At the same time, in a interstitial space not far from the battlefield, the company of heroes encountered an unexpected 'obstacle'.
It was not an entity, but an intangible, incorporeal fluctuation of will.
Alaya Noah: "Help me..."
"Who?" Heracles instantly gripped his massive axe, his gaze sweeping the area vigilantly.
Odysseus, Theseus, and the others also immediately entered a combat-ready state.
Alaya: "You are also human... You should help me. To overthrow the gods, to rebuild the world."
A sharp light flashed in Odysseus's eyes. He was the first to calm himself and asked in a low, serious voice: "Alaya Noah? The collective consciousness of humanity? But you were with that world's 'Prometheus'... Wait, in the present world, humanity is nearly extinct. How can you still exist? Where is this energy coming from?"
This was the crucial question.
Alaya's power was based on the existence and mental activity of the collective 'human beings'.
With human civilisation in ruins and individuals perishing en masse, Alaya should be extremely weak, perhaps even dormant.
Alaya: "The concept has not vanished. You are also human. You also provide me with proof of existence."
Its will swept across the group for a moment, lingering especially on Hermes, as if sensing some 'peculiarity' within him, but it did not probe further.
Heracles, still raw from Jason's death, roared: "Don't drag us into your schemes! I don't believe a single word you say! Jason—did you manipulate him? Did you let him die?!"
Alaya: "It was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. In the new world that is about to be built, a world belonging entirely to humanity, you will meet him again. His sacrifice will become part of the foundation of the new world. His will shall live on in the blood and memory of the new humanity."
"Pah!" Theseus couldn't help himself. He pointed his long sword at the void and shouted angrily.
"Shut up! What righteousness, what greater good! Jason was our brother, a living man! What right do you have to decide his life and death, to let him die?! You cold monster, you dare speak of humanity?!"
The heroes were filled with anger and noise.
Without Alexander, the pillar of the group, it was difficult to unite their opinions.
Odysseus was unusually silent. His eyes were filled with complex struggles and calculations.
Finally, the struggle gradually gave way to an almost resigned rationality, and an imperceptible dimness flickered in his eyes.
"Enough!" Odysseus suddenly raised his voice, cutting through the argument.
He stared into the void, as if looking directly at the invisible will.
"What exactly do you want us to do? Just say it. Usurp the gods? Rebuild the world with such power? How? What needs to be done now?"
"Odysseus?!" Heracles and Theseus stared at him in astonishment, unable to understand why this comrade, always famed for his wisdom and calm, was suddenly acting as if he were about to compromise.
The other heroes also looked at him in shock.
Alaya's will seemed to waver slightly, as if pleased with Odysseus's 'cooperation'.
Alaya: "The 'Zeus' there is extremely unstable right now. He has gathered too many conflicting divinities within his body, forcibly absorbed primordial origin, and is on the verge of mental chaos. This is a unique opportunity. Use this chance, employ the ritual I have prepared, approach him, and merge your own essence of being into his consciousness, which is currently 'chaotic', to compete for dominance."
Its will transmitted a complex image of energy flow and ancient incantations, directly imprinting it into the minds of the heroes.
Alaya: "Within the One, on the verge of chaos, consciousness can be temporarily confused. If someone can successfully approach and dedicate themselves, supported by powerful human will and collective consciousness, to compete for dominance over his consciousness, we can... take everything from him. His power, his authority—they will become the cornerstone for rebuilding the world, power belonging to 'humanity'."
"This is... madness!" a hero muttered.
"Walk right up and merge with that madman? Go fight him inside his own head? How is that any different from walking to our deaths?"
Alaya: "The difference is that we have a plan and support, and he is already mad, his mind in complete disarray."
Odysseus took a deep breath. The dimness in his eyes was more pronounced, but his tone was eerily 'rational'.
"And we have no other choice, do we?" he said. "Look around. The world is crumbling. Either we take the risk, or we all die together. He could manipulate Jason, and he can influence us like this. Rather than passively waiting for death, it's better to take the initiative."
He looked around at everyone, his voice filled with helpless resolve. "Well, why are you all still stunned? Prepare for the ritual. Do as he says. We have no choice."
The heroes exchanged glances. Heracles looked at Odysseus's strangely altered eyes, clenched his fists, and finally, slowly, let them go.
"I'll go!"
Heracles stepped forward, his voice low and firm.
"If someone has to be this 'integrator', I'll do it. In terms of resilience, in terms of hatred for that bastard, no one here compares to me."
He remembered the charred remains of Jason, the oaths of the past, the battles fought side-by-side.
Alaya's will responded with approval and guidance.
The ritual, amidst despair and reluctance, quietly began its preparations.
Lines of energy ignited on the ground. Ancient incantations echoed in the air.
The heroes formed a circle, channelling their power and will into it. Heracles stood at the center of the ritual, awaiting the moment of the deadly merging.
---
At the same time, in the Underworld of Chaos, beside the dark cave connecting to the riverbed of the otherworldly Styx.
Kronos and Boros had not left.
They seemed to be waiting for something.
And indeed, soon, the gurgling waters of the other world's River Styx surged from the cave entrance.
Immediately after, a soul remnant—so faint it seemed it could dissipate at any moment—was 'hurriedly' carried by the current and floated into the void of the Chaos Underworld.
This soul was extremely dim, its form blurry, yet it still stubbornly burned with a thin layer of flame—it was Jason.
"It seems the flame arrived first." Boros looked with interest at the remnant soul, as if examining an amusing toy.
Beside him, Kronos didn't hide his contempt. He cast a shadow from his colossal form, enveloping the tiny soul. "Hmph, a soul remnant like this, about to fall apart? What use is it?"
Boros didn't answer directly. He extended a finger and gently tapped the remnant soul of Jason a few times, as if sensing its essence.
After a moment, he withdrew his hand. The inscrutable smile on his face deepened.
"I don't know," Boros admitted honestly.
"His own power is almost exhausted, his memory shattered, his will on the verge of collapse. But..." He paused, looking at the faint flame. "He has 'possibility'. He is a mortal hero, bearing the concept of 'hope' from Alaya, tainted by the soot of Hestia's 'Eternal Flame', and baptized by the power of 'death' and 'oath' in the otherworldly Styx."
Kronos was still frowning, clearly uninterested in this ethereal talk of 'possibility'.
"Let's perform a 'secret ritual' for him," Boros decided, his tone as casual as if he were choosing what to have for dinner.
"He plunged into the Styx and was burned by sacred fire. He needs to be awakened."
He looked at Kronos. "Grandfather, I need you to use your time divinity to build a 'cocoon of time' around him, so he can accelerate and stabilize. He needs time. He needs to 'awaken' within a dream, to remember who he is, and... who he could become."
Kronos snorted. Though displeased, he began to channel his divinity.
Dark golden ripples of time began to envelop Jason's remnant soul, forming a semi-transparent, cocoon-like structure.
Jason's remaining consciousness, in a strange sensation of mingled warmth and cold, sank completely into the deepest darkness, awaiting an unknown awakening.