Amidst the grandeur of Olympus, the vast expanse of the open throne room was dominated by the mammoth structure of Zeus's seat of power.
The power of the throne was volumized by the low rumbling of the thunderous nimbus. It seemed to defy mortal understanding and it was made to do so. It was a breathtaking blend of mythril gold that shone with an otherworldly glow and was accented with streaks of solidified rain, like teardrops frozen in time. These rain droplets shimmered under the sporadic bursts of fire, mist and gray light, their luminosity rivaled only by the strategically placed diamonds which refracted light into a spectrum of colors, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The room was a sea of shadows and whispers, pierced only by the occasional rumbling of thunder and the dance of flames from the grand braziers strategically placed around the marble hall. The atmosphere was thick with tension, almost as if the very air was holding its breath, waiting for a storm to unleash through Zeus's will.
In the eye of this tempest sat Zeus, the King of Olympus. While he had always been a beacon of strength and authority, today, there was a slight falter in that facade. His hands, which had commanded the elements and felled giants, were now clutching the arms of his throne with palpable unease. The knuckles whitened as he gripped tighter, betraying his inner turmoil. As seen by vessels of ichor that were visible on his skin and eyes.
Once bright and piercing, now had a dim glow, like embers struggling to stay alive amidst a waning fire. They were windows into his soul, revealing a storm of confusion and anxiety raging within. The reason for his unrest: someone had dared to breach the gates of Tartarus, the realm of the condemned, without his or his brother Hades's consent.
Whispers among the gods spoke of prophecies and ancient warnings, of old enemies and new threats. But Zeus's mind was not on those rumors; it was on the audacity of the intrusion, and the unsettling feeling that the foundations of his rule, and perhaps even the cosmos, were shifting beneath him.
Despite the quiver in his heart, Zeus straightened, feigning strength and certainty. For the gods and goddesses who looked up to him, for the mortals who remembered him, and for the very order of the universe, he had to remain unyielding, even in the face of the unknown.
But the question lingered in the heavy air – who could be audacious enough to defy the gods and what did they seek in the forbidden depths of Tartarus?
"Now, where is my dear brother…."
Zeus sighed, the heavy clouds above his head breathed in response. They parted, allowing warm light to fall upon their benefactor in an attempt to soothe his anxiety alas, the King of the Gods could not quell the rage within his mind. Before he could call for Hermes, the sound of familiar clicks of slippers distracted him.
Soon enough, heavy gilded doors swung open with a slow, resounding creak. Grey light flooded the entryway, casting long, dramatic shadows upon the smooth, marbled floor of the throne room. At the center of the magnificent hall, atop a colossal, ornate throne sat Zeus, leaning close to the entrance in an attempt to see if his lazy and laid-back brother had finally graced his presence.
Hades strolled in, looking every bit like a weary office worker at the end of a particularly tiresome Monday. His posture was slightly slouched, the heavy, obsidian-black robes of his station hanging loosely from his frame, whispering against the marble as if his very being was communicating with the underworld.
Pushing back his silver curls from view, pale fingers casually flipped through a set of parchments, the written reports of the underworld. Each flip of the page was soft yet crisp, the sound matched with each step on the cold marble, as if keeping beat to the song of his own indifference.
"Zeus," Hades began, not bothering to give a formal greeting or even a nod of acknowledgment. He yawned, stretching his fingers and toes discreetly. "You really ought to consider some relaxation techniques. Your stress has been causing quite the ruckus in the mortal realm. More work for me, really. Floods, thunderstorms, you name it."
As if to exaggerate his mild annoyance, the man shook his head, his nose brushing against the papers he held up.
Zeus' gaze darkened, the ambient light in the room seeming to dim in response to his anger. "You dare walk into my hall, casually flipping through papers like some common scribe? And then you mock me? You may be a King of your underworld, but do know that in Olympus, you bow to me."
Hades looked up, finally giving Zeus his full attention, his dark eyes reflecting the fires of his domain. "On the contrary, dear brother, I am no longer the superior in my realm. That honor goes to my wife."
The two brothers fell silent before sighing in unison. They knew the burden of having a wife. Zeus's eyes widened as he leaned towards his brother with a smile.
"Oh, have I told you about my recent escapade?"
"Hmm…" Hades ignored the incoming conversation. Usually, Poseidon would be available to entertain Zeus in this area of conversation unlike Hades, who was happily married to his Lady.
"There was a water nymph and a beautiful mortal. I think she was a princess of a mortal King. I had blessed him some time ago, I was promised his daughter but the man thought he could hide her from me."
Zeus laughed, the clouds rumbling in response. Hades simply observed his frivolous nature and folded his arms in front of him. He pretended to give Zeus his full attention, knowing how cranky the man would get if his authority was being denied.
"Oh, you don't say. What then?" Hades forced a smile, sarcasm dripping from his tongue which went ignored by the thunderous man.
"What do you think? My dear wife found out and cursed the two women."
The King of the Underworld narrowed his eyes and looked back to his reports. He whipped out a list of recently departed souls and found the names of the two women in question.
"Oh yeah, I see their names. Their souls have recently entered my realms…"
"Yes, yes. Give them my best regards."
"No brother, let the two women rest in the Underworld. I don't want your wife to storm my realms. You know how Persephone gets if someone displays actions of wrath. She has recently grown miasmic plantations in the realms, she wants them alive. As ironic as it sounds."
"Ahhh yes, I understand. Your wife….she is a keeper."
The two men nodded and fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hades cleared his throat and continued, "Any who, I merely wanted to point out the consequences of your temper. Speaking of which, while you've been dealing with natural disasters, I brought you the reports that you asked for and let me present my personal analysis. The beings that compromised my realm were no ordinary wayfarers."
Zeus leaned forward, the weight of his power palpable in the room. "Compromised? On your watch? How?"
Raising an eyebrow, Hades continued, nonchalantly, slapping upon the papers in his hands. "Unlike the grandeur of Mount Olympus, the Underworld has had its peace. But it seems someone bypassed Cerberus and all the checks in place. They knew precisely how to navigate the shadows and avoid any of the procedures I had put in place for entrance into Tartarus."
Hades flipped to multiple pages as he spoke, "Now it is nigh impossible to enter the underworld without crossing the River Styx. Charon would have known."
Zeus sighed, the raw energy in the room dissipating slightly.
"That narrows down our possibilities…" Zeus muttered darkly, looking about his throne room whilst imagining possible Gods and Demi-gods who could plot such a nefarious plan.
Hades looked back at his report, flipping a page. "Judging by their actions, they could be gods, demi-gods, or some unusually knowledgeable mortals. Either way, someone who's been to the Underworld before or has insider knowledge."
Hades murmured Homer's name under his breath but knew that the man was filed as a member of the Underworld for eons.
Zeus' expression softened, a hint of worry clouding his gaze. "Keep me updated, brother."
Hades nodded, a rare show of agreement. "As always."
Zeus leaned back against his throne, the crisp sound of papers tolling in the electrified air. Zeus hummed and looked towards his brother one more time. Unlike Poseidon, Zeus held a more practical faith in Hades. It's rare for his realms to be compromised but when they are, Hades is quick to capture the beings in question. Considering, Hades was hard to anger but when he was? Not even he dared to put himself in his path despite him being the King of the Gods…Hades could be worse than his damn bitter and spiteful wife.
Zeus was aware that it was Tartarus which was compromised henceforth, his concern held weight. Hades surprisingly did not mind his brother's fear, since it was after all, the place of imprisonment of Cronos.
"Call for Hermes. Ask him to gather Apollo, Ares and Athena for me." Zeus got up from his throne, the mist that comprised most of his throne, bellowed about his toga. Some of it snaked about his body and hair, accumulating within his hand.
It gathered and swelled within his hollow grasp until it solidified into a shimmering staff of white-gold. Hades rolled his eyes at the dramatic display of power but conjured a bell. He rang it and just when the last chime dissipated in the air, Hermes arrived out of the ether.
Akin to a child, the agitated man raked his fingers through his wild mane and dramatically bowed to Hades.
"Yeah. Uh. Where do I go?"
"Before that, shouldn't you ask me who you want me to fetch?"
Hermes looked rather stressed and anxious. His very features betrayed his mental turmoil, it seemed as if he couldn't understand what Hades had just commented. Before he could ask for the Underworld King to elaborate, Hades rolled his eyes and continued
"Forget that, gather Ares, Apollo and Athena. Tell them that Zeus requires their assistance. And do this, immediately."
Hermes nodded, his wild mane flying in the wind as if they were building static.
"Yes sir. And, I bring them here… right?"
Hades sighed, while Zeus's rage began to grow. It was evident through the lightning that sparked overhead.
"Yes, Hermes. Bring them here. In the throne room. Zeus's throne room."
"Yes. Yes. Right here. I got it."
Akin to a squirrel, the sporadic man vanished from the scene leaving Hades to calm his brother down by turning his attention to another task.
"We cannot ignore this, brother," Zeus's voice rumbled like a distant storm. "Tartarus is my prison, and something, or someone, has dared to breach its walls then it only means that someone wishes to revive Cronos."
Hades sighed, the weight of the underworld ever on his shoulders. "These infiltrators must be found. If they've found a way into Tartarus, then we must prepare ourselves for another war. The humans will not be prepared for the Titans."
Their discussion was cut short by the entrance of Hermes, the messenger god. His winged sandals barely made a sound against the marble as he announced the arrival of Athena, Apollo, and Ares. The three entered, but not harmoniously.
Athena, graceful and dignified, stepped forth with an aura of wisdom surrounding her. Far behind, the two brothers, Apollo and Ares, were squabbling loudly. As Hermes announced their arrival, the atmosphere in the hall tensed. Athena's poised form stood in stark contrast to the two figures behind her who seemed engrossed in their own dispute.
Apollo, in radiant robes that shimmered like sunlight, jabbed a finger at Ares, "Your insatiable lust for warfare keeps humanity forever on the brink, Ares. They are capable of such beauty and wonder. How are they to cultivate their aesthetics, to shape culture and art, when they're constantly at each other's throats?"
Ares, ever the embodiment of war with his bronze-clad form and wild, fiery eyes, smirked. "Your songs and plays put them to sleep, brother. It's the thrill of battle, the test of might and mettle that truly awakens their spirit. Why should I stop when it's what they secretly crave? Besides, isn't the best art born from conflict and passion?"
Athena, hearing their argument, tried to maintain her patience, but it was wearing thin. "This is neither the time nor place for such disagreements," she tried to mediate, her eyes never leaving her father's somber expression.
But Apollo wasn't finished. "If only you'd see that there's more to life than just conquest and bloodshed. And speaking of which, Artemis, our sister, does your job better than you. Her arrows strike true, every time, without causing pointless wars."
Ares' laughter boomed through the hall, "You always were the jealous one. Always in the shadow, always second best. Maybe if you spent more time in the field and less time with your precious laurels, you'd understand the essence of life and death."
As the heat between them continued to rise, Athena, ever the strategist and peacekeeper, decided to intervene. "Enough!"
She bellowed, her voice echoing with power and wisdom. She stepped between them, her shield raised, attempting to physically separate the two. "This is a council, not a battlefield. We are here for a purpose."
Her words, though filled with authority, were momentarily overshadowed by Zeus's tempestuous intervention. But for that fleeting moment, the squabble between two gods laid bare the eternal contrasts of the divine pantheon.
But it was Zeus who reclaimed the room's attention. His fury tangible, the skies outside darkened, echoing his mood. A lightning bolt, brilliant and terrible, cracked outside the window. The message was clear: enough. Apollo, Ares, and Athena all turned towards Zeus, a reluctant respect in their eyes.
Beside Zeus, Hades looked on, a mixture of annoyance and amusement evident on his face. "Siblings," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Now that I have your attention. I must ask for your assistance. Long story short, Tartarus has been breached."
Thunder growled between them and the three Gods stood wide-eyed. They instantly knew how grave the situation was once Hades had uttered that sentence. Once the news had been digested, Hades swiftly continued, relaying the plans to the three Gods.
"Ares and Apollo, use your powers to scout the mortal and immortal realms. I and Zeus must receive detailed reports on whoever you deem suspicious and capable of entering Tartarus. Be it God or mortal."
The two Gods nodded and went their ways before Athena stood before the two Gods. Zeus stepped forward, placing his palm on Athena's head as a gesture of his love for his daughter. Unlike many of his children, he was the proudest of Athena. She was his right hand advisor and the wisest of all Gods. Unlike many Goddesses, to him, Athena held the highest honor and it was given.
"Ah my owlette, the justice affairs of the mortals and immortals have taken a toll on you."
Athena's eyes had softened upon feeling her father's secure hold but she did not dare to show her weaker side for Hades was present.
"I am quite alright, father. You do not need to worry, in fact, something darker is afoot."
Athena's wise eyes turned to Hades who was far too engrossed in a paper he held in his hand. He read it a few times before handing it to Athena.
"I trust your judgment on this project, Goddess. You must set up defenses for Olympus and the Mortal realms. We must be prepared for any and all dangers. Natural to Titan-borne. It is inevitable that the mortals will be caught in the cross-fire. We must limit the casualties at least."
Athena bit her bottom lip. The very thought of losing the majority of the human race to a war that was destined to never start again was devastating. Not only that, the Gods had made peace with the fact that the human race had reduced them to mere myths. Acts of their wrath and punishment was distilled to numbers and theories which was hilarious for many of the Gods.
The veil, which was created out of ignorance, was now a necessity. If she were still a young Goddess, she would have loved to tear this rift down but she saw it as wise now. This veil allowed the Gods to be Gods and humans to remain as humans. A necessary divide in her opinion even if they lost the worship of the majority.
"Yes, yes. I will do what is necessary."
Athena bowed to the two Gods and calmly exited the throne room, leaving Zeus and Hades to their own devices.
"By the fates, I hope we avoid the war. I don't want to imagine the influx of souls that will enter my realm. We already have a shortage of space."
"Hmm…. wasn't Persephone thinking of erecting plantations that will serve as homes?"
"Oh yes. It's an ambitious project and she thinks it is Underworld friendly. She thinks that it will make the Underworld look much less like… the Underworld." Hades groaned, but he couldn't help but respect his wife's clever mind.
"Wait, how did you know?"
Zeus suddenly felt his throne room grow frigid. The breaths they took were as thick as snow and he knew that his brother's wrath was nothing as short as his.
"Hera told me. She enjoys spending time with your wife and Demeter."
"Oh. Understandable, that reminds me. Dionysus invited me to a Luncheon. Did he ask you as well?"
"Yes. Will you go?"
"No."
Hades bade adieu to his brother and left for the underworld. Zeus was left alone to his thoughts and after eons, the man felt afraid of the future.
"Perhaps I should visit those crony-old fates."
***
In a grand building reminiscent of the Greek Pantheon, two women worked diligently alongside others, hoisting crates and burlap bags filled with supplies. Their shared mission had brought them together, though they hailed from lands far apart.
"Where do you want this, ma'am?"
A man dressed in neon-yellow overalls asked as he trolleyed over a mountain of supplies which contained basic, survival supplies. Food, water, and clothes etc.
"Oh take it inside the shelter, instruct your boys to follow you. There will be volunteers inside who will help you out further."
Patting his back, Ahmanet rejoined Adamantia who was helping with one of the organizers. Since she had many of these shelters worldwide, it was difficult to instruct each shelter on the precautions. Ever since Poseidon had graced her home, the two women had decided to alert each branch and begin the extermination level protocol. The real difficulty was to have eyes on each branch to avoid unjust treatment or the theft of the supplies.
Ahmanet, balanced a crate with practiced grace. Her history was etched in the lines of her face, revealing a life filled with purpose. Opposite her, Adamantia, moved with an efficiency that bespoke her years of experience in community service. The two women moved mountains, figuratively and literally so this was an easy feat for them.
The noise of shuffling feet, coordinated calls, and the creaking of wooden crates filled the air. Suddenly, Adamantia's phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the symphony of work. She excused herself, handing off her burlap bag to a nearby volunteer, and answered the call.
"Yes, this is Adamantia. Ah, you're at the east gate? No, you must head to the northern shelter. Yes, the one near the square. Thank you."
Walking outside the majestic building, Adamantia paused to look at the sky. Dark and cloudy, it hung over the city like a shadow, promising a downpour. She could almost smell the rain in the air, a mixture of relief and foreboding.
As she continued to speak to the supplier, her eyes caught a pigeon. The bird was frozen mid-flight, wings outstretched as if caught by an unseen hand. The strange stillness seeped into her surroundings, and the voices around her faded. It was as though time itself had stopped.
"What the hell… don't tell me it has begun."
"Not quite but soon my daughter." A voice echoed but there was no originator. She turned, her heart pounding from the strange voice. She tried to find the person who had just spoken to her but she saw that everyone in the square had frozen in place, their faces etched with expressions captured in a silent moment. All except one man, dressed casually in a charcoal, v-neck sweater and jeans.
He was standing across the street, underneath a bright red stop sign. Pale and humming an unfamiliar tune, he tapped a scythe on the ground, his eyes fixed on Adamantia. In those eyes, she saw something ancient, something that resonated with a part of her which she could not quite understand.
Outside, Adamantia approached the man with the scythe, her mind racing. The reality she knew had been broken, and now she faced something inexplicable and profound. Standing at the threshold of an encounter that would challenge everything she understood, especially when it concerned Mount Olympus and the Gods.
"Cronos… it can't be."
"No, it's an old lady from the Fates."
The old man coughed into his fist, visibly annoyed by Adamantia's attitude.
"Don't fuck with me, Cronos. What are you doing here?"
She merely blinked and the man had reversed his age. Before she could confirm anything, she realized that her feet were frozen to the pavement. Just like that pigeon, she was unable to move except for her consciousness. She was hyper aware of her surroundings despite her paralyzed state.
"I wanted to visit my one hundredth emotionally disturbed daughter. Niece…. Or pet. Whatever you are."
Her voice, when it finally broke the silence, was strong, carrying the weight of her name and her history.
"What the fuck are you doing here Cronos."
The middle aged man had turned into a teenager, he leaned against his scythe, watching Adamantia with eyes like a bird of prey.
"Oh? And what are you going to do? Daughter of Medusa and Poseidon?"
The boy laughed, his belly shaking with such force that caused the natural world to ripple. Such was the power of Cronos.
"Are you going to turn me to stone?" Cronos kicked the bottom of his scythe, causing it to spin in his hold until it landed across his shoulders. Skipping across the pavement, he stood behind Adamantia, watching the World in its frozen state.
"I like the mortal plane like this. Perhaps I shall let it stay like this. These buffoons will not know of the wars that will occur so I will be sparing them the scenes of apocalypse. Although their rude awakening will be in the form of visiting the Underworld for Judgement."
"Don't you dare."
"Dare what? Reclaim the world that I had created?"
Suddenly, Cronos stepped back into Adamantia's sight. He was a middle aged man again. Tall and willowy, his face was able to petrify her even further. His eyes were large and intimidating, staring into her very soul and perhaps the origins of it.