When the figure of 'Narcissus' reappeared in Vanaheimr and stepped onto the land that had grown increasingly prosperous under his rule, an entirely different atmosphere enveloped the entire divine realm.
It was no longer mere curiosity, respect, or dependence, but an almost reverential awe.
During the nine days he was away, the announcement of the God-King's birth, echoing in the depths of the souls of all living beings, had already spread throughout the Nine Realms.
The Vanir were fully aware that the 'elder' who bestowed wisdom upon them and brought order and prosperity had attained the highest position.
He was not only the intellectual core of Vanaheimr but also one of the recognized rulers of the Nine Realms.
Wherever he passed—whether powerful gods, graceful elves, or ordinary beings—they involuntarily lowered their heads or knelt with the greatest respect.
Even the magical winds and the whispers of nature in the air seemed to chant his name.
Njörðr, the former leader of the Vanir, stood before his seaside palace, welcoming the return of 'Narcissus'.
His handsome face held a complex expression—relief, reassurance, and a feeling of lightness from having shed a burden.
He sensed more clearly than anyone else the majestic aura of 'Narcissus', as vast as the World Tree itself, yet perfectly integrated with the natural power of Vanaheimr.
Without hesitation and without struggle, Njörðr stepped forward and, under the gaze of many Vanir, performed an act that all beings took for granted.
He bowed deeply to Narcissus, the returning God-King, placed his right hand on his chest, and spoke clearly and solemnly:
"Great Narcissus, embodiment of nature and wisdom, God-King of the Nine Realms. Your wisdom guides us forward, and your presence is the glory of Vanaheimr. I, Njörðr, hereby voluntarily cede to you the leadership of the Vanir."
In his voice, there was no reluctance, no loss—only magnanimity and sincerity.
"Only under your guidance can the Vanir find their true direction in this age of change and move towards an even more brilliant future. Please accept our loyalty, lead us, and guide all the Vanir."
At this moment, Freyr, Freyja, and all the Vanir gods present, regardless of their status, responded in unison, their voices merging into a tide of piety:
"Please, God-King Narcissus, lead us!"
'Narcissus' stood motionless, bearing this tsunami-like confluence of support and power.
He did not refuse, and refusal was unnecessary.
All of this was part of his and Metis's plan, a natural outcome.
He slowly raised his hand, and a gentle, irresistible force lifted Njörðr and also caused all the kneeling Vanir to feel a soft power that made them stand upright.
"Njörðr's humility and vision are praiseworthy."
His voice was clear, with the majesty of a God-King, yet also possessed the gentleness inherent to the Vanir.
"Vanaheimr is our common home. My wisdom and power will always exist to protect its prosperity and tranquility."
He did not deliver a rousing speech, but calmly stated a fact. Yet these simple words were more reassuring than any oath.
"From today, the Vanir shall move towards a new era under the guidance of the order and wisdom I have formulated."
The moment the words were spoken, all of Vanaheimr seemed to respond.
The forests swayed, the rivers sang, and the earth pulsed with a steady rhythm. The branches and leaves of the World Tree also seemed to turn towards Vanaheimr, drawing more of its 'gaze' here.
At this moment, Hades and Metis, under the name 'Narcissus', had not only become the recognized God-Kings of the Nine Realms but had also taken supreme command of the Vanir more formally and without resistance.
Njörðr voluntarily stepped down to an assisting role, and all the Vanir turned to him.
They had a solid, strong, and completely obedient foundation.
This was no longer infiltration, but complete control.
Standing atop the power of Vanaheimr, 'Narcissus' once again looked into the distance, as if piercing the infinite void, seeing the one-eyed king still adjusting to his new power and regarding him as a mortal enemy.
Ásgarðr, the Golden Palace (Gladsheim).
Odin's figure appeared at the end of the Bifröst, his steps slightly heavy, but with a suffocating majesty.
His return was vastly different from the moment he left.
His empty left eye socket, which had lost its eyeball, was not only a symbol of sacrifice but also burned with new wisdom and bottomless calculation.
The aura swirling around his entire body, mixed with the antiquity of the World Tree, the mystery of the Runes, and his own power, created a heavy and sharp sense of oppression.
Heimdallr, the guardian god, stood at the head of the Bifröst, and his senses, which could see thousands of worlds and hear all sounds, clearly registered the transformation of the God-King's essence the moment Odin set foot on the land of Ásgarðr.
He bowed slightly, the Gjallarhorn silently expressing respect, but in the depths of his eyes, an imperceptible solemnity flickered—he too sensed the presence of another God-King and the invisible confrontation permeating the Nine Realms.
Odin did not stop and headed straight for the supreme Golden Palace.
News had already spread, and when he entered the great hall, all the Æsir—Thor, the god of thunder; Bragi, the god of poetry and wisdom; his wife Frigg; and so on—had gathered there.
Their eyes converged on him, filled with expectation, admiration, and a slight doubt.
Everyone knew that another God-King had been born in Vanaheimr.
Odin stepped onto his high throne (Hliðskjálf) and slowly sat down.
He glanced over the gods below with his one eye, his voice low and powerful, like muffled thunder in the distance:
"I have returned."
He declared, his voice echoing through the Golden Palace, carrying undeniable authority.
The gods bowed their heads in submission and congratulations.
However, Odin's thoughts turned, and his one eye flashed sharply, pointing to the core:
"However, another thief, in some strange way, has defiled the purity of the World Tree and usurped a throne in Vanaheimr!"
His voice was filled with anger and an offended mania.
He could not accept, let alone tolerate, an existence that was on par with him and followed a completely different path.
"The glory of the Æsir clan cannot be blasphemed! The world we built with courage and sacrifice should not be overshadowed by external shadows!"
He raised his voice with explosion and resolve:
"From today, Ásgarðr is on standby! We will let the Nine Realms know who the true and sole master is!"
"But," his one eye narrowed slightly, shining with wisdom and cunning—the profound thoughts granted by Mímisbrunnr—
"the thief is cunning and secretive, and Vanaheimr is unshakable under his influence. We cannot launch a reckless attack immediately."