The Meeting of the Gods

The Stone Temple had never seen such power.

Built from slabs taken from the bones of the fallen titans, its pillars were carved with the names of those who remembered the First Fire. It had withstood storms, time, and grief—but today, it shuddered beneath the weight of divinity.

Zion stood at its heart, the Gate just behind him, and the sigils of Papa Legba, Erzulie, Baron Samedi, Maman Brigitte, Ogou, Ayizan still glowing faint on the walls.

The Pantheon of Nouvo Lakay stood at his side:

Erzulie Freda, draped in silks and cold fury.

Baron Samedi, silent, arms crossed, eyes sharp behind his eternal grin.

Ogou, now once again in human shape, blade at his back, gaze steady.

Maman Brigitte, her steps echoing like judgment.

Ayizan, veiled and unreadable.

And beside them stood Zion—not as a god, but as the chosen flame, the anchor between gods and mortals.

"Let them enter," he said.

And they came.

II. The Procession of Power

From distant lands, skies, seas, and stars, they arrived:

The Stone-Tongued God of the Southern Pillars, speaking through living granite.

Lady Nyume of the Dreaming Vault, who never opened her eyes, yet saw all.

Tzu-Kaar, Father of Wounds, bound in chains he refused to remove.

The Eight-Feathered Serpent, who had once swallowed a moon.

Nkoshi the Weaver, who spun time itself like thread from her fingers.

The Sons of the Burned Forest, twin fire spirits who spoke in chorus.

Gods of the Sand Teeth, of the Lightning Choir, of the Endless Feast, of Memory and Clay, and Unnamed Ones, carried by their shamans on wordless song.

Some walked.

Some flew.

Some manifested only as whispers, flames, or music.

Some did not come alone.

But all came.

Because Zion had killed a god.

III. A Firelit Assembly

Within the temple, a circle was drawn in salt, blood, and fire. No god sat above the other. No throne rose higher than another.

This was Zion's demand.

The gods did not like it.

But they obeyed.

"You called us," boomed the Stone-Tongued God.

"You executed a peer," hissed Tzu-Kaar.

"You've stirred the old balances," whispered Lady Nyume without moving her lips.

"You seek to change what was never meant to be touched," said the Eight-Feathered Serpent.

Zion stepped forward. His voice did not rise—but it carried.

"I did what your laws refused to do.

He cheated. He violated the duel. He broke the sacred bonds in pursuit of domination.

I did not act to challenge you. I acted because I will not watch my people become toys in the games of forgotten gods."

Baron Samedi chuckled.

"And now we're all here. Funny how murder invites honesty."

IV. The Question

"What do you want?" asked Nkoshi the Weaver, fingers glowing with the threads of fate.

Zion turned, not just to the gods—but to his own.

"What I want is peace built on respect.

What I ask is a covenant—not of worship, but of boundaries.

If you wish to walk this world, let it be with rules.

No forced sigils. No corrupted bloodlines. No games of power in mortal skin.

Let us draw lines, together. Or more gods will fall—not because I hunt them—but because the world will rise up."

V. Silence, Then Sound

No god spoke first.

Until Lady Nyume, eyes still shut, said quietly:

"I see… echoes of truth in him."

Then the Serpent flicked its tongue and added:

"And fire enough to test us all."

Finally, Nkoshi the Weaver nodded.

"Then let the Covenant Assembly begin. Three nights. Three questions. Three decisions."

The meeting of the gods had not ended.

It had only begun.