Chapter Text
Apollo was a fool, he always had been, and this just settled it. And now, as he lay there on the ground paralyzed, electricity still coursing through him. There was nothing he could do about it. God, why was it all that he could hear was screams and metal clashing against metal.
The sounds made him sick.
One scream of pain caught his attention more so than the others before a loud bang, and lightning hits somewhere nearby, making his ears ring. And then there was a sickening laugh. The paralysis slowly wearing off, the electricity shocking through him still causing him to twitch, Apollo tilts his head and there's not much he can do to keep himself from being sick. There stood in the middle of the bloodbath stood Willis. The one person meant to protect him, protect Artemis, protect their team, his older brother, stood there with a wicked look in his eyes as bolts of electricity sparked off and around him, blood splattered across his clothes as he pulls his short sword out of the back of what was once their teammate.
And he laughs, and he laughs, and he laughs, and Apollo wants to cry.
Vaguely he can see Artemis on the ground, blood pooling around her, but she's twitching and Apollo can vaguely see her chest rise and fall. He had never been so full of relief then at that moment.
But the fight is not done, he doesn't even know if he can fight anymore, but he knows he can do something.
And so he crawls, stopping every few seconds as a bolt of electricity causes his body to twitch. But eventually, he makes it to Artemis, and with the last of his strength he places a hand on her, channeling what little healing magic he has left in him, and he watches a bit of strength return to her.
The two of them know what they have to do, so Artemis raises their hand with newfound strength.
It doesn't take much, the small pulse of water she's able to send flying into Willis is enough to knock him back and to the ground, and it's enough for him to lose focus, the electricity he was once summoning fizzling out.
And Apollo wants to weep, he's so, so tired, and maybe the battle is over.
All they have to do is get back up and send one last hit to knock Willis out, then they can take him back and keep him locked up till this, whatever this is wears off, and their brother will be back.
With the corners of his vision going black and swirling, he gets up, leaning onto his sister to keep the both of them from collapsing; they hobble over to where Willis should be.
The smell of blood and scorched flesh lingering in the air, the siblings make it to where the body of their brother must be, but there's nothing other than slightly burnt ground in the shape of what appears to be a lightning strike, and at that moment, they knew they had lost, much more than just a battle, much more than just their friends, and much more than their brother.