Harry stared at the Heretic God standing before him on the fog-slicked pier, his fingers tightening instinctively around the hilt of the dagger resting against his shoulder. The weapon's edge thrummed with a faint light as his divine power flowed into it.
Athena.
He had recognized her the instant he saw her. She looked like a girl in her early teens, with short, shimmering silver hair that caught the moonlight and violet eyes that held the depth of an endless, starless night. Those eyes that seemed to hold no warmth or emotion at all, as if staring into a dark abyss.
He knew she had been roaming the world ever since her climactic battle with Kusanagi Godou years ago. Among the Heretic Gods, Athena was a unique heretic god who had found a peculiar sort of peace, or perhaps just a very persistent obsession with a mortal man. Godou Kusunagi.
She was the first recorded case of a Heretic God who had actually defeated a Campione in a battle and yet chose not to slay him.
Godou had bested her during their first encounter, but in his typical, infuriatingly heroic fashion, he had spared her life.
That act of mercy had seemingly broken something in the goddess. She had become obsessed with him, chasing him wherever he went, watching him from afar, and demanding rematches.
When their rematch finally came, Athena had stood over a fallen Godou as the victor... and she had simply walked away, leaving him with a gift of divine wisdom.
It may seem like she was a reasonable god because of that, but Harry, however, didn't buy that illusion for a single second.
She might be soft on Godou, but to any other Campione and the world around her, she was still a walking natural disaster. Her very existence made Harry's skin crawl, it was that natural, primal sensation, the itch at the back of his mind that screamed enemy whenever a heretic god was close by.
Every instinct he possessed as a Godslayer was clawing at his insides, demanding he strike before she did. It was just how it was, the nature of the two, slayer and god, were opposed, a clash of opposing natures that Godou somehow managed to ignore daily, having her by his side.
Harry honestly didn't understand how the Japanese boy could stand having her around. Living with that constant itch of a god's presence at the back of his mind would have driven most men into a homicidal frenzy within a week.
Harry kept his emerald eyes locked on her small, motionless frame as she stared back with an utterly blank expression, her knit cap pulled low over her silver hair.
"What are you doing here, Athena?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He tapped his dagger lightly against his shoulder, the metal ringing with a sharp, hollow sound that echoed across the water.
"Curious," she replied. Her tone was flat, devoid of the theatrical arrogance or booming loudness usually found in her kin.
"Oh? Curious about what?" Harry asked, his grip shifting on his blade as he calculated the distance for a blink-strike.
"You."
She tilted her head slightly as she spoke, the movement eerily bird-like, reminiscent of the owls that served as her symbols. Harry's muscles locked tight, divine power beginning to simmer beneath his skin.
Why him? As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to do with her or the "Kusanagi circle." He had made it a point to stay out of the way of his so-called "siblings."
He wanted no part of the Campione family drama, so he didn't even make an effort to get to know his 'siblings'.
The only exceptions to his self-imposed isolation were that black-haired bastard prince, Alec, and the battle-maniac Doni.
Doni was tolerable in small doses, annoying, loud, and prone to accidentally destroying city blocks, but at least his motivations were simple.
But Alec? Alec always seemed to manifest at the exact moment Harry was busiest, poking and prodding with that smug, intellectual superiority that made Harry want to level a mountain range just to vent his frustration.
Just thinking about the man's uncanny talent for appearing where he wasn't wanted was giving Harry a phantom migraine. The only joy Harry had when the man came was the frown the man normally left with whenever he lost to Harry.
He cleared his mind, shoving the thought of Alec aside to focus on the silver-haired goddess who was currently trespassing on his peace.
"And why me?" he asked again, his voice echoing strangely in the fog.
Athena remained silent for a few moments, the only sound the rhythmic lapping of the Thames against the wooden pilings. Then, she began to walk toward him. Harry's power flared, a faint green aura flickering around his boots, but she stopped just outside his reach. She began to circle him slowly, her violet eyes scanning him with the clinical detachment of a scientist examining a new species of insect.
"Different," she said at last.
"What?"
"Different from the others," she clarified, her voice barely a whisper.
Harry frowned, his eyes following her every step as he kept his front toward her. "The others? You mean my siblings? The other Campione?"
"Yes," Athena replied, coming to a halt directly in front of him. Her presence was stifling now, the air tasting of ozone and stone. "You feel… different."
She moved to stand just an arm's length away. Harry's senses were screaming.
Then, in a blur of movement that was no doubt too fast for normal human perception, her great black scythe manifested in her hands. Harry was already pulling his divine authority to the surface, the air around him distorting from the sheer pressure of his aura—
But Athena didn't lunge. In one smooth, almost lazy motion, she sliced the air in front of her. It tore like cheap silk, revealing a swirling purple abyss of darkness. It was different from his own rifts, Harry noticed.
Before Harry could even process the move, she stepped forward into the dark rift and vanished. The space snapped shut instantly, leaving the pier silent and empty once more, save for the drifting fog.
"What the hell just happened?" Harry muttered, standing alone on the pier. No presence remained. She was gone. It was as if she had never been there at all.
With a deep scowl, he unsummoned his dagger and let out a long, slow breath. Whatever Athena wanted, she hadn't said it, and the mystery of her visit bothered him far more than an actual fight would have.
By the time Harry returned to the Manor that evening, the encounter with Athena was still looping in the back of his mind. However, the sight that greeted him in the dining room pushed the goddess aside instantly.
Daphne, Tonks, and Anya were all seated around the table. Their faces were set in expressions of such grim, absolute seriousness that Harry instinctively checked the wards to see if they had been attacked or something.
He slowed his pace, stretching out his senses. No hostile magic. No intruders. No physical danger. Just… an atmosphere so thick with tension he could have cut it with a simple Diffindo.
"Hey," he said cautiously, hovering in the doorway like a trespasser in his own home. "Is everything okay? Did something happen while I was out?"
"We're fine, dear," Daphne replied. Her voice was sharp, dangerously sharp, the kind of tone she used right before she systematically dismantled a person's reputation.
"You sure?" Harry asked, taking a tentative step forward, his hand still resting near his pockets. "Because this doesn't look like a casual chat." 'damn right it doesn't. It looks like a war council' he thought.
"Totally fine," Tonks cut in, offering a bright, plastic smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Harry. We're just having some 'girl time.' Go on, scoot."
Was he being shooed away in his own home?
Harry stared.
He turned his gaze to the final person at the table, hoping for some sanity.
"Anya?"
"Don't worry about us, Harry," Anya said calmly, her eyes never leaving the table like the others.
Harry felt a genuine chill run down his spine. 'She just called me Harry.'
Anya almost never used his name in the house. She usually spent her time teasing him with "My Lord," "My King," or "Master" just to see him roll his eyes and falter.
When she dropped the playfulness and used his name, it usually meant she was in "Mission Mode." or something like that.
Something very big was happening.
Harry hesitated, wanting to ask more, but his survival instincts told him that to stay would be to invite a calamity he wasn't prepared for. Whatever was happening on that table was beyond him, and it would be better to stay away for now.
"Alright then… I'll, uh, be in the lab. If you need me."
He retreated quickly, practically fleeing to the basement and sealing the heavy oak door behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, Daphne reached for a massive, leather-bound book and slammed it onto the table with a resounding thud.
"So, it's decided then?" she asked, looking from Tonks to Anya with a fierce, burning intensity.
Both women nodded with identical looks of determination.
"Good," Daphne said, opening the book. The first page was blank, save for three words written at the top in deep, blood-red ink, WEDDING PLANS.
The three of them had reached a consensus that. A three-in-one wedding. They would stand together, as sisters-in-arms. And now that the decision was made, it was time for the planning, and they were going to execute it with the same ruthlessness Harry used on gods.
This was their big day, and woe betide any guest, caterer, or Ministry official who dared to let a single detail fall out of place. They would rain a special kind of divine calamity down upon anyone who messed with their vision of perfection.
Down in the lab, Harry leaned against his worktable, closing his eyes to clear the lingering image of Athena and his girls' terrifyingly focused expression.
Well, here he was, it was time for his little project.
This was something he was making for his girls. The girls likely thought he didn't care much about the details for their weddings or something like that.
They were half-right, but that was more on the whole guy's wedding planning thing, not because he didn't care. But they were wrong if they thought that day didn't matter to him.
This was something he had been planning to craft for them for a while now and was just working out the details.
Harry extended his hand, calling upon his Authority over the earth. Deep beneath the manor, the ground groaned and shifted as he reached for the purest stones beneath the earth.
He drew them upward, and a handful of raw, uncut gems were brought forth, putting them on his table. There were dozens, but after a while, he decided on which ones he wanted to use. diamonds clear as starlight, emeralds deep as his own eyes, and amethysts that pulsed with a soft, violet light.
Then, he began to work.
He carved the stones into beautiful forms and then brought forth metal and molded, shaped three delicate bands from them.
Each was etched with a unique, intricate pattern, vines for Daphne, geometric prisms for Tonks, and the beautiful carvings of suns for Anya. It took over an hour of painstaking, silent focus. Harry didn't rush a single moment, these weren't just the usual trinkets he played with, no, these were for his girls they had to be special.
Finally, after the carving was done, he inspected them to make sure they were perfect before moving on to the next task. He rolled up his sleeves and activated Odin's Wisdom.
Slowly and with precision, he carved the runes into the inner bands of each ring.
A small, genuinely happy smile touched his lips as he worked on his gift for his girls.
"This," he whispered to the empty lab, "is going to be one hell of a surprise."
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