DC/Fate: Age of Heroes

The sky split open with thunder as Zeus's voice rolled across the earth like a divine decree.

"Mortal, you have angered the gods. Face your judgment at the foot of Olympus! Otherwise, your precious humans will perish."

Humans all over Greece trembled hearing the decree. Nobody knew what was going on. But in the chaos, one thing was clear. The very gods they worshipped were threatening to end them all.

Edward didn't hesitate after he heard the declaration form Zeus. He was already pissed off, then Zeus had to target him. He might as well end it all today.

His eyes gleamed with cold fury as he raised his hand, summoning the Vimana. The divine chariot shimmered into existence, golden plates unfolding like wings as it descended before him.

Without a word, he leapt aboard, wind howling around him as he soared toward the mountain that loomed like a divine fortress carved into the face of the earth. A historical place where Titans and gods fought.

He clenched his fists, thoughts turning inward.

Kratos… or Gilgamesh? Who do I choose for the war.

He needed to carve a path through the horde first. Kratos was fury made flesh, the one-man apocalypse. But it would take longer , and boring to squash ants.

But Gilgamesh… Gilgamesh was a king with unlimited treasures. A tyrant who commanded countless weapons that can wrap things up nicely . And Edward was not here for a duel. He was here for a quick massacre.

So, He chose Gilgamesh to start things off. Then, he'd use Kratos to finish off Zeus .

By the time his thoughts were over, Mount Olympus stretched before him in all its impossible grandeur. pillars of gold, cliffs wrapped in storm clouds, and thrones carved from the bones of Titans.

The wind howled past him. Clouds cracked open. Lightning danced along the sky as Mount Olympus stood tall before him, monstrous and divine.

And waiting for him at the foot of the mountain… were the gods.

As Vimana descended through the storm clouds, the divine host was already assembled at the mountain's base.

Seven of them. Zeus stood at the front, white-bearded and wrathful, lightning crawling over his skin like serpents.

Beside him, Apollo burned like a miniature sun, his bow strung and eyes blazing. Athena stood in cold silence, her spear resting on her shoulder. Demeter had vines and roots swirling at her feet, green life pulsating with divine rage. Aphrodite looked uncertain, her beauty surreal, yet her posture wary. 

Dionysus—usually a drunkard—had sober fury in his eyes, crackling with the power of earthquakes and the ocean, borrowed from Poseidon. Hephaestus hefted his molten hammer, smoke pouring from his lungs.

Behind the gods were their beasts, an entire army of monsters: manticores snarling, griffins screeching, cyclopes stomping their hooves into the stone. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands.

Hades was absent. So was Hestia. Edward didn't care. If they didn't pick a fight, he wouldn't harm them.

And Hera…

Edward smirked faintly. He remembered her words, her tears, her body clinging to him asking forgiveness. She had begged. Promised. Pleaded.

And he had sent her to Themiscyra, far from what was to come. Let her live with that.

Thunder cracked again as Zeus stepped forward, arms wide.

"You stand alone, mortal! You have sinned against Olympus—against the order of the cosmos! Today, you—"

Edward raised a single hand.

"Who gave you permission to speak before me, mongrel?" His voice cut through the air like a blade. "Apologize… with your lives."

From behind Edward, golden portals swirled open across the clouds—The Gate of Babylon erupting with divine fury. Thousands of weapons shimmered behind him, each ancient, each etched with legends.

And from the center of the Gate… came a single sword.

Ig-Alima. The mountains felling sword.

Its hilt was as wide as a palace gate. The blade stretched across the sky, dwarfing even Olympus. Mountains quaked beneath its presence. The air itself recoiled.

A titanic slab of divine metal, glinting with starlight and the wrath of ages. It was not a weapon. It was the King's judgment.

Dionysus blanched. Aphrodite's lips parted, already calculating an escape. Athena exhaled quietly and whispered, "Is this the limit of his strength?"

No answer came—only doom.

"Erase them," Edward commanded.

"Ig… Alima."

The heavens roared.

BOOM.

The blade descended, an executioner's guillotine from the clouds. The wind shattered. The sky collapsed. The very fabric of the world groaned beneath the weight of the King's wrath.

The world exploded.

The sword dropped with the wrath of gods long dead. Mountains split in half. Valleys collapsed. The very crust of the earth shrieked as it was torn open.

Zeus lunged forward, arms wide, desperately attempting to hold the sword at bay. Lightning crackled from his palms as he pushed against the blade's weight, his muscles straining, veins bulging like tree roots.

Apollo hurled orbs of condensed solar fury, each strike crashing against the sword's surface with the power of miniature suns.

Athena swung her divine spear upward, channeling millennia of wisdom and battle into a single strike.

Demeter drew back Artemis's bow, the arrowhead made of moonstone, its path glowing with ancient magic. Her vines and roots surging like a forest's vengeance, coiling toward the Gate.

Dionysus screamed and punched upward, the earth beneath Edward cracking as Poseidon's power surged into his blow. Tsunamis of rock and water collided with the golden gate.

Hephaestus roared, spinning his hammer before hurling it like a meteor.

But the sword did not stop.

Zeus was driven to his knees, blood bursting from his mouth as the blade carved the heavens in two. Athena slammed her spear into the ground and cried out in desperation—only for the wind of the sword's descent to throw her like a rag doll. Apollo's flames flickered and broke. Dionysus staggered back, the sea power flickering around his fist as he stared up, realization dawning too late.

Ig Alima struck.

A blast wave surged outward, vaporizing monsters in a thousand-yard radius. Griffins were turned to dust mid-flight. Cyclops screamed once before their skulls caved in from the pressure. Manticores scattered, only to be torn limb from limb by flying debris.

The ground shattered. Trees disintegrated. The sky split open.

And in the center of it all, as the dust settled and a crater the size of a small kingdom smoldered in silence… stood Edward.

Unscathed.

His cloak billowed behind him, golden portals swirling around his head like a halo. The Gate of Babylon had already begun to rearm, dozens of divine weapons spinning lazily in orbit.

Zeus staggered forward, lightning flickering weakly in his palms, his eyes burning with unyielding fury. Blood streamed down his face.

Edward tilted his head in boredom. He had barely started.

****

Blood.

It soaked the skies like ink spilled over parchment.

After Ig Alima fell like the wrath of a forgotten god, cleaving mountain and beast alike in two, Edward stood atop Vimana, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, golden armor glinting under the crimson sky.

The impact had split the earth for miles. Chasms smoked. Fires blazed across scorched slopes. Groans of dying monsters echoed across the field like a funeral dirge.

He raised his right hand lazily. " Let's clean up the ants."

The sky behind him cracked open like glass. Thousands of golden portals—each Gate of Babylon—blossomed into existence in a sweeping arc. Ancient weapons shimmered within, trembling as if desperate to taste blood once again. Then they launched, targeting the remaining monsters that survived.

Missiles of divine steel rained upon the battlefield like judgment from the heavens.

Spears the size of pikes impaled Cyclopes through their chests. Axes split manticores in half mid-leap. Arrows as wide as tree trunks flew like lightning, bursting through wings of griffins, sending them spiraling to the ground in burning heaps.

For a moment, it was as if Olympus itself bled.

Gore painted the mountainside. Severed wings flapped weakly. Entrails coiled like ropes over the broken stones. One poor manticore staggered forward, only to be pinned to the cliff wall by ten swords in rapid succession—its face frozen in a grotesque scream before the wall exploded from the impact.

Edward didn't blink.

The gods, still standing, watched in grim silence.

Aphrodite's eyes trembled. Her lips quivered in revulsion as viscera splattered across her gown. Apollo clenched his fists, golden fire wreathed around his arms as he tried to hold onto composure. Athena remained expressionless, though the flicker of concern in her gaze betrayed her thoughts.

For a few heartbeats, it felt like it was raining blood.

Then came the retaliation.

"Enough!" bellowed Zeus, lightning surging around him like a living storm.

The gods launched forward in unison. Athena darted into the air, shield raised, sword flashing with divine power. Apollo unleashed blazing solar flares, hurtling them toward Edward like miniature suns.

Hephaestus lobbed his hammer with the force of a volcanic eruption. Demeter notched enchanted arrows onto Artemis's spectral bow, each tipped with the death of winter and the breath of famine.

But Edward never moved from his spot atop Vimana.

He answered their fury with overwhelming strength.

Portals flashed again—one after another—spitting out blades, chains, spears, and daggers in impossible volume. The weapons met the gods' attacks in mid-air, detonating in explosive bursts of fire and magic. Sparks lit the sky like fireworks.

Blades ricocheted from Athena's shield. A hammer clanged against a flurry of axes. An arrow meant to pierce Edward's heart instead shattered against a crimson-tipped halberd spinning through the air.

It wasn't just elegance. It was domination.

Relentless. Unyielding. God-crushing force.

Edward's eyes scanned the battlefield, calmly.

Then he saw it.

The weak link.

Dionysus. Drunk on fear more than wine, the god of revelry was fumbling with the remnants of Poseidon's power—clumsy hands glowing with unstable energy, water swirling at his feet like a child trying to tame the sea.

Pathetic.

A smirk curved Edward's lips.

"Got you," he whispered.

He extended his arm, and from another gate, Enkidu surged forward—golden chains of judgment. They danced through the air with a scream like tortured metal, divine authority woven into every link.

Dionysus barely turned before one wrapped around his ankle.

"What?!" he gasped, and the next moment he was airborne.

The god of wine screamed as Enkidu yanked him violently across the battlefield, smashing him through a boulder, then a ridge, then through Hephaestus mid-leap, who tumbled aside with a grunt.

Another spin sent his limbs flailing, and Dionysus crashed hard into the earth, carved a trench with his body, then was pulled back up. Worst of all? He felt all that without his divine powers.

The chain reeled him in like a hunted beast.

Edward stood above him, still mounted on Vimana, arms folded as Dionysus dangled upside down, blood running from his mouth and a rib visibly piercing through his side.

"Please..." Dionysus croaked, his face swollen and slick with dirt and blood. "I haven't… I haven't done anything to wrong you… Spare me…"

Edward tilted his head, thoughtful.

"Well, that's a bold argument," he said, voice low and amused. "You're saying you're innocent?"

Dionysus coughed, wheezing. "I… I bring joy! Wine… music...."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "And how many have died in your name? How many overdosed on your 'joy'? How many drowned in your wine? And the madness ? You got any answers for that ?"

The god of indulgence had no answer.

Edward leaned down, meeting his eyes.

"You are useless. Dead weight. A parasite clinging to Olympus. Tell me one good thing you've done this week to help someone else."

Dionysus stuttered. "I… uh… I threw a party for—"

Edward sighed.

He summoned a new weapon from the Gate. Merodach—a jagged, brutal blade, ancient beyond reckoning. The air around it vibrated as it emerged, as if the world remembered what it had done before.

"Pathetic mongrel," Edward muttered. "If I were dead, you'd be drunk in a toga, celebrating my end. You don't even deserve a burial."

And with one clean stroke, he cut Dionysus's head from his shoulders.

Blood sprayed across the mountaintop like a crimson geyser. The god's head fell like a discarded melon, bouncing once on the stone before rolling down the slope. The body dangled for a moment longer before Edward kicked it free. It hit the ground with a sickening thud.

He turned back to the other gods, their faces frozen in horror.

He grinned, eyes glinting with red.

"That's the first one today," he said.

His voice was calm. Measured. Mocking.

He pointed his blade toward the rest of them—Zeus, Athena, Apollo, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Demeter.

"So,Who's next?"

*****

Mount Olympus was burning.

The scorched marble cracked beneath Edward's boots as he stepped forward, blood still dripping from his blades. The remnants of Dionysus headless body lay behind him , mangled beyond recognition. His wine-stained robes were shredded like silk caught in a storm, his once-mocking smile frozen in a rictus of agony. Edward didn't look back.

He didn't have to.

Ahead stood the last of the Olympians—bloodied, furious, cornered.

Apollo glared at him with burning hatred, golden ichor leaking from a gash above his brow. His bow was broken, useless. Lightning coiled around Zeus's form like a vengeful storm barely contained, his beard bristling as thunder cracked with every breath.

Demeter cradled her shattered arm, jaw clenched in pain, wheat and earth now withering around her. Hephaestus grunted as he dragged himself upright with his great hammer, the furnace-light in his one good eye dimming.

And then there were the goddesses, Athena and Aphrodite.

They were breathing hard, their flawless skin marred by gashes, bruises, dried ichor. Athena's armor was cracked at the shoulder. Aphrodite's once-perfect face was smeared with dirt and blood. Her lips still curved into a seductive pout, but her eyes were clouded with desperation.

The silence between them all was broken by Athena.

Her voice, though shaken, still held the weight of centuries of reason and war:

"Why are you doing this? What is your purpose by killing the Greek gods? Are you working for another Pantheon? Name your price—we'll offer double of what they promised."

Edward paused—then let out a chuckle. It grew. It grew into a laugh. A deep, thunderous, almost joyous roar of amusement.

"Hahahaha… That's rich. That's hilarious. I haven't laughed this hard in ages." 

His eyes gleamed, teeth bared in a grin that was anything but friendly. "You think someone like me, who has the strength to butcher you all, would serve some pathetic mongrels? Do you think it makes any difference whether it's you or them? The moment I ripped Poseidon's head from his body, I knew your fragile pride wouldn't let that go unanswered."

He stepped forward, pointing a finger toward Zeus.

"And I was right. You sent your dogs after me—Ares, Heracles, Artemis, Hermes… So I tore them apart. All but Hermes, the coward, who ran off to beg his father for help. And then today… That mongrel dared to threaten me. He thought he could use mortals as bargaining chips—those very mortals whose belief sustains you."

Zeus's jaw clenched, his hands trembling with contained fury.

Athena tried again, stepping forward, voice calmer now, desperate.

"We can't undo what's been done… but we can end this. We can offer you wealth. Glory. Even goddess wives, if that is what you desire."

Aphrodite, ever the opportunist, slid beside her, clutching her torn silk dress and pressing her ample breasts forward with a sultry smile.

"Yes… I would be delighted to offer myself," she purred, voice honeyed, "as a gesture of peace. You won't be disappointed. I can give you pleasures beyond mortal comprehension, every single night…" She gave a coy wink, while pushing up her large breasts that almost spilled out her tattered clothes. every movement meant to seduce, enchant, beguile.

Any mortal man would've knelt.

But Edward was no mortal. He didn't even blink.

Instead, his voice dropped—deeper, darker, with an edge that could split stone.

"…You dare insult this king, you pathetic Mongrel! "

Something stirred within him. The presence of Gilgamesh, the ancient spirit now bound to his soul, roared with rage. The memories surged, how the Sumerian gods had tried to force Ishtar upon him, the goddess of love and lust. The Olympians had unknowingly scratched that ancient wound, and his fury now burned like molten iron.

Edward whispered to himself.

[Goddammit, not now.]

He sighed and reasoned internally with Gilgamesh, [Relax dude. They're just inbred retards who probably used all their brain cells to come up with this. Don't waste your fury on them. They aren't worthy. I'll handle this.]

Gilgamesh's wrath simmered, but with effort, he pulled back. Edward exhaled.

To the gods, it looked like he was considering their offer.

Then came the dagger.

"You're hopeless. You offer me a whore? A creature passed around Olympus like a cup of wine?" 

His voice boomed, echoing off the broken mountains. "She's been fucked by half the realm. Even most of you, I wager. And you dare to offer this tainted creature? And this whore thinks she can share my bed? Delusional Mongrel."

Aphrodite froze, mouth agape, her face paling. Never in her immortal life had anyone rejected her. Let alone spit on her offer. Let alone call her what she was, a defiled harlot. ( Even a senzu bean won't heal that burn 💀)

Athena's composure cracked. Her face went pale as she stepped forward, trying to mediate.

"Wait, no. I didn't mean her." Her voice trembled, then steadied. "I… I volunteer myself."

Gasps rang across the remaining god.

Even the wind stopped for a moment.

Zeus's voice split the air like thunder.

"ATHENA! Have you lost your mind? You dare negotiate with this mortal? Offer yourself for peace? Are you plotting treason now!?"

Athena snapped back at him, voice laced with fury.

"I am trying to save us, you stubborn old fool! Don't you see it? He's been toying with us since the beginning! Because of your incompetence, I have to sacrifice my vow to save your pitiful lives."

She turned back to Edward, stepping closer until only inches separated them. Her red eyes, intelligent, fierce, weary, locked onto his.

"I am the Virgin Goddess Athena. I offer myself, not just as a wife, but as a symbol of peace and unity. Let there be peace. End this madness. I will abandon Olympus. I will devote myself to you… if only to spare what's left of us."

Edward was quiet for a moment. The storm paused for a heartbeat. He chuckled and shook his head, " You really don't get it."

Then, slowly, he reached out and gripped her chin.

"You Greek gods…" he muttered, almost with pity, " you really were born with half the brain cells of normal men."

Her eyes widened slightly at the insult—but she didn't flinch.

"But," he continued, voice low, dangerous, "you did one thing right. You stood for something… even if you did horrible things in its name."

Athena tried to protest, but He raised a finger and gently pressed it to her lips.

"You have a decent head. But I do not agree with your actions. What you did to that poor girl Medusa, was monstrous. So here's your punishment."

He pulled back, red eyes burning.

"You'll live… but as a monster. Just like her. Centuries in that form. Suffer, as she did. If you learn your lesson after that… I'll set you free. Accept, or die. Choose."

Athena's breath trembled. She closed her eyes.

"And after regaining my freedom?" she whispered. "I'll have nothing left. What would I do? "

Edward shrugged.

"Sounds like a you problem. Yes or no?"

After a few moments of thinking, She opened her eyes in resignation.

"I accept."

Edward nodded without any emotion.

"Good girl. You get to live ."

He turned slowly, his eyes locking on the remaining gods.

His voice dropped into a whisper, darker than death:

"But you mongrels  won't."