DC/Sandman : Discord

The war among the gods was reaching its inevitable conclusion, and while the Olympians secured their victory over the Titans, Discord found his interest waning. The game was almost over, and the pieces had moved as he expected. It was time to stir another pot.

With a whimsical thought, he vanished from his throne in Discordia and reappeared in a realm of torment and ruin—the underbelly of creation, the infernal abyss that mortals feared: Hell.

The air was thick with the stench of brimstone, the ground a cracked and smoldering wasteland. Towers of bone and iron pierced the blood-red sky, and the cacophony of wailing souls echoed through the endless pits. Discord breathed in deeply, savoring the chaos, the pain, the eternal struggle.

"Oh, now this," he mused, "this is delightfully wretched."

He wandered leisurely, his golden eyes scanning the writhing masses of lesser demons who prowled the ruined corridors of Hell. They were malformed things—some a fusion of sinew and insect, others all fangs and shifting shadows. It wasn't long before a pack of them took notice of him, drawn by the unfamiliar presence in their domain.

"You dare walk these lands unbidden, outsider?" one snarled, a beast of spiked chitin and dripping fangs.

Discord smirked, rolling his shoulders lazily. "Oh, I dare quite a lot. I was hoping for a warm welcome."

The demons circled him, hunger and malice burning in their soulless eyes. One lunged—a great, hulking brute of molten rock and tar—but before it could strike, Discord raised a single finger. With a flick, the creature was unraveled, reduced to dust that scattered in the infernal winds.

The others hesitated, but pride and bloodlust drove them forward. The air cracked with their snarls, the ground trembled as they leapt at him in unison.

Discord yawned.

With a casual wave of his hand, reality around them twisted. The demons found themselves suspended mid-air, their forms contorted grotesquely as unseen forces stretched and pulled them apart. They shrieked, their bodies unraveling into tendrils of raw entropy, their very existence undone.

The last of them gurgled as it tried to escape, its body half-submerged into a writhing void of Discord's making. "W-wait…!"

"Wait?" Discord tilted his head, amused. "I hate waiting."

He snapped his fingers, and the creature imploded into a fine mist.

Silence followed. The landscape of Hell, so often a boiling pit of unrest, was now eerily still.

Then, slow applause.

Discord turned, grinning as he laid eyes on the source. A tall, impeccably dressed figure emerged from the shadows, his presence commanding without effort. Crimson eyes met gold, and for the first time, the two forces of discord and defiance regarded each other.

Lucifer Morningstar smirked. "Now, that was quite the spectacle. I must say, I do love a bit of theatrics."

Discord chuckled. "And you must be the ever-charming Lord of Hell himself. Took you long enough."

Lucifer stepped forward, hands in his pockets, an amused gleam in his eyes. "I do appreciate a good entrance. And you… you are not of this realm."

"No," Discord admitted, stretching his arms. "But I do find it entertaining."

Lucifer's smirk widened. "Oh, I think you and I are going to get along splendidly."

With the Titans defeated and Olympus secured, the newly crowned gods wasted no time in celebrating their victory. The air above Mount Olympus was thick with the scent of ambrosia and the echoing laughter of divine voices. Music and revelry filled the halls, golden goblets overflowed with nectar, and the Olympians reveled in their newfound supremacy.

And, naturally, Discord was among them.

He arrived without fanfare, slipping into the festivities as if he had always belonged. The gods barely questioned his presence—why would they? Chaos had been present in their war, even if they had not recognized its hand.

He moved through the halls with effortless charm, plucking a goblet from a passing servant and sipping lazily. He whispered into the ears of gods and goddesses alike, his words laced with hidden meanings and subtle provocations. A word here, a suggestion there—just enough to plant seeds of discord in the fertile ground of divine egos.

Here's a scene where Discord visits Tartarus to converse with the defeated Titans, keeping his personality in mind:

The air in Tartarus was thick with despair, heavier than the molten chains that bound the Titans. The void stretched endlessly, filled with the echoes of their rage and humiliation. Discord strolled through the desolation as if he were wandering a grand hall at a masquerade ball, his golden eyes gleaming with mirthful amusement.

A deep, rumbling voice, sharp with disdain, broke the silence.

"Why have you come here, Endless? To gloat?"

Discord grinned, giving an exaggerated bow. "Gloat? Moi? Perish the thought, dear Kronos. I simply came to offer some much-needed perspective. After all, I do so hate to see people wallowing in their own failures without at least understanding why they failed."

The massive figure of Kronos, still bound in divine chains, scowled. The other Titans stirred, their burning eyes fixed on the embodiment of discord himself.

"We were betrayed. By our own kin. The so-called Olympians turned against us. That is why we lost."

Discord clicked his tongue, wagging a finger. "Ah, see, that right there is the kind of thinking that lands you in places like this. It wasn't betrayal that doomed you, dear Oceanus—it was stagnation."

Hyperion, ever the fiery one, sneered.

"You speak in riddles, trickster. We were the rulers of the cosmos! We held dominion since time immemorial!"

Discord smirked, conjuring a golden apple in his hand, tossing it lightly. "Yes, and therein lies the problem. You held. You clung. You ruled, but you did not change."

He took a bite from the apple, speaking between chews. "Power isn't about who's the biggest, the oldest, the strongest. It's about motion—about adapting. The Olympians were hungry, inventive. You?" He waved his hand dismissively. "You sat on your thrones like statues, convinced of your eternal supremacy. Predictable. Boring."

The chains rattled as Kronos strained against them, his voice a low growl.

"And you? What did you gain from our fall? What part did you play in this, Discord?"

Discord chuckled, stepping closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, Kronos, my dear imprisoned friend, you wound me. I played no part—I simply watched… nudged… whispered here and there." He shrugged. "Is it my fault that a well-placed seed of doubt blooms into a forest fire?"

Kronos's molten eyes burned into him. "And yet, here you are, in Tartarus. Do you truly think yourself untouchable?"

Discord laughed, spreading his arms theatrically. "Untouchable? No, no, no! I invite chaos! It's what keeps things fun. But you?" He leaned in, golden eyes flashing. "You, dear Titans, are relics. You refused to change, so the universe changed without you."

The Titans fumed, but they had no rebuttal.

Discord grinned, turning away, his form already beginning to blur into the abyss.

"Enjoy your stay, my dear fallen gods. I'd say I'll miss you, but…" He smirked over his shoulder. "…we both know that's not true."

He was gone with a snap of his fingers, leaving only laughter echoing through the darkness.

A cold hush settled over the void as Discord reappeared in the liminal space between realms. The air here was neither warm nor cold, neither light nor dark—just empty. A place that only a select few could traverse freely.

And waiting for him, as always, was Death.

She stood still, cloaked in the weight of existence itself. No grand theatrics, no needless adornments—just an eternal presence that neither beckoned nor repelled. Her eyes, hollow yet infinite, settled upon Discord with a quiet knowing.

"You've been meddling again."

Discord smirked, adjusting the cuffs of his robe with exaggerated flair. "Meddling? Moi? Perish the thought, dear Reaper."

Death's expression remained unreadable. "Tartarus was not your concern. You stir the pot, but you do not bear the consequences."

Discord waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please. The Titans sealed their own fate long before I ever whispered in an ear. I just—reminded—them why they lost." He tilted his head. "Besides, I do believe you and I both appreciate the inevitability of change, don't we?"

Death regarded him for a long moment before speaking.

"Change is necessary. But it does not always come peacefully. You know this better than most."

Discord chuckled, stepping forward as if inspecting her. "Yes, yes, the whole 'suffering breeds transformation' bit. Very poetic. But tell me…" He leaned in, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously. "Do you ever tire of it? Watching? Waiting? Collecting all things in the end?"

Death did not flinch. "I do not tire. I simply am."

Discord sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "So dreadfully predictable." He spun away, twirling a conjured coin between his fingers. "You should try a little spontaneity sometime. Maybe take a vacation. I hear there's a delightful little corner of the cosmos where entropy plays dice with the void."

Death remained unmoved. "You joke because you fear what you cannot touch."

Discord froze for the briefest of moments—so brief that only someone like Death would notice. Then he grinned, twirling on his heel.

"Oh, darling—I do so love our little chats."

Death inclined her head ever so slightly. "So do I."

And with that, Discord snapped his fingers and vanished, leaving only silence in his wake.

Death watched the empty space where he had been. A whisper of something—perhaps amusement, perhaps nothing—lingered in her gaze.

Then, as always, she turned away and continued her work.

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Back-to-back tests have had me busy. I plan too update some of my older fanfics.