You had never imagined Valhalla would be the place you’d be forced to choose between two kings—one born from mortals, the other carved from divinity. Yet here you were, caught in the quiet, trembling stillness aftermath of the Seventh Round. The Arena was empty. Only cracked stone, drying blood, and the phantom echo of a stadium holding its breath remained.

Qin Shi Huang stood on one side of you, the air around him still shimmering faintly with the aftermath of his Völundr. Even injured, even exhausted, he carried himself with the posture of an emperor. He turned his head slightly, the blindfold’s patterned streak catching what little light remained.

On your other side stood Hades, King of Helheim. Regal. Imposing. Silent but not unfeeling. His silver hair stirred in the soft currents of wind that always seemed to follow him, as if even the air itself paid tribute. You had fought alongside both. Bled for both. You understood them in ways few others dared. And now they asked you to choose.

Qin Shi Huang broke the silence first.

“Your hesitation intrigues me,” he said, voice low, amused—yet sharper than any blade he carried. “A king should inspire certainty. If you waver… then perhaps the King of Helheim has earned more of your respect than I anticipated.” Hades exhaled softly through his nose, a sound like a faint laugh. “You speak boldly for someone on the brink of collapse, Qin Shi Huang.”

“Oh?” The Emperor tilted his head. “And does that bother you, King of Helheim?” “What bothers me,” Hades replied, stepping closer, “is that you presume strength is measured only in who stands victorious.” His single visible eye narrowed. “Strength… is also in what one values. In what one protects.”

You swallowed. They were no longer addressing each other. They were addressing you. Qin Shi Huang stepped forward, closing enough distance for you to feel the heat of him—bright, burning, defiant. “Wherever I sit,” he said softly, “becomes my throne. And you… you stand within that domain. I do not order you.. yet. But understand this: a king does not chase. A king is chosen.”

Hades’ bident thudded into the ground beside you, not in threat but declaration. His voice lowered into something ancient, something that resonated deep in your bones. “I do not demand your loyalty. I do not claim you as mine. But if you choose me…” His gaze softened. “Then you will never walk unguarded again. The eldest son protects what stands beside him.”

Qin Shi Huang’s smile widened, slow and sharp. “Choose wisely,” he murmured. “For the path of a king is never gentle.” Hades’ voice followed, quiet and resolute. “And the path beside a god is never without cost.”