DC/Fate: Age of Heroes

The midday sun shone harshly over the Aegean, casting its brilliant reflection across the blue waters like molten bronze.

The scent of salt and heat drifted in the wind, mingling with smoke, incense, and whispers of uncertainty. Greece, now divided, fractured, and trembling in the wake of divine collapse was breathing in a new era.

One not ordained by Olympus, but shaped by mortal hands.

Edward stood at the edge of a jagged cliff overlooking the sea, his arms crossed loosely, the wind tugging at his cloak. The ruins of a temple lay behind him, its marble columns cracked, the statue of Apollo decapitated and lying face-down in the dust. He gazed outward, thoughtful and silent.

This was it, the twilight of the gods had arrived. But what came after? He hadn't killed for power or conquest. He'd ended the tyranny of the Olympians so humanity might rise on its own. Yet in the silence left behind, the people seemed lost. Fractured between awe, fear, and uncertainty.

"I need to witness it," Edward muttered to himself. "Not the smoke or the ruins… the people."

He stepped forward, and in the blink of an eye, Vimana appeared beneath him, gleaming golden and silent like a phantom of the heavens. It responded not to commands, but to will. The vessel lifted into the sky with a hum, and he began a slow, gliding journey over the land of the Hellenes.

Below him sprawled the Aegean Sea, dotted with islands that once bore sacred temples and golden shrines. But now, the sounds rising from them were no longer hymns. In some places, they were cries of jubilation; in others, screams of chaos.

He flew lower.

On a barren island once dedicated to Artemis, a crowd of people gathered around a smoldering temple. The marble deer statue was broken. Priests lay bound. A new symbol crudely painted in red ochre, had been drawn over the temple's gate. A rough man stood on the steps, shouting:

"Θεοί πέθαναν! The gods are dead! Eduardos is our true liberator! Praise be to him."

Some People cheered, some weeping, some laughing with manic joy. Others raised their hands in prayer, not to Olympus, but to the sky toward him.

They had no understanding of who he truly was. They didn't understand he doesn't need or want worship.

Edward hovered in silence, watching as the crowd desecrated the temple in his name. They were chanting with devotion—but it was blind, misdirected. A worship born not of understanding, but desperation.

He turned away, his brows furrowed in unease.

A few miles further, another settlement was less jubilant. Anarchy had taken root. In the absence of divine law, criminals and slavers had risen. They looted the weak and torched homes. Screams echoed from the center of the town as innocent families were dragged into the street.

Edward's eyes narrowed in anger.

With a flick of his wrist, the sky shimmered.

From thin air, the Gate of Babylon tore itself open, an array of floating golden portals humming with energy.

One opened. From it emerged a single shining javelin—modest compared to the arsenal within, but still more than enough. It flew like a beam of light, striking the ground in front of the bandits.

A heartbeat later, fire consumed them.

The weapon detonated not with a scream of fury, but a quiet precision. The evil was purged in a single breath. The villagers stared, first in shock, then in stunned awe. Slowly, one woman raised her hand toward the sky.

"Εδουάρδος…" she whispered. "Edouárdos."

The name spread like wildfire.

"Εδουάρδος!"

"Hero of mankind!"

"Protector of the free!"

Children gathered together, pointing upward at his divine chariot with wide, sparkling eyes. "He flies like a star! That's him! The one who slew the gods!"

Some fell to their knees in prayer. Others shouted to the heavens. A chant began: "Have no fear or regret, the hero Εδουάρδος watches over us!"

It caught like wind on dry grass. Across rooftops, marketplaces, fields, and roads, the chant echoed. From one city-state to the next, it gained rhythm. Hope took shape. Where fear once ruled, now came unity.

Edward flew onward. He said nothing, but his heart stirred.

The polis of Thebes passed beneath him. Then Argos. Then the broken fields where Sparta once sharpened its blades. In each place, the people gazed up, some shielding their eyes from the sun, others already bearing hand-drawn banners depicting his silhouette.

Farmers bowed. Smiths clutched their hammers to their chests in reverence.

And somewhere, a group of boys ran barefoot through the dust, shouting, "I'm Edouárdos!" "No, I'm Edouárdos!" They fought with wooden sticks and paper shields, chasing imaginary monsters.

He smiled, faintly.

He hadn't sought this. Had never asked for worship. But perhaps… perhaps it was inevitable. Humanity needed symbols. And in the vacuum of Olympus, they turned to the one who destroyed it.

On a quiet hillside near Delphi, a group of scribes knelt before a parchment stretched on smooth bark. They didn't look up as he flew overhead. But they wrote, quickly, hungrily.

"And on the seventh day after the fall of the gods, the Hero Edouárdos flew over the earth on a chariot of gold. He watched with eyes that wept for man, yet struck down evil with righteous fire. In him there was no godly arrogance, but something far greater: mercy forged by pain, strength tempered by restraint."

A painter crouched in a port town by the sea, eyes fixed to the sky as he furiously mixed his colors. He worked without sketch or hesitation. On the canvas: a lone figure silhouetted against the sun, his crimson-lined cloak billowing, his expression calm yet distant. Below, the people stretched hands upward. Hope. Wonder. Mourning.

In a tavern in Athens, a drunkard slammed his cup down and declared, "The age of gods is done! But that man… that one ain't no tyrant. He don't want temples or worship. He just watches over us, like a parent watching their children. Like he's waitin' to see what we'll do next."

Indeed, Edward said nothing.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting the land in amber glow, he guided Vimana slowly across the sky. His gaze fell not on temples or monuments, but on people, mothers tucking their children in, farmers gathering wheat, old men whispering stories of the day the heavens changed.

A quiet silence descended as twilight crept in.

He floated above the clouds for a moment, letting the wind wash over him. The voices below still echoed faintly. His name, his image… his shadow.

He sighed deeply.

He had destroyed Olympus, but what rose in its place was still unknown. The age of gods had ended—but the age of man had just begun. He had given them freedom, but it would be up to them what they did with it.

And he would watch quietly, vigilantly from above.

Hoping.

Perhaps this time… they would choose better.

Perhaps this time… they would build something that lasted.

And far below, across the scattered cities of Greece, the people whispered to one another as night fell:

"Have no fear or regret. Walk forward with your head held high. The hero watches over us."

Mothers told their children stories, how the hero slayed gods to free humanity. How he took upon the burden to watch over them. He will be always there , watching over them, guide them and protect them.

Thousands of years later, The ceilings Sistine Chapel would be painted by a talented artist named MichelAngelo during the Renaissance era. Among many of his amazing works, one would become more famous than the others due it's mystery and beauty.

It would be later known as "Hope", depicting an image of an ancient man riding a divine construct , flying over the sky, watching below with a gentle smile, as the humans below raised their arms to reach towards him. After he finished his work , it was said he stared it with a proud smile as tears fell from his eyes as he muttered," Perfection."

Many would ask him later , about what he truly tried to say through this painting. Some assumed it was a symbolic work like his many other masterpieces. Some even predicted it's an art depicting a pagan myth, which would cause much controversy.

But he never gave an answer , just smiled as if nothing else needed to be said about it. Shortly after, he would pass away , and a grand funeral would be held in his honor. It rained heavily that day, as the sky was mourning.

But suddenly, the sky parted clear of the clouds as if someone had sliced through them, revealing the bright sun. In that dazzling light , many people swore they saw a golden streak of light soaring across the sky. But it was never known if it's truth or just an illusion.

****

Night had fallen softly over the ancient Aegean. The deep indigo sky stretched infinitely above, speckled with silver stars that shimmered like fragments of shattered divine thrones. Below, the dark sea whispered against scattered island coasts, its currents gentle in the absence of storms—divine or otherwise.

High above the world, gliding silently upon the golden chariot Vimana, Edward stood alone. His figure was tall and silent, arms crossed as the wind curled around him, his eyes fixed on the horizon where sea met sky. The remnants of starlight glimmered off the celestial metal of his armor. He wasn't watching the sea.

He was staring into the void beyond the stars.

Beyond the shattered throne of Olympus, beyond this scarred land of mortals and broken gods—he knew there were others. Civilizations yet untouched by fire or freedom.

Beings that existed outside of mortal comprehension. Entities that had no stake in humanity's struggles, yet could snuff out entire worlds if they chose.

His gaze narrowed slightly. The skies were peaceful now, but peace was always fleeting. Something would come again—something darker, hungrier than gods.

"Will they be ready by then?" he murmured to himself. "Can they… stand even without me?"

The question lingered in his mind like smoke.

Then came the spark.

A thought.

A possibility.

"What if humans could learn magecraft?" he whispered, half to himself, half to the winds. "Not the old ways drenched in blood and tyranny… but a new path. One rooted in protection, in remembrance... in the spirit of heroes."

His brows furrowed as his mind raced. "The gods feared it, stripped it from them out of fear… but maybe it's time."

He turned away from the horizon and walked slowly along the edge of the chariot, hands behind his back. The golden plating beneath his boots hummed with ancient energy, the remnants of Gilgamesh's divine gift.

He exhaled slowly. "If I could establish a system—something that allows mankind to channel the essence of those who came before, to embody the will and strength of their heroes…"

His voice trailed off, but the idea didn't fade. It burned brighter.

He remembered Caster, the sorcerer, the brilliant archive of untold knowledge.

Every spell, every ritual, every method and theory of thaumaturgy had been etched into Edward's soul through his pact. He bore a library in his mind now, vast and ancient, arcane and deep.

"If the right people wield that knowledge…" he whispered again, "…it could change everything."

He could already imagine it, a generation of protectors, each one carrying the spirit of humanity's greatest, wielding their strength not as weapons of conquest, but shields against oblivion.

Heroes reborn not through bloodlines… but through ideals.

He exhaled through his nose, his features finally relaxing. "But first," he said, "I must watch them. Guide them if needed. See if they're ready."

He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to meditate. The Vimana drifted silently across the night sky, a lone sentinel watching over the fragile world below.

***

But far from the sky, across the waters and deep into the heart of a paradise untouched by men, Themiscyra was anything but peaceful.

While Edward watched over mortals, unaware of the ripples his absence had left behind, chaos simmered gently beneath marble columns and lush canopies.

Queen Hippolyta stood alone on her palace balcony, the warm breeze brushing against her golden hair as she gazed out toward the eastern horizon. Her armor was polished, her posture proud, but her eyes betrayed her.

They searched the sky.

Since Edward had rescued her, since she witnessed his fury, his strength, his conviction… something had shifted inside her. The queen of the Amazons had always been unshakable, her heart bound only to her people.

But now…

Now she waited.

The warriors noticed. Whispers flowed like quiet rivers among the marble halls and torch-lit corridors. "The queen has fallen for a man," they said in disbelief. Some said it with teasing smiles, others in hushed concern. For an Amazon, that was no small matter.

Even her daughter Diana, young and curious, had caught on.

One morning, she approached her mother as they stood in the royal gardens.

"Mother," the girl asked, tilting her head, "who are you always waiting for lately? You look at the sky so much these days."

Hippolyta had paused, caught mid-thought. A rare blush touched her cheeks, but she hid it quickly behind a smile. "No one, my little sun," she replied, brushing a black curl from Diana's face. "I just… enjoy the view."

Diana persisted, " Is it true that you found someone outside ? Didn't you always say never to trust a man easily? "

Hippolyta smiled warmly patted her head , " Yes my dear. But maybe some of them, someone special, deserve our trust... and more."

Diana had stared at her mother, skeptical. But she let it go, for now.

Days passed, and then came a surprise.

From the skies, a glowing chariot descended just outside Themiscyra's main gates.

Out stepped Hera, Queen of Olympus. Regal and radiant, she walked among the Amazons as if the earth itself moved to meet her. They bowed, of course. She had always been their respected patron goddess.

But something was… different.

Gone was the cold aloofness. Hera's stride was still majestic, her beauty untouched by time, but there was a warmth to her now. A softness in her eyes that unsettled many.

Some of the younger warriors even remarked in whispers, "She looks somewhat ... like Queen Hippolyta?"

"She smiled at me! She never even looked at us before."

"What is happening out there!"

She greeted Hippolyta with the usual grace and ceremony, but once inside the palace, things unraveled quickly.

The argument began in the Royal chambers. Voices raised. Shouts echoing off walls thick with tradition and pride.

"You dare claim him for yourself? When you are already married!" Hippolyta's voice thundered behind closed doors. "You knew how I feel about him!"

"And I professed my love to him first! I was his first woman." Hera snapped back, her voice crackling with divine wrath. " I have severed my marriage with Zeus. I only accept him as my husband. He is not yours to keep, Hippolyta. He is mine by bond, by choice, by heart!"

"You're a goddess! You've could find a thousand lovers and more, other than Zeus! Why him?!" Hippolyta smashed a vase in anger, yet the pain in her heart was deeper.

"Because he didn't want a goddess!" Hera's voice cracked with something rare, vulnerability. "He looked at me not as a deity… but as a woman. He has absolute control over my will, yet he didn't exploit that. And for the first time in eons… I felt seen. My heart belongs to him, and it always will. "

There was a beat of silence before Hippolyta stormed away in fury.

Outside, the Amazons waited in uneasy tension. No one dared enter.

Inside, the storm subsided… barely.

Then came the bold declaration. They all heard it. The end of the Greek pantheon. The promise to watch over humanity, expecting nothing in return. Flying through the sky , regal yet alone , observing what became of his choice.

Hippolyta waited anxiously in her balcony, waiting to see if he was coming back, to her. Yet it wasn't he who arrived, it was Hera, who was perhaps the only one who knew how she felt.

"If you truly love him," Hera said calmly, voice soft , "then you should understand. He belongs to the world now. To mankind. Not just to you. Or me."

Hippolyta said nothing. Her back was to Hera. But her fists were clenched. " Doesn't matter, he is the only man I acknowledge. We will be together, even if it means I scouring the Earth for him."

Hera chuckled softly, " Don't worry Hippolyta. I won't snatch him away from you, although my body and soul yearns it. We can atleast communicate with him with the ring I have left him. Although he never professed his love, he isn't someone who will abandon a woman who loves him wholeheartedly."

Hippolyta asked softly, " Have you spoken to him ? "

Hera shook her head , " No. But I don't think he is ready to return...yet. My beloved is a rather complicated person, his thoughts beyond my comprehension. But maybe that's why, I feel the desire to know more about him, hold him in my arms, comfort him. "

She closed her eyes in resignation, " how foolish of me, to give my heart to a man who is such a mystery. But perhaps it's fate , for I learned what is love after eons of existing."

Hippolyta sighed and glanced toward the setting sun, and muttered, " When you will you return , Edward?"

The chamber remained thick with unspoken pain, jealousy, and longing.

The Amazons, though kept in the dark, could sense it. They felt the tremors of the quarrel in the air, in their queen's silence, in the goddess's resolution.

Fortunately, the storm didn't become a war. But its aftershocks lingered, an invisible bond between queen and goddess, forged by the same man they both loved.

Edward, floating above the world, had no idea how he had managed to alter the fates of so many people.

He drifted quietly among the stars, pondering the future of mankind, unaware that two anxious hearts waited below, bound by longing, pride, and a shared ache for the hero who defied Olympus.

And though the gods had fallen… the affairs of the heart were wars of their own.

****

So Edward's journey truly begins. And this also marks the end of Volume 1 . The foundation has been set. There are so many historical events to explore, which is will change the future drastically.

So many things to do, people to troll, booties to claim. Sigh....

Really appreciate the support and excitement you guys have shown for this story. I'll continue to give you guys something exciting and unique to read that will last in your head.

Let me know your thoughts in comments. Leave a review if you love the story so far. Also, feel free to share your ideas on which historical events from 1200 BCE till 100 CE(AD) you find interesting and would love to read more about.

Ancient Rome and Egypt would be fun to explore. And Japan . Maybe Britannia. I already have a fateful meeting set there. 😉But the rest I'm still pondering over.

As for Harem poll : I have checked the list and boy I'm mad. Ya'll really trolled me even when I said only one vote per persion to maintain fairness. So I had to separate those extra votes and recalculate everything .....which took away time from writing this chapter.

But I can understand the excitement lol just keep it in your pants for now champ xD

Even then it was a lot, and some were tied, so I just shortened it more as I have a couple options in mind from Nasuverse as well. I'm trying to keep it low as despite his long life, it doesn't mean he should have a lot of women if he can't spend time with all them properly.

Plus he will travel...a lot. He will live different lives, some maybe as regular human, some as something more. This AU will make so much sense when the reason for Edward's arrival is revealed.

Or maybe I'll pull an Oda and keep you folks guessing for 20 FRIGGIN years ! People are gonna be so pissed when one piece is finally revealed😂

Getting sidetracked lol. Okay, So here it goes.

PLEASE ONLY ONE CHOICE Per Person ! Thank you!

Tiamat

Gorgon

Artoria Lancer

Scathach

Quetzalcoatl

I'll count later, and pick the top 2 probably. With this, harem stuff should out of the way and I can focus on the fun bits. I'm doing this now so they can be fit into the later parts .

Btw, Edward's class will be Grand Savior or Ruler in Throne of Heroes.