Brunhilde's Gamble

The air within Valhalla was tense and restless. The tall halls of the grand palace, usually filled with the sound of jubilant warriors preparing for the battles of Ragnarok, now echoed with whispers of uncertainty. Brunhilde stood by the immense stone table at the center of the Valkyries' council room, her fingers tracing idle patterns over the carvings of the world's fate as she stared at her sisters gathered before her.

The table, though cold and indifferent, bore the burden of humanity's destiny. Brunhilde's green eyes flashed with a determined gleam as she glanced at each of her sisters—Valkyries who had always been ready to carry out the duties of fate, those who fought without question or hesitation. But today, they weren't preparing for war. Today, they discussed ways to change the course of fate.

"Sisters," Brunhilde began, her voice steady, "we have all seen the decision that the gods are leaning toward. They have lost their faith in humanity. Zeus himself leads the chorus demanding their eradication. However..." She paused, searching their faces for a glimmer of hope, "...we cannot allow Ragnarok to happen without trying everything we can to prevent it."

Göll, the youngest among them, clenched her fists. Her eyes reflected worry and innocence. "But, Sister Brunhilde... what can we do? The gods see only humanity's flaws. The greed, the hatred, the violence... it overshadows everything else in their eyes."

Brunhilde smiled faintly at Göll, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's where we come in, dear sister. It is our duty as Valkyries not only to guide the chosen warriors into battle but also to be the voice of hope for humanity. We must remind the gods that mortals are capable of more than just destruction."

Another Valkyrie, Reginleif, nodded thoughtfully. "But how? Zeus has already made up his mind. To change the decree of the Council of Gods is no small matter."

Brunhilde's eyes narrowed, her smile growing more confident. "We need to show them what makes humanity exceptional. We need to show them something that transcends war and greed, something that could ignite even the coldest divine heart." She paused, her gaze flickering with something uncharacteristically mischievous. "I have just the plan for that."

A few days later, the grand arena of the gods—the Chamber of the Divine Council—was filled with an array of gods from every mythology. Massive pillars surrounded the circular chamber, etched with symbols of the old and new worlds. Gods of different pantheons, from Greek to Norse to Hindu, watched with interest and contempt as Zeus, seated atop a high throne, stood to address the assembly.

"Brothers and sisters!" Zeus's voice boomed, echoing through the chamber. His imposing figure, crowned by his flowing white hair and beard, seemed larger than ever. "For millennia, we have watched over humanity, guiding them, giving them countless chances. Yet, all we receive in return is disappointment. Their wars, their disregard for the gifts we've given them, have brought nothing but shame upon us! It is time we end this farce. Humanity must be eliminated, and Ragnarok shall commence!"

The hall erupted into murmurs of agreement. Shiva, his four arms crossed, nodded, and Ares leaned forward with a grin, eager for the chaos that would follow. Even Odin, with his all-seeing eye, gave a solemn nod.

Just as Zeus was about to continue, a voice cut through the din. "Hold on!"

The assembly turned as Brunhilde strode forward, her armor clinking with each determined step. Göll trailed behind her, trying to keep up, her face pale with nerves.

Zeus's eyes narrowed, lightning crackling around him. "Brunhilde, what is the meaning of this interruption?"

Brunhilde stood tall, her voice unwavering. "I am here to appeal to the gods on behalf of humanity. Before you pass this sentence, I ask that you give me the chance to prove that humanity is still worthy of existence."

Zeus laughed, a sound that rumbled like distant thunder. "Prove it? What could you possibly show us that would change our minds?"

Brunhilde took a deep breath, her gaze steady. "I will show you the very thing that humanity has created—something that has inspired hope, bravery, and camaraderie among millions. A testament to their boundless imagination and their ability to dream beyond the limitations of their reality."

The gods looked puzzled. Odin arched an eyebrow. "And what is this supposed miracle?" he asked, his voice cold and skeptical.

Brunhilde stepped forward, setting a small metallic object—a projector—onto the ground at the center of the chamber. She gestured for her sisters to stand back, her expression serious.

"If this demonstration fails," she said, her voice resonating with determination, "then I will not stand in the way of the decree. Ragnarok shall commence as planned. But if it succeeds, then I ask that humanity be given a chance—a chance to prove themselves through other means."

Zeus scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Very well. Show us, Brunhilde. But know this—our patience is thin."

Brunhilde nodded, activating the projector. The device began to hum, and a large screen of light appeared in the air above it, flickering for a moment before stabilizing. Names and titles appeared, each one shining brightly: Naruto, Bleach, One Piece, Dragon Ball, Jujutsu Kaisen, Hunter x Hunter, Fate series, and many more.

The gods murmured, confused by the strange symbols and names. Brunhilde raised her voice, addressing them all.

"These," she said, "are the stories that humanity has created. Tales of perseverance, growth, and unyielding will. They are called 'anime,' and they are filled with characters who embody the very ideals that the gods claim humanity lacks. Before you condemn them, I ask that you watch these stories and learn of their meaning."

Apollo, curious, leaned forward. "Anime, you say? Stories... What could stories possibly show us?"

Brunhilde's eyes blazed. "These stories are more than mere entertainment. They are reflections of human struggle, their hopes and fears, their resilience and love. They tell of underdogs overcoming insurmountable odds, of bonds forged in the fires of adversity, and of battles fought not for conquest, but for the sake of others."

Ares snorted, his eyes narrowed. "Sounds like childish fantasy to me."

Brunhilde met his gaze without flinching. "Perhaps. But I believe even the gods will find something worth admiring within these tales. Stories such as Dragon Ball, where a warrior surpasses his limits again and again, not for power, but to protect his loved ones. Or One Piece, a tale of dreams, freedom, and the unwavering pursuit of one's ideals. These are not just fantasies—they are humanity's soul."

Shiva chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement. "You think a bunch of colorful pictures and exaggerated fights will change our minds?"

Brunhilde's lips curled into a smile, almost challenging. "I ask that you watch. Watch, and understand why humans are worth saving. If you still wish for their end afterward, I will not argue."

Zeus exchanged glances with the other gods, his expression a mixture of irritation and curiosity. He waved his hand dismissively. "Very well, Valkyrie. We shall entertain your request. Begin your demonstration."

Brunhilde bowed, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—humanity's last hope. She turned to Göll, who gave her a nervous nod, then activated the projector. The screen shifted, and the first story began to play: Naruto, the tale of a young boy, shunned and alone, who dreamed of becoming a leader and earning the respect of his village.

As the opening scenes unfolded, the gods watched with a mixture of skepticism and mild curiosity. Naruto's childhood—his isolation, his determination to be acknowledged—began to play out, and Brunhilde kept her eyes on the gods, studying their reactions.

Hermes leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he watched. "A boy shunned by his own people, yet he still smiles. He seeks their approval even after all their hatred."

Poseidon scoffed. "Pathetic. Why not simply abandon them?"

Athena, however, was intrigued. "Perhaps... that is what makes him remarkable. To bear the scorn of others yet still fight for them—it is not an easy path."

Brunhilde allowed herself a small smile. The seed of doubt had been planted. The gods continued to watch, and the story unfolded further—Naruto's bonds with his friends, his unyielding spirit in the face of impossible odds, and his refusal to give up on those he cared about, even when it seemed hopeless.

By the time the scenes shifted to Naruto's battle against Pain—a fight not just of strength, but of ideals, where Naruto sought to break the cycle of hatred—the gods had fallen into a contemplative silence.

Zeus stroked his beard, his expression unreadable. "This boy... he speaks of ending hatred. A naive goal, surely."

Brunhilde nodded. "Naive, perhaps. But that is what makes humanity remarkable, Zeus. They dream of things that seem impossible, and they strive for them regardless. They falter, they fail, but they continue to rise. Isn't that worth something?"

Zeus was silent, his gaze fixed on the screen as Naruto, battered and exhausted, extended his hand to a defeated enemy, offering peace instead of vengeance.

The next anime began: One Piece, the tale of Monkey D. Luffy and his crew of misfits, each with their own dreams and burdens, setting sail to find freedom and adventure. The gods watched as Luffy stood up against tyranny, against those who oppressed others for power.

"Freedom," Odin murmured, his one eye narrowing. "A concept even we gods struggle to define. Yet this boy... he embodies it without hesitation."

The stories continued: Dragon Ball, with Goku's boundless drive to protect his friends and surpass his limits; Bleach, where Ichigo fought to protect both the living and the spirits of the dead; Hunter x Hunter, with Gon's relentless pursuit of his father and his own identity.

Even Ares, who had initially scoffed, found himself leaning forward, fascinated by the depiction of battles fought not for glory, but for love, for friends, for ideals. Battles where strength was measured not by might alone, but by the heart.

Hours passed, and the gods watched in captivated silence as story after story played. Each one a testament to the resilience, the flaws, and the beauty of humanity. Brunhilde stood by, her heart swelling with hope as she saw the impact these tales were having.

Finally, as the projector powered down, leaving the chamber in a profound stillness, Brunhilde stepped forward.

"You have seen what humanity is capable of," she said, her voice ringing through the chamber. "Not just their darkness, but their light. Their ability to hope, to dream, to fight for each other even when it seems impossible. I ask you—are they truly beyond saving?"

The silence stretched on. Zeus sat back, his expression contemplative. The gods exchanged glances, the earlier contempt and certainty now replaced with uncertainty and thought.

After what felt like an eternity, Zeus finally spoke, his voice softer, less certain. "You have given us much to think about, Brunhilde. Humanity... perhaps they are not as lost as we believed."

A murmur ran through the chamber—some of agreement, others of reluctance. But the atmosphere had changed.

Brunhilde bowed deeply. "That is all I ask, great gods. Give them a chance. Let them prove that they can rise above their flaws."

Zeus regarded her for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Very well. We shall delay the decision. Humanity shall be given time... to show us if they are indeed worthy."

A sigh of relief escaped Göll, and Brunhilde smiled, her heart swelling with hope.

This was not the end. It was merely the beginning. And for the sake of humanity, she would fight until her last breath.

The gods sat in quiet contemplation, the final scenes of the animes still fresh in their minds. Each deity was steeped in a sense of both awe and irritation—admiration for the indomitable spirits they had witnessed, yet frustration at the realization that these characters, who had ignited their respect, were mere fiction. Zeus clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms tightening.

"These humans… they have crafted such beings—warriors, dreamers, protectors—that even we gods would be honored to face," Zeus muttered, his eyes gleaming with a mix of grudging respect and anticipation. He turned to the rest of the gods, his booming voice laced with excitement. "To have faced Goku, Luffy, Naruto, and all the others, and to have tested our strength against them—such a battle would have been legendary!"

Ares grinned, fire igniting in his eyes. "Indeed. The resolve of these characters, their courage in the face of impossible odds… it's a shame they're mere fantasies. I wish to see if their strength could measure up to that of a god."

Thor's hammer rested heavily behind his throne as he nodded. "I had hoped to challenge these warriors myself. But they are not real, and there is no thrill in striking at shadows."

The gods exchanged glances, a hunger for battle growing amongst them—a desire to see if the mortals who crafted these tales had even a fraction of the power depicted in their stories. Brunhilde could sense the shift in the air, her heart dropping slightly.

Shiva leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "If mortals can create such tales of strength and valor, perhaps it means they harbor some of that greatness themselves. After all, these stories had to come from somewhere. The imagination reflects the spirit."

Zeus rose from his throne, his eyes alight with the thrill of impending conflict. "If humanity could dream up such incredible warriors, then surely, there must be among them those who can rise to the challenge. It is decided! We shall call for Ragnarok. We will give mortals one last chance to prove themselves—not through tales, but through their flesh and blood."

Brunhilde clenched her jaw, knowing she had bought humanity time but also a trial beyond anything they had ever faced. The gods had seen the spark of greatness in the anime, and now they demanded to see it in reality.

"Very well," Brunhilde said, her voice unwavering despite the fear in her heart. "If it is a battle you want, then humanity will answer. They have forged legends in their minds; now they shall forge them in truth."

The gods grinned, their respect for the fictional heroes now transforming into a desire to see if real mortals could stand as proudly. Ragnarok was called, not out of disdain, but out of the hope that somewhere among humanity were those who could stand against even the gods—just as the heroes of anime had done, even if only in imagination.

Let the Ragnarok begin.