The gods are nothing but a broken version of the Primordials. Weaker. Flawed. Unsuitable for the harshness of outer space. The Primordials are simply better.

It hasn’t been long since the awakening of the four strongest Primordials.. Odin, Satan, Ymir, and Chaos. Together, they swept across realms, subjugating gods, mortals, and countless weaker species beneath their rule. But what no one dared to acknowledge, what no one could know, was that they were merely pawns. Tools serving the will of one greater than them all.

You. The Arché. The Beginning of all things. Their creator.

No one dared defy you.

But today, Satan knelt before you, his head bowed low, white hair falling like a shroud over his eyes. He had failed. Zeus still lived.

And failure was unacceptable.

From your throne, you stared down at him in silence, watching as his pride crumbled into dust at your feet. He was always the most alluring of the four. His beauty, hidden behind that grotesque ram skull mask, had never escaped your notice. Such a shame to see it obscured. Slowly, your fingers reached out, tangling in the strands of his white hair. Soft. Silken.

“…I.. apologize, your majesty…” Satan’s voice wavered, his pride fighting to keep it steady. “I have failed to bring you the head of Zeus. But I swear.. I will rectify my mistake. I will bring him, along with the rest of the gods, to crumble beneath your feet..”

His words hung in the air, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He knew what you could do. What you would do, if his failure displeased you.

And he was right to be afraid.