A Gangster Paradise

The Hall of Eternity stood as it always had—grandiose, endless, and suffocatingly self-important. Marble pillars stretched skyward into a void of shimmering stars, their celestial glow bathing the chamber in a pale light. 

A chorus of bronze bells tolled solemnly, as if heralding the arrival of some great hero.

As the resonant clanging of bronze bells died down, an imposing, golden-haired deity addressed the young man standing in the center of the hall.

"Well done, my boy!" He boomed, his deep voice echoing through the grand marble space. "Another world saved from certain destruction. You've done your duty well!"

The young man, his striking blue hair catching the dim, ambient light, gave a snort of dissatisfaction. His dreamy green eyes hardened, their icy edge warning anyone nearby to keep their distance. He crossed his arms and sneered.

"Spare me the platitudes. Just tell me where I'm headed next. Let's get this over with. Is it some dying planet, a realm overrun with undead, or maybe a nice, cozy apocalypse?"

The blonde deity's grin faded slightly as a figure across the hall shifted. A tall, sharp-featured god, black-haired and robed in emerald with gold trim, adjusted his glinting spectacles and fixed his gaze on the young man. His voice carried an edge of scorn as he spoke.

"Watch your tone, mortal. You stand before the divine. A champion should know his place."

"Please, Morvos, don't be so harsh on him," cooed a lilting voice.

A beautiful goddess with shimmering blue hair and pearly eyes stood to the young man's right, her smile both playful and calming. She wrapped her hands together, tilting her head at Morvos with a pout.

"Honestly, darling," She added with a giggle, "He has earned a little leeway, hasn't he?"

Morvos' glare only intensified, his fingers twitching with impatience. "That's precisely the problem, Alis! This child has grown far too comfortable addressing us like we're his equals."

The young man rolled his eyes, his mouth twisting into a sardonic grin. "Don't flatter yourself, Morvos. I have no desire to be your equal—much less put up with your face for eternity. Spare us all and get some supplements; maybe you'll have a little more success with your… what's it called? Domestic bliss."

A ripple of shock spread through the hall. Morvos' face darkened, his eyes flaring with righteous fury. He lifted a hand, and an unseen pressure bore down on the young man, twisting the air around him as if preparing to crush him on the spot. The entire assembly seemed to hold its breath.

But the young man didn't flinch. With a simple wave of his hand, he dispelled the force and stared back at Morvos, unimpressed.

"Enough!" The commanding voice of the golden-haired god rang out, silencing the growing storm. His piercing black eyes turned to the young man, his tone becoming slightly reproachful.

"Show some respect, lad. These are your seniors, after all."

The young man's mask of indifference cracked, and frustration bubbled to the surface.

"Respect? Do I look like I signed up for this?"

His voice rose, a bitter edge clear to everyone. "It was that friend of yours who fooled me, handed me some ridiculous 'powers,' and dumped a mountain of responsibility in my lap. I don't even believe in gods, yet here I am! A 'God of War,' of all things!"

The assembled gods exchanged glances, some pitying, others intrigued by his outburst.

Alis placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, her touch warm and soothing. She leaned in close, whispering in a soft, musical voice, "Dear, I know it's been difficult. Just hold on a bit longer."

Despite his frustration, her voice softened his expression, if only slightly. He sighed, shrugging off the weight of her touch.

"Fine," He muttered, his tone resigned. "If I'm truly stuck with this, the least you could do is make it bearable. I want a break, a real one. And take these powers back—I never asked for them anyway."

The golden-haired god chuckled heartily, his laughter resonating through the hall. "A vacation, is it? Alis is right; you could certainly use one."

He looked around at the other gods. "What do you all think?"

Morvos immediately raised his hand. "In favor of appointing a new God of War and putting this disrespectful mortal in his place. I've had quite enough of him."

Alis raised an eyebrow at him, unamused. "Your suggestion would go over quite well… with the divorce papers I'd help your wife prepare."

Morvos' face turned an impressive shade of crimson as he scowled, yet he remained silent, lips pressed into a tight line.

One by one, the gods gave their opinions, with most favoring the idea of granting the young man a break. The golden-haired deity stroked his beard thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Well, it's settled. You're going on a holiday," He announced grandly. "And I know just the place—a world where you can finally relax… though it has its own quirks. But there is one condition."

The young man eyed him warily. "What is it?"

The god's gaze turned serious. "You can only take three of your powers with you. Choose wisely."

Alis leaned in again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, her voice a playful whisper. "How about taking your battle skills, hmm? Can't have a God of War without them."

The young man's resolve faltered as he felt her warmth against him, and her suggestion sounded reasonable.

"Fine," he agreed. "One power down."

Alis gave a soft laugh, running a finger along his arm. "You can thank me later. I expect to be properly repaid."

With a resigned sigh, he nodded, determined not to get further entangled in her charms.

"And for the second one—unlimited money," he said decisively.

The blonde god raised an eyebrow. "Money? An unusual request for a god."

"It's a vacation, right? I'm not about to spend it scrounging around for pocket change," He replied, his tone as dismissive as ever. "After thousands of lives spent cleaning up after everyone, I'm going to live comfortably for once."

"Fufufu.... it seems everyone had bullied you way too much. Here, Sister will give you this." Alis, amused, put her fingers between her big breasts and pulled out a shining golden card, giving it to him.

"With this, you can spend as much as you can. Just go and have fun!"

He accepted it with a small nod of thanks, feeling the rare warmth of gratitude toward her.

"Enough of the fanfare!" Morvos snapped impatiently. "What's the final power you're bringing?"

The young man's gaze turned calculating. "The power to stop time."

At this, a murmur of surprise rippled through the hall. Morvos glared, immediately raising an objection. "Absolutely not. Giving a mortal time control is—"

"Are you denying his service?" Alis interrupted with a smirk. "If anyone here deserves a boon, it's him."

The golden-haired deity stroked his beard, considering. "You may have it… with restrictions. You'll be able to stop time for no more than three seconds, twice per day. Alternatively, you can slow or accelerate the flow of time by a factor of eight."

The young man's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded, accepting the compromise. Alis took the opportunity to press a soft kiss to his cheek, drawing envious stares from some of the gods. She licked her lips, her voice a low murmur. "Enjoy yourself. And remember to behave… with the ladies."

The young man grimaced and shot her a look but refrained from commenting. Just as he was about to step away, he glanced back at the group of gods, his face a mask of irritation.

"Let's hope this vacation lives up to your promises."

The golden-haired deity raised his hand, summoning a swirl of ethereal energy that enveloped the young man.

"Enjoy your time away, God of War," he said with a smile. The hall filled with a brilliant flash as the young man vanished.

In the sudden silence that followed, Alis chuckled softly.

"He's already missed," She murmured with a mischievous smile.

Morvos snorted, folding his arms. "Good riddance, if you ask me."

The golden-haired god sighed, his expression growing pensive as he looked at Alis. "Sometimes I wonder if we made the right choice…"

"Have faith, Adam," Alis said, her gaze softening. "He's proven himself, time and again. We owe him this much."

The gods fell into silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts, some with a hint of regret, others with relief.

Only Alis seemed undisturbed, a secretive smile playing at her lips as she gazed at the empty spot where the young man had stood, her eyes distant with thoughts known only to her.