The sky was dark and star-filled, with purple clouds drifting gently overhead. Tiny glowing dragonflies floated through the air, illuminating the scene.

  Heimdall was walking across an enormous stone bridge. Beneath it stretched an eternal sea reflecting the image of a crescent moon, shining brightly in the heavens.

  At the end of the massive bridge stood a stone gateway flanked by two gigantic sphinx statues. Two malakim guards stood watch, holding their spears.

  “I am Heimdall, and I have come to Lel to see the exalted Anat,” the Norse god said to the guards.

  The malakim—wearing golden conical helmets and golden wings—glared at the white-skinned Norse god with contempt.

  “Her Majesty Anat does not receive foreigners such as you,” one guard said, tightening his grip on the spear.

  “I have an urgent package for her. If you want to deliver it yourselves, that’s fine,” Heimdall replied.

  “Package? What package?” the other guard asked.

  Heimdall reached beneath his cloak and pulled out the severed head of Esus, tossing it at their feet.

  “If your lady ever tries something like this again in Asgard, it will be her head that ends up like this. Can you give her that message?” Heimdall said.

  “Is that… the anunnaki Esus?” one guard asked, trembling in fear.

  “Hey! We can’t let you go—you’ll pay for this!” the other shouted.

  But Heimdall activated the Bifrost and vanished from the entrance of Lel.

  Lel is the capital of the gods’ kingdom and the royal palace of Lord El. The planet on which it stands is literally an enormous phoenician alike castle, its entrance a colossal bridge. Anyone seeking an audience with an eloah—the rulers of the palace and gods under El’s command—must cross it.

  Since El, father of the gods, had long ceased making public appearances, his daughter Anat—considered the most powerful of the elohim—generally acted in his stead.

  Lel is eternally shrouded in night, as its massive satellites block the light, keeping the sky in perpetual darkness. From this comes its name: Lel, “Night in phoenician.”

  Despite being Lord El’s throne-world, Lel is vast—large enough to contain a hundred Milky Ways. It is regarded as the largest planet in any universe, galaxy, dimension, or reality.

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  One of the guards ran into the palace interior. The place was so immense that one had to move through its colossal corridors at speeds millions of times faster than light. Guards relied on portals or wormholes just to reach Anat’s audience chamber.

  “Lady Anat!” the guard finally shouted as he entered the room.

  There, seated on an elevated platform with three steps, was the goddess Anat.

  Her hair was medium-short and pink, as were her eyes, which were accented with violet makeup. Two bull-like horns emerged from her head. She wore a one-strap purple dress, golden sandals, and golden arm bracelets.

  Her throne was golden, with two lions carved into its armrests; its back and cushion were upholstered in purple.

  In the hall, enormous columns stretched so high the ceiling could not be seen. A layer of mist covered the white stone floor, and a purple carpet led to the throne.

  Behind it hung a massive curtain said to conceal the throne room of Lord El.

  Anat was drinking hot wine from a golden chalice, steam rising visibly from it.

  (Image created with Gemini AI for illustrative purposes only)

  “Why do you intrude in my hall, malak?” the goddess asked irritably.

  “Your Majesty Anat, a man from Asgard came and brought… this,” the guard said nervously, showing her Esus’s severed head with trembling hands.

  The decapitated god’s face was still frozen in terror.

  Anat sipped her wine, utterly unimpressed.

  “I didn’t think the Celtic gods were this pathetic,” she said, handing the chalice to an attendant.

  “So Asgard freed itself… and those two goddesses managed to reclaim their totemas; and now they’ve made alliances with Asgard and Athena?” Anat said, resting her head on her right hand in boredom.

  “I am surrounded by incompetents,” she added with disdain.

  At that moment, another guard entered and bowed.

  “Your Majesty Anat, the god Ares requests an audience with you again.”

  “Another useless fool… fine, tell him to come in. I have something I need to ask him,” she ordered.

  The guards bowed and left.

  Anat rose from her throne and looked at the severed head that had been placed on the floor. Her attendants moved in to pick it up, but she stopped them.

  She walked over calmly and stared down at it with contempt.

  “I did not expect Asgard’s strength to be this great… but I did overestimate those savages, thinking they would crumble without their patriarch,” she thought.

  Her eyes flashed violently, and the head disintegrated—vanishing as if reduced to atomic dust.

  “However, the power of that boy traveling with them… is not normal. We will have to find a way to eliminate him immediately,” she continued in thought.

  Anat returned to her throne and crossed her legs in a challenging pose, ordering everyone in the hall to leave her.

  “Well then… let’s see how useful that warmongering god of war can be for me. After all, I have a very good bait to shatter those girls,” she said with cold indifference.

  In one of Lel’s hundreds of courtyards, many people were crucified. Among them, clearly visible, was Anpiel—naked, hanging from a cross, nails driven through his hands and feet.