He had heard the legends of "Om Messiah."
Across the Mutants' underground network, that name had spread like wildfire in recent months.
A new god many Mutants called the God of Mutants, one who could welcome the dead into a realm of eternal life.
But he had never seen him with his own eyes. He had thought it was just a religious delusion born of despair, a comfort desperate Mutants had invented for themselves.
Now, standing in this Divine Kingdom built from Faith Power, he felt the warmth and prayers carried in every trace of energy around him.
He realized he had been wrong. Terribly wrong.
Om Messiah was no myth. He was real.
"You have come."
A voice sounded from every direction at once. It was not deafening, yet it reached the depths of his soul, like the lingering resonance of a great bell echoing through an empty valley.
Erik jerked his head up. Golden light surged from Valhalla, and a majestic figure stepped through its doors.
To Erik, the figure seemed forged from pure golden light. His face was blurred by an endless halo, and he wore sacred robes rippling with star patterns. With every step, golden ripples spread through the sea of clouds beneath his feet.
"Om... Messiah."
Erik's voice still trembled in his soul form, filled with awe and surprise, and a thread of excitement he could not put into words.
Russell's gaze settled on the faint outline of the newly arrived soul. He could sense the strength of Erik's soul.
It was far stronger than an ordinary mortal's. A demon from Hell had branded him, but Russell's intervention had kept it from dragging him all the way to that final place after death.
He had potential. The marks of battle were etched deep into his