The mischievous gamer God

On a foggy, moonlit night, Artemis prowled silently through the dense forest.

Tonight, she wasn't hunting monsters—she was tracking whatever was. For months now, the monster population had been dwindling unnaturally, and whoever was behind it covered their tracks with expert precision.

The woods around her were dark and wild, the towering trees shrouded in mist. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in thin, silvery beams, casting eerie shadows across the mossy ground. The air was cool, quiet, and heavy with tension.

Suddenly, the distant sound of battle broke the silence—steel clashing, a roar, heavy impacts.

Artemis sprinted toward the noise, weaving soundlessly through underbrush until she reached a clearing.

There, bathed in moonlight, stood a towering figure clad in bone-white plate armor—jagged, rune-marked, and monstrous in design. His helm was smooth and faceless, eyes glowing cold blue. On his back was a massive ōdachi, nearly as long as he was tall.

Before him, a Cyclops charged—bellowing rage, its mossy hide rippling with muscle.

The warrior moved with inhuman speed. In one clean motion, he sidestepped and slashed, his blade cleaving through the Cyclops' leg. The beast crashed to the earth with a thunderous boom.

Hidden among the trees, Artemis narrowed her eyes.

She had found her answer.

And he was not human.

Artemis went to approach the warrior, but just before she could reach him, she heard a cheerful voice right next to her.

"Hey, sis! How you doing?" the voice said, light and casual with a grin behind every word.

She turned her head sharply and scowled. Of course. It was Apollo.

"Apollo—not now. I'm in the middle of something," she snapped, her eyes flicking back toward the armored warrior in the clearing.

Apollo looked past her with mild curiosity, then raised his eyebrows as he spotted the massive figure standing among the carnage.

"Oh yeah," he said nonchalantly, "one of those guys."

Artemis blinked, surprised. "You know what that is?"

"Yep," Apollo said, popping the "p" with a smirk. "A friend of mine created them to trim down the monster population."

Artemis's expression hardened. Her tone turned cold.

"So… a friend of yours is moving in on my territory?"

Apollo lifted his hands in a half-shrug, half-surrender. "Hey, I'm sure it wasn't his intention. He didn't like how many demigods were dying each year, so he wanted to do something about it. And constructs like this one," he gestured toward the clearing, "are the answer he came up with."

There was a pause.

Then Apollo added, more casually, "Anyway—speaking of that friend, he asked me to introduce you to him."

Artemis scoffed, unimpressed, folding her arms. "And what does this friend of yours want with me?"

Apollo's smile returned, but there was a spark of sincerity behind it this time.

"He's got a business proposition. For both of us."

Artemis raised a single, perfectly arched eyebrow, intrigued despite herself.

"Fine," she said coolly. "Take me to him."

Apollo gave a pleased nod, reached out, and placed his hand on her shoulder. In a flash of warm golden light, the two gods vanished.

They arrived in Tet's realm.

Artemis looked around in awe, her silver eyes widening as the world unfolded around her. The divine realm was unlike anything she had seen before—vibrant and surreal. The sky shimmered in a kaleidoscope of shifting colors, like a living painting. Whimsical buildings floated gently through the air, suspended on drifting islands, and gorgeous gardens bloomed with flowers that changed hue with the breeze.

She turned slowly, taking it all in. "This place is…"

"Explore later," Apollo interrupted, walking ahead at a brisk pace. "You're about to walk into one of the most important meetings of your life. Let's not dawdle."

Artemis narrowed her eyes and moved to catch up. "You're unusually serious. Just what's happening?"

Apollo didn't stop. "You'll see when we get there."

They approached a floating island at the center of the realm. Upon it stood two large, globe-shaped monuments, each glowing faintly with divine energy—one representing this universe, and the other the world she had just left behind.

Artemis's eyes widened slightly when she noticed Hermes and Hestia already there, both standing with calm, expectant expressions.

And then she saw him—the god she didn't recognize.

But the moment her eyes landed on him, her instincts flared. She knew. She didn't need to be told.

He wasn't just a powerful god.

He was the god.

The one who ruled the universe.

She immediately grabbed Apollo's arm and pulled him closer, her voice hushed but urgent.

"Did you bring me to a meeting with the god that rules the universe?"

Apollo gave her a small, knowing grin. "I told you it would be the most important meeting of your life."

Then, a bit more seriously, he added, "Do your best to make a good impression. There are several gods on his shit list—and I'd really rather my sister not be on it."

Artemis drew in a long breath, her expression tightening as she mentally prepared herself for the conversation to come.

Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she stepped forward alongside her brother—calm, poised, and ready to face the one being who stood above even the Olympians.

Artemis walked forward with calm poise and gave a respectful bow.

"Greetings," she said clearly. "I am Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, the Moon, Maidens, and Childbirth."

Tet smiled brightly, his expression full of curiosity and mischief, though not unkind.

"Hello, Artemis," he replied warmly. "I am Tet, God of Games—and now, ruler of two universes."

Artemis blinked, visibly taken aback. "Two universes?"

She glanced around again, this time more closely. Her eyes landed on the two glowing globes standing side by side. Slowly, realization dawned on her. These weren't just decorations—they were terminals, each one a living representation of a universe. One was unmistakably her own.

But the other… she didn't recognize it.

Her expression sharpened with curiosity, and she stepped toward the unfamiliar globe, reaching out a hand.

Before she could touch it, Tet raised his hand calmly.

"No," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I'm not sure if I'm going to allow that yet. I need to get a grasp on your character first."

Artemis paused, clearly confused for a moment—but she respectfully lowered her hand and stepped back, nodding silently. Her eyes flicked to Tet, watching him with cool, guarded interest.

Tet gave a small nod of appreciation.

Then, with a wave of his hand, a beautiful ornate table materialized in the center of the floating island, surrounded by elegant, high-backed chairs crafted from glowing crystal and silver wood. He sat confidently at the head of the table and gestured for the others to join him.

As they took their seats, Tet looked directly at Artemis and spoke seriously.

"Artemis, I want you in on what we're going to discuss here," he said, his tone steady. "But I need to know that you're capable of being impartial."

Artemis tilted her head slightly, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Tet's voice was calm but carried undeniable weight.

"I need you to be the patron goddess of hunters," he said. "It's fine for you to remain the goddess of maidens—that's part of who you are. But it's not all you are. That world over there," he gestured to the unfamiliar globe, "is protected by hunters. And those hunters desperately need a patron. They face monsters daily—and that fight is far from fair. There are more monsters than there are hunters. Far more."

He leaned forward, folding his fingers together.

"I want you to be their patroness. But that means giving your blessing and guidance to both men and women. You can't just favor one and leave the other hanging. Do you understand?"

Artemis looked him straight in the eyes. Her posture remained composed, but there was a seriousness behind her expression that couldn't be denied.

"I understand," she said, her voice steady and resolute. "Lord, if you'll give me this opportunity… I will not fail. I swear—I am capable of being impartial."

Tet nodded, satisfied. "Okay," he said simply. "I believe you."

Then his gaze shifted. "And you? Apollo? Hermes? Will the two of you join this project?"

Apollo leaned back in his chair with a casual grin and said, "Here comes the sun god of not one but two worlds."

He paused, considering.

"Would that even work for me, though?" he added. "I mean… am I gonna have to drive two sun chariots? That sounds like double the headache."

Tet smirked. "No. That part's automated on the other Earth. You won't have to worry about it."

Apollo's eyes lit up. "Sweet! Then that's the end of my concerns."

He leaned forward with a mischievous sparkle in his golden eyes. "Oh—but we will be able to go over there, right?"

Tet nodded. "Yes. You'll be able to travel freely between the two worlds."

Hermes leaned forward with his elbows on the table, clearly interested. "I'm definitely in," he said quickly, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "More power means more speed. More speed means maybe—just maybe—I'll finally get to take a damn break. Or better yet... a vacation."

The rest of his family exchanged glances. Hestia gave a soft, knowing smile and said gently, "I hope so too, Hermes."

Apollo chuckled and added, "So, Tet—how do we do this? Swear an oath? Bleed on a contract? Sacrifice a sacred goat?"

Tet waved his hand and smiled wryly. "Nothing that dramatic."

Tet said, "I just need two things from all of you."

He held up two fingers as he spoke.

"The first… nobody tells Zeus."

They all very quickly said, in perfect unison, "Done."

Tet blinked. "That was... fast."

Apollo laughed, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "You think we want the old man knowing we're getting stronger? He'd immediately take that as a sign of rebellion and lash out."

He shrugged dramatically. "And even if this does make us stronger than him, he'd probably twist it around, turn the rest of the Council against us, and convince them to attack."

Artemis nodded seriously. "Yes. Our father's paranoia knows no bounds. Unfortunately, even if we don't intend rebellion… he'll see it as rebellion."

Hermes snorted and added dryly, "Yep. The old man's got a lot of screws loose."

Hestia sighed, her tone soft and weary. "I wish it wasn't true… but it is."

She looked over at Tet. "Anyway, what's the second condition?"

Tet replied, "You all need to continue playing your parts. Keep going along with the Three Fates' design—for now."

His tone grew more serious.

"As I explained to Apollo and Hermes earlier, at the moment, I cannot remove the Fates or stop any of their designs. As bad as their system is… they don't do what they do maliciously. They're guiding the world the only way they know how, keeping it from spiraling into total destruction."

He glanced at each of them with a faint hint of tiredness in his eyes.

"They're doing the best they can with what they have. Until I can make a system that truly supports free will, I have to leave them in charge."

Tet paused and sighed.

"And I know that some of you—if not all of you—are already aware of some of the horrible things that are going to happen in the next few years. I ask you to bear with it."

He gave a small, pained smile.

"I will fix it. Just give me time. I feel like I'm saying that a lot lately."

Apollo leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand with a lazy grin. "'Cause you are. Chill, boss."

He waved a hand casually. "Take a deep breath. You're doing fine. And yeah, he's right—we've gotta play our parts."

He blinked, then frowned.

"Wait a minute… does that mean I still have to be Lester in a few years?"

Tet tilted his head and smiled slyly. "I don't know. Maybe. I might have done away with Zeus by then."

He looked at the others. "And for those of you who actually care—relax. Not sure I'll kill him. Maybe just... permanently put him in a retirement home."

Hestia visibly relaxed, letting out a quiet breath of relief. "I hear the Egyptians have a lovely retirement home for gods," she said with a faint smile. "Maybe Zeus can spend his days hanging out with Ra."

Tet's eyes widened with realization. "I completely forgot about the Egyptians. They're about to start having their own apocalypse soon."

Everyone at the table groaned.

Apollo threw his head back with exaggerated disbelief. "Are you serious? They're about to have a world-ending event at the same time we're having a world-ending event? That's... really bad timing."

Tet winced. "I know, I know. There's a lot to do. I'm getting cards on the table as fast as I can."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I wish I was a god of destruction. At least then, my job would be so much simpler."

Apollo and Hermes both muttered, "Amen to that."

Hestia gave them a stern look and said firmly, "Boys—no destroying."

In unison, the three of them responded with exaggerated obedience: "Yes, Hestia."

Tet smiled, then stood.

"I think we've procrastinated enough," he said. "All right. You three—to the globe."

Apollo, Hermes, and Artemis stood and approached the Supernatural universe terminal.

"So how do I do this?" Apollo asked, casually cracking his knuckles as he examined the glowing orb.

Tet replied, "Just approach the globe, place your hand upon it, and feed your Divinity into it. The rest will happen naturally."

Apollo nodded, murmuring under his breath, "Okay… here goes nothing."

He stepped forward and laid his hand on the surface of the glowing world. The moment his palm made contact, he felt it.

The connection.

His eyes widened in awe.

He was now tied to not one, but two suns.

Then it began—his blessing poured outward in waves, spreading across the supernatural Earth. Billions of people were touched by his divine essence.

Doctors and nurses felt sudden, renewed confidence. Surgeons' hands grew steadier. Diagnosticians instantly saw through confusing symptoms. Nurses instinctively knew how best to assist their teams. Entire hospitals began operating like finely tuned machines.

Artists felt a burst of inspiration they hadn't experienced in years. Musicians found melodies that stirred their souls. Their music resonated deeper than ever before.

Boxers became more energized, their bodies sturdier. Archers' aim became razor-precise. Poets spoke with uncanny resonance. Actors delivered performances that moved people to tears and laughter with equal strength.

And above it all—the suns of both worlds burned brighter and hotter.

Then the feedback hit Apollo like a lightning bolt. His body straightened, his eyes gleamed gold, and a grin of amazement stretched across his face as he felt himself grow stronger, energized on a level he'd never known before.

Tet snapped his fingers, and a pair of sunglasses appeared on his face—and on the others—as Apollo began to glow brilliantly with the pure radiance of the Sun.

Apollo grinned wide and declared, "Yes! I feel amazing! I haven't just gone back to my peak—I've gone beyond it!"

The sunlight that pulsed off of him grew more intense, nearly blinding—until the glow finally calmed down and settled into a more bearable aura of gold and warmth. Apollo lowered his sunglasses slightly and gave a satisfied nod.

"Alright, this feels great. Someone else take a turn—I'm gonna sit and process my newfound power."

With a smug but contented smirk, he walked away from the terminal and dropped into a nearby chair like a satisfied rockstar after a killer show.

Tet raised a hand to shield his eyes from the residual glow and muttered, "Somebody remind me to strengthen the ozone layer of both worlds... immediately."

Hestia, ever prepared, pulled a notepad out from… well, who knew where—and very seriously said, "I'll add it to your to-do list."

Tet blinked at her. "Thank you, Hestia. But… when did you become my secretary?"

Hestia replied in a perfectly calm tone, "The same time I became your babysitter."

Tet stared at her in disbelief. "Wait… you were serious about that? I thought it was a joke."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Okay… somebody else touch the globe."

Artemis stepped forward without hesitation. Her expression was focused, eyes glowing faintly with anticipation. She walked up to the supernatural universe terminal and, just like Apollo before her, fed her Divinity into the globe.

In an instant, her essence flowed out like moonlight spilling across the land—and just as Apollo was now connected to two suns, Artemis became bound to two moons.

Then, in a shimmering burst of silvery energy, her blessing began to ripple across the Earth.

Children were the first to feel it.

They no longer feared the dark. In fact, under the gentle light of the moon, they felt safe—protected. As if something unseen, but powerful, had declared to all that would do them harm: "These children are off limits."

All across the world, hunters locked in battle with monstrous foes suddenly felt something awaken deep within them. Their confidence surged. Their eyes sharpened. Their movements grew faster, deadlier. They struck true—instinctively knowing where to land each blow for maximum damage.

Under the moonlight, their strength, stamina, and reflexes increased tenfold. The night no longer belonged to the monsters.

The cover of darkness was no longer their ally.

In fact, for the first time, the monsters themselves began to hesitate. Their snarls weakened. Their bravado cracked. They no longer saw the hunters as mere prey… no—now, they were the hunted.

And Artemis—she felt the feedback hit her like a silver comet.

Her eyes widened.

Just like Apollo, she returned to her peak and even beyond it. Her body shimmered with power, and her divine senses spread wide across the new world.

And more than anything… she saw what Tet had spoken of.

That world… it was crawling with monsters.

It was far from a fair fight. The odds were stacked against the hunters in every conceivable way. And yet—rather than grow angry or disheartened, Artemis's heart beat faster with something else.

Excitement.

Pure, unfiltered joy.

Not only did she now have thousands of new followers—hunters who would carry her banner and fight in her name—but she had just inherited an entire world of prey she had never hunted before.

Some of the creatures she glimpsed were from Pantheon-guarded islands she was forbidden to step foot on… so she'd never known the thrill of hunting them.

That would soon change.

She stepped back from the globe, a quiet, radiant power surrounding her. An ethereal silver glow clung to her skin like moonlight caught in silk.

She gave Tet a respectful bow and said, "Thank you for this gift, Lord."

Her voice carried pride, gratitude, and the unmistakable thrill of purpose.

Then, serene and regal, she took a seat next to Apollo.

Hermes approached the globe and placed his hand upon it, feeding in his Divinity. Then, across the other Earth, Hermes' blessing began to spread.

At first, it affected travelers. Those who had lost their way suddenly remembered their paths. Their vehicles, which had been prone to failure, ran smoother and more reliably. People traveling on foot, wearied by the journey, suddenly felt as if they could walk or run for much longer—without exhaustion dragging at their heels.

But more than anything... they felt safer. As if someone unseen, someone clever and fast, was watching over them. Someone making sure they would reach their destinations, no matter the odds.

Couriers and delivery workers felt it next—zipping across cities and highways with perfect timing, dodging accidents, never missing a beat.

Then it was the pro athletes. Their footwork sharpened, their balance improved, their reactions became lightning quick.

And finally... the thieves.

Across the world, those who lived their lives in the shadows—pickpockets, cat burglars, and hackers—felt their instincts hone. Their steps grew lighter, their hands swifter. They moved through the world as if the air itself had become an ally.

Hermes received the feedback just like Apollo and Artemis had. And just like his siblings, he felt it.

Stronger. At his peak… and beyond it.

And more than anything else—he could move faster than ever before.

A confident grin slowly spread across Hermes' face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Guys..." he said, stretching out his limbs like he was warming up. "Watch this."

He vanished in a blur.

When he stopped, he was in four different spots at once—and these weren't just speed afterimages or echoes.

They were all him.

Apollo blinked, then raised both eyebrows, impressed. "How?!"

One of the Hermeses gave a cheeky shrug and said, "You remember The Flash, right? I know I'm kind of ripping off a comic book here, but I got so fast, I can now make speed replicants."

Apollo tilted his head, his tone half-joking but half-concerned. "Don't you gotta mess with time to do that? You sure that's a good idea? You're treading into Gramps' domain."

Tet—watching with a playful but thoughtful look—waved off the concern. "Nah, he's fine. I masked him from Kronos' detection. Hermes can travel through time as much as he wants—as long as he doesn't mess with the timeline itself."

Then, in unison, all four Hermeses pointed a finger at Tet and said, "No. I've seen way too many movies to know that's a bad idea. I'm just gonna be using this to finally relax for a bit."

Apollo nodded, smiling in approval. "Okay then, Herm Just don't get so fast you disappear from existence."

Tet and Hestia took their seats at the ornate table, settling in with quiet grace. Tet glanced around at the others and asked, "Everybody satisfied?"

The three gods—Apollo, Artemis, and Hermes—nodded, each visibly more radiant than before, their Divinity humming with new power.

"Good," Tet said with a pleased grin. "Any questions?"

Apollo raised his hand like a schoolboy, practically bouncing in his seat. "Any chance I can get any more keys? My kids love Killer Frequency. It's really helping their teamwork and coordination."

Artemis looked intrigued, arching a silver brow. "What keys?"

Apollo turned toward her, eyes gleaming. "Tet gives us access to games from other worlds. You enter them with these golden keys—sorta like dreamwalking, only better. Fully immersive, full-body experience. I've never seen the kids so focused. They're picking up tactics, communication, and instinct—it's awesome."

Artemis folded her arms thoughtfully. "I would like to request one for my Huntresses, if possible. It sounds... effective."

Tet gave a mischievous smile, one brow raised playfully. "I'll give you one similar to the one I gave Apollo—to test the waters. If your Huntresses can beat it, I'll let them keep it and give you another key that's absolutely perfect for them."

Artemis nodded firmly, her eyes shining with resolve.

"I'll drop by your camp tomorrow night," Tet continued, tapping the side of his temple. "And as for you, Apollo… you know my rules. You want another key?" He leaned forward, grin widening. "You play another game."

Apollo lit up like the sun he ruled. "Oh! I know! That's exactly what I was hoping for! The first time was so fun."

Then Tet's tone shifted slightly—lighter, yet serious underneath. "On a more important note... Hermes, tomorrow—you know what's happening."

Hermes' carefree expression faded. He gave a solemn nod, adjusting the brim of his cap. "I'm prepared," he said simply, voice steady.

Tet then turned to Artemis. "Artemis—three days from now, I need you to pop over to the other Earth."

Artemis perked up slightly, listening attentively.

"First," Tet continued, "I want you to introduce yourself to Bobby Singer. He coordinates most of the hunters in North America. Focus on the U.S. for now—that's where most of the action's happening."

"Understood," Artemis replied with a curt nod.

"Second thing I need you to do..." Tet leaned back, his tone cold now, his smile gone. "All the gods over there? Kill them all."

Artemis, Apollo, Hermes, and Hestia looked slightly alarmed by the blunt command.

Artemis narrowed her eyes. "Kill them all? Are you sure?"

Tet explained calmly, though his eyes sharpened. "The gods over there aren't gods, Artemis. They're powerful monsters—ancient, yes, but nothing more than parasites. They've survived through the ages feeding off human sacrifice. There's nothing divine about them. No true Divinity. Just power... and greed."

At that, Artemis' expression hardened. Her eyes gleamed with cold resolve, the Huntress in her rising to the surface. "It will be done, Lord," she said, bowing her head. "Leave it to me."

Tet nodded, then slid a sleek, modern cell phone across the table toward her. "There are two numbers in that cell. One is mine. The other—my Horseman, Strife. If you need assistance, he's on standby—and knowing him, he's probably bored out of his mind. If you've got a task for him, feel free to assign it. He's already aware that you may call him."

Artemis picked up the phone, studied it briefly, then tucked it away into her silver belt. "Understood," she replied, her voice firm and ready.

Tet leaned back with a stretch and exhaled. "Dismissed."

Everyone stood and casually dispersed, each god returning to their own duties, minds already on what came next.

Tet sighed as he slumped comfortably in his chair, a satisfied little smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Well," he said aloud to himself, "that went a lot better than expected."

Then, with a boyish glint in his eyes, he pulled a shining golden key from his coat pocket. Engraved on it was a delicate butterfly, its wings curled in stylized elegance.

"I can't wait for tomorrow night," Tet said to no one in particular, his grin widening as he twirled the key between his fingers. "I'm going to love watching the Huntresses play this."