A/N: Yes, this is a new story. I saw the Avengers and read practically every fiction in the HP/Avengers crossover fandom before admitting that I wanted to write my own.

I got this idea while reading Wanderer by cywsaphyre. If for some strange reason you haven't read the story yet, you totally should. I asked them if I could use the idea of Harry being Godfather to Thor and Loki and they were nice enough to say yes!

Also, yes I know, another Master of Death story, very unoriginal, but I need it to be this way for the story to work.

Disclaimer: The day Loki stops being mischievous is the day I own Harry Potter and the Avengers, which is to say…never.

A man dies ... only a few circles in the water prove that he was ever there. And even they quickly disappear. And when they're gone, he's forgotten, without a trace, as if he'd never even existed. And that's all.

- Wolfgang Borchert

C H A P T E R 1

The ocean crashed noisily against the cliff side, creating large sprays of foam that shot up into the air and rained back down as droplets of water in the breeze. Seagulls flew in circles overhead, cawing their high-pitched, awful wails that were carried away with the wind. The sky itself was overcast, the sun completely buried behind layers of thick, cotton-grey clouds, which left the scene below dredged in dim light and eerie shadows.

On the edge of the cliff stood a single man. He was particularly petite for his size, ranging at about five foot seven with almost shoulder length shaggy hair that was such a dark ebony in color that it almost seemed to absorb all light that surrounded it. His skin was naturally pale from the lack of sun and cheery weather, a complete contrast to the darkness of his wind-blown, perpetually messy hair. The man had high cheekbones, a sign of his aristocracy and nobility, which matched well with his smoothed, almost ethereal, features.

His eyes though, were the most unnatural and alluring things about his figure. They were as green as the first leaves of spring, their vibrancy obvious to anyone who managed to look at them. To many it would seem like the endless emerald depths represented life, new life to nature, an awakening from a dead winter slumber, but it was only to the wizard-folk that it represented death, for its color matched perfectly with their most deadly curse.

The man's clothes were loose and unrestricting, flapping chaotically around his slim, yet lithely muscled form as he stood, head tilted, gazing at the sky. Overall his image might be considered one of beauty, an idealistic version of perfection. If one were to look deeper though they would see the light lines of scars that marred his skin and stole away its perfection. The two most prominent being the words the spelled out 'I must not tell lies' on the back of his left hand and the lightning bolt shaped one on his forehead.

The man was a warrior. Though his appearance and relatively small size was deceiving, just one glance into his glazed-over, piercing green eyes would reveal the age and experience that could only be gained by struggling through hardships and war.

Slowly the man's lips parted and a dulcet tenor voice with a distinctly British accent called out to the silently approaching figure behind him. "Why are you here, Andromeda?"

The figure, now recognized as Andromeda stopped in her tracks, only mere feet behind him. The seagulls cawed overhead and the sharp sounds of the waves breaking permeated the air for several seconds before she could answer. "I- I can't do it. I can't take care of him, Harry."

Wet tears began to slowly drip down the light wrinkles of the woman's gray-toned face. Andromeda clutched a clothed bundle up to her chest protectively. "He h-has Lupin's eyes and his hair changes c-colors with his emotions just like N-Nymphadora's used to when she was this s-small." Andromeda paused lightly to allow herself to breathe deeply a few times. "P-plus, his name is Teddy. I just lost Ted and every time I look at him or call his name I'm reminded that they're all dead! My husband and my daughter and my daughter's husband, they're all gone! I'll never see their smiles or hear their voices ever again and every time I look at him – I just can't do it Harry."

By the time her slightly hysterical rant had come to an end the dark-haired, green-eyed, light-skinned figure identified as Harry had turned towards her and placed a placating hand on her slim shoulder.

Slowly Harry pulled her into a tight hug, careful to watch out for the swathed bundle that was Teddy Lupin in her arms. The next several minutes were spent coddling a sobbing Andromeda while she tried to regain her composure.

Quickly she peeled her face away from Harry's shoulder and tried to wipe away the remnants of tears with her upper arm, her hands still too full of precious cargo to use. "You're his Godfather and I just thought that… you were the first person who came to mind. Can you take him?"

Andromeda couldn't look directly at Harry's face. She was too ashamed to.

"Yes, Dromeda, I'll take him in." Harry took hold of the sleeping Teddy and secured him in his arms, "Don't worry, you can visit him any time, I'm quite sure he'll be glad to see you."

Andromeda could only manage a watery smile and a quick thank you before apparating away and leaving Harry and Teddy alone by the water.

Harry looked down at the sleeping bundle in his arms and smiled, "So, Teddy," he whispered, head lowering to hover just above the infant's own, "do you want to live with me?"

Teddy made a tiny snoring sound that Harry decided to take as a yes. Quickly, as rain began drizzling down, He turned and marched into the large manor that loomed ominously in the background.


11 years later

"Why does everyone hate me?"

Harry nearly choked on his bite of Yorkshire pudding. After several seconds of rapidly pounding on his chest Harry finally managed to gag down his food. "What? Why would anyone hate you, Teddy?"

"It's just some kids at school," he murmured, not looking Harry in the eyes, "They all avoid me."

A small frown tugged at Harry's lips, an idea about where this conversation was headed fluttering to the forefront of his mind, "Maybe they're all just shy."

Teddy's head snapped up and he glared at him, his hair turning a vibrant orange color – not unlike that of a fire – before receding to a mellow sea green color. "No they're not! They've got loads of friends and they're always laughing and joking around, but once they see me it all stops. They glare and they talk about me behind my back when they think I can't hear them and I don't know why."

Harry just sighed and began massaging his head with his fingertips. "Don't think much about it, Teddy. It's just child prejudice. If you be the better man and be nice they'll be sure to like you eventually."

A frown crossed the little metamorphmagus' face and his nose scrunched up slightly in confusion, "Why would they be prejudishmis against me?"

"Prejudice, Teddy. I can't really tell you why people are prejudice. They just are." A contemplating look flashed over his face. "Say, Teddy, have I ever told you about the Marauders?" Harry waited for him to shake his head before continuing, "They were a group of some of the biggest troublemakers in Hogwarts. There were four of them all together – all Gryffindor – and they pranked everybody. They went under codenames – your father was one of them."

Teddy's amber eyes widened considerably, "He was? What was his codename?" the excitement in his voice was hard to miss and caused Harry to chuckle under his breath.

"His name was Moony."

Once again Teddy's nose scrunched up in confusion. "That doesn't sound very impressive. Why was he called that?"

"Because he was a werewolf." This time it was Teddy's turn to gag on his food.

"HE WAS A WEREWOLF!" at Harry's scolding look Teddy began to settle back in his chair and use a more indoor appropriate voice. "Does this mean I'm a werewolf? I don't transform on the full moon or anything." Teddy began to avidly study his arms for any signs of sprouting hair that he might have missed.

"No, you're not a werewolf. You just have the gene." Harry answered before smirking, "It's also why your eyes are so pretty – like spun gold."

Teddy's lightly tanned face flushed tomato red at the compliment, whether in anger, embarrassment, or a strange mix of both it was impossible to tell. Either way, the effect was instantaneous, and Harry burst out laughing, his fist pounding on the table at Teddy's scandalized look.

It only took a few minutes before Teddy started giggling along as well and the entire room was filled with the sound of raucous laughter.

When they'd both settled back down and a more serious atmosphere befell them Teddy asked his last question, "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

It was purely innocent and asked with so much sadness that Harry's heart wrenched painfully in his chest. "It was a miscalculation on my part, Teddy. I'm sorry. I thought that people would start to pull their heads out of their own arses and it wouldn't matter if you knew or not. Unfortunately, that seems to be impossible here. In the wizarding world there's just too much pride, fear, and prejudice."


6 years later

A firm yet clipped knock sounded on the large wooden door of the manor. Harry marched towards it quickly with long strides. Upon arriving to the door, Harry quickly glanced through the small glass peephole before reaching out to open it.

"Hello, 'Mione" Harry started, "It's been a while."

Hermione Granger, top witch of her year, entered the manor as Harry stepped aside. Her brown bushy hair was very lightly streaked with gray and the first signs of wrinkles were beginning to show around the edges of her chocolate brown eyes.

Quickly she snapped around on her heel and glared at him, arms crossed. "It's been a while? That's all you can say? Harry, it's been seventeen years since I last saw you! It took me seventeen years to track you down!"

"So you work at the Ministry now? Must be great for you."

"Harry James Potter, you had better not change the subject on me young man!"

"'Mione, you're only like eight months older then me. Stop acting like you're my mother."

"Harry!" her shout created a pregnant silence that was broken the moment Harry shifted to lean his weight on his right leg.

"I don't know what to say to you 'Mione."

"Just…why would you not try to contact us? Ron and I have been so worried, and you've missed out on meeting our children, and…and so much more." Hermione's eyes were becoming moist the more she spoke. Quickly she sat down on a nearby red velvet chair so that she wouldn't accidently collapse.

Under normal circumstances she would have never been so emotional, but these were not normal circumstances. Without realizing it her hand moved to cover her flat stomach and her brown curls fell around her face.

Harry's eyes widened, "You're pregnant?"

Hermione just sniffled and smiled, "Yes, I found out a month ago. Ron was so happy. This one will make our sixth."

"Well…well you look great."

"And you haven't aged a bit. Is it because of the…" Hermione trailed off not wanting to speak about the deathly hallows. Harry understood and just nodded. Hermione began to tear up again. "Not at all? You're not even aging a little bit?" Harry shook his head in the negative. "I'm sorry about all the crying. It's just hormones."

"I understand…well, sort of." Hermione laughed at this.

"What have you been doing these past seventeen years?"

"Taking care of Teddy. It's his last year at Hogwarts and then he's leaving though."

Hermione looked shocked, "I thought he was with Andromeda!"

"No, she gave him to me and I made both of them promise not to tell anyone."

"Oh." Hermione was scanning his face critically, "You do know that he has a massive crush on Victoire, Bill and Fleur's daughter, right?"

Harry couldn't stop his laugh. "How could I not? He's pining away for her. I swear the moment she graduates he is going to propose."

The next several hours were filled with inane chatter as Harry and Hermione caught up with each other's lives over the past seventeen years. In the end she left after forcing Harry to allow them to visit him and have him send an owl every once in a while.

As he closed the large mahogany door behind her, he smiled.


10 years later

It was as Harry had said. Directly after Victoire's graduation Teddy proposed to her and she agreed instantly. The wedding was very small and quaint, filled with all of the Weaselys, Delacours, and Grangers. Andromeda and Harry had hid in the back until the proceedings were over. Teddy and Victoire said their vows and gave each other a loving kiss on the lips, and life went on.

Two years later they had had their first child. They named her Anne. Of course, Harry was then made her Godfather. It was a common joke between Teddy and Harry that his immortality would forever leave him to be Godfather for all of the future Lupins. Harry did not doubt for one second that that was absolutely true.

In fact, it was while Harry was watching over his two-year old Goddaughter that he realized – for the first time since Voldemort – just how true that was.

She had been running around the house stark naked with Harry chasing after her and trying to fit her into at least a pair of shorts. For some strange reason Anne was obsessed with remaining as nude as possible and would often strip off her clothes before heading off to play.

Harry was on his last straw. It was amusing, sure, she was only two and it wasn't like it was scandalous or wrong, but Harry wasn't a fan of picking up her clothes fifty times a day. He was just about ready to cast a sticking charm on them the next time he caught her.

As Harry rounded the corner, he saw a flash of tan vanish up the stairs. As quickly as possible Harry swung himself over the supposedly childproof gate and bolted up after her. It was as he was nearing the top step that – in a rare moment of un-gracefulness – his foot slipped and sent him crashing down.

The fall broke his neck and he died.

Quickly Harry sat up as he awoke in the train station where he had spoken with Dumbledore during the final battle for Hogwarts, King's Cross Station. There was no Dumbledore this time, though. He glanced around the empty white terrain, unsure of what to do. Was this the end?

Suddenly, the sound of a train whistle could be heard. Harry looked over his shoulder just in time to see the Hogwarts Express come to a stop behind him and open its doors. Guessing that it wanted him to enter, Harry clambered up the stairs and sat down in a compartment in the back. Slowly the doors closed, the whistle blew, and Harry joined reality once more.

He awoke to the sound of gut-wrenching sobbing coming from Anne who had no idea what had just happened. The naked two-year old was shaking his arm and trying to get him to move all the while "Pwomising to ne'er take off he' cwoves again."

Instincts taking over, Harry pulled her into a one-armed hug and said, "If you never take your clothes off how will you bathe?"

Anne just hiccupped and answered, "Wif my cwoves on." Harry ruffled her hair and let her lay across his lap until she'd calmed down and fallen to sleep.

Harry was dreading having to tell Teddy that he might have traumatized his daughter.


Many generations later

Time moved quickly. It wasn't long before Ron and Hermione died. They passed away peacefully together in their sleep at the age of one hundred and thirty-five. It was once rumored that only those who were true soul mates could die together like that. It was another twenty-three years later that Teddy died and twenty-five for Victoire. Harry attended all of their funerals hidden under his invisibility cloak.

It was as he and Teddy had joked, for every new Lupin added to the family, Harry was named Godfather. Only the Lupins and their spouses knew about him, the rest of society had failed at hunting him down and deemed him a recluse (and by now thought of him as dead). If only they knew. Harry Potter was history, quite literally. His heroics were taught about in various magic schools, but no one seemed to deem them very important anymore. They all had their own problems and a new Dark Lord had risen, complete with a brand-spanking new prophesy child. Harry's golden days were long over.

Currently, Harry was at St. Mungo's sitting in a hard white chair by a hospital bed. His only remaining Godchild (her parents having been in an unfortunate accident while training dragons in Romania) was lying next to him, holding his hand and panting softly.

Her grip on Harry's hand tightened as her body went through another contraction. She moaned softly and sweat began to bead under her brow. "Harry," she asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"Now why would I be mad at you, Love?" Harry asked, ignoring the throbbing pain from his hand as she squeezed it even harder.

She gave him an annoyed look, "B-because I'm p-pregnant."

"Lots of girls get pregnant."

"Yes, but I'm only fifteen!" It was true. It was during her time at Hogwarts that she had a small fling with some 'cute' seventh year boy and found out that she was pregnant. The boy, who was a pureblood, ditched her the moment he found out and offered to pay her for her silence. That, of course, was met with a punch to the face and a broken nose, but it still didn't stop the fact that there was a baby on the way.

Harry just smiled encouragingly, "And now you know to be more careful in the future!" He wrinkled his nose, a habit he had picked up from Teddy, "And to pick better boys. He's lucky I wasn't there!"

Victoria chuckled a little before another contraction ripped through her body. The medi-witch chose that moment to enter and wasted no time shooing Harry out of the room.

He stood outside the door for six and a half hours before several other nurses shoved him aside and rushed in. Suddenly afraid, Harry entered the room behind them and saw red, quite literally. Blood littered the white linen sheets all around Victoria whose skin was the pallor of ash and gleaming with perspiration.

Several minutes and dozens of spells later, the nurses stepped back with a look of sadness. The head medi-witch turned to Harry and glared, "Are you the father?" She demanded.

Harry almost fainted from shock. "N-no, I'm her Godfather. What's going on?" A more sympathetic look passed over the witch's face and she sighed.

"Her child was stillborn, it was a boy, and there was nothing we could do." The witch looked back over to Victoria, "Unfortunately she's too weak and something was ruptured when the baby was coming out. She's bleeding internally and she's not going to last much longer. We tried to replenish her blood supply and fix the rupture, but the area was too sensitive and ripped open again. We've done the best we can, but she's not going to make it."

For the first time in a long time Harry could feel tears entering his eyes. "How much longer?" he croaked.

"One or two minutes at the most. We numbed her so she can't feel the pain. We'll leave you alone to talk with her."

As all of the nurses exited the room Harry stumbled towards the bed and plopped down in the chair. Slowly Victoria's eyes opened, hazy from all of the spell casting. She tried to speak, but her voice wasn't responding well to her numbed body. She had always been stubborn though and forced herself to form words, "Boy or girl?"

Tears ran rivers down his pale cheeks and he snatched up both of her hands in his, "It was a boy, a beautiful baby boy."

She gave a weak laugh, "I'm…glad. Mother…used to say…that girls weren't fun to…raise."

"You know she was just joking with you, right. She didn't mean it."

"I-I know…but I…still wanted…a b-boy." Her head seemed to sink into the pillow and her eyes were fluttering shut. "Will…you take care…of him?"

Harry started as he realized she didn't know her son didn't make it. Harry was at a loss for words.

"Until I'm better…anyways." She looked directly at Harry's eyes then, pleading with him to say yes.

"S-sure. Of course, you know I will." Harry couldn't bear to tell her the truth in her last moments of life. He felt awful, like he was going to throw up.

"That's…good. I'm sleepy. I'm just…going…to take a…small nap, is that…okay?"

He clutched her cooling hands tighter, but she couldn't feel it. "Yes, take all the time you need, love."


Her breathing became shallow, until Harry could no longer tell if she was alive by the rise and fall of her chest. Her mouth opened just a sliver, which was enough for her to say her parting words, "His…name is…Tobias" and with that her body drained of any remaining energy and she drifted off into a never-ending sleep.

Harry buried her and her son together in the Lupin section of the cemetery, next to her parents. For the first time in hundreds of years Harry was all by himself.

There were no more Godchildren. No one else knew who he was. He was truly alone.


No longer feeling like he had a reason to live, Harry began to act recklessly. He joined a new dragon riding program and nearly got killed by a Hungarian Horntail that could have only been a descendent of the one from his fourth year with the way it tried to roast him every chance it got. After that he joined an expedition to find remaining cockatrice (which were very endangered) and place them in a specialized reserve. For years and years Harry continued to join potentially lethal expeditions and learned all sorts new spells.

It was in the Amazon Rainforest that Harry learned he could still speak to snakes. Apparently it was a language that – once used – could never be forgotten, which was good. After all he had to use it on a small tribe of cannibalistic parselmouths.

It wasn't until forty years after the death of Victoria and her son that Harry finally calmed down. Even with all of his recklessness Harry had still somehow managed to not die a single time during any of his expeditions.

Instead he began focusing on the healing arts and took apprenticeship under a very unknown Wiccan who had mastered the art and was a prodigy to healers everywhere. She hated publicity though so the only ones who knew about her were Harry and the African tribe she lived in. She had beautiful mocha skin and very interesting turquoise eyes.

He worked under her stern, but fair, watchful gaze for ten plus years before, ironically enough, he touched a plant that just so happened to be covered in a toxin that sunk in through the skin. After all his years of trying to let himself die through dangerous stunts and reckless maneuvers Harry Potter found himself dying at the hands of a poisonous weed in a vegetable garden. Somewhere out there the fates were laughing at him.


Once again the clean whiteness of King's Cross Station appeared before Harry. He looked around the platform with a bored expression, already used to the sight. There was one difference this time, though.

On one of the benches sat an old man with very black hair in a prim looking and well-kept black suit. Briefly Harry wondered if it was Italian. On the man's lap was a box of pizza from some pizzeria in New York.

To say Harry was confused would be an understatement. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously. He was pretty sure that he had never met this man before.

The man looked up with a small smile on his wrinkled face and answered, "I am Death."

"W-what?" That was new. He scanned over the form in front of him. Death looked perfectly normal just sitting on the bench and taking a bite of cheesy pizza.

"I am Death." He repeated patiently. "I felt like we should have a talk."

"You're not exactly what I imagined you'd be." And it was true. Most would picture him as a shadowed entity or a skeleton with a scythe.

"No, I guess I'm not am I? What do you know about the hallows?"

Harry paused at the abrupt question before answering, "They're what's keeping me alive, right? My ancestors got them from you. I earned them all and became the Master of Death and even though I threw away the resurrection stone, I still somehow have managed to not age."

Death offered Harry a slice of pizza, which he warily accepted. Slowly he took a cheese and olive filled bite. It was surprisingly good.

"You are mostly correct, young master." Death began, looking at him with his black eyes. "I offered them to your ancestors in my more rebellious days. They did what they wanted and in the end I claimed their souls, but never could I gather up all of the items again. Instead, now, they rest in your care. You will never age and you will never die."

"But what about the resurrection stone?"

"It lays powerless where you dropped it. The powers were absorbed by you when you took the title as my master."

"Oh." There wasn't much more someone could say in a situation like this. "Do you think that you could claim my soul?"

Here Death paused, "Ah, I'm sorry, but your soul no longer has a place in any of the potential afterlives. No place will accept your death and there is no such thing as oblivion. I cannot ferry your soul to where it's not wanted, that would be too much unnecessary paperwork, and in the end they would say no."

The Hogwarts Express blew its whistle and entered the station at top speed before slowing down to a screeching halt. The doors opened up and what sounded like a radio voice announced that all passengers should get on and that they would be leaving in five minutes.

"This is my stop, I guess." Harry said, standing up. "It was nice getting to talk with you." Just as he was about to take his first step towards the train, Death stopped him.

"Harry, you know you don't have to get on that train, right?"

Harry turned around with a surprised look on his face, "Then how will I get back to where I was?"

"Do you want to go back?"

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"There is a large myriad of worlds, planets, and dimensions to explore. No matter where you go death is inevitable. Every place that exists is ruled by the laws of death."

"So you mean I could go anywhere in the universe?" The doors to the Hogwarts Express closed and the train sped off out of the station. A thick plume of gray smoke left behind a trail in the air that was quickly disappearing.

"In a sense, yes. All you have to do is get on a different train. Each train takes you somewhere new. If you want to go back to where you just were then all you have to do is board the same train and you'll wake up in your last location before 'death'."

Harry wasn't quite sure why, but there was something comforting about talking to Death. Slowly he lowered himself back onto the bench and grabbed another slice of pizza. Looking down he noticed a brown briefcase sticking out from under the bench.

"Don't you have to be working right now?" He asked, "People must be dying all the time."

"No. I hardly involve myself with the dead anymore. I have several thousand reapers under my employment who deem whether the soul is ready to pass on or not before guiding them to where they need to be. I'm only needed for major catastrophes, like Noah's Ark, or whenever one of your petty wars breaks out. On one world I had to completely wipe out the entire planet, but occasions like that are rare."

A sharp high-pitched whistle that almost burst Harry's eardrums rang through the air as a light blue train with elegant silver edging entered the station and pulled to a smooth halt. The same announcer voice gave the same message as the Hogwarts Express and opened its doors to wait.

"Where does this one lead to?" Harry asked.

Death just smiled a little, Harry thought he probably didn't smile a lot though because it just looked downright terrifying. "You'll have to find out. I'm not going to help you." With that Death began to stand up and grabbed his briefcase after closing his box of pizza. "Just remember, you shouldn't judge a place so soon after entering." With those words and a foreboding chuckle, Death left Harry alone on the platform.

With under a minute left Harry decided to chance it and hopped onto the train, this time situating himself in a compartment in the front. The whistle blew and the train began to leave the station. Harry shivered; the train was extremely cold and uncomfortable. Just as the train was about to enter a bright white tunnel Harry blacked out.


When Harry woke up he was cold. His entire body was numbed to the core. Slowly he pushed himself up off the squishy ground with his arms, which he noted were extremely red.

Blearily he tried to blink everything into focus. He'd been lucky. When he'd worked under the Wiccan she had given him a mixture that improved eyesight to the point where he no longer needed glasses. It wasn't perfect vision, but it was good enough.

Harry kept blinking, trying to get rid of all of the white in his vision until he realized with a start that he was staring at snow.

Quickly he stood up and scanned his surroundings. There was nothing but large mountainous ranges of ice as far as the eye could see. Snow blanketed the ground, most of it frozen solid, and large shadowy figures could barely be seen lumbering in the background.

A light crunching sound was made in the snow behind him and quickly Harry spun around. His chest was suddenly filled with a searing pain as it was stabbed through with a giant blade of ice. He collapsed to his knees, warm crimson life dripping down from the wound and melting the snow. He gave a wet cough and a large gob of blood dribbled out past his pale lips.

The last thing he saw as he faded into death was a giant blue man looking down at him, bloodied ice dagger clutched expertly in his hands.


A/N: So this is the longest chapter I've ever written of anything. This chapter was supposed to have the most angst out of all of them, so don't worry, it gets better from here. I'm really worried about what you guys think so don't be afraid to leave feedback!

The Death I used was the one from Supernatural (Which I don't own! {He's in my top 5 favorite Supernatural characters}). In one episode Death says: "This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you."

Which pretty much says that his domain is everywhere, so that's where I've taken it. ALSO don't get offended by the mentions of afterlives or alternate places when you die, I'm not picking a religion or anything here. In Supernatural there's Purgatory, Hell, and everyone gets their own Heaven if they were good. They also have all of the other gods and whatnot, so I'm just going to say they all exist in a way. I'm not trying to offend or claim to be right about anything.

Please tell me what you think!