's body burned.

But it wasn't pain.

It was restoration.

Every wound, every scar, every fragment of battle-worn exhaustion vanished in an instant.

Strength surged through him—pure, natural energy.

A power unlike anything he had felt before.

"Let this be a small favor from an old tree," she murmured. "Your body will mend itself from wounds untainted by the divine. And even those touched by magic or gods shall heal faster than before."

Her voice was fading.

She was leaving.

The vastness of her existence was already returning to realms he could not follow.

"Grow strong, Orion Lykaios."

Her final words echoed as the void shattered.

---

Awakening

Orion gasped.

His eyes snapped open, his lungs filling with air as if he had been drowning.

The ceiling above him was not the infinite canopy of Yggdrasil.

It was the familiar stonework of Valhalla's healing chambers.

His body felt… different.

Lighter. Stronger.

The pain he had expected from overexertion wasn't there.

He lifted a hand, flexing his fingers.

The bruises from battle? Gone.

The dull ache of exhaustion? Nonexistent.

He was whole.

But more than that—

He could still feel her presence.

Distant. Faint.

But there.

Watching.

Remembering.

---

A New Path

As Orion pushed himself upright, the doors to the chamber opened.

Freya stood there, eyes widening. "You're awake."

Behind her, the rest of his team stirred—Khaled, Darius, Ingrid, Erik.

They had all been waiting.

For a moment, they simply stared at him.

Then Erik grinned. "Took you long enough."

Orion exhaled, a small smirk forming. "Yeah. Guess I needed the nap."

Khaled studied him. "You… seem different."

Orion nodded slowly. "I am."

And deep in the forgotten spaces of existence—

Yggdrasil watched.

And smiled.

---

---

A Celebration Earned

The halls of Valhalla roared with music, laughter, and the clash of drinking horns.

For the first time since the battle at the Frostbound Outpost, there was no war to prepare for, no drills to run, no looming threats of death.

Only celebration.

Tables stretched across the great hall, piled high with roasted meats, golden fruits, and barrels of the finest mead. Warriors—both old legends and newly ascended Einherjar—filled the space, trading stories of battle and drinking like they had nothing to fear.

Because for now?

They didn't.

This night belonged to victory.

And at the center of it all?

Orion and his team.

---

A Hero's Return

When Orion entered the hall, the atmosphere shifted.

All at once, every warrior turned, eyes locking onto him—not with challenge, not with judgment—

But respect.

Then, a single voice rose above the crowd.

"TO THE WARRIORS OF THE FROSTBOUND OUTPOST!"

A thunderous cheer erupted.

Drinking horns slammed against the tables. Swords clashed against shields. The very walls of Valhalla shook with approval.

Orion felt the weight of their gazes—not as an outsider, not as an unproven warrior—

But as one of them.

Freya nudged his arm, smirking. "Well, look at that. They actually like you."

Erik laughed, throwing an arm over Orion's shoulder. "'Course they do! We held the line like gods-damned legends!"

Ingrid rolled her eyes but smiled. "We survived. That was enough."

Khaled raised his goblet. "And for that, we drink."

Darius smirked. "Finally, something I can agree with."

Orion exhaled, taking it all in.

For the first time since his awakening, he let himself enjoy it.

---

The Drinking Begins

"DRINK, FIGHT, OR BE SHAMED!" Erik bellowed, slamming a barrel of mead onto the table.

Orion chuckled. "That's not an actual law, is it?"

Freya smirked. "In Valhalla? It might as well be."

Erik handed out drinking horns, already overflowing with golden mead.

"To survival!" he shouted.

"To victory!" Ingrid added.

Khaled raised his drink. "To those who fell with honor."

A brief silence fell over the table at that, but it wasn't sad. It was respectful.

Then Darius grinned. "And to kicking giant ass!"

The tension snapped. Laughter filled the space as everyone drank deeply.

Orion took a sip—

And immediately felt fire in his veins.

"Okay—what the hell is in this?" he coughed.

Siegfried appeared behind him, grinning. "Strongest mead in the realms. Don't embarrass yourself."

Orion scowled. "I hate you."

"Not as much as you'll hate yourself in the morning," Siegfried said, clapping him on the back.

The drinking continued.

---

The Games of Valhalla

After enough mead, the warriors of Valhalla did what they did best—

They turned everything into a contest.

"SHIELD-BASH COMPETITION!"

Darius smirked. "You're on."

He crushed everyone. Even Erik.

"AXE THROWING!"

Freya won easily, flipping between raven and human form mid-throw.

"WRESTLING!"

Erik and Darius fought for a full twenty minutes before collapsing in a mutual draw.

"KNIFE DODGING!"

Orion barely dodged Ingrid's dagger throw.

"That was close," he panted.

She smirked. "Was it?"

Khaled teleported behind her. "Try dodging this."

She barely dodged.

"Okay," she admitted. "That was impressive."

---

Thor Joins the Party

As the contests continued, a deep voice rumbled through the hall.

"WHO DRINKS WITHOUT ME?"

The warriors froze.

Then cheered as Thor strode in, Mjolnir slung over his back, a massive drinking horn in hand.

"LORD THOR!" someone bellowed.

Thor grinned. "I heard this was a feast for warriors. So why is no one trying to outdrink me?"

The challenge was immediately accepted.

Orion found himself dragged into the drinking contest before he could protest.

He lost.

Badly.

Thor roared with laughter. "You fight well, boy, but you drink like an elf!"

Orion groaned, his world spinning.

"Next time, I'll be ready," he muttered.

Thor smirked. "We'll see."

---

A Moment of Reflection

As the night wore on, Orion found himself stepping outside the hall, breathing in the cool air.

The stars above Valhalla burned brighter than anywhere else in the realms.

He heard footsteps behind him.

Freya.

"Too much?" she asked.

Orion chuckled. "A little."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the sky.

"You did well," she said.

Orion glanced at her. "We all did."

She nodded. "Yeah. But you led us. And you didn't break."

He exhaled. "Felt like I did."

Freya smirked. "Then you put yourself back together. That's what matters."

Orion smiled slightly. "Thanks."

"Don't get used to it," she teased. "Now, come on—Erik's trying to fight Thor."

Orion sighed. "Of course he is."

They returned to the celebration.

For now, there was no war.

No training.

No gods watching his every move.

For tonight, Orion was just a warrior among warriors.

And that was enough.

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