The gods were no longer amused.
To be feared was natural.
To be challenged was expected.
But to be ignored?
That was unforgivable.
Across the fractured battlefield, as the Hive focused every drop of its colossal will on consuming Zion, the pantheons stared in stunned silence…
And then, fury.
The Sky Cracks
The first blow came from the Aesir—a strike from the Spear of All-Father that split the clouds and shattered three Hive monoliths in one breath.
Then came the fire of the Kemetic Sun, as Ra screamed through the sky like a phoenix made of wrath and memory, scorching the horizon with ancient light.
Yoruba thunder, Shinto storms, Aztec eclipses, and Celtic wails followed.
The earth itself screamed under the weight of their power.
And through it all, the gods burned.
They would not allow lesser beasts to choose their battlefield.
They would not stand by while the Hive pretended they no longer mattered.
Papa Legba Steps Forward
But it was Papa Legba, ancient and amused, who acted with intention.
He stood still at first, watching the Hive Queen with eyes as old as creation.
And then, he vanished.
He reappeared before her—within her hive, the walls pulsing and alive with instinctual panic. The Queen flinched. Her guards moved to protect her.
Too late.
Papa Legba had already tapped his cane three times.
And whispered.
"You forgot your manners, ma jolie. Now let me show you why they lock our monsters."
A great wind howled behind him as space folded inward—not with violence, but with finality.
The Forbidden Door
Every god, every Lwa, every spirit—froze.
Even Twaile paused mid-slaughter. Bosou dropped his peanut gourd. Maman Ginen looked skyward.
"The Forbidden Door… has been opened."
The Jail of Ginen—the deepest sealed chamber beneath reality—groaned.
Papa Legba, smiling but grave, held the Queen's gaze as behind him, the door unlocked not with chains or seals, but with songs long forbidden.
And something… slithered free.
"Baka la Kwa."
The Bone-Eating Thing.
The Hunger that Laughs.
The Forgotten Child of Ginen—too dangerous to destroy, too defiled to release.
And Papa Legba, with a chuckle full of shadow and knowing, whispered to the Queen:
"You want to taste the king, eh? Let's see how you taste to the king's leftovers."
The Unleashing
The Hive Queen screamed.
Not in pain.
Not in rage.
But in instinctual terror—
—for in all her devouring, she had never seen anything that devoured back.
Baka la Kwa lunged forward, eyes blacker than void, bones sharp as prophecy, hunger wrapped in song. It laughed, and that laugh made the Hive wither.
Walls crumbled.
Eggs shattered.
The Queen turned to run—
Papa Legba tapped his cane again.
"Non. You stay."
Across the Battlefield
The gods rampaged.
No longer holding back.
No more careful blessings or divine restraint.
Ogou Feray tore through the Hive's elite like a beast reborn.
Erzulie, face unreadable, danced through the battlefield with blades dripping honeyed death.
Baron Samedi laughed so hard it echoed from the bones of the planet.
Twaile walked across the heads of Hive beasts, her silence louder than any roar, blood clinging to her fingers like wine.
Bosou grinned and asked, "Who's cooking tonight?" before punching a Hive juggernaut into vapor.
Zion Still
Zion stood still, the center of the storm.
The Hive still wanted him.
But now, it had made the gravest mistake of all.
It had made itself the enemy of the gods.