Chapter 4: Coliseum Emparia

The eternal cycle of time, the Kalpa, has always been singing its divine hymn through the cosmos. With each unraveling kalpa, a universe was birthed, and nurtured, only to perish once more into the never-stopping wheel.

Time, an ever-flowing river, carries the remnants, and memories of countless such universes. It's Continuum stretching far beyond the mortal grasp.

The vast tapestry of Kalpa was divided into four epochs that wove their delicate patterns throughout its vast continuity.

These four epochs were: Satyuga, the age of truth. Treta Yuga, the era of righteousness. Dwapar Yuga, the era of great penance. And at last, Kalyuga, the era of shadows and light. 

In Satyuga, divine and demonic beings roamed realms apart, their boundaries sacred, their rules unchallenged.

Tretayuga dawned, blurring the lines that once divided gods and demons, their destinies converged upon a singular plane of existence, the Earth.

Dwaparyuga unfurled its banner of discord, melding the sacred and profane within the confines of the same house.

Yet, Kalyuga emerged as the harbinger of ultimate discord, where the divine and the diabolic, the saint and the sinner, converged within the same person.

When darkness cast its long shadow over humanity, the gods assumed myriad forms, descending from celestial heights to walk among mortals. Their luminous presence illuminated the shadows of human frailty.

At times, they shed their divine mantle, reincarnating into mortal flesh, their purpose twined with the fabric of karma, imparting invaluable teachings to guide humanity through the labyrinth of moksha.

However, everything changed when the demons unleashed war upon the gods. The skies darkened with the smoke of battle, and the earth trembled under the weight of their clash. Blood stained the land, a perpetual torrent that threatened to drown humanity itself.

Realizing the peril their celestial conflict posed, the gods made a heart-wrenching decision. They would ascend from the earthly realm, retreating to the higher planes to shield humanity from the relentless onslaught of demons and the overwhelming brilliance of their divine power.

Yet, even as they withdrew, the gods understood a grim truth. In the era of Kalyuga, where malevolence thrived, no mere human could withstand the demonic forces alone. It was an age where evil reigned supreme, casting a long, unyielding shadow over the fragile flickers of human hope.

At the end of Dwaparyuga, Lord Krishna made a powerful pact with the combined might of all the gods. This contract ensured that neither gods nor asuras could manifest on Earth. 

The gods agreed, but the Asuras felt tricked and opposed it. It wasn't until Lord Shiva stepped in that they grudgingly accepted, with Shiva promising that no god would ever return to the mortal realm.

This decision angered many gods. They felt it was a scheme to erase their presence from Earth and weaken their power, which depended on human worship. 

However, the discord was settled when Shiva, with a heavy heart, was the first to leave his sacred abode, Kailash, and ascend to the higher realms with his family. This act of sacrifice was deeply moving, as it showed his willingness to uphold the pact for the greater good. 

Seeing Shiva's solemn departure, the other gods felt a mix of sorrow and solidarity. They understood the significance of this moment and knew it was time to follow his lead.

One by one, the gods of various pantheons ascended to the higher realms, leaving behind the world they had long protected. 

As they left, their hearts ached with the knowledge that their direct influence on Earth was ending, but they held onto hope that their sacrifice would ultimately bring about a new balance. The heavens, now filled with their collective presence, shimmered with a silent promise to watch over humanity from afar.

Current Day

Amidst the tumult of demons' reincarnation on Earth, the divine council summoned an urgent meeting at the Coliseum Emparia.

This architectural marvel stood as a testament to the celestial artisans' unparalleled craftsmanship. Its grandeur transcended mortal comprehension, a symphony of richness and splendor born from the collective genius of gods across the cosmos. 

Towering golden pillars, adorned with intricate carvings that depicted the myths and legends of countless worlds, reached towards the heavens with an ethereal grace. Each pillar seemed to sing with the echoes of creation itself, resonating with the divine energy that traversed every inch of the colossal structure.

As one stepped into the Emparia's vast expanse, they were enveloped in a sensory feast unlike any other. The air hummed with the harmonious melodies of celestial choirs, their voices weaving a quilt of sound that lifted the soul to lofty heights. The walls, adorned with luminescent tapestries that shimmered with otherworldly light, whispered tales of gods and heroes, their vibrant hues breathing life into the very fabric of the cosmos.

Within the Emparia's sacred halls, every earthly pleasure found its embodiment. From the rich aroma of exotic incense that wafted through the air to the grand banquet tables that groaned under the weight of divine delicacies, every detail was meticulously crafted to indulge the senses. 

However, this gathering was no festival but a pensive assembly to address the demons' wrongdoing and administer justice to the one who defied divine law.

The Emparia buzzed with anticipation as gods arrived in a dazzling array of celestial rides: chariots pulled by ethereal steeds, wings of radiant light, mighty elephants, and majestic eagles. With each arrival, the hall pulsed with cosmic energy as the gods took their seats, their presence a testament to the gravity of the occasion.

One by one, the gods entered the great hall, their regal forms taking their designated seats amidst a chorus of murmured greetings and solemn nods. As they settled into their places, their eyes ablaze with righteous indignation, the weight of their collective purpose hung heavy in the air.

As the gates of Emparia parted, the Greek gods strode forth with regal grace, their divine forms radiating an aura of timeless power and wisdom. With Zeus leading the way, followed by Athena, Apollo, and the rest of the Olympian pantheon, their presence infused the grand hall with an air of majesty unmatched by mortal realms.

"Ah! First, they forbid us from doing something, and yet they do the same! Where's the justice in that, father!" exclaimed a tall and graceful lady, her voice ringing clear above the murmurs of the assembly. With an air of authority befitting her divine lineage, she voiced the discontent that simmered among the gods, her words carrying the weight of their collective frustration.

"Athena, that's enough. There must be an important reason for why he did it. I am sure of it. I won't repeat it, but do not be the cause of dispute between the gods here," Zeus admonished, his voice resonating with authority as he entered the hallowed halls of Emparia. With measured steps and a commanding presence, the king of the gods quelled the rising tension, his words a reminder of the importance of unity among divine kin.

An arrogant giggle rippled through the hall in response to Zeus's words, followed by a biting retort. "Is that the same Zeus that used to boast about his victories in wars? Brother, has the extravagance of the higher realm made you soft? Or is it the old age?" A tall, handsome man stepped forward, his piercing blue eyes locking with Zeus's gaze.

"You do not know the ways of the primordial gods!... Poseidon," Zeus replied with measured restraint, his words laced with a hint of warning. With a forced smile, he brushed past Poseidon, his gaze unwavering as he made his way toward the main hall, his demeanor a mask of calm resolve amidst the brewing tempest of divine discord.

"Or is it because you fear them? Now now we all know he and Vishnu are only powerful because of their weapons. If I had a trident like that, even I could surpass anyone!" Poseidon's voice reverberated through the hall, his arms outstretched in a gesture of defiance, his chest swollen with pride.

"You are now an even greater fool than I remembered you to be. Or is the voice of the trickster Loki playing with your mind, brother?" Zeus countered, his voice steady but tinged with concern. Despite his calm demeanor, there was a flicker of worry in his eyes as he addressed Poseidon's taunts.

"You may have forgotten, but I haven't! This is our chance, brother. This is when we can pin them down. After all, what he has done is nothing small!" Poseidon advanced toward Zeus, his bewilderment giving way to fervor as his voice grew louder with each word.

"Then let me make this clear to you," Zeus declared, pausing just before entering the grand halls. "I will, in no condition, declare war against the other gods. We need to act as one rather than getting divided in these dire times." With resolve etched into his every step, Zeus continued his walk toward his seat.

This time, Zeus was to be one of the three judges, tasked with ensuring that the council reached a resolution.

As Zeus ascended the stairs of the stage, his eyes fell upon a familiar figure already standing at the podium. With hair as dark as the night sky and a golden eye patch adorning his right eye, the man bore the unmistakable aura of wisdom and authority. "It's been a long time, Lord Odin," Zeus greeted, a sense of respect coloring his words as he acknowledged the presence of the Norse god.

"Oh, Lord Zeus! It's truly a delight to see you," Odin exclaimed, rising from his throne as Zeus approached. With a warm smile, they clasped hands in a gesture of mutual respect before settling down to confer, their ancient bond bridging the gap between their respective realms.

"Most of the young gods think that he should be punished for what he has done…" Odin spoke softly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of wisdom. Leaning sideways on his throne, he cradled his chin in his hands, his gaze fixed on Zeus with a hint of concern.

"And yet the old gods know the value of his sacrifice. I do agree that he has broken a law, but we should be grateful that he did, or else it would have been a massacre on the surface," Odin spoke up, his words measured and deliberate. With a dignified posture, he turned his gaze toward the side where the Greek gods were seated.

"I agree with you on that one, however, I have a bad feeling about this. The second son of mine is known to cause troubles wherever he goes," Odin sighed, a furrow forming between his brows.

"This question has been bugging me, but who will be the third judge?" Zeus asked, turning his gaze to Odin, curiosity etched into his features.

"Some younger gods didn't have faith in our judgment. So they have requested Lord Rama to attend as the third Judge," Odin replied, his gaze shifting to the young figure who was approaching the podium with an air of serene wisdom.

The tall, well-built figure ascended the stairs with a graceful stride, every movement exuding an aura of regal dignity. In his right hand, he carried a magistical bow, its craftsmanship a testament to divine artistry. His head was adorned with a one-of-a-kind crown, each jewel gleaming with celestial radiance. Upon his forehead rested the tilak of the Sun, a mark of his divine and noble lineage.

As he approached the seats, he gently placed his bow down on a table, the air around him seeming to hum with the latent power it contained. His presence commanded respect, a silent reminder of the unwavering strength and wisdom he possessed.

"Lord Zeus, Lord Odin," Ram said, joining his hands in a gesture of respect as he bowed slightly. "You are the elder gods of this universe; have my salutation," he said with a warm smile.

Zeus and Odin both rose from their seats, extending warm greetings to Ram.

"It's always good to see you, Lord Ram. Perhaps some young gods could learn a few manners from you," Odin remarked with a sigh, his gaze shifting pointedly towards Loki.

They settled back into their seats as the majority of the gods had finally assembled in the grand hall, the air heavy with anticipation for the council that was about to unfold.

"I am sure that today's judgment will be a chaotic one," Rama exclaimed, his voice heavy as he leaned back on his throne.

"When things involve him, it sure gets chaotic. We are here to make sure that things don't go out of hand, m'lords," Zeus stated with a stern gaze, his eyes shifting towards Hermes and Loki, engaged in discussion just below the podium. Their preparations for the impending debate hinted at the intensity of the accusations they were about to bring up against a certain individual.

"Oh, I forgot to ask, but Lord Ram... who will be the one defending the accused?" Odin inquired, his gaze fixed on Ram with a keen intensity, his fingers idly tracing through the strands of his long beard.

"It will be Lord Krishna," Ram replied, his voice carrying a weight of solemnity as he closed his eyes for a moment.

Zeus and Odin exchanged a glance, their hands instinctively gripping the armrests of their thrones in awe. The mention of Lord Krishna as the defender elicited a palpable sense of reverence, recognizing the divine wisdom and unmatched prowess that he brought.