!LEAVE YOUR POWER STONES EVERY 200 THERE WILL BE AN EXTRA CHAPTER!
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Several years had passed since that day on the desolate plain, where Vidar, the Asgardian god, had come face to face with the being known by countless names, but who, from that moment on, would simply be God to him.
Since then, Vidar had remained by his side, walking through those ancient lands, witnessing acts of both kindness and cruelty from humanity, watching how the human soul wavered between light and darkness, and learning from that peaceful figure who never imposed, never demanded, but guided with gentle words and sincere gestures.
Vidar had changed.
He was no longer the same god who once raised his sword against enemies for a throne he never truly desired. No longer the warrior obsessed with balance, nor the man who dreamed of creating his own kingdom in some corner of the universe. He had renounced all of it. And with that renunciation, he left behind his old name.
Now, he was known as Jugram.
Jugram walked through villages and cities, observing misery and love with the same eyes, learning that real power did not lie in the strength of one's arm or in titles, but in the will not to give up, in the capacity to endure pain and keep standing.
He had come to understand that even he, with his divine blood and strength, was not all-powerful. That there would always be something greater. No matter how much he destroyed or created… there would always exist a higher will he could not fully comprehend.
But instead of rejecting that idea, he embraced it.
He abandoned his old Asgardian beliefs, the gods who demanded worship through strength. He left behind the prayers of conquest, the oaths of war, and opened his heart to something new. Something that came not from temples or altars, but from experience, from contact with the simple and the human.
It was a philosophy without a name, a faith based on actions, on empathy, on accepting that everyone —gods or mortals— carried internal battles. And that there was greater strength in understanding than in destroying.
Thus, Jugram was born.
A man who, though still wielding immense power, refused to proclaim himself as savior or emperor. Someone who preferred to listen rather than command, and who had learned to look upon the world without the arrogance of his immortal blood.
And in that stage of his life, as he accompanied God through places forgotten by time, Jugram wondered:
"Perhaps… I was sent here not to impose order, but to learn?"
The answer, he knew, only time would reveal.
Jugram walked in silence, following his master's steps along the dusty streets of that ancient land. The scent of freshly baked bread and spices floated in the air, mingling with the murmur of crowds and the clatter of water jars.
That afternoon, Jesus had asked him to accompany him. He said the time had come to introduce him to the twelve men who followed him. Humble men, with hands marked by labor, with hearts burdened by doubts and faith. They were fishermen, gatherers, men of the people.
And yet, upon seeing them, Jugram felt neither contempt nor superiority. On the contrary… he felt respect. Because despite being simple mortals, they carried the difficult task of upholding a truth far greater than themselves.
However, there was one face that chilled Jugram's blood.
Among the twelve, one looked at him with clouded eyes. His presence was heavy, like an unnamed shadow. It was Judas.
Jugram recognized him at once. Not through any hidden power, but through the fragments of stories that had reached even his former world.
He clenched his fists.
While the other men laughed, spoke, and shared bread with Jesus, Jugram approached the traitor.
"I know who you are," he muttered softly, his eyes like flames meeting Judas's. "And I know what you're going to do."
Judas looked at him, bewildered, as if not understanding what he meant. But there was fear in his gaze.
Jesus, who had been watching the scene from a distance, rose from his place and walked toward them.
"Jugram," he called calmly.
The god turned toward him, his voice heavy with restrained rage.
"Why do you allow this?" he demanded. "Why, knowing what he'll do, don't you cast him out? Why don't you stop his hand before it's too late? You are his master, his friend… and mine too! I can't understand how you can sit at his side knowing of his betrayal!"
The silence grew heavy.
Jesus stopped in front of Jugram, his eyes clear as the dawn. On his face, there was no anger or reproach. Only infinite compassion.
"Because it must happen," he answered in a whisper. "Every man carries a purpose in this world. Every choice, good or bad, is part of a greater web of which even you and I are a part. Judas… is not my enemy. He is a lost man, guided by his mistakes and fears. And though his choice will bring pain… it will also bring redemption."
Jugram shook his head, furious.
"That's cruelty, Master! I… I thought I had found in you someone different! The only true friend I've had in two lives! How can you let your only friend witness such betrayal and do nothing?"
Jesus smiled, a melancholic light in his eyes.
"You are still my friend, Jugram," he said. "But friendship isn't forcing another to walk our path. It's accepting their nature and trusting that, though darkness comes, the light will return. I cannot change his fate… just as I would not change yours, nor any man's. All I can do is love him… even knowing his error."
The silence between the three was endless.
Judas stepped away, uneasy, not fully understanding those words, while the other apostles continued their conversations, suspecting nothing.
Jugram lowered his gaze. The anger still burned in his chest, but there was something else… a deep sorrow. For the first time, he understood that even a being like Jesus carried the helplessness of watching those he loved suffer.
Jesus placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Walk with me, Jugram. There are still things you must see… and understand."
And without another word, the god —now a man named Jugram— spoke.
"I don't agree with this," Jugram said, leaving the inn in anger.
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