Raising Hel, in Danmachi.

[jaimyahoo]

I wonder how will Taylor and Lisa lands???

 

[Himera]

Hel smiled, "I am sure my familia is already good on their landing strategies."

Click to shrink...

I knew, I knew that this lesson in Beacon would come in handy someday!

 

[AHHGKS]

I wonder how will Taylor and Lisa lands???

Click to shrink...

They're going to have their aura activated. I figure that Ruby, Yang, Blake or Weiss will help the Bug Queen and Smug Fox to land without going splat.

tftc!

 

[Common]

The forest south of Orario had been cleared—partially.


Not of danger.


That would defeat the purpose.


But of interference.


A wide perimeter had been established, marked by divine authority and Guild oversight. No adventurers would wander in. No monsters would wander out.


Even the gods watching through the divine observation spell didn't know where it was.


Which made what happened next— Ridiculous.


As Hel Familia stepped into view—six figures emerging beneath the canopy—the renard turned casually toward the taller girl beside her.


Lisa tilted her head slightly.


"Do you have eyes on the object that Hermes hid?" she asked.


Silence.


Then Taylor Hebert didn't hesitate. "Yes."


The entire divine audience froze. Hermes choked on his drink. "…Excuse me?"


In the forest, Taylor's gaze shifted slightly, unfocused—like she was looking at something far away.


"It's approximately two-point-three kilometers northeast," she continued calmly. "Elevated position. Concealed within a hollowed trunk. There are guard monsters nearby—likely placed there intentionally. They are being taken care of as we speak"


Lisa smiled.


"Perfect."

Absolute chaos devolved in the viewing chamber


"That's cheating!"


"That's not cheating—how is that cheating?!"


"She just found it!"


Hermes was still staring, cup now on the ground. "…I hid that personally."


Freya's smile deepened slightly. "Oh? Well lets get this started yeah?"

========

The Ishtar familia had just been thrown moments ago.


The closer they got to the southern wall of Orario, the more the air seemed to thicken.


Not with magic. With pressure. Ottar stood waiting. Unmoving an although he tried to look unimpressed his own battle instincts were blaring.


Yet he stood there like a mountain that had decided to take a vaguely humanoid shape.


Ruby Rose swallowed, then forced a grin as she turned to the others.


"You all have your landing strategies, right?" she asked turning back towards her familia, because that felt like something a leader should ask. Probably.


Lisa glanced sideways at Taylor Hebert.


Taylor gave a small nod. "I am capable of getting everyone,"

Ruby perked up. "Oh! That's great—"

"Nah," Yang Xiao Long cut in, waving a hand. "Not needed."


Taylor Hebert looked at her. Yang jerked a thumb toward Lisa. "Just focus on you and the fox girl."


Lisa's tails flicked once. Before looking at the bug manipulator.



"Taylor," she said carefully, "please, please tell me you are not about to do what I think you're about to do."


Taylor smiled.


"You should already know, Lisa."


Lisa physically shuddered. "…Oh no."


She turned immediately, grabbing onto Ruby Rose's sleeve like a lifeline.


"Ruby," she said, voice suddenly urgent, "could you please catch me instead?"


Ruby blinked, tilting her head.


"Uh…"


She glanced toward the edge of the wall.


Then back at Lisa.


"…I'm not sure my landing strategy would work with two people," she admitted. "It's going to be difficult enough already with our limited ammo. Weiss hasn't had time to fully stock us yet."


Lisa stared at her.


"…You're saying no."


"I'm saying maybe, but also probably no."


Lisa slowly turned back to Taylor.


Who was still smiling.


That same smile.


"…I hate this," Lisa muttered.


Behind them, Ottar stepped forward.


The ground seemed to shift with the movement.


Ruby tensed.


"…Oh no."


A massive hand reached out—


Lisa pointed at Yang. "Take her first!"


Yang grinned. "Coward."


Lisa snapped back, "I am a realist!"


Ottar did not care. His arm reached out and Yang was suddenly gone.

==============

Meanwhile, back with the gods—


They had watched the entire exchange.


Every word.


Every look.


Every poor life decision.


And they were loving it.


"I wish my kiddos acted like that," one god laughed. "That looked fun!"


"Oh please, that blonde one is clearly the best—"


"No, no, the quiet one is terrifying. I like her."


"The red one has style!"


"I'm telling you, the fox girl is the smart one—"


Very quickly—


It devolved.


Voices overlapping.


Arguments forming.


Sides being taken over people who weren't even theirs.


On the platform, Hermes leaned back, grinning as he sipped his drink.


"Oh, this is getting good."


Nearby, Freya watched in silence, eyes distant, thoughtful.


Interested, Very interested. But she promised she wouldnt take her granddaughters familia… She would have to visit more.


And at the center— Hel's eye twitched. "Hey! You can't covet my familia!" she snapped.


The air— Dropped.


Pressure flooded outward from her like a sudden, crushing weight.


Not divine power.


Not technically.


But close enough that every god present felt it.


The noise died instantly.


A few lesser gods physically flinched.


Others went very, very still.


Hermes slowly lowered his new cup.


"…Right," he said lightly. "Still her kids."


Freya's lips curved faintly.


Amused.


Hel exhaled slowly, the pressure easing just enough to let the room breathe again.


"Just…Watch the game," she muttered.


No one argued.


They all turned back toward the divine viewing screen—


Just in time to see Lisa screaming as she plummeted out of the sky.


"THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA—!"


She dropped like a stone—


Straight toward the forest floor—


—and then—


Something moved.


The ground itself seemed to ripple.


A massive, chitinous black hand erupted upward from nowhere—


Formed entirely of writhing insects—


And caught her.



The swarm cushioned the impact, folding around her like a living net before settling.


Lisa lay there for a moment.


Alive.


Unharmed.


Staring up at the sky.


"…I hate her," she muttered weakly.


The divine viewing platform erupted.


"WHO DID THAT?!" one god shouted, half-rising from their seat.


"That wasn't magic—!"


"That wasn't a skill I recognize—!"


"All those insects—!"


Hermes leaned forward, eyes sharp now, all humor gone.


"…That's her. The one responsible for the ants in the dungeon"


Freya didn't speak.


But her gaze had locked onto the scene below with intense focus.


"…Fascinating."


At the center, Hel didn't even bother to look impressed.


"She caught her teammate," Hel said simply.


A nearby god snapped back, "With a giant hand made of insects!"


Hel shrugged faintly.


"Yes."


"That is not normal!"


"No," Hel agreed calmly.


"It is not."


A new voice cut through the tension. Soft, an Curious. "…Kelphri?"


Heads turned.


Bast leaned forward slightly, golden eyes narrowed as she watched the screen.

The chamber exploded.


"That's impossible!"


"Kelphri is dead—!"


"She died in the fight against that monster when he sent the plagues that wiped out most the egyptian pantheon!"


"I was there— All those locusts!"


Voices overlapped, rising into a chaotic storm of disbelief and alarm.


Gods who had been laughing moments ago were now on their feet.


Others stared at the screen like it had just rewritten reality.


Hermes's usual grin had vanished entirely.

======


Wind roared past her ears.


The world blurred into streaks of green and brown as Ruby Rose tore through the forest at high speed, petals scattering in her wake.


Taylor's directions echoed in her mind.


Two-point-three kilometers.

Northeast.

Elevated. Hollow tree.


Easy.


Totally doable.


"…Okay, yeah, this is fine!" Ruby called out to absolutely no one, vaulting over a fallen log without slowing. "We just grab the thing, run it back, and—boom—instant win!"


Behind her, distant crashes echoed—other landings.


Probably, Hopefully.


She didn't look back.


Focus. Speed. Win.

====

Wind howled past her—


—and Yang Xiao Long was grinning.


"Oh yeah," she laughed, twisting mid-air. "This is way better than landing normally!"


Her gauntlets roared to life.


A blast—


BOOM—


She fired downward, the recoil snapping her trajectory sideways through the air like a human missile.


Another shot—


BOOM—


She corrected again, angling herself toward the forest below with explosive precision.


No graceful landing.


No careful descent.


Just controlled chaos.


Exactly how she liked it.


Her eyes locked onto movement below.


Clusters. Groups. A lot of them.


"…Found you." Yang said in a singing tone,


Even from this height, she could make out the gathering forces of Ishtar Familia pushing toward the capture zone.


Organized. Expecting a fight, rather than going for the object they were going to guard the capture zone.


Yang's grin turned sharp.


"Perfect."


Another blast from her gauntlets—


She accelerated, straight toward them.

======

Ruby hit the ground with a soft thud, rolling slightly to absorb the impact.


Before she could even get her bearings, one of the humanoid insect constructs Taylor had crafted scuttled up beside her. Its legs clicked softly against the forest floor as it tilted its head toward her.


"Object located," it seemed to communicate, pointing a delicate, jointed limb toward a dead tree surrouned by bushes and vines


Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Right there, huh?"


She adjusted her stance, ready to dash, as the tiny swarm formed a path, guiding her through the underbrush directly to the hidden prize.


Taylor's handiwork, efficient as always, ensured there was no confusion. Ruby simply had to follow.

A single, precise slash of her scythe cut through the thick trunk, and the dead tree toppled with a muted crash.


As it hit the ground, the golden figure hidden within the branches was revealed—Hermes' seal gleaming brightly in the filtered sunlight, impossible to miss now. Ruby took a moment to look around an see several dead dungon monsters dissapating as what appeared to be thousands of bugs actively tried to eat them.


Ruby's grip tightened on the scythe. "Got it," she muttered, eyes scanning the area for any interference. The path to the capture point was clear, thanks to Taylor. So she turned into petals and followed the bugs.


=========

Pyrne was having an absolutely miserable time.


The moment she thought she had a chance to regroup with her familia, the blonde—this impossibly annoying bimbo—plummeted from the sky and went straight into fist-to-fist combat with her. And somehow… she wasn't utterly obliterating the level one. Not even slightly. It was even more infuriating that when she finally managed to land a hit the blonde suddenly started hitting harder.


As Pyrne's familia tried to intervene, a sleek black catkin darted among them, swiping, weaving, and striking with perfect timing. The thing ran interference effortlessly, keeping everyone else at bay so the blonde could focus entirely on their one-on-one fight.


Pyrne groaned, blocking punches while dodging Blake's infrequent precise attacks. It was chaos, executed with surgical precision, and it was absolutely ruining her day.


Then, just as the familia realized the cat was nearly impossible to pin down, half the battlefield was suddenly coated in ice. Pyrne stumbled, unable to get traction, as the relentless blonde pressed her advantage without breaking stride. Nailing her in the face. Said punch could crack stone with how hard it hit an it hurt like a bitch.


The last thing Pyrne saw was a white haired girl step out of the forest as her head rang with a dull thunk as it bounced off the ground like a ball cracking the ice on the floor, cratering the earth below it.

====

Meanwhile, Ruby raced toward the capture point, scythe in hand, heart hammering in her chest. When she finally arrived, the sight before her was both surreal and satisfying.


To her, the world seemed slow. Every detail stood out. Yang had completely dominated the Level 5 in one-on-one combat, fists moving too fast to track yet landing with precision. Blake, mid-shift, had a sword plunging through her Dust clone, moving like a shadowy specter between enemies. Weiss stood slightly to the side, her hands weaving intricate patterns eyes glowing as ice magic reshaped the battlefield, coating half the field in slick, crystalline terrain that left opponents stumbling.


Ruby took a steadying breath, absorbing the chaos her team had orchestrated. She hadn't felt this alive in a while—the thrill of battle, the precision of her teammates, the overwhelming dominance of their coordinated attack.


As she moved through the slowing enemies toward the capture point, the moment shifted. Yang suddenly began to glow, her aura flaring bright, and a horde of thirty or so Amazons closed in around her. Time seemed to stretch, the battlefield entering near-slow motion as Yang activated her Burn state. Every motion of her fists, every step she took, radiated raw power and intent.


Ruby's pulse quickened. There was no hesitation in Yang's charge—she moved like a living force of destruction, each strike perfectly timed, each movement forcing the Amazons into chaos. The air hummed with the energy of the encounter, a tangible pressure that left even the onlooking gods silent in awe.


Ruby gripped her scythe tighter. The capture point was close. With Yang cutting a path through the swarm, Blake covering her flanks, and Weiss reshaping the battlefield, the objective seemed almost inevitable.


Ruby appeared at the center of the drop off point quicker than any human could really register an inserted the seal.


"GAME OVER!" Was announced and the fighting died down.

========

All of the gods in attendance were staring at Hel—some in shock, some in amusement. Even Freya's golden gaze was sharp with interest. No one had expected the match to be so utterly one-sided.


"YOU CHEATED!" Ishtar shouted, her voice cracking with frustration and disbelief.


Hel's crimson eyes gleamed, a mischievous, very Loki-esque grin spreading across her face.


"Prove it."


The words hung in the air, calm and deliberate, daring Ishtar to challenge her, while the gods looked on, fully aware that Hel had already won—not just the game, but every angle of the encounter.


"Let me give you a hint, there are no rules about what I did." Hel states with an even bigger smile looking down on the Whore.

 

[bambache]

Ishtar's people are feeling sheepish!

 

[Pyro Hawk]

Don't worry everyone! You're only going to have to write a new set of rules for the rulebook after this.

... It shouldn't be surprising to you all, there are how many Trickster Deities amongst you? And you know Hel is Loki's daughter!

 

[Common]

The wheels creaked slowly and unevenly along the dirt road leading away from Orario.


Ishtar sat rigidly atop the cart, her fingers digging into the wooden edge hard enough to splinter it. She said nothing, which somehow made it worse.


Behind her, there was no grand procession. No loyal followers marching in defiance. Just a handful remained. The rest… had stayed behind.


Her jaw tightened.


After the War Game, everything had collapsed faster than she had been willing to admit. The loss had been absolute—not close, not arguable. Absolute.


The conditions had been witnessed by the gods, officiated by Freya, and recorded by the Guild. There had been no room to contest it—not even with her pride screaming otherwise.


Her familia had been dismantled. Publicly. Efficiently. Humiliatingly.


And the consequences had followed immediately.


Territory stripped. Influence revoked. Protections withdrawn.


Some of her children had tried to stay. Most hadn't. A few had already sought out new familias before the dust had even settled.


That stung more than the loss.


Ishtar's nails dug deeper into the wood as she muttered under her breath, "They were unworthy."


The words rang hollow.


Her thoughts drifted—unwillingly—to the moment that had sealed everything. That calm, infuriating expression. That smile.


"Prove it."


Her lips curled.


"…Loki's brat."


Because that's what Hel was. Clever. Cruel. Playing within the rules while tearing everything apart around her.


Ishtar leaned back slightly, golden eyes narrowing as the city walls faded into the distance.


"This isn't over," she whispered.

====

The house was quiet.


Not eerily so—just… peaceful. A rare thing.


Hel stepped inside and paused, taking in the absence of chaos. No shouting. No explosions. No immediate disasters waiting to happen.


"…Acceptable," she murmured.


Faint voices drifted from deeper in the house—her familia, alive, intact, and very much hers. That alone eased something in her chest.


She made her way to her room, movements slower now, the weight of the past few days settling in.


The door shut behind her with a soft click.


Silence followed.


Hel exhaled, long and tired—not physical exhaustion, but the kind that came from managing people, plans, and problems all at once.


She crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, staring ahead for a moment.


Then, without ceremony, she let herself fall backward onto it.


"…I am not moving," she muttered.


A brief pause.


"…Until tomorrow."


Her eyes closed, and the faintest hint of a smile touched her lips..


========


Hel woke up at Firelink Shrine once again.


"Hello, Hel," the Fire Keeper said calmly upon seeing her.


Hel pushed herself upright, brushing imaginary dust from her clothes before offering a small, familiar smile. "Fire Keeper, any clue which lost soul has decided to drag me here today?" she asked lightly.


The Fire Keeper inclined her head, hands folded gently before her. "Ash stirs. A will unfulfilled lingers, calling out across the veil."


Hel sighed, though there was no real irritation behind it. "There's always a will unfulfilled. That's kind of the theme here."


A faint pause followed as Hel glanced toward the bonfire, its embers dancing steadily. Her expression softened just slightly.


"…Is this one going to be troublesome?" she asked.


The Fire Keeper's blind gaze turned toward the flame. "All souls that reach this place carry weight. This one… carries more than most."


Hel hummed thoughtfully. "Of course it does."


Soft footsteps broke the quiet.


Hel turned slightly as a catkin girl approached from the far side of Firelink Shrine. She moved hesitantly, ears twitching, tail low, like someone expecting the world to collapse at any moment.


Her eyes locked onto Hel—wide, uncertain—then something shifted. Recognition.


"…Y-you," the girl stammered, voice shaking.


Hel blinked once, studying her.


The girl stepped closer, wringing her hands. "I… I remember you," she said, a little stronger now. "You tried to reach me, and then that Yang girl finally woke me up from the nightmare… After a bit, I started wondering, and ended up here with the help of another blonde girl like me."


Hel stared at her for a moment, then her eyes narrowed slightly. "That is an impressive amount of talking."


The girl froze. "Ah—"


Hel tilted her head, studying her more closely. "You were not nearly this expressive the last time I saw you."


The catkin's ears flattened instinctively. "I—well—I—"


Hel didn't respond right away. Her gaze had already dropped to the sword still clutched in the girl's arms. It was broken, just as before, but not empty. Something lingered inside it—a faint, warped presence, like the shadow of a soul that hadn't fully passed on.


Hel's expression shifted, subtle but real—recognition, then interest.


"I see," Hel murmured.


Her eyes lifted back to the girl, and then, without warning, she spoke. "How would you like to leave this gloomy place and see the sun again?"


The question hit harder than anything else in the conversation.


The girl blinked. "…What?"


Hel's tone remained casual, like she hadn't just offered something impossible. "Fresh air. Warmth. A sky that isn't constantly falling apart. It's quite nice."


The girl tightened her grip on the sword. "I—can you even do that?"


"Of course I can. You wouldn't be the first I've pulled from this place, and you definitely won't be the last," Hel replied.

"Hn—cost?" Fran asked, ears twitching slightly.


"You would be required to join my familia and work as an adventurer," Hel said evenly.


Fran nodded. "I'm already an adventurer."


Hel's lips curved faintly. "So is that a yes?"


Fran gave a small, firm nod in response, tightening her hold on the broken blade as if grounding herself in the decision.


Hel stepped forward and pulled the catkin into a brief, firm hug. The moment her arms closed around her, the fogginess of the in-between—the oppressive, half-real weight of Firelink Shrine—began to peel away. The air shifted, the world thinning, like something finally letting go.


Then—


They were gone.


The Fire Keeper remained where she stood, head tilted slightly toward where they had been. For a moment, the shrine was quiet again, the bonfire crackling softly in the absence they left behind.


Then she turned her head toward a shadowed alcove.


"So," she said calmly, "what are your thoughts?"


A figure shifted within the darkness, barely visible.


"I don't know if I trust people claiming to be a god," Tanya von Degurechaff responded flatly.


"At what point did she claim to be a god? I just addressed her as such," the firekeepers answers


"She did not deny it." Tayna states as she walks back into the depths of firelink.

 

[bambache]

Time for a food outing?
Fran deserves some tasty treats!

 

[Dissimilate]

Okay, Seriously.... I want... no... I need to have Tanya in Hel's familia. The tease is too much dangit >_< Another awesome chapter!!

 

[Common]

Taylor Hebert was out in the market getting items for breakfast judging by the second body she was feeling in Hel's bed they were going to be getting a new family member… Although thats not what bothered her, what bothered her was that she was being followed.


Not attacked. Not even directly confronted.


Followed.


It had started subtly—people lingering too long, conversations dying when she got close, the same faces appearing in places they shouldn't. At first, it could have been coincidence.


Then it stopped being a coincidence. So maybe deciding to confront them was a bad idea, but she was starting to tire of this shit.


She stopped walking.


The street ahead of her in Orario was busy, normal—too normal. Merchants calling out, adventurers moving between stalls, life continuing as if nothing was wrong.


But Taylor felt it.


The pressure behind her. The spacing. The coordination. People pretending not to look while clearly watching her every move.


Her swarm shifted slightly around her, invisible to most eyes but already mapping every possible angle of approach. If they wanted to keep circling her like this, fine. She could play that game too.


"…Alright," she muttered under her breath. "We're doing this now."


Taylor Hebert turned slowly, finally facing them directly for the first time.


The catkin girl was there again. Same one. Same posture. Same carefully constructed distance between her and the adventurers around her.


So this wasn't random. Not even close.


Taylor's expression didn't change, but her swarm tightened its perimeter slightly. Not an attack—just readiness.


"Okay," she said flatly, mostly to herself. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"


Her voice cut cleanly through the street in Orario.


The crowd reacted instantly. Conversations died. People stepped back. Not panicked—careful. Controlled fear. The kind learned from watching someone flatten a forest during a War Game and deciding it was healthier to stay out of the way.


The catkin girl—previously half-hidden in the flow of pedestrians—froze. Then, under the weight of every gaze in the street, she simply… collapsed onto the ground. Not injured. Just overwhelmed.


Taylor looked down at her. Small. Egyptian-style clothing. Fragile posture compared to the adventurers that had been orbiting her.


The mismatch sharpened Taylor's suspicion further, not softened it.


The girl scrambled slightly, then spoke quickly. "Khepera… It's me, Bast. Don't you remember me?"


Taylor's eyes narrowed.


"Khepri is dead," she replied immediately.


The words were final. No hesitation. No curiosity. Just fact.


The catkin girl winced as if struck anyway.


For a moment, silence held the street again. Even the crowd seemed unsure whether to breathe.


Taylor didn't soften. Didn't step forward. Didn't lower her guard.


"…Start from the beginning," she said. "Because whatever you think I remember, I don't."

========

Lisa was woken up by insects—and she was not happy about it.


Not in the slightest.


The moment she felt the disturbance, her eyes snapped open, already sharp with irritation. If it weren't for the fact that the insects were carrying a clear, structured signal—one that unmistakably pointed to Taylor Hebert being in trouble—she would already be screaming.


Instead, she sat up slowly.


Very slowly.


"…You have got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.


The insects didn't scatter. They didn't panic. They reported.


That alone was enough to erase any remaining sleepiness.


Lisa swung her legs off the bed, expression tightening as she processed the signal more fully. Something was wrong. Not a minor inconvenience. Not a misunderstanding.


A situation.


And if Taylor's swarm was actively reaching out like this, it meant Taylor wasn't just present in it—she was engaged and possibly cornered. Possibly escalating.


Lisa exhaled sharply through her nose.


"Of course it's today, I'll go wake Hel, an we will be on our way soon."

===========

Elsewhere, in the quiet of the room, Hel was asleep.


For once, she looked almost peaceful.


One arm loosely held around Fran, the catkin girl she had pulled from the in-between the night before, Hel remained still for a moment as the knock came at the door. Fran was still half-curled against her, finally at rest after everything she had endured.


The atmosphere was calm. Heavy, but calm. The kind of silence that only existed when Hel was not actively fixing, fighting, or managing something.


Then—


A knock at the door.


"…Hel," Lisa's voice called from outside. "Wake up. We've got a problem."


Hel didn't open her eyes immediately.


"…We always have a problem," she murmured into the pillow.


Fran shifted slightly beside her.


Hel sighed, finally loosening her hold and sitting up just enough to glance toward the door.


"…Define this problem," Hel said flatly.


"Taylor went out early, and she appears to have run into an ambush," Lisa replied from the other side.


Hel blinked once. Slowly.


"…Peaceful diplomatic thing?" she asked dryly. "I'm assuming, since the city isn't on fire."


There was a brief pause outside the door.


"…That's the problem," Lisa said finally. "It looks like one."


Hel's eyes opened fully at that. She didn't move for a second, just processing.


"Define 'looks like,'" she said.


Lisa exhaled. "No one's attacking her. No weapons drawn. No obvious hostility. But she's surrounded—lightly, carefully—and there's a catkin girl at the center of it. Same one that's been tailing her the past few days."


Hel went still.


"…Ah. Amazingly, you managed to get all of that relayed through bugs…" she said, already getting up.


She glanced back briefly as Fran shifted again, still half-asleep, then pulled the blanket a little higher over her. The gesture was quick, almost absentminded, but careful.


"Stay here," Hel said softly.


A small, sleepy nod was her only response.


Hel turned toward the door, expression settling into something calm and sharp.


"…Alright," she said, rolling her shoulders once. "Let's go see which idiot thinks they can outmaneuver my child in a public street."

 

[Dissimilate]

Thanks for the chapter!! But the cliffhanger .... grgrgrrr

 

[Common]

Fran woke slowly, not to fear or pain, but to quiet. For a long moment she didn't move, just staring at a ceiling that wasn't crumbling, burning, or wrong. The air felt different here—warm, steady, real in a way she still didn't fully trust. Her ears twitched as she listened. No distant screams, no unseen things hunting her. Just… normal.


"…Weird," she murmured.


She sat up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders, and immediately reached for her sword. It was still broken, still dull, still something most people would dismiss as useless scrap. But the moment her fingers wrapped around the hilt, something faint stirred within it. Not power in the usual sense—nothing flashy—but a quiet, echo of what was once there.

Fran exhaled softly. That feeling hadn't gone away. Even like this—damaged, incomplete—it still connected to her. Not all of her strength, not even close, but enough to matter. A fragment. A reminder of what she should be.


"I miss you, Teacher," she murmured.


The door slammed open.


Blake Belladonna stepped in quickly, eyes sharp as they swept the room before locking onto Fran. For a split second, tension coiled in her posture like she was expecting something else entirely.


"…You're not Hel," Blake said, tone flat but controlled.


Fran blinked, instinctively tightening her grip on the sword. "No."


Blake exhaled through her nose, some of that tension easing, though not disappearing. "Right. New girl." Her gaze flicked once more around the room, confirming the obvious. "Have you seen Hel?"


Fran shook her head. "No. just woke up."

Blake clicked her tongue softly, more annoyed than worried. "Figures."

She stepped back, already turning to leave, then paused just enough to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes lingered on the sword for half a second longer this time, something thoughtful passing through her expression.


"…That thing isn't just scrap, is it?" she asked.


Fran immediately pulled the blade closer to her chest, posture tightening as her ears flattened. "Teacher not scrap," she snapped, sharper than anything she'd said so far.


Blake stopped.


For a moment, she just looked at her. Then her expression shifted—not defensive, not dismissive. Understanding.


"…Alright," Blake Belladonna said calmly. "Didn't mean it like that."


Fran didn't relax right away, but she didn't push further either. Her grip on the sword stayed firm, protective.


Blake turned fully this time, giving her a more direct look. "Hel's out somewhere I am gonna go look for her."

Fran's ears twitched.


"…Then we go," she said immediately.


Blake studied her for a second, weighing that response.


Then she nodded once.


"Stay close," she said. "And don't do anything reckless."


Fran shifted the sword slightly, settling it at her side.

"Nn."

===========

Meanwhile—


Hel stood in the street, gaze steady, posture relaxed in a way that only made the tension around her worse.


Across from her, Taylor Hebert hadn't moved either, swarm still tight around her like a living barrier, eyes locked forward.


Between them stood the catkin girl.


And something had just clicked.


Bast stared between Hel and Taylor Hebert, golden eyes widening as realization settled in. Her earlier nerves didn't disappear—they shifted, sharpening into certainty.


"…Oh," she said quietly, gaze locking onto Taylor with renewed intensity. "…Oh."


"I'm pretty sure cat girls go nyan," Hel replied dryly.


Taylor's head snapped toward her. "I'm pretty sure that's racist."


Bast blinked, then raised a hand slightly. "No, no, it's true. We do go nyan sometimes," she said, entirely serious.


Taylor stared at her.


Then at Hel.


Then back at Bast.


"…I hate this city," she muttered.


Hel's lips twitched faintly, clearly amused. "You're adapting well."


"I'm being stalked by a cat goddess," Taylor shot back. "That's not adapting, that's escalation."


Bast winced slightly at that, ears drooping. "I wasn't stalking—I was trying to confirm—"


"You sent a rotating escort of mid-to-high level adventurers to shadow me for days," Taylor cut in flatly. "That's stalking with extra steps."


"…When you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bast admitted.


Hel hummed softly, glancing between them. "So. You've confirmed whatever you were trying to confirm?"


Bast hesitated, then nodded slowly. "…Yes."


Taylor's eyes narrowed. "Confirmed what, exactly?"


Bast drew in a breath, something old and heavy settling into her expression. "That if we gods somehow die, we return. Changed. Without memory."


Taylor didn't move.


Bast's gaze fixed on her. "Because you are, without a doubt… Khepri."

Taylor's breath hitched almost imperceptibly as something deep in her mind recoiled. Her swarm tightened instantly, a reflexive contraction that rippled outward through the street. Not an attack. A reaction.


Bast didn't stop.


"After Hapi was slain, the interloper promised ruin. So you started the fight Flies, gnats, lice—swarms beyond counting. The sound of them…" Her voice faltered slightly. "It never leaves you."


Taylor's fingers twitched.


Too many bodies. Too many signals. Too much noise—


Her jaw clenched.


"And then frogs," Bast continued. "Endless frogs, covering everything. Suffocating the land. It was his counter to you specifically because your bugs wreaked havoc on everything. But flies were still flies."

Taylor's vision flickered for half a second— millions of capes rushing the golden man at her command.

"They couldnt really do much, an even though some superficial damage was done that freak was utterly overpowering your swarm. So you woke the locusts from their sleep,—


Taylor remembering the 23 endbringers in the supposed wings being woken up, to help as thousands died everysecond an she sent them to their deaths… Was queen adminstrator still there?


—They just wreaked havoc on everything, to this day everyone believes it was a final fuck you to that thing. Because shortly after you died, so Ra took over and fought for three days straight before he had to retreat."


Taylor didn't move, but the stillness wasn't natural. It was controlled—too controlled. Like everything hitting her was being redirected somewhere else instead of processed.


Hel noticed immediately. Her expression shifted slightly, attention sharpening as she took a step forward, already opening her mouth to intervene—


The moment broke.


"Hel!"


Blake Belladonna arrived fast enough that the word cut through the tension like a blade. She came in with purpose, eyes scanning the scene in a single sweep before locking onto Hel.


Then Taylor.


Then Bast.


Her posture tightened almost imperceptibly.


"…I found you," Blake said, more to Hel than anyone else.


Hel didn't look away from Taylor. "Bad timing," she replied flatly.


Blake followed Hel's gaze and immediately registered the shift in the air—the weight, the silence, the way Taylor Hebert was standing like something had been pressed down and locked inside her.


"What happened?" Blake asked, voice lowering.


Bast hesitated, ears twitching once. The confidence from earlier had thinned. "I was explaining… what she used to be."


Hel exhaled sharply through her nose, cutting in before the tension could spiral further.


"Let me be very clear," Hel said flatly, eyes still on Taylor. "I can see souls. I can read what is and what isn't."


Her gaze flicked briefly to Bast. "Taylor is not a reincarnation of Khepri."


"If you want confirmation, bring Anubis. she'll say the same thing."


She paused, then added almost casually, "I've even seen Odin's reincarnation floating around before. This is not that."


Bast blinked. Then wrinkled her nose in immediate disgust.


"Ew," she said sharply. "That old pervert."

 

[stads]

taylor might not be an incarnation of the goddess but what about the QA shard ?

 

[Megatherium]

Taylor could probably take on the mantle. I forget if one has ascended into godhood in this setting, but taylor's feat speaks for itself.

 

[Common]

Hel was annoyed.


Not visibly—not in the way most people would recognize—but the irritation was there, sharp and cold beneath her usual composure. Bast had nearly pushed Taylor Hebert into something ugly, and that would have gone very poorly for everyone involved.


Hel wasn't even entirely sure why Taylor had reacted that strongly. The story had clearly hit something deep, then again when the girl fell into her bed she had two bullet holes in the back of her head, Taylor an Lisa were not like everyone else. She didnt recover them from the purgatory known as the inbetween.

Fortunately, Hel didn't need to understand the problem to solve it.


The moment they returned home, she redirected Taylor without ceremony. "Fix her," she said, steering her straight toward Lisa as if handing off a volatile object.


Taylor didn't resist, but she also didn't look fully present, her focus turned inward, everything tightly contained behind a controlled exterior. Lisa took one look at her and sighed, the irritation in her expression immediately sharpening into focus.


"Wow. Someone screwed up."


"Bast," Hel replied flatly.


"…Of course it was," Lisa muttered, already shifting into motion as she guided Taylor further inside. "The rest of the Egyptian pantheon won't stop annoying us now…"


Hel rolled her eyes slightly, completely unconcerned. "If they become a problem, I'll handle it."


Lisa snorted faintly. "That's what I'm worried about."


"I mean," Hel added dryly, "Grandmother and Father are still the strongest forces in this city. Worst case scenario, I just escalate properly."


Lisa paused mid-step, giving her a look. "…You saying that like it's comforting… It is deeply concerning."


Hel's expression didn't change. "It should be."


Taylor, caught between them, exhaled slowly—still tense, but the edge of spiraling pressure beginning to ease just slightly under Lisa's presence.


"Come on," Lisa said more quietly, her tone shifting as she pulled Taylor along. "Let's untangle whatever that was before you decide to rewrite the ecosystem again."


Hel watched them go for a moment, making sure Taylor was actually stabilizing this time, before turning her attention back to the others waiting behind her.


"…Right," she said, voice even. "So what's going on here?"


Fran immediately raised a hand and pointed.


"Black catkin," she said, indicating Blake Belladonna.


Then she pointed at herself.

"…That's your explanation?" Blake asked flatly.


Fran nodded, completely serious. "Nn."


There was a brief pause.


Hel's expression didn't change—but there was the faintest shift at the corner of her mouth, like she was deciding whether this was intentional or not.


"…I see," she said finally, tone dry. "A thorough breakdown."


Blake exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down her face. "She means she followed me."


"I gathered," Hel replied.


Fran tilted her head slightly. "…Also wanted to help."


Hel's gaze moved back to her, more focused this time. "And you decided the best way to do that was to follow someone you met five minutes ago into a potential conflict?"


Fran considered that.


"…Yes."


Blake snorted.

"So, Blake," she continued, voice smoothing into something more practical, "it looks like you're looking after her for now."


Blake blinked. "Wait—what?"


"Temporary," Hel clarified, already moving on. "She needs structure, and you're the most suited at the moment."


Blake opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly deciding this wasn't a fight worth having right now. "…Yeah. Fine."


Fran looked between them, then nodded once like this all made perfect sense.


"Nn."


Hel continued without pause. "First, we get her a Falna. That part is non-negotiable."


Fran's ears perked slightly at that, grip tightening on her sword.


"After that," Hel added, eyes flicking down to the blade again, "I'm taking 'Teacher' to Hephaestus."


Blake's expression shifted, interest replacing mild exasperation. "You think she can fix it?"


Hel's lips curved faintly. "If anyone in this city can understand what that is, it's Hephaestus."


"Bring back Teacher?" Fran asked, voice small but hopeful, ears tilted forward as she clutched the sword tighter to her chest.


Hel didn't answer immediately.


She studied the blade again—not the cracks, not the wear, but the presence inside it. The echo. The fragment that refused to fade.


Then her gaze shifted back to Fran.


"…No," she said, calm but not unkind. "Not like that."


Fran's ears dipped slightly.


Hel continued before the disappointment could settle too deeply. "What you're asking for is restoration. That requires a complete soul, not a fragment clinging to a damaged vessel."


A pause.


"But," she added, tone shifting just enough to matter, "understanding it means we can stabilize it. Strengthen the connection. Maybe even let you draw more from it safely."


Fran blinked.


Her grip tightened again—but this time, not purely defensive.


"…Stronger?" she asked.


Hel nodded,


Fran gave a small, firm nod. "Nn."


Hel turned without further ceremony, already moving toward the interior of the house. "Now let's get you that Falna, and then we can go see my friend."


Blake Belladonna fell into step beside Fran, arms loosely crossed as they walked. "You're taking this pretty well."


Fran glanced down at her sword, then back up. "…Teacher still here," she said simply.

Eventually, Hel slowed as they reached a more private room, turning slightly to face Fran.


"Alright," she said. "This part is simple."


Fran straightened instinctively.

Hel stepped closer, presence sharpening just enough to be felt. "You are joining my familia. That means I am about to engrave my blessing onto your soul."


Fran nodded immediately. "Nn."


Hel's hand rested lightly against her back, and divine script began to form.


Fran

Level 1


Strength: I - 0

Endurance: I - 0

Dexterity: I - 0

Agility: I - 0

Magic: I - 0


Magic: Lightning


Skills:

Crowned Sword ??? — By feeding magic and mind into the sword known as "Teacher," Fran can access a portion of the power she once held as the Black Lightning Princess.


Hel glanced over the result, a faint hum of interest escaping her.


"…Huh."


She straightened, expression thoughtful now rather than annoyed.


That skill alone was a problem—and an opportunity.


Hel's lips curved slightly.


She couldn't wait to see Hephaestus's reaction to "Teacher."

 

[Dissimilate]

Thanks for the chapter!!

 

[Common]

The bell over the door didn't so much ring as tremble, a faint metallic shiver swallowed almost immediately by the steady heat rolling out from within. It wasn't the suffocating kind of heat that came from an overworked forge, but something far more controlled—constant, deliberate, like a fire that had long since mastered itself.


Fran paused just inside the threshold, ears twitching as the warmth settled over her.


"…Hot."


Hel didn't break stride. "Yes."


The shop was as uncompromising as its owner's reputation suggested. Weapons lined the walls in clean, purposeful arrangements—no ornament for ornament's sake, no wasted flourish. Every blade, every piece of armor carried the quiet certainty of something made to endure real use, not admiration.


Behind the counter, the clerk looked up—and immediately straightened.


Recognition came without surprise. Her posture shifted subtly, attention sharpening as she took in Hel's presence.


"Lady Hel."


Hel inclined her head just enough to acknowledge the greeting. "I need to speak with your patron."


There was the briefest hesitation, more reflex than doubt, and then the clerk stepped aside without further question.


"Of course. She's in the back."


Fran's tail flicked as they passed, her gaze sweeping over the shop with open curiosity. "…You come here a lot?"

"Somewhat," Hel replied, tone even. "I get along well with Hephy."


They hadn't yet reached the rear doorway when a voice carried forward from within, calm and steady, threaded with dry amusement. "I would say it's more than that. If I wasn't already a married woman, the things I would do to you…"


The words came in time with the measured ring of hammer on metal. As they stepped into the forge, Hephaestus finally looked up, her visible eye catching the firelight as it settled first on Hel with familiar ease—then sharpened abruptly.


Her motion stilled mid-swing. "…So what can I—" She cut herself off, attention snapping past Hel and locking onto Fran.


More specifically—onto the swords at her side.


The hammer hovered for a fraction of a second before lowering slowly. "…Did you bring a divine weapon into my forge?"


Fran blinked, ears twitching in confusion as her hand instinctively brushed one of the hilts. "…A what?"


"I mean techencially there is two in here, I got my scythe too." Hel states causing Hepheastus to stare.


Fran barely registered the exchange. Her focus had already narrowed, the earlier confusion giving way to something far more grounded—protective, certain.


She stepped forward.


"Fix Teacher."


She drew the sword in one smooth motion and held it out. Not like a relic. Not like a weapon. Like it was a beloved family member.


The moment the blade cleared its sheath, the air shifted—subtle, but wrong in a way that didn't belong to damage or wear.


Hephaestus didn't reach for it immediately. She watched instead, her eyes narrowing as if tracking something just out of sight.


"…That isn't damage," she said at last, voice quieter. "It's absence."


A brief pause.


"…Empty. Teacher is gone." Fran whispers. The words didn't come out loud enough to be firm. They slipped out instead, fragile and disbelieving, like she was testing whether saying them made them real.


Her shoulders trembled.


And then she started to cry.


Hel immediately hugged her newest family member looking up at Hephaestus, "Can anything be done to try an preserver the blade an that echo of a soul that was once there… I'll pay whatever you need."

Hephaestus didn't answer immediately. The goddess of the forge stepped closer, her two eye glowing with the reflected embers of her own creation. She didn't look at the gold or the promises of payment; she looked at the way Hel held the girl, and then at the silent, hollow steel.


Slowly, Hephaestus reached out. She didn't take the sword—she merely hovered her hand over the flat of the blade, sensing the resonance. Or the lack of it.


"Payment isn't the issue, Hel," Hephaestus said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "But you're asking me to forge a memory. To catch smoke with a hammer."


She looked up, her gaze locking with Hel's. The air in the forge grew heavy, the heat pulsing in time with the goddess's heartbeat.


"The 'Teacher' you're talking about... his soul, its gone an its left some of a shade but I cant do this using orarios methods." Hephaestus states

"What if we don't use Orario's methods?" Hel stated, a sudden epiphany striking her.


With a flicker of her will, she reached into her personal storage. In a shimmer of dark light, a heavy, leather-bound volume appeared in her hand. The cover was worn, smelling of old parchment and the ozone of a world far away.


Hephaestus leaned in, her professional curiosity piqued. "That... isn't a grimoire. Not one I recognize."


"It's a treatise on Living Portraits and Sentient Imprints," Hel explained, flipping the pages to a diagram of a moving figure trapped in a silver frame. "In my travels working under… my patron, I collected a vast amount of knowledge and literacy."


Hephaestus studied the ritual depicted on the page, her expression tightening in both skepticism and fascination. "This might actually work," she admitted slowly, "but I want it understood now—we are never telling another god about this."


"You will save Teacher?" Fran whispered.


"We'll do what we can, my kitten," Hel replied softly. "What we can."

 

[bambache]

Love the immediate move to recruit the best person to help out a frazzled Fran!

"I mean techencially there is two in here, I got my scythe too." Hel states causing Hepheastus to stare.

Click to shrink...

Rather than "is," should be "are" for the plural.

"In my travels working under… my patron, I collected a vast amount of knowledge and literacy."

Click to shrink...

"Literacy" might work better as "literature."

 

[Common]

Lisa didn't notice the exact moment it happened.


One second she was mid-thought, fingers idly brushing through her girlfriend's hair, her attention split between the quiet moment and the constant hum of her power—and the next, Taylor Hebert snapped upright, her entire posture going rigid as something sharp and uncharacteristic crossed her expression.


Anger.


Not the controlled, buried kind Taylor usually carried, but something immediate and visceral, flashing across her face before she'd had time to hide it.


Lisa stilled, her hand pausing mid-motion as her focus shifted instantly. That wasn't normal. Taylor didn't react like that without a reason—and Lisa hadn't seen anything that would justify it.


Which meant she'd missed something.


"…Taylor?"

Taylor didn't answer right away. Her gaze had gone distant, then narrowed, like she was trying to lock onto something she couldn't quite see anymore.


"…No," she muttered under her breath.


Her hands curled slightly at her sides, tension building fast.


"…No, something was—"


She stopped, jaw tightening as the thought slipped through her grasp. Whatever it was, it wasn't just gone—it had been taken, leaving behind only the frustrating certainty that it should still be there.


Lisa felt it then—not through her own confusion, but through the way her power reacted. It pushed, probed, tried to reconstruct the missing piece—


—and came back empty.


That was worse.


Taylor exhaled sharply, irritation tipping into anger.


"—redheaded bitch—"


The words slipped out low and venomous, instinctive enough that they clearly weren't meant to be said aloud.


Lisa's brows knit slightly. "Who?"


Taylor froze for half a second, like she'd been asked a question she should have an answer to.


"…I don't know, I thought she had killed herself, I need to go check Lisa." Taylor states

The fox girl nods in acknowledgement motioning for Taylor to lead the way.


=====

Far below, in the dungeon a dragon breathed.


Heat clung to the air, thick with the scent of scorched stone, while the walls pulsed faintly with a life of their own. A low growl rolled through the corridor, answered by another deeper within, the sound echoing like something alive and waiting.


"Oh yes, this one breathes fire!" Ruby Rose exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels as she leaned forward, eyes locked on the shifting shadows ahead.


Behind her, Yang Xiao Long folded her arms with a dramatic sigh. "Dang it, why can't it be my turn?" she muttered, though the grin tugging at her lips undercut any real frustration.


The growl came again—closer now.


Ruby didn't wait.


She surged forward, Crescent Rose unfolding in a fluid motion as the infant dragon burst from the shadows, jaws parting as heat built in its throat. Flame followed a heartbeat later, a rush of fire that lit the corridor in a violent orange glow.


Ruby laughed.


Not nervous. Not strained.


Just thrilled.


She darted into the attack instead of away from it, slipping under the arc of flame as it roared overhead, the heat washing past

The dragon twisted, faster now, its movements tightening as it tracked her, adapting with each exchange. It lunged, claws tearing at the stone where she'd been a fraction of a second before.


Ruby pivoted, boots skidding as she redirected her momentum, scythe spinning in a controlled arc that bit into a seam along its flank. Sparks flew, the creature roaring as it staggered—but didn't fall.


Behind her, Yang leaned forward slightly, watching more closely now. "…Alright, that one's got some bite."


Ruby's grin widened, bright and a little reckless. "Yeah! Weiss, great idea leaving that pile of magic stones. If it forces an irregular to spawn, we might actually level up off this!"


She wrenched the scythe free in one sharp pull, and the dragon's tail hit the ground a second later with a heavy thud.


"Ruby," Weiss snapped from behind, her tone tightening, "don't say that out loud. Leaving stones like that is a crime."


The dragon lunged again, more desperate than precise, but Ruby was already moving. She stepped inside its reach, the scythe folding and snapping forward in a decisive motion—


—and this time, it didn't get back up.


As the body dissolved into ash and a magic stone dropped to the floor, Blake Belladonna spoke up, her tone thoughtful.


"So maybe a level two irregular would help," she said. "Think we could handle a minotaur two-on-one?"


"Ah, Blake, welcome back," Yang Xiao Long drawled, glancing over with a smirk. "Enjoy your cat nap?"


Blake shot her a flat look, ears flicking once. "I got roped into some godly shenanigans," she replied evenly, brushing a bit of dust from her sleeve. "But other than that, all is well."


That—


That landed.


Ruby's head snapped around instantly, eyes lighting up. "Wait—what?" Ruby Rose leaned forward, interest overriding everything else. "You can't just say 'godly shenanigans' and move on!"


Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. Weiss exhaled slowly. "Please tell me that doesn't involve us being in trouble."


Blake paused, considering that for a moment.


"…Indirectly? Maybe," Blake admitted. "We got a new familia member, and I'm pretty sure people are going to try to fight Hel for her."


Yang snorted, rolling one shoulder. "After we just pummeled that useless goddess?"


Blake's ears flicked once. "One of the Egyptian gods was watching Taylor."


That quieted things for half a beat.


Ruby tilted her head, expression shifting from excitement to mild confusion. "I still don't get why the gods split themselves into pantheons," she admitted. "Isn't that kind of… weird?"


Weiss lowered her hand, composure slipping back into place as she answered, tone thoughtful despite the tension. "It's politics. Power structures, alliances an other weird godly things… I wonder if the brother gods are real now though?"

===

The meeting wasn't public.


It couldn't be—not with who was involved.


A quiet, neutral space had been chosen, far from prying eyes and overcurious ears. No attendants lingered, no familias hovered nearby. Just a table, two seats, and the faint tension that came from two of Orario's most influential gods deciding—for once—not to escalate things.


Loki arrived first, sprawled into her chair with practiced ease, one leg hooked over the other as if this were nothing more than idle entertainment.


"Didn't think you'd actually show," she muttered, glancing toward the door.


It opened a moment later.


Freya stepped inside like she owned the room—not arrogantly, but with the quiet certainty of someone who had never needed to question it.


"I always show," Freya replied smoothly, taking her seat across from Loki. "The question is whether it's worth my time."


Loki snorted. "Yeah, yeah. You say that, but here you are anyway."


Freya's gaze lingered on her for a moment, measuring, before she folded her hands neatly in front of her.


"We both know why we're here."


Loki's grin thinned slightly. "Yeah. Because things are getting messy."


"Messy," Freya echoed softly, her voice lowering just a fraction. "It has a name, daughter."


That shifted the air between them.


Loki leaned back, expression flattening as the humor drained away. "…So," she said after a beat, "one of my kids is actually alive."


Freya watched her in silence for a moment, something older and far less forgiving settling into her gaze.


"Honestly," she said at last, "I never thought I would forgive you."


The words weren't sharp—but they carried weight.


"And then my granddaughter tells me my husband is still alive," she continued, her tone tightening slightly despite herself. "That I simply need to find him."


A pause.


"I believed Fenrir had killed him."


Loki didn't interrupt.


Freya's gaze hardened, just slightly. "Do you understand what that means, daughter? I have spent decades holding back the urge to erase your familia for what happened. Especially when Bete earned that name."


The implication lingered—old wounds, barely contained.


Then, slowly, the tension eased—not gone, but shifting.


"But now…" Freya exhaled quietly, her composure settling back into place. "Now I am beginning to reconsider."


Her eyes locked onto Loki's.


"To forgive you for Ragnarök."


Silence followed.

Loki looks up with a actual real smile, "I am so happy that i didnt destroy everything an that our family might manage to rebuild."

 

[LogicExtreme11]

very nicely done