The Underworld. The atmosphere in Baldr's palace was so tense it had nearly solidified.
Baldr lay on a 'birthing bed' made of soft, luminous moss. Fine beads of sweat traced down his forehead, his handsome face pale and contorted by the clash of three entirely different life forces surging within his body.
His abdomen was clearly distended, emitting a soft light interwoven with gold, silver, and grey. It flickered and dimmed, as if three small, restless suns were contained within him.
Týr stood by the bed like a sentinel of anxiety, his single eye fixed on Baldr, unblinking. His hand rose and fell several times, utterly unsure where to even touch.
Behind him, the Valkyries who had been temporarily summoned tried to maintain solemn expressions, but their eyes flickered with uncontrollable curiosity and barely restrained excitement at the spectacle.
After all, a male god pregnant and giving birth was unprecedented enough to warrant an epic anecdote.
The former Queen of Heaven and goddess of protective nature, Leto, had been invited to attend.
The goddess who had given birth to Apollo and Artemis now wore an expression of profound bewilderment and helplessness.
After examining Baldr's condition, she spread her hands reluctantly. "His constitution... indeed, under a certain influence, a temporary barrier has formed within. But how to bring the 'children' out... I have no relevant experience. The conventional method of delivery is clearly not applicable."
In the corner of the hall, the atmosphere was even more 'heated' than around the birthing bed.
"If you ask me, just cut him open!" Ares crossed his arms, his crimson eyes gleaming with pure, unadulterated warrior logic. "Like cleanly cutting through enemy armor! I can use my divine power to forge the sharpest blade and ensure a smooth incision!"
"Fool!" Höðr's empty eyes 'fixed' on Ares, his voice cold and paranoid. "That would harm Baldr's body. The excess must be excised, and Baldr transformed into a perfect goddess—then all problems would be solved. I can do it myself. My dark divine power is best suited for delicate cutting."
His words caused every male god present, including Týr, to subconsciously clench their legs together, their faces paling.
Leto gave Höðr a thoughtful look.
The blind brother of the god of light—his mental state was clearly more remarkable than his brother's 'pregnancy'.
"Absolutely not!" Nanna stood before Baldr's bed, her beautiful face a mask of determination and anxiety. "How can you make such a brutal suggestion! This is Baldr's body! There must be a gentler, safer way!"
Týr, distracted by their noise, roared, "Silence! This is no time for argument! The physician said the birth is imminent; we need a workable plan!"
"A plan?" Ares snorted. "Týr, why are you so worked up? Anyone would think you were the one pregnant with Baldr's child. Or..." His suspicious gaze slid between Týr and the suffering Baldr on the bed. "Is there truth to what those two madwomen said about you two?"
The veins on Týr's forehead bulged. His fists clenched with a crack, but looking at Baldr writhing in pain on the bed, he forcibly suppressed his anger.
Now was not the time for a fight.
At that moment, Baldr let out a strangled cry of pain. The tricolored light in his abdomen suddenly blazed with incredible intensity, illuminating the entire hall!
A powerful wave of energy erupted from him, mixed with Fenrir's fury, Jörmungandr's encompassing treachery, and Hel's sense of life and death, yet strangely softened by Baldr's own bright and warm essence.
"They're coming!" Leto exclaimed, abandoning all pretense of a plan and rushing forward. "Baldr, relax! Try to channel the power within, don't resist!"
But Baldr was clearly beyond control.
His golden pupils were slightly dilated. The three forces within him seemed to have found an outlet and began to surge outward frantically.
"Out of my way! I'll suppress it!" Ares stepped forward, his war divinity about to erupt.
"Using brute force will only kill him!" Nanna screamed.
Höðr had already condensed dangerous dark divine power in his hands.
In this critical moment of chaos—
The light in Baldr's abdomen peaked, then suddenly imploded inward!
Immediately after, there were no signs of 'delivery' in the traditional sense.
Three fist-sized clusters of light—pure gold, bright silver, and deep grey, respectively—simply 'passed through' Baldr's faintly glowing abdomen as if through a curtain of water and floated in the air.
The swelling in Baldr's abdomen subsided at a visible speed. The light faded rapidly.
He collapsed onto the mossy bed, gasping, drenched in sweat, but his exhausted face held a certain release and relaxation.
Dead silence fell over the hall.
Everyone stared vacantly at the three hovering light clusters, which radiated powerful and strange fluctuations.
So... that was it? They were out?
"Is that... what is that?" Ares was dumbfounded.
"It seems they have their own way of being 'born'," Leto sighed with relief, watching the light clusters with curiosity. "These three children... their essence is conceptual, not flesh and blood. They chose the method best suited to their mode of existence to separate from the parent body... or rather, the father."
Týr quickly moved to Baldr's side, supporting his weak shoulder, and asked quietly, "How do you feel?"
Baldr shook his head weakly, but his gaze was fixed on the three light clusters, his eyes extremely complex—the conceptual offspring of Loki, one of the architects of Asgard's destruction, now 'born' through his body.
The three light clusters slowly rotated in the air, as if acclimating to this new world.
The golden cluster was the most active, humming faintly with the desire to fight and devour.
The silver cluster seemed quiet and profound, carrying the implication of encircling and penetrating.
The grey cluster was the most indistinct, as if hovering between existence and non-existence, emitting a subtle sense of the boundary between life and death.
Höðr and Nanna also gathered around, gazing at the clusters with different eyes.
"What... will they become?" Nanna asked softly, a hint of maternal concern in her voice.
"I don't know," Leto admitted honestly. "This is beyond my understanding. Perhaps Lord Hades or Lady Metis would know."
At that moment, the golden light cluster seemed to 'notice' Ares. It suddenly bobbed excitedly, then, with lightning speed, shot straight into Ares's chest!
"What?!" Ares was caught off guard, then felt a burning, aggressive power surge into his body, resonating and merging with his own divine power of war.
"Rrrah—!" He couldn't suppress a low roar. The flames of war erupted around him, wilder than ever before.
His eyes momentarily turned pure gold, filled with bestial combativeness.
"...Fenrir," Týr said in a low voice, clenching his fists and watching Ares intently.
Ares shook his head. The gold in his eyes gradually faded as he regained clarity, but a new sense of power made him grin with delight. "Interesting... I like this little thing!"
As if 'inspired' by the golden cluster, the silver mass hesitated in the air for a moment, then drifted towards Höðr.
It seemed drawn to Höðr's dark and paranoid aura, gently merging into his palm.
Höðr's body trembled slightly. In his empty eyes, a flicker of silver starlight seemed to ignite.
The shadows around her became fluid and flowing, carrying a deadly quality that slowly permeated from her.
"...Jörmungandr," she whispered, a serpentine smile curving on her lips.
Finally, the grey mass remained in place for a very long time.
It seemed a little confused, 'looking' between Týr, Nanna, and Leto.
In the end, it drifted towards Nanna—the goddess who had died for love and was reborn through love, whose persistence and sorrow that spanned life and death seemed to attract it.
Nanna panicked slightly, but the light cluster gently dissolved into her heart.
Her body trembled. She felt a boundary woven from cold and warmth spreading within her. Her understanding of life and death, of existence and disappearance, seemed to gain a new dimension.
"Hel..." she murmured, her eyes filling with complex tears.
The three light clusters, as everyone watched, had chosen their temporary 'vessels'—or, more accurately, had begun their first steps of interacting with this new world.
Týr watched this strange and somehow fitting scene, his heart full of mixed emotions.
He patted Baldr's shoulder. "It seems they have somewhere to go for now. You rest first."
Baldr nodded and closed his eyes wearily.
Týr gestured for the Valkyries to attend to Baldr, then stepped out of the hall. He gazed at the eternally dark sky of the Underworld, his single eye churning with thoughts.
He remembered Boros's enigmatic words: "The bones are cast."
Yes, the bones were cast.
He just didn't know what numbers would ultimately be rolled.