Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

ARES .

“Do you have any news on the scepter?”

Ares shook his head, settling into the chair opposite Athena. He had spent the better half of two weeks scouring the forests of Olympus for the scepter Zeus described. The Six suggested starting with the forest garden, and working their way outward from there. Yet despite thorough searches, no such garden had been found. If it once existed, the trees had long since swallowed it up.

When that lead had proven unfruitful, Ares and a handful of others turned to knowledge. Though no Olympian had successfully identified the scepter or its origins, other ancient beings might have held the information they sought. But despite the combined efforts of himself, Themis, and Hermes, they were no closer to solving the mystery. Nyx knew of no such scepter, and neither did her children. Pontus, difficult as he could be to contact, had still managed to make it clear that he had no answers; or, if he did, was unwilling to share.

Ares had never been very good at diplomacy, but with the possibility of a giant resurgence, he was willing to play the part. He simply worried he was not doing enough.

Athena frowned at his lack of information, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He did not know how she could be surprised. No one was able to find anything of use about the scepter. The only person in the world who seemed to understand its capabilities was the goddess they were actively fighting against. Typical.

There was another lead, though. According to Athena, Zeus had been in possession of an ancient text while Gaia controlled him. She had likely sent him to fetch the book. The thought of any one of them being so susceptible to such an extreme lack of autonomy was daunting to Ares, particularly because Zeus could remember no such text. He could piece together only part of his time in possession, which meant Gaia had manipulated his memories enough to make a mystery of this book.

Athena could only guess at what the text contained, but they knew Zeus came into contact with the scepter after he found the book. If they could find the text, they could find answers.

Maybe.

There were a hell of a lot of maybe’s going around.

“What’s on the agenda for today, then?” Ares asked, stretching his leg out on one of the empty chairs. So far, it was only himself and Athena in the room - but he doubted she wanted to speak to him alone.

“I want to re-strategize. I believe we have been going about finding our items the wrong way. If we-”

The door whined as it opened, revealing the weary faces of Artemis and Apollo. They had spent the better part of the night monitoring Nisyros for activity, the resting place of Polybotes. If Gaia wanted to raise a fearsome army, the theory was she would start with some of her strongest.

“Is there coffee?” Apollo asked miserably. When Athena shook her head, he groaned and flopped into one of the spare chairs in the meeting hall, head lolled backwards.

“Have you managed to contact our heroes?” Artemis looked slightly better than her twin, though not by much. Her hair was still unkempt, dark circles under her eyes, shoulders slumped. But she was still standing, at least. Apollo already had one foot in the grave.

They were all run ragged. Fear of what was to come had kept them going for a while - but since Gaia’s appearance in the throne room, nothing had actually happened. They were running on fumes, and for what?

It was hard to say.

“I have some in mind,” Athena assured her. “We’re working on that. For the time being, preventing any more from rising is our best bet.”

Giants did not seem to need the help of a hero to be put down anymore, since the Six had managed it last year on their own. But they were better safe than sorry.

“Who are we waiting for?” Apollo slurred, eyes closed, hands clasped behind his head to support his skull.

“Father,” Athena replied. “He should be with us shortly.”

The silence, for once, was not uncomfortable. Athena hardly liked to speak unless it was necessary, and with how exhausted Apollo and Artemis were, Ares found his thoughts wandering. The first war with the giants felt like a dream. Though, he had not exactly been in a healthy state of mind. Days spent locked in confinement within that bronze jar had addled his mind, and by the time the real fighting came, he’d been a tempest. Unhinged, broken, and bloodthirsty. It was not until the fighting was done that he had managed to process all that he’d done - and had done to him.

Though ultimately successful, the gigantomachy had taken its toll on many of them. No one wished to see a repeat.

The door opened again, and Zeus entered. Though he seemed less worse for wear than he had a few weeks earlier, there was a stormy kind of tension that cloaked him everywhere he went. The details of his possession had begun to circulate, in small bouts. If what Ares heard was true, he did not blame his father for being so disconcerted. For once.

“Apologies for being late,” Zeus muttered, slumping into the seat next to Athena. “Nisyros - Any updates?”

“None.” Artemis was quick with it, far faster than Apollo who only just seemed to realize Zeus had joined them. She signed as she spoke. “No one unusual has appeared on the island, and it’s as quiet as ever. Polybotes still slumbers.”

“Good,” Zeus breathed. “The scepter?”

“Nothing yet.” Ares frowned. “But Athena said she had a new strategy.”

Athena nodded, leaning forward to slide their father a piece of paper. “I think we’re going about our research all wrong. I do not think the staff itself is meant to resurrect the dead, the way we thought. I think it’s merely a conduit for energy… and lots of it.”

“And how does that change our search?” Zeus asked, brows furrowed. “The scepter is still just that - if no one recognizes its description, how does its use help us in finding it?”

“Items can change their shape, father. The scepter might not have always been so - but its use may have been the same. If we ask around again, we may yield different results.”

Zeus nodded carefully, resting his chin in his palm. “Maybe. It’s worth a try. Any luck with Ananke, Ares?”

Ares winced, slouching in his chair. “No. She... doesn’t like visitors. Made that painfully clear last time we tried. I think I’m still bruised.”

“Get through to her,” Zeus insisted. “I suspect she will know something about this.”

Ares was trying , but it was damned difficult. He did not know why he had been placed in charge of something so important, or delicate. He was war, messy and bloody and unrefined. This game of politics was exhausting, and he feared he was only making matters worse. But Zeus seemed to trust him, and that alone, strange as it was, motivated him to work harder.

“I need us to increase our rotations around Porphyrion,” Zeus continued. “Artemis, Apollo - would you add him to your rounds?”

The twins shared a glance, and Ares felt a twinge of sympathy. They were already exhausted, as they all were, spread too thin.

“Father…” Athena said carefully. “They are already quite busy. Perhaps we can find someone else to do that task.”

Zeus scowled. “Hera is quite insistent, and who here would blame her? Who knows which of us that monster would harm if he rose again. It’s worth the extra security.”

“Agreed,” Athena glanced towards the twins. For all her faults, which only Ares ever seemed to see, she was good at this - mediating between Zeus and the rest of them. She was often willing to take his ire, if only because they all knew he would be most gentle with her. “But we will find someone else to do it, if only to keep some of our best in better condition. Apollo and Artemis need rest, father.”

“I can go,” Ares offered, not wanting to leave his siblings to fend for themselves. “I’m itchin’ to be out in the field.”

Zeus seemed to consider that for a moment, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. “No, Ares. You have spearheaded this search for the scepter, and I won’t have you pulled away now. I’ll go.”

Apollo shot upright, seemingly stunned out of his exhaustion. “No! No, it’s alright, dad, really. We can go. We’ll be fine. You need to stay here and-”

“And what?” Zeus glared. “You think I am not capable?”

“We think that is exactly what Gaia wants you to do,” Artemis interjected. “It is safer for all of us if you remain on Olympus and coordinate us from here.”

“There are other options,” Ares pointed out. “Let me put my sons out there, Deimos and Phobos. If I can’t go, and no one else in this room can go, we can delegate out.”

Zeus paused for a much longer amount of time then, frowning down at the table. No one else dared to breathe, lest they upset their already emotionally fragile father. Sighing, he opened his mouth at last to speak.

Only to be interrupted by the screech of the door thrown wide.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Aphrodite said breathlessly, her skin darkened with a flush, beautiful black curls in disarray around her face. Ares immediately hopped from his seat to greet her, catching her wrist as she leaned against him for support. “It’s in Epirus… One of the burial sites. A disturbance.”

Alarm spiked across Zeus’ face before he managed to smooth it out. He rose to his feet, circling the table to join them.

A pang of worry struck Ares in the belly, and resisted the urge to search his wife for wounds. She was clearly fine… But she had been with Eros, monitoring the resting place of Damysos. Was their son in peril?

“We must go now,” Zeus insisted. “Thank you, Aphrodite, for your haste. Stay here and rest. Those of you who are able, come with me.”

APOLLO .

Aphrodite was not lying.

They found Eros crouched in the brush, visibly relieved to see the rest of them arrive. He gave Apollo a wide berth - even millennia could not heal all grievances - but was insistent as he gestured to the field below.

A lone, dark figure crept across the grass, wielding what looked like a gnarled staff. They did not seem to have noticed the crowd of onlookers, but Apollo wasn’t about to hold his breath that their arrival would continue to be stealthy.

“Could it be..?” Ares whispered.

“We approach with caution,” Zeus commanded. “We must stop this one before they raise the giant.”

There was no hesitation. Carefully and as quietly as they could manage, the five of them crept down the hill towards the figure. Eros remained behind to watch - not that he would be much help, unless they wanted the enemy to fall madly in love with one of them. If they were going to, Apollo hoped the target was Ares.

The figure came to a halt over a mound of dirt - the site of the giant, Apollo was certain. Athena summoned a spear to her hand, the same moment Artemis nocked an arrow. 

Before any of them could attack, or do much of anything really, a grating voice echoed across the plain.

“You are all fools .”

Ares cried out in alarm behind Apollo, launched up into the air by impossible vines that should not have been present in this terrain. Zeus whirled, lightning crackling in his palms, but he was the next to go. He slammed into the ground, restrained by numerous vines.

Artemis managed to fire an arrow at the cloaked figure, but as the arrow struck, the cloak deflated into nothingness. No person, no staff. An illusion of gnarled vines that lunged for her and ripped the bow from her hands before restraining her against the ground.

Apollo stumbled backwards, uncertain where to fire his own arrows. Athena managed to bat away a series of vines, but one of them eventually wrenched the spear from her hands and tugged her backwards.

Apollo did not even see the vine that struck him, sending him flying to the side. He hit the ground with a painful thud, struggling in the vines' grasp. In moments, he was immobilized.

Then silence, interrupted only by ragged breathing and the odd grunt from one of his family members as they struggled in their bonds.

“Perhaps now you will listen.”

“Let us go!” Zeus shouted, though Apollo did not miss the quiver of fear in his voice. “Remember our threats, and-”

“Hush, grandson. You will listen, because if you do not, all of you will die.”

More of that silence. Apollo managed to crane his neck and met Athena’s gaze, startling grey filled with worry.

“Something is coming. Worse than my sons, worse than anything you have faced before. If we do not work together, every good thing in this world will perish.”

Chapter Text

ATHENA.

Gaia’s vines were rough and brutal, rubbing her skin raw. Athena could not make sense of where the strength came from, or how Gaia had summoned plants like this here; but then, Gaia’s powers were as much a mystery to Athena as the whereabouts of the book.

The warning Gaia offered sounded vague and unusual. Athena wanted to press her on it, to squeeze the truth out of her great grandmother, but Zeus beat her to it.

“What is coming?” Zeus demanded. Athena could not see her father, not the way she was pressed against the earth, but she could hear the tremor in his voice. The uncertainty, the fear. She knew he should not have come.

The rest of them tried to struggle against their bonds, but it quickly became apparent that there was no use. The only way to get out of this situation was through words.

“I mean no harm against you or your family, Zeus.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” Ares grunted from somewhere to Athena’s left. She rolled her eyes, and tried to crane her neck towards the rest of her family.

“These are measures I had to take to ensure you would listen to me. My other attempts have been thwarted.”

“You possessed our father! You used him to raise giants, you did not communicate anything at all!” Apollo cried.

“Everything I do is for the good of this world, boy. Olympus is no threat to it now. But in a common enemy I know we shall be united. You must listen.”

“Spit it out, then,” Zeus hissed, strain in his tone. Perhaps, with some lightning…

No. They needed to know what Gaia meant.

“Ouranos is scheming. He has been for some time, but I was too blind to see it. The pillars that keep him immobilized have begun to crack. If Ouranos breaks free, he will have the ability to incapacitate me and all those who wander this Earth.”

Silence. Athena’s chest rose and fell with steady breaths, but her heart thundered inside her ribcage. Ouranos? None had met the Sky in all her years, his position above their world ever-present, never changing. He did not descend because he could not, as Gaia had intended all those centuries ago. Athena had never considered the possibility that he would be able to retaliate, let alone that he would try.

“If they are cracking, then we must repair them,” Athena said at last, neck aching in this position. “Would that be enough?”

“I worry it would not. The pillars could not crack without powerful interference, the kind few are capable of. Myself, perhaps. And Him.”

“How could he break the pillars designed to contain himself?” Ares asked.

“I fear he may have discovered a way to do as I once did - to breed beings on his own, to bring forth creatures capable of massive destruction.”

“Surely we would have heard of these creatures by now,” Artemis said. “How can we trust this to be the truth?”

“This is not a matter of trust, girl. This is a matter of survival. Trust or do not trust - one way or another, I will neutralize this threat by any means necessary.”

“The Giants…” Athena breathed. “You want to raise them to fight the creations of Ouranos?”

“Yes, child. I am limited in my view down here. I see much, but not what occurs in the skies. These creations are powerful, that much I have sensed - but without aid, I am blinded. I know only that it will take a massive force to stop what Ouranos has started.”

The vines released their grips, slithering back into the grass like thorny serpents. Athena sat up immediately, rubbing at her sore neck and biceps. The rest of her family were as eager as she to be free, scrambling away from the site of their capture, massaging sore limbs. Her father rose enough to sit on his knees, head darting back and forth in alarm.

“That’s it?” Zeus breathed, a tumultuous air to his voice. “You tell us this now, and expect that we will allow you to raise our enemies? That we are to believe this threat is real, that we should just forget the past?”

“You are sentimental in your attachments, Zeus. You are pained by our past, this I know. But all I have ever done, or sought to do, is protect this Earth. I have protected the people who walk it. That is what I must do now, with or without your assistance. Yet even I must admit that together, we are infinitely more powerful. I would much prefer your alliance.”

Zeus shook his head incredulously, eyes wide with horror. Athena climbed to her feet, brushing dirt from her knees, and took the lead. This was what she was meant for, after all.

“You understand that this is much for us to process,” She began slowly, unsure of where to look. Gaia’s voice seemed to come from everything and nothing all at once. “And that this is not a decision any one of us can make alone. If we could perhaps have some time to consider your words…”

“You are as wise as your mother,” Gaia hummed. Athena knew well enough what Gaia thought of her mother, and the words made her shudder. “I will give you three days. Three days in which I will refrain from raising my children or acting on this threat. Deliberate in your councils and try to outthink me, but know that you will fail. On the third day, I will come for your decision.”

A ripple of energy rolled across the field. Life burst back into the surrounding terrain, noise flooding in; the rush of wind, the calls of birds, Eros rushing down the hillside in a panic. Sounds Athena did not realize had been missing until they returned.

“What happened?” The winged god demanded, flailing an arrow wildly in his hand. “One moment you were there, and the next - nothing!”

Ares stepped up to his son, whispering to him in a hushed tone while the rest converged together on the field. Zeus climbed at last to his feet, expression stormy.

“Are we really considering this?” Apollo asked wearily, resting a hand on Artemis’ shoulder.

“We have to.” Athena knew it was their best option. Even if Gaia proved to be a liar and a manipulator, it was better to be certain. If she was right about Ouranos, they had to be prepared. “Right, father?”

Zeus did not answer - he did not even look her way - and Athena felt a pang of regret. Did he disagree with her decision to intervene? Did he think she was being foolish?

No. Athena knew this was right, and damn the rest of them.

“Let’s get back to Olympus,” Zeus said instead, voice gruff. “We have much to discuss.”

HERMES.

Trickling water lulled the messenger towards the embrace of sleep, easier than counting sheep. With a mess of silk pillows beneath him, and the hazy scent of incense, it was a miracle Hermes still had his eyes open.

That would be on account of Dionysus, who in inviting Hermes into their abode for some rest, had actually intended to use their brother as a person to ramble to. Every time Hermes felt himself slipping into darkness, Dionysus would speak again and startle him from Hypnos’ sweet clutches.

Assisting Ares in their hunt for knowledge on the scepter had been tiring enough; but Hermes was working overtime delivering messages and books to and from his family members and still completing his shifts for guard duty. He was exhausted.

Dionysus was too - but rather than sleeping like a normal person, they had resorted to drinking, sketching, and rambling when they weren’t expected to continue their search for the book of secrets, or whatever else was so special about it.

“Do you think Gaia would possess one of us?” Dionysus asked, swirling their cup of wine around in dizzying circles. Hermes sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach to face them.

“Maybe,” He said sleepily.

“I wonder what it feels like…” Dionysus mused aloud.

“Shitty, is my guess. Dad seemed pretty shaken up about it.”

“Yes, but father’s circumstances were different.”

Hermes raised a brow. “How so?”

Dionysus faltered for a moment, setting aside the glass with a frown. “You… didn’t hear?”

Hermes had heard a lot of things in the last few weeks, but it was almost impossible to keep track of it all. Each of them had their part to play, and Hermes just did not have the room or capacity for anything that wasn’t necessary. Still, his curiosity was piqued. “Hear what?”

“Ah…” Dionysus paused, tugging at a frayed thread on the end of their shirt. “Well, if the rumours are to be believed… Gaia and our father have a bad history.”

“I mean, what gave that away? Typhoeus was a pretty obvious fuck you.”

“No, Hermes, before that. She… raped him as a child.”

Hermes’ mouth went dry. No, he had certainly not heard that part. If it was true, their father’s behaviour made a lot more sense all of a sudden. For his sake, Hermes hoped that piece of information had not circulated far. 

“It could just be rumours,” Dionysus murmured. “But, if it is to be believed-”

“Then no wonder he’s so fucking paranoid,” Hermes sighed, flopping back onto his back. Between Zeus, Hera, and Ares, the three of them alone had reason enough to fear Gaia’s actions, their pasts with her and the giants more traumatic than most. No wonder the rest of them had been so quickly mobilized. “Maybe I should get back to my rounds.”

Before Dionysus could respond, bells chimed in the distance. Three consecutive chimes, heard loud and clear from all reaches of Olympus. Signal bells.

Zeus was calling a meeting of the Twelve.

“Already?” Dionysus breathed, jumping out of their seat. “We met two days ago.”

“There must have been a development.” Hermes climbed out of his mess of pillows, adjusted his shirt so he looked a little more presentable, and followed Dionysus to the door. The streets of Olympus had been a lot quieter these days, on account of half their forces guarding burial sites, searching for relics, and preparing for battle. A few nymphs and young godlings scurried through the streets, but the usual bustle of the markets was non-existent.

It was eerie. It reminded Hermes of the first time the giants had come knocking.

Dionysus had to hurry to keep up with him, but Hermes did not want to slow down. If something had changed, he wanted to know quickly. Were they going to war? Had they found the scepter?

By the time they reached the council hall, Dionysus was gasping for each breath and Hermes’ calves burned. As they pushed through the door, Hermes found only half their numbers present. Apollo and Artemis were standing together off to the side, heads pressed together as they whispered. Their arms and legs were covered in small nicks.

Zeus was present, conferring with Athena at his throne. Ares and Aphrodite were together as well, the latter fussing over the former, though Hermes could see no visible signs of injury. Zeus gestured for everyone to sit, and as they did, the last few trickled in through the door; Demeter pushing Hephaestus in his wheelchair, Poseidon in a flurry, and finally Hera storming in last.

“What is this about?” Poseidon demanded.

Zeus gave Athena a sideways glance, before finally addressing the room at large. “Gaia wishes to ally with us against an even greater threat.”

Immediate uproar followed his words, a dozen questions, cries of outrage. Allying now? With Gaia?

“Enough!” Zeus commanded, and silence followed. “I hope you are all prepared for a long three days. That’s all she’s given us to decide.”

Chapter Text

APHRODITE.

“Have you all forgotten what the giants did to us?”

“What if we cannot face this enemy alone?” 

“But what’s stopping them from turning on us the second Ouranos is dealt with?”

“If we don’t take Gaia up on her offer, she might not ever have a chance to turn on us - because we’ll be toast!”

Aphrodite sank lower in her seat, running a tired hand over her face. The same arguments had been spewed back and forth for hours, with minimal progress made. The twelve gathered into three camps. Athena spearheaded those of the opinion that Gaia’s words should be heeded, joined by Artemis, Hermes, and Hephaestus. Another group, of the opinion that Gaia could not be trusted and allowing her to raise the giants was foolish, was spearheaded by her own husband. Ares, alongside Apollo, Hera, Poseidon, and Demeter, did not want to move forward in supporting Gaia.

That left herself, Dionysus, and the king. The third group, undecided.

She knew Ares saw this as a betrayal. Vivid memories of Ares’ return to Olympus following his capture haunted her memory. She knew that his heart was made up, driven by the trauma he had endured in that jar; but Aphrodite would not be swayed, even by her own husband, while her conscience was uncertain. 

Trusting Gaia and the giants felt dangerous. But taking the risk that she was bluffing, and failing to prepare for an attack from Ouranos, felt just as perilous.

Aphrodite knew Ouranos better than most. He was her father, if one could use that word to describe a sperm donor. A relationship with him had never been in the cards, but it was not for lack of trying. He had spoken to her, on occasion, through her dreams. Every word he uttered had been dripping in derision, his attempts at gathering her support obvious. He had never truly cared for her, only what she might do for him.

Aphrodite ignored each of his messages, fearing what he would say, how he might manipulate her. It was not lost on her that he might have used her to achieve the same ends he did now, only hundreds of years ago. Would he have been able to convince her to free him, if she had ever given him a chance?

It frightened her to think about. And so, she was torn. But she was not the only one.

Zeus pointed out flaws in every argument. Nothing satisfied him, and Athena’s frustration became more apparent by the minute. Though Aphrodite could not blame him - she was in the same boat, after all - his indecision made their predicament very clear.

There was no good option.

“Hear me out,” Dionysus spoke through the din, voice cutting like a knife. They had spoken very little as the meeting went on, listening intently to each argument - or pretending to listen, as Aphrodite was fairly certain they were drunk. “We have three days to decide. Why don’t we conduct a little research before we make any life altering decisions?”

“That’s what I said…” Artemis muttered, louder than she probably thought she did. 

“These pillars,” Dionysus continued. “Let’s find them and see if they’re intact or not. At least, that way, we’ll know if Gaia was telling the truth about one thing.”

“The pillars aren’t real pillars .” Apollo informed them. “They’re like… energy points. Connecting the earth and the sky only in four places, so that Ouranos cannot drift, but he cannot descend either. We’re not going to see real cracks. We would need to sense the energy, and I don’t think anyone here is an expert.”

“It might be worth a look…” Dionysus shrugged. “Destroying power like that has got to leave some kind of mark.”

Aphrodite found herself nodding, turning back to Athena who stepped into the center of the room. “It’s worth investigating, I suppose. Perhaps we could disband for a few hours, send a search party, and reconvene with this new information.”

All eyes turned to Zeus. He tapped the armrest of his throne, expression unreadable. “Yes. We will meet again in four hours. Apollo, as you seem to understand these pillars better than some, pick a team to investigate, then rest.”

The council dispersed quickly. Tensions were high, made worse by how hard everyone had been working. Tired, fearful, cranky gods trying to discuss the fate of their world was a powderkeg if Aphrodite had ever seen one.

She approached Ares nervously, his good eye trained on the marble floor. Placing a hand against his arm, she opened her mouth to speak but was starkly interrupted.

“They would torture us all if they could,” He muttered. “And you want to side with them?”

Aphrodite’s lip wavered, but she bit down on it hard and steeled herself. Ares was a powerful man, and he struck fear into the heart’s of many. But not her. She would stand by her convictions, even if it earned his ire. “You do not know Ouranos, Ares. If there is even a chance he could rise…”

“A chance! A chance he could do something terrible, or a certainty that the giant’s will!” Ares cried. “The answer should be obvious!”

“Maybe it should be,” Aphrodite huffed. “But it isn’t. Not to me. I need time to think this through carefully, love. I’m sorry.”

Ares threw off her hand and stormed across the room, meeting his mother at the doorway. Of all of the Olympians, the giants had caused the most harm to mother and son. In this, they had been united. Hera’s disdain for Zeus’ indecision was obvious, but so far, the two had refrained from any real bickering. 

Aphrodite felt for them. She did, truly. But was acknowledgement of their pain worth risking the future?

It was not the sort of question Aphrodite wanted to answer on an empty stomach.

ZEUS.

“Father! Can we speak?”

“Now is not your opportunity to sway me, Athena.” Zeus continued walking down the steps of the council hall, towards Hestia who waited for him at the bottom. The words were harsh, and he regretted the intensity of them, but he meant what he said. Any argument she offered must be spoken before the council.

That was the argument he would make, at least.

But Athena was persistent. She hurried down the steps past him, whirling to halt him in his tracks. A scowl formed on his mouth, brows furrowing together.

“Athena…”

“Listen to me for one moment, father,” She insisted, her own expression a mirror of his own. Zeus normally admired her forwardness, her ability to push through uncomfortable conversations and deliver necessary truths. Right now, it only proved to aggravate him further. “What is stopping you from moving forward with this?”

“I want to ensure we make the correct decision-”

“Bullshit,” Athena hissed. The word caught him so off guard, the stormy facade dropped for a moment. “What’s the real reason?”

“I just told you-”

“The truth , father! I need to hear you say it. Why are you so reluctant to hear me out?”

Zeus folded his arms across his chest, and met Hestia’s worried gaze over Athena’s shoulder. Guilt replaced what anger he’d carried in his chest. His stomach churned with it, mouth growing incredibly dry. Leave it to Athena to see through every ruse, every lie, even when Zeus could not place it himself.

She spoke sense. His wife, his son - they spoke with emotion, the kind he could not fault them for, but deep in his heart he knew the truth. They had to take the threat of Ouranos’ return seriously, even if it proved itself a lie.

But he didn’t want to. Gods, he did not want to. Accepting that truth felt too much like trusting Gaia, and Zeus would never again put his faith in her.

“It seems to me you already know the reason,” Zeus whispered, meeting Athena’s intense gaze.

She deflated before him, and for the first time that day, he saw the exhaustion in her. Athena had fought hard to get them through this conflict, and done more for all of them than he had given her credit for. Her wisdom told her the same answer his did, and despite the strain of fighting for such a difficult cause, she had taken it upon herself. He did not deserve her loyalty.

“Father, I know you’re afraid,” Athena spoke in an equally quiet tone, so no passersby could hear. “I am afraid, too. But we cannot let fear bring us to ruin. You know that.”

Zeus nodded, almost imperceptibly. Admitting it felt like a knife to the heart. “Allow me a little bit of time to think on it, sweetheart. Please?”

That seemed to be enough for her. She sighed, placing a hand briefly upon his shoulder in acknowledgement before she turned away. He watched her go, down the steps and off towards her home, before he joined Hestia at last.

“Is everything alright?” She asked, gesturing to the path Athena had taken. “That seemed tense.”

“She is wise, Hestia, and that can be contentious,” Zeus said. He took hold of Hestia’s arm and wound his own through it, enjoying the contact and the support in the wake of such a tumultuous day.

“Tell me everything, Zeus,” Hestia murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. “Is Ouranos really planning something?”

“We do not know for certain, but… It would be foolish to assume he isn’t. Wouldn’t it?”

A silent plea for help, advice from one of the few others he trusted enough with this sort of decision. 

“If there is a chance that someone could hurt our family, you should act on it,” Hestia said slowly.

Zeus winced. “I suppose. But what if acting upon it makes us vulnerable to another enemy? An enemy who has already hurt us before?”

“You should honour those who have been hurt, then, and protect them from this vulnerability.”

Zeus groaned, raising his free hand to rub at his eyes. That was just it, wasn’t it? He could acknowledge that ignoring Ouranos was foolish, that heeding Gaia’s wisdom and strategy was paramount. But he could also acknowledge that he would be opening the doors to enemies who had tried to rape his wife, who had imprisoned his son, who had injured numerous family members in their plot to overthrow him.

It was too much.

“That was unhelpful,” Zeus muttered, guiding Hestia towards his own home. He needed some coffee, a shower, and a few moments of quiet.

“I cannot answer this for you,” Hestia said. “I know it is not an easy decision, but I have faith that you will find the answers you’re looking for.”

They fell into companionable silence, walking slowly down the path until they reached his home. The building towered over them, beautiful whites and blues lit up by the remnants of the sun. It was there Hestia stopped, releasing his arm.

“I will go to Hades,” She said gently, standing on her tiptoes to cup his cheek. “To keep him informed. He wants to help.”

Zeus nodded. “Good. Thank you, Hestia, for this and… for your advice.”

“I know it isn’t much, but I hope it helps.” She smiled, gave his cheek a pinch, and disappeared into brilliant white light. Zeus sighed, and pushed his way into his home, trudging up the stairs to his bedroom.

He opened the door, and found he was not alone. Hera sat at her vanity, tugging her hair out of its braid. Their eyes met in the mirror, and he tried for a smile. Hera returned it with a scowl.

“The man of the hour,” She said coldly. “I don’t suppose you’ve made a decision.”

Zeus moved to his closet, shrugging off his shirt. “No, I have not.”

Hera huffed, whirling in her chair to face him. “Why? How could you possibly trust Gaia after all she has done to us? To me? To you?”

He winced, and pulled his slacks off next. “I don’t trust her, Hera. I never will. But I want to do what is best for this family, and-”

“And that would include raising the giants? Raising Porphyrion? Do you remember what he wanted, Zeus? What he tried to do to me?”

Zeus threw his clothes to the ground, storming out of the closet. “I will never forget it, Hera. Do you really think I haven’t considered that? Do you think I want any of this? Do you think I would ever consider letting those monsters into our midst unless I was absolutely certain it was necessary?”

“So you have decided, then.” Hera replied, voice clipped. Her expression was murderous. “You will allow her to raise them.”

Zeus faltered. “I… I don’t know, Hera. I don’t want to.”

“But you will.”

“No! I don’t know. I want to consider other options before I decide.”

Hera rose from her seat, with a glare that tore into him, a thousand daggers ripping him open. “Of course. Then you will forgive me if I prepare myself for rape and ruin.”

She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. Zeus was frozen to the spot, hands shaking at his side. How could anyone else see this affair as black or white? Why did no one seem to share his concerns, his worries?

Could they face Ouranos on their own, perhaps? Or could they ensure that the giants were forced into submission, unable to cause any harm to Olympus?

There was so much to consider, but with a gaping hole in his chest, he did not know if he could.

By the time Zeus had showered, dressed again, and pumped himself full of caffeine, he felt more exhausted than ever. The coffee made him jittery, but the weight of the day hung heavy upon him like a storm cloud. He crept out onto the balcony for some fresh air, the sky now dark. It was fortunate that gods did not have to sleep, because with the limited time frame, late night council meetings would be a necessity. 

He stared out at Olympus, at the beautiful streets, so carefully crafted after millennia of life on the mount. Could he subject them all to their destruction? Could he even predict where that destruction would come from? Could he trust in someone like Gaia to guide him?

It terrified him. She had been the one to guide him to salvation in his youth, assisting him in overthrowing Cronus… But to do so, she had done unspeakable things to him, things he had not even realized were cruel until later in his life. 

And then, she had sent the giants the first time. Perhaps then he had deserved it, gone the way his own father had - but had his family deserved that? Of course not.

And there was Typhoeus. Poseidon had said that even at his most angry, he did not believe Zeus deserved what happened to him in that cave. Was that true? Or had his crimes really been so numerous, he deserved to be flayed and tortured?

Finally, she had possessed him. Overtaken him, the feeling so similar to nights in those caves that the thought made him weak in the knees. Uncommunicative and cruel, she would have made him raise the beings of their destruction without a say in the matter.

She could not be trusted. So why was he even considering this?

Her name was on his lips before he made sense of what he was asking.

“Gaia… I need to speak with you.”

The change came over the balcony rather abruptly. The distant sounds of the city disappeared, the nightly wind gone. He became aware of a presence lurking over his shoulder, but when he looked, there was no one there.

Regret filled him immediately, panic swelling in his chest. Had he really just invited her into his home? Had he called upon her willingly? Gods, his siblings would kill him for this. 

Zeus swallowed harshly, hands trembling violently. “Gaia?”

“I am here.”

“Why did you come to us with this?” Zeus asked, reaching for the balcony to brace himself.

“I told you. An alliance is our best chance at stopping Ouranos.”

“I did not think you trusted in us any longer.” His knees were shaking now.

“What makes you say that?”

Zeus blinked in surprise. “You raised the giants to overthrow me. Then Typhoeus. You have not since given us your favour.”

“Has anything come for you since?”

A pause, a sharp intake of breath. “I… suppose not.”

“Then you have your answer. I went into slumber knowing I could trust this world to be safe.”

His stomach churned violently, threatening to upend all the coffee he had consumed. His knuckles went white against the railing, breath coming in shorter and shorter intervals. What did she mean?

“Then why- why did you send the others? Why couldn’t you have just… just spoken to me?”

“That is not my way.”

Zeus could feel it growing closer. The panic, the hyperventilating, the sting of tears in his throat. He fought it off, as hard as he could. “That’s it? You seek to usurp me. You watch me tortured. You abuse me, and all you have to say for yourself is that is your way?”

“You lose yourself, Zeus. You think this is about you, and it is not.”

Zeus choked on a broken laugh. “My pain is not about me?”

“It is not. Everything I do is to see this world prevail. I know no loyalty but to the preservation of our bloodline. If my methods are cruel, it is only because this world is cruel.”

The sensation clawed its way up his throat, until he was gasping for breath, knees buckling. He collapsed to the ground, fingers sliding along the rails. His pain was impersonal. His pain was a blip to her, a necessity and nothing more. 

Was that comforting? Or did it make everything so much worse?

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Zeus sobbed. “If all our suffering is nothing to you, how do I trust?”

“Trust? Zeus, dear, this was never about trust. This is about wisdom - and courage. To do what is right for the good of all, not just yourself.”

Zeus hyperventilated, managing only to push out a single word. “Courage?”

“Yes. Have courage, Zeus. Do what is right for all of us.”

Life burst back onto the balcony. The wind returned, the noise came flooding in. The light of the moon seemed brighter.

Zeus tugged his knees to his chest and wept.

Chapter Text

POSEIDON.

Four hours disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

Poseidon met with Amphitrite in one of the many gardens of Olympus. She had been too nervous to go home, too anxious to leave him knowing what was at stake. The two of them had found solace beneath a massive oak, her head leaning against his chest as they waited out the hours together. He rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her, but he doubted it would be enough.

“Are we going to war?” She asked.

We , Poseidon thought mournfully. She would stay and fight by his side, if it came down to it. The idea was mortifying, but it was comforting too. Whatever happened, they were in this together.

“One way or another, I think it might be inevitable.” The words tasted like poison on his tongue. Trusting Gaia felt like a death sentence, Ouranos or not. But Zeus’ indecision… That could be just as dangerous. Uncertainty got people killed. Poseidon suspected he knew what was going through his brother’s head, felt for him even, but refusing to choose was not going to keep anyone safe.

Amphitrite tilted her head back to peer up at him, frowning. “We can survive this. We can survive anything.”

“We don’t even know what anything is.” 

“We’ll survive it anyway.”

Poseidon sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Amphitrite was usually such a realist; her optimism now was a rare gift. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

~

Poseidon had never seen a gathering of the council that came together so punctually. However, given the life-altering deadline fast approaching them, he figured everyone was on their best behaviour. No one dared to be the reason something went wrong.

He could also tell that no one had truly rested. Dark undereye circles, slouched postures, and a muted aura were enough to give that away - but the sheer number of coffee mugs he counted between them was disgusting. The sun was just starting to rise again, and they were already too far gone.

Hera and Zeus sat at the head, to Poseidon’s left. Neither of them would look at each other, and it did not take a genius to know why. Hera’s fury was palpable from where Poseidon sat, and though the signs were subtle, Zeus seemed off kilter, not quite himself. Stress? Or something more? Poseidon could not say.

Once all of the others had settled, Zeus rose to his feet and drew the attention before Athena could take over. Something switched in him immediately; the aura of unsurety, the lack of confidence, disappeared as all eyes turned to him. It was a gift, really.

“Any news, Apollo?” Zeus asked at once, effectively calling the meeting to order. No pulling any punches, then.

The younger god bobbed his head. “There is some evidence of tampering.”

“How so?” Athena asked breathlessly, stiff as a statue in her seat.

Apollo glanced nervously towards his twin sister, who refused to meet his gaze. Another spat? How many more of those would there be before the day was over? “Scorch marks. The entire area feels like those couple moments before lightning strikes. Nothing has broken entirely, as far as I can tell - which is not well , I would like to add - but it’s clear something has been going on there. To what effect, I can’t say.”

Zeus nodded like he had expected this, and Poseidon’s stomach lurched in expectation. “Thank you, Apollo. The evidence before us is clear. Gaia is attempting to raise the giants. She was willing to do this independently, manipulating all of us to her whims. It seems she has now changed her mind, and can no longer rely on possession and other manipulative tactics to achieve her ends. Many of us do not trust her intentions, on account of this recent development and our history with said creatures. But it is also clear that this threat - Ouranos - is not something to be taken lightly. He has likely attempted to release himself from his bonds. His motives are somewhat unclear, but his actions are not. We must be prepared for the worst.”

“The question that remains is whether or not to allow Gaia to continue with her plan,” Hera added, jaw wound tight. “I would say it is not.”

“This is assuming she won’t just do it anyway,” Hephaestus said gruffly. “If Ouranos does come for us, are we willin’ to fight a battle on two fronts?”

“Who’s to say that won’t happen anyway?” Ares asked. “We let Gaia raise them all, then they turn on us and Ouranos too. It’s a gamble either way. At least our way, we can prevent her from raising them all before the fighting starts.”

“Gaia will not turn on us,” Zeus spoke firmly. Where had this confidence come from? “Not until Ouranos is dealt with, at least. She fears him, and knows she may not win without our assistance.”

“We could attempt to make a deal,” Athena suggested. “A vow. To ensure a peaceful arrangement between us and the giants when the fighting comes to an end.”

“And you think she would agree to that?” Demeter asked incredulously. “Gaia has made plenty of vows, and they mean nothing.”

“Well, we have to do something!” Artemis cried.

“I agree,” Zeus said stoically. “And I believe we must move forward in this alliance with Gaia.”

A surge of outbursts raged forth like the tide in a storm. Angry voices cried out in disbelief. Others rushed to defend Zeus’ decision. Poseidon’s own voice joined the din, so stunned by the declaration that he could not even make sense of what he shouted.

A thousand phrases echoed in the hall. How could Zeus do this? What had Gaia done to earn his trust? Was he possessed? Traitor, backstabber, saviour, leader, fool, sage - all words, all questions, thrown back and forth in the chaos. There was rage and vindication in the air, confusion and betrayal. Fear, too. So much fear it clogged the senses, suffocating and suppressive. Each of them was terrified at the implications.

Zeus sank back into his seat, powerful and stern expression gone, replaced by devastation. He had done this. His opinion had caused this collapse. Poseidon wanted to wring his neck, and he wanted to comfort him too. It was wrong, all of it wrong, the panic and the terror and the confusion. The noise only grew louder.

A crack like thunder echoed in the air, though it did not come from Zeus. Silence swallowed the stunned crowd of twelve, searching for the source of the noise.

“It’s too late. There is no more time. He is here.”

Gaia’s voice, like the grinding of stones and whisper of wind, resonated across the marble hall. The hairs on the back of Poseidon’s neck stood tall.

In the distance, bells began to chime. Not signal bells, tolling the time of day. Warning bells.

Enemies approaching.

DEMETER.

The sky split apart.

From the terrace of the Olympian council hall, twelve of the most powerful gods and goddesses in the world watched the world begin its end.

For surely that’s what this had to be. Eight massive beings poured from the fissure, soaring through the sky on white, leathery wings. They were the size of football fields, serpentine in nature, save for the feathered heads. Even from this distance, watching the creatures pour across the open expanse before the mountain, Demeter could see the details. Hundreds of beady eyes, shining pure gold, emerged from the feathered expanse of face. No mouth, only eyes, ever watching.

The creatures would have been beautiful, their scales iridescent and shining, were it not for the abject horror of knowing they were likely deadly. Creatures no one had seen before, creatures whose powers and limitations were unknown to all. Creatures who gathered on the distant plain before Olympus, their landings thunderous enough to shake the mountain itself. Those hundreds of eyes watched them, eager, hungry.

A cold sweat grew on Demeter’s forehead. Her knees trembled.

“What do we do?” Hermes whispered, eyes wide with terror.

“We have little time left,” Gaia spoke, the urgency in her voice tangible in the tremors beneath their feet. “We must raise the most powerful of my sons. Their strength will help us turn the tide. Are you with me?”

No one objected. Not even Hera, who stared out at the plains, unmoving.

“Swear to me your sons will do us no harm,” Zeus pleaded, voice strained with anguish. Demeter managed to tear her gaze away from the amassing creatures, who seemed content to remain where they were for the time being. Waiting for the right time to strike? Or for reinforcements? Her gaze instead fell on her brother, his frame shaking.

“So long as the leaders of this mountain seek to serve the greater good, my sons will not harm you.”

“Loopholes, father…” Athena whispered, her warning half-hearted. She too was frozen in shock at the monsters before them.

“I know…” Zeus murmured back. “We have no choice. Gaia, you must swear it.”

“There is no time-”

“Swear it!” Zeus cried. “Swear it, and we will help you.”

“I swear it upon all that is good, upon the most holy places of this earth, and upon the River Styx.”

That was enough. Zeus snapped into action, rushing through his family. The flurry of motion drew them out of their terror, and some had the decency to summon weapons. Shimmers of gold, flashes of light. Armour rippled into existence upon her family, some bronze, some leather, some shining gold. Zeus himself wore a beautifully crafted breastplate, and held his lightning bolt in his hand. He stood at the edge of the terrace, back to the creatures, and addressed his family with his bolt held high.

“I know you’re afraid, but we can do this,” He began, expression as hard and confident as ever. All signs of his own fear were gone. Demeter almost felt brave. “Those of us Gaia needs for the giants will do as she commands. Now is not the time for backlash.”

“I need those with power to join me. You, Zeus. Your son, Apollo. My grandchildren, Demeter and Poseidon. You will have to do.”

Her? Demeter knew she was powerful, but what good could she do in resurrecting a giant? She summoned her sickle to hand, and held it like a lifeline. For all she knew, it would be.

Zeus nodded once, resigning himself to this fate. “Hermes, you will send for our allies beyond Olympus and bring them here. We need all the manpower we can get. Dionysus, take Aphrodite and rouse the rest of Olympus, prepare them for battle. Artemis, take Hephaestus and scout as close as you dare. Lay traps, any you think may work to slow these creatures. Hera-”

Hera stepped forward, dark leather armour across her chest, with arrows slung over her back, dagger at her hip, and bow in hand. “I will take Athena and Ares to rally our forces while you raise our new allies.”

For the briefest of moments, the relief in Zeus was tangible, like the release of electric current. It disappeared just as quickly.

“Good.” Zeus nodded again. “You have your orders. I have utmost faith in each of you to see them done. Thank you all for your courage to do what is right. Now go.”

Demeter hurried to Zeus’ side, joined by Poseidon and Apollo. There was once a time in her life where Demeter had longed for Gaia’s attention. She thought she’d wanted what Zeus had, that connection to the earth that Demeter had felt in her bones. How many times had she wandered into the forest, in hopes that Gaia saw her, that Gaia spoke to her? She knew now how foolish that had been.

And now that she had her grandmother’s attention, Demeter did not know how to feel.

“We must hurry,” Gaia hummed. “To Nisyros.”

The ground shifted beneath Demeter’s feet, the view of Olympus and the gathering monsters disappearing in a haze of green. A blink, and before her stood a mound of rock, the distant sounds of the ocean behind her. 

Poseidon stumbled, scowling in disapproval. “We’re starting with this one?”

“Polybotes is strong, and a good leader. We will need him. Quickly, Poseidon, take the scepter.”

“Where-” Poseidon began, but before he could finish the question, the scepter formed out of the earth and hovered before him. Demeter almost laughed at the irony - all of their searching, hoping they could find where Gaia had hidden it or what it could do had been for nothing. 

Poseidon took a nervous step forward, grasping the scepter in his hands. “For the record, I think this is a horrible idea.”

“It doesn’t matter. Grasp the scepter tight, and place it in the earth, here.”

Poseidon shuffled forward, digging the tip of the scepter into the top of the mound of rocks. Demeter risked a glance at Zeus, whose expression was unreadable. Apollo shifted uncomfortably at her side. She was grateful to be away from Olympus, and terrified at the same time. Everyone they had ever loved was still on that mountain, awaiting certain doom.

They needed to move faster.

“You must pour your power into that scepter. Channel it. It will do the work for you.”

“My power?” Poseidon asked in surprise, but he assumed the position regardless. The sea god closed his eyes, expression a mask of concentration. The ocean behind them began to swirl. The ground shook. White light emerged from Poseidon’s hands, which the scepter drank hungrily. Sweat beaded on Poseidon’s brow, and for half a moment, his eyes opened in a panic as his knees gave out.

The ground trembled and groaned - and then, it split open. A massive hand emerged from the pit, clawing its way out.

Poseidon collapsed, unconscious.

PERSEPHONE.

“What have you heard?”

Persephone lingered in the doorway to her husband’s office, fingers tapping nervously against the frame. He had only just returned from the edge of Tartarus, ensuring their security was tight after a visit from Hestia… Just in case. But he looked exhausted, and Persephone suspected that was going to be the norm for some time.

Their children had been insistent, wanting to help in any way they could, but the thought of any of them venturing somewhere dangerous… It made Persephone’s stomach churn. They had just gotten Zagreus back, and she wouldn’t put him in harm’s way again. Not so soon, or ever, if it could be avoided.

Hades glanced up at her wearily, brushing a loose curl from his face. “They are still deciding what to do about Gaia. Hestia said they suspect war is coming regardless, but we are all so blind to what it may be.”

Persephone bit her lip, worry building in her belly. “A few thousand years was too long without trouble, I suppose.”

Hades did not seem to find that very funny, but he never had a chance to retaliate. Andreas, the leader of their guard, emerged from the wall with a purple glow.

“Sir, Hermes is approaching, and rather quickly.”

Hades’ gaze snapped to meet hers, before the two of them raced out of the office and into the large foyer. Hermes burst through the doors a few moments later, his chest heaving.

“Ouranos - here - big monsters - need help -” He gasped out, hands on his knees. 

“It’s happening then?” Hades asked, reaching for Persephone’s hand. She grasped it firmly, and his trembling matched her own.

Hermes nodded weakly. He looked ready to faint. “Yes. Zeus went with Gaia to raise the giants. These creatures - Hades, we’ve never seen anything like this. We don’t know what they can do or how to kill them, but they’re gathering around Olympus. Are you… Are you with us?”

Hades was silent for a moment. Persephone sought his face, heart thundering in her chest.

“Yes.”

Terror flooded her veins. She knew he would - he could not sit back while his family was in peril. But it terrified her to think of him alone out there.

And so he would not be alone.

“I’ll go, too.” She breathed. Hades’ head snapped towards her, anger blossoming on his face. “I can help, and I can heal. I suspect we’ll need some of that today.”

“Persephone,” Hades warned. “Please, reconsider.”

“No.” She said immediately. “I’m coming. Hermes, take my hand, would you? Let’s take the fast way back to Olympus.”

ARTEMIS.

Every step they took drew them closer to the monsters.

They had yet to attack, which was more unsettling than if Artemis had watched them descend upon the city. They sat in a half circle, their serpentine bodies coiled against the rocky plain. They seemed to be watching, though what they were waiting for, Artemis could not say.

She and Hephaestus had raided his workshop, gathering all sorts of traps to lay on the outskirts of the city. Hephaestus doubted his items would be strong enough to do the trick, but any advantage they could gain was worth the effort.

Explosive trip wires, massive bombs, flying machines with whirling blades attached - all of it was strewn about the outer limits. Some of the devices oozed gas, or unleashed hordes of miniature spiders that devoured flesh. Hephaestus assured her that they would only detonate if he said so, but the thought still made her skin crawl.

“Set those here,” Hephaestus commanded, painstakingly hoisting himself onto the outer wall to drop some of their traps on the other side. Artemis handed him more from their massive bag, and he began the work of arming and preparing them.

Artemis surveyed the creatures in the distance. Nothing more emerged from the fissure in the sky, but their silence and lack of movement was unsettling. What did they want? What were they waiting for?

“The next one, Artemis. Now!” Hephaestus held out his hand, and Artemis placed the next trap in his palm. As Hephaestus set it to blow, a horrible, ear-piercing shriek echoed across the plains. It made her hearing aid go haywire, and Artemis collapsed to her knees in pain. Hephaestus wobbled dangerously on the wall before he caught himself, grimacing.

The shrieking faded. Artemis peered over the edge of the wall in terror.

The sky went black, drowning Olympus in darkness. And then, the rain began to fall. But where Artemis expected to find water, soaking through her clothes and drenching the city in minutes, there was none.

It was blood.

Chapter Text

HERA.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur.

It was a stark realization that Hera was used to this. Good at it, even. She stormed through Olympus, gathering those most capable in a fight, and leading them to the edge of the city. She spoke with tired godlings and old veterans, calming their nerves. She explained what was happening, her voice booming across the battlements. She gave orders and saw them executed, organized her subjects into lines, and brainstormed a plan with Athena.

It felt automatic. Hera did not have a chance to stop and consider, but it turned out she did not need to. It all came so naturally to her.

The plan was fairly simple. With creatures that could fly, regular formations were meaningless. Bombarding the creatures with all kinds of weaponry and firepower that could reach them from the ground was paramount - arrows, lightning, fire, aimed at the wings. All of it would be used to ground the creatures, so that less mobile forces could swoop in and strike them down. They would use swarming tactics to overwhelm the beasts. 

With Hephaestus’ traps to slow any downed creatures, it could work. Assuming the scales were penetrable, the creatures did not have any immobilizing capabilities, and nothing else was coming for them… It was a lot of ifs. Ideally, they would summon the chariots and use those to fly in close, but she did not know if there was time for that. Hera loathed uncertainty, but she could work with it. There was a chance, if Zeus could return quickly enough with the others. She just had to remain calm.

And then the sky rained blood.

In minutes, she was drenched with far worse than water. Sticky redness coated everything, making it difficult to grip her bow, difficult to walk without slipping. The sky darkened, and blood fell in a blinding torrent. Hera could no longer see out onto the plain, could hardly see ten feet in front of her. Her allies looked like the victims of massacres, drenched in horrid blood from head to toe. Confidence waned. Fear rippled through the crowd of soldiers in waves.

Another horrible screech echoed in the air - and then the sound of wings beating, massive ones. The creatures taking flight.

Chaos erupted in seconds. A massive, white-scaled creature soared overhead, batting aside half a dozen nymphs with a single swipe of its draconic tail. Screams echoed against the open air. Archers fired, but only a few managed to pierce between scales, the rest bouncing harmlessly off of the exterior. Roots erupted from the ground, a handful of dryads retaliating in anguish. Bursts of bright colours emerged from the crowd, magic and power catapulted against the enemy.

It did nothing. The creature soared away, into the darkness and blood, before a second replaced it. 

Hera ducked for cover, shoved by Athena to safety. The younger goddess did not look to see if she had made it, racing across the battlements to regroup the archers. Hera pressed herself a stone wall, took a breath, and tried to ignore the taste of blood as it spilled over her lips. She pulled an arrow from its quiver, ducked back around the wall, and took aim. 

Her arrows always found their target, and as the second creature loomed back into view, Hera unleashed. She struck the beast in one of its golden eyes. The roar of pain, like a screech and a hiss in tandem, was deafening. 

Not dead, but agitated. It could feel pain. Enough arrows in its face, and the creature could be incapacitated.

No, Hera thought desperately. We need to stick to the plan. We need to ground it.

“Ares!” Hera cried, searching for her son in the chaos. There, a glint of his golden helmet. She hurried across the battlements, bow still in hand. “We need to spear the wings! Bring it down!”

She could not be sure if he heard her. There was too much noise, too many screams, too many shouted orders. Kratos and Bia rushed past her, swooping into the air with spears in hands, their wings carrying them where others could not go. Deimos and Phobos, the twin sons of Ares, were showered in darkness, trying to strike fear into their enemies. If it worked, Hera had no way of knowing.

A line of spears flew into the air, and Hera traced them until they disappeared into the dark. Ares. He had heard her command, or at least, knew well enough what action to take. One of the creatures flew into view, its wings peppered with spears. It roared, and dove, spiralling out of control. It was working. Yes, it was working! A few more spears, and-

The creature’s tail whipped out with massive force, knocking aside some of the spearmen. Horror filled Hera, somehow knowing what was going to happen before it did. The tail curled, trapping its victim in a vice grip as it tumbled over the far side of the battlements. Crashing down the mountainside.

Wrapped in a scaled tail, Ares went soaring with it.

DIONYSUS.

Olympus was huge, and the sheer number of homes to evacuate was extensive.

They raced through the streets, crying out to all who could hear to fight or flee. Aphrodite kept pace with them, banging on doors, sending young godlings up towards the palace for protection or stronger fighters to join the rest of them near the plains. This was not the first time Olympus had dealt with enemies on their doorstep, and those old enough to remember responded efficiently. Some joined in their task, ushering others towards the palace. It was the young ones, spoiled by millennia of peace, who did not seem to know what to do.

The blood rain and the darkness made things a lot more difficult, adding to the confusion and fear. But they pressed on, pushing through throngs of city dwellers to reach more. The two of them had a task to achieve, and fear of what those creatures could do if they slowed down was greater than the fear of facing this problem head on.

Dionysus had never been much of a fighter - capable of it, certainly. They had utilized what skills they did have on several occasions. But this was something else entirely. This was madness, and not the kind they knew intimately. 

They rounded a corner and slipped in the blood. Dionysus would have crash landed on their face if Aphrodite had not caught their arm. She kept them aloft, her grip too tight and shaking.

“Thanks,” Dionysus stuttered out, righting their footing. They could barely make out her face through the blood, the way it soaked through her dark curls, coated her brown skin, made her entire body a mess of deep crimson - but they thought they saw a hint of a smile.

“We have to keep moving,” Aphrodite whispered. “We still have to get to the lower district, and then we should join the others on the-”

Another one of those massive, ear-piercing shrieks boomed above their heads. Dionysus barely had time to react before a creature swooped into view, tail swiping through the street. It collided with the buildings around them, sending rubble cascading into the blood soaked street. Nearby, civilians screamed.

A hole opened beneath the creature's many eyes, revealing hidden rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth. Teeth that were headed straight towards them.

Acting on instinct alone, Dionysus threw their weight into Aphrodite, and the two of them tumbled into the open doorway of the nearest home. Seconds later, the stone collapsed around them.

HEPHAESTUS.

The traps were set, but Hephaestus did not know if they would help. They certainly were not going to be enough. He pressed a series of buttons, and unleashed a horde of whirring machines, their blades carrying them off into the distance to deliver chaotic damage. He could not see through the rain, his eyes filling with red. He spat the metallic liquid out of his mouth, listening intently for the sound of success.

A few moments, and then panicked, animalistic screeching filled the air. One of the creatures ducked into view, its iridescent scales shining through the darkness. Something silver slid down its back, wet and viscous.

The creatures could bleed. And Hephaestus had managed to pierce its scales. He could work with that.

“Are you alright?” Hephaestus signed, turning back to Artemis. He had been the one to manufacture her hearing aids, and had even ensured they would be relatively waterproof. But with the high frequency noises and the torrential downpour of blood, they were basically shot. 

“Fine. Let’s set off a few more of those traps, shall we?” She drew an arrow from her quiver - the explosive kind, another one of his inventions, and nocked it.

“We’ll set up from the west now.” He signed back, before gathering up his equipment. Everything was soaked and stained with blood, but should have been mostly functional. He had one that would unload a swell of lava upon the field, and he wanted that better positioned to protect the others.

Artemis led the way through the streets, which had quickly vacated any persons not joining the fight. His progress was slower, damn his bad leg, but he did not have to tell Artemis to wait for him. They kept pace, and Hephaestus dispersed a few traps as they went. By the time they reached the western wall, he had only a few traps left, ones he had been saving for a moment most dire.

They were too late. A few nymphs, young river-gods, Nike, and Zelos attempted to hold the wall. But three of the creatures converged before it, hovering in the air. They bared rows of horrifying teeth, their dozens of eyes shining gold, focused on their target. The civilians.

There was only one thing left to do. It wasn’t ideal, but someone had to do something.

Hephaestus pulled a canister from his bag, clicked a button on the side, and launched the container as far as he could. It landed on the edge of the wall, feet from the creatures now perched on the marble columns. 

It exploded into lava, rolling over the side of the wall, dousing the creature's reptilian feet in pure molten rock. They screeched in agony and took to the skies, trailing lava that dripped across the plain and set aflame a dozen crops.

He could apologize for that later. Those monsters weren’t dead yet.

APOLLO.

“Poseidon!” Demeter cried, rushing to his side. She tugged the sea god into her arms, trying to shake him, checking for a pulse - the sort of thing one didn’t need to do when you were a god, but under the circumstances, Apollo could not blame her. He would have done the same.

“Apollo, help him! Now.” Zeus barked. His eyes were wide, openly terrified. “Gaia! What is this?”

Apollo joined Demeter at Poseidon’s side, checking him for any obvious signs of distress. Poseidon began to stir as he approached, eyelids fluttering. A groan left his lips, weak and exhausted. He was alive, at least.

“This is why your son is here. The amount of power this will take is great - they will need healing to see this through.”

“You lied to me!” Zeus hissed, crouching next to the other three. “This ends-”

“This does not end. Your family is already crumbling under the weight of this assault. We must hurry - Apollo, restore his strength.”

Easier said than done, but Apollo did not want to voice that aloud. He placed his hands over Poseidon’s chest, hummed a song in their ancient language, and watched in relief as a warm yellow glow washed over the sea god. His eyes opened fully, sucking in a much needed deep breath. His hands twitched, and the scepter tumbled from his grasp.

“Fuck…” Poseidon groaned. “My head is pounding.”

“It won’t for long,” Apollo attempted to assure him. “Try to breathe.”

A large crack filled the quiet. Polybotes emerged from the earth, eyes bleary, his giant, brutish face five times the size of any of theirs. He clawed himself free, and regarded the rest of them as though he had expected this. Not angry or vengeful, merely curious. Tired, even.

Zeus rose back to his feet, swallowing. “Gaia-”

“I made you a promise. Polybotes, my son, you know what must be done. Ouranos wants his vengeance. We must stop him.”

“Yes, mother.” Polybotes said slowly, his voice deep and sluggish. His gaze drifted to Poseidon, and narrowed. “With the godlings?”

“Yes. With them.”

“...Alright.”

“Good. Now, get Poseidon up. We must move to the next one - Demeter, it will be your turn to take the scepter. Pour everything you have into their health, Apollo.”

He was trying. Poseidon did seem better, more invigorated, but Apollo feared what would happen if he had to try again. A moment later, and the ground shifted beneath them. Gone was the island of Nisyros, on to the next burial site.

Apollo hoped his own strength did not wane.

HESTIA.

Hestia raced from the palace, past streams of her friends, family, and civilians rushing towards it. She did not stop to comfort them, to help them. All she could do was run. Her family needed her. She needed to get to them and assist. The blood that fell from the sky was blinding, suffocating, the kind of unnatural horror that should have turned her towards the safety of being indoors. But still, she ran, feet slipping and splashing through puddles of red.

In a street, covered by a blue awning, Hestia found the first signs of battle. A number of soldiers, dryads and gods alike, were laid down the stone, tended to by healers. Asclepius led them, the son of Apollo barking orders and administering aid as quickly as he could. Hestia’s heart told her to move on, to reach Hera or the others, but her gut said this was where she was needed first.

Hurrying to Asclepius’ side, she rolled up her sleeves and met his gaze with a hard one of her own.

“What are your orders?” Hestia demanded.

Asclepius turned to her, surprised, but quickly nodded as he realized who had spoken. “There are still wounded on the battlements. I need them brought here to be seen to. Take this ambrosia for those who are wounded but can still fight, then help Eros bring the most injured here.”

Hestia nodded, snatched up the bottle of ambrosia, and hurried after Eros down the twisting streets. The sounds of fighting were not far, but through the blood it was impossible to make sense of anything.

Rounding a corner gave her a full view of the chaos unfolding on Olympus.

Dozens of archers tried desperately to down three of the beasts, who swooped and batted them away like flies. Hera and Athena fought desperately to rally their efforts, launching spears. River gods diverted nearby water in attempt to corral the creatures, but it was not working.

In the distance, Hestia saw fire. No, lava, creeping across the plain, the light breaking through the haze of the rain. Screams echoed against the sky, roars of beasts, the sound of explosions. It was pandemonium.

A single noise cut through the din, echoing across Olympus. A voice, booming as loud as thunder, deep as the pits of Tartarus, as regal as it was cruel.

“Perish, godlings. I will create this world anew and restore my reign. I look forward to crushing you like insects.”

The sky itself sought their destruction.

Ouranos was here.

Chapter Text

APHRODITE.

Everything hurt.

It was hard to tell what the extent of the damage was, buried under the weight of so much rubble. Aphrodite did not think anything was broken, but then, that might have been the shock talking. She struggled to move, attempting to wriggle free of the shattered chunks of stone covering her. The dust was unbearable, somehow worse than the blood rain that trickled in overhead. She could see some light - that was a good sign, at least. But her legs were pinned, and every part of her felt like she had been caught at the front of a herd of stampeding horses.

She groaned, gave the rubble another shove, and flopped back hopelessly. There was no way in hell she could move that on her own. If she could get Dionysus to help… Dionysus… Where were they? 

Scanning through the haze of dust and blood and darkness, Aphrodite found them. They were below her, pinned on their stomach by a chunk of ceiling. Had the floor given out? Had they fallen into open air? Aphrodite struggled to wrap her head around the arrangement, but had little time to make sense of it. Another realization washed over her instead. Dionysus wasn’t moving.

Teleporting out was an option, but doing so would risk more rubble collapsing on top of a potentially unconscious and injured Dionysus. If Aphrodite wanted out safely, she had to get to Dionysus first.

“Di?” She called out, choking on the dust in the air. “Di, can you hear me?”

A weak, pathetic groan emerged from the rubble. No words, but sounds of consciousness were good enough for her. That didn’t change their predicament, though. Aphrodite tried not to let panic take over, sucking in a few rasping breaths to keep calm. She could handle this. They were going to be okay.

“Can you reach my hand?” Aphrodite stretched her hand out, and could almost touch the top of their head if she strained. “If you grab my hand, I can get us out of here.”

No movement. Another weak moan of pain. Still no words.

This was really not good.

“Di, please!” She cried, stretching further. The movement was excruciating, her trapped legs screaming at her in agony, and even that wasn’t enough to reach them. “I need you to work with me here.”

Her efforts were cut short.

“Tremble before me. Your mountain will crumble. Your lives are meaningless. The reign of gods has ended.”

That same voice, that thunderous, hair-raising voice, boomed overhead. The rubble shook with the strength of it, loud and unimaginably powerful. Aphrodite froze, blood running cold. A shudder ran down her spine. That voice had entered her dreams and plagued her nightmares. Ouranos may have been chained, but few would ever hold the power he possessed. Several thousand years were nothing to him - how long had he been waiting for this moment? How quickly could he bring about their destruction if this progressed?

Renewed with panic, Aphrodite reached for Dionysus again, fighting through the agony. Her fingers were mere centimeters from their head, so close she could almost feel their warmth. A little further, just a little further…

Aphrodite collapsed again, a sob of pain bursting from her mouth. Her legs ached. Her body trembled with exhaustion and fear. Somewhere outside their pile of rubble, the other gods fought furiously for the safety of Olympus. Her husband, her children, all of them fighting. She had no way of knowing if they were safe, if they were succeeding, or if Ouranos was decimating them all. Not if she was stuck in here. The realization struck her like a freight train, and panic doubled in her chest.

Would she abandon Dionysus to their fate for the sake of her family?

“Dionysus, come on!” She cried, giving one final push, one desperate attempt to free them both. Something in her leg stretched and snapped, a stab of unbearable pain shooting up from her calf. Her fingers made contact with the top of Dionysus’ head, the same moment a voice echoed out from above.

“You guys need some help down there?”

HERMES.

Hermes had never seen Olympus in so much disarray.

Not that it was easy to see. The sudden emergence from the Underworld was not to Olympus as he had left it, but instead to a blood-soaked terrain with terrible crimson still falling from the sky. Bright lights flickered across the grounds now and then. Buildings were in shambles on the outer walls. Those massive creatures flew in and out of view in the darkness, their size making Hermes’ knees tremble.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Others would arrive to help, if they had not already. Sea-dwellers whom he’d managed to send word to before descending into the Underworld. Others too, others who did not frequent Olympus but would hopefully come to defend it. Gods, Hermes hoped he’d done enough. But then, what if they were doomed to fail anyway? What if he was condemning more of their kind to ruin?

Hades stepped up beside him, daggers materializing at his hip. In his hand he held a shining black crown - his helm of darkness, capable of making him invisible. Persephone stood at his flank, her hair already drenched with blood.

“What do you know?” He demanded.

“Hera took Athena and Ares to the temple district. That’s where a bulk of our forces are, but I-I don’t know much else,” Hermes confessed, swallowing hard. His mouth tasted like blood.

“Then we will make our way there, and help those we can.” Hades said resolutely. “Persephone, if you can find healers-”

“I’ll join them, love, I promise.” Persephone managed a weak smile, one that looked terrifying marred by so much crimson. “And if I cannot, then I’ll start doing it myself. I’ll stay out of the fighting.”

That seemed to satisfy Hades, who breathed a sigh of relief. “Hermes, you should take to the streets and see who needs your assistance.”

“Yes, sir,” Hermes whispered, a simple sidesword at his waist. It wasn’t much - he had never been much of a fighter - but it would protect him. “Be safe.”

Hermes only saw Hades slide the helm on, shimmering out of sight, before he was gone. He took off through the streets at an impossibly fast sprint, darting between homes, around shrubbery, through the narrow and cobbled streets of Olympus in search of trouble. Some cowered in their doorways, others pointed him in the direction of those in need. Somewhere in the distance, he heard screaming. The smell of smoke began to cut through the pungent odour of blood.

He came to a screeching halt around a corner, horrified to find an entire section of apartments crumbled to rubble. A single dryad stood near the demolished stone, waving her hands frantically as she caught sight of him.

“They’re trapped in there!” The dryad cried, clawing away small pieces of stone with her hands. “I can’t get to them by myself!”

“Who is it?” Hermes demanded, scanning the sky for one of those creatures. Seeing none, he began to pull away the stone, faster than the dryad ever could have. His muscles ached, but now was hardly the time to complain.

“Aphrodite, I think. And someone else. It was hard to see. That monster just came in so fast-”

“You were brave to stay and help,” Hermes said automatically, tugging away a large stone to reveal a crack in the rubble. It was hard to see in the dark, but Hermes thought he detected movement. “You guys need help down there?”

“Hermes?” That was Aphrodite alright, though she sounded like she was in a lot of pain. Hermes began tugging stone faster. “Di is down here too, they’re unconscious. I think I can get us out of here, but I need you on standby if this doesn’t work.”

“Roger that,” Hermes called down, scrambling out of the pit he had dug. A groan of pain emerged from the darkness, followed by a brilliant flash of light. The next moment, Aphrodite and Dionysus appeared on the pathway several meters away, the former cradling a mangled leg, the latter unconscious.

“Gods, that hurts,” Aphrodite whimpered. Her leg did not look broken, though Hermes was hardly an expert. But it was banged up something fierce, dripping ichor steadily, already beginning to bruise. “They aren’t waking up.”

“Did Di hit their head?” Hermes asked, crouching beside the both of them. The wine god stirred a little, eyelids fluttering, but true consciousness seemed to elude them.

“That’s my guess,” Aphrodite panted out. “Those… those things, Hermes. They’re awful. We’ve killed crazy things in our time, but these…”

“Glad for the confidence, ‘Dite.” Hermes muttered, examining Dionysus’ head for a wound, though with the rain pouring down around them, it was almost impossible to tell what was red or darkened gold. “Come on, we have to-”

A blood curdling screech ripped through the air like a missile. Hermes ducked instinctively, and felt the swipe of claws miss his head by an inch. The sky went black for a terrifying moment, what light remained blotted out by the beast, before the iridescent scales above them flew off into the sky.

The creature did a one-eighty in the air, swivelling towards them. Its hidden jaw unhinged itself to reveal dozens of razor-sharp teeth.

It dove straight for them.

HADES.

Hades parted with Persephone near the markets. 

She followed the sound of his voice so as not to lose his invisible form. The two of them raced through the streets, slipping in the puddles of blood, struggling to breathe through the weight of all that fell from the sky. Hades had never seen something so horrific, never felt what it was to be drenched in blood so thick, his boots squelched with each step. It was comforting to have Persephone at his side, here at the end of all things.

However, at the behest of a river-god racing for reinforcements, she was redirected towards a triage station Asclepius established. It was hard to watch her go, that brief moment of comfort flickering into despair, but Hades had a different job to do. One that Persephone could not help him with.

He wanted to climb onto the roofs, get close to one of those creatures, and split its belly open.

That would require a lot of finesse and technical skill he was not sure he still possessed. He was a little out of practice, if he was being honest. But with his helm, he had a distinct advantage over these creatures. They could cause massive destruction with a single swipe of their tail; but they could not see him coming. If he got close enough, Hades was certain he could deal some damage, and maybe even turn the tide.

It was wishful, near arrogant thinking. But he had to try.

Rounding a corner between homes, he found a taller set of apartments with a stairwell on the exterior. Hades took the stairs two at a time, emerging onto the roof soaked with blood and gasping for every breath. Squinting through the dim light, Hades could make out one of the beasts in the distance, flying low over the buildings in search of targets.

He had to be stupid.

Hades took the hilt of his blades and banged them against some metal pipes, the resounding clang echoing over the city. He did it over and over, the sound growing louder, his arms vibrating with every strike. Come on, come on…

Sure enough, within a minute, one of the creatures swooped out of the sky and soared towards the noise, baring a hidden set of teeth. Hades tucked into a roll, laying himself flat against the roof to avoid being decimated. The woosh of air overhead was a little too close for comfort, but he rolled onto his back and drove his daggers upwards. The left blade ricocheted off the scales, his arm aching at the impact. But the right hand drove its blade between a sliver of a gap amidst the scales, piercing spongy flesh beneath. A roar erupted overhead.

Hades had to scramble out of the way of a thrashing tail, narrowly dodging a violent impact as the monster soared back into the sky, screeching in pain.

Not dead, but getting somewhere. If he could just manage that a few more times…

Hades hopped back to his feet, and got to work.

ATHENA.

“Spears ready! Strike true!” 

Athena’s voice carried weight, thundering across the battlements. She held her own spear aloft, trying to remain confident in the wake of so much destruction. There were only a few spearmen left, those still standing after a barrage of attacks from the monsters. But they remained firm, ready to strike.

They had a chance to prove themselves soon enough. A monster swooped, tail swinging in a new pattern, zig-zagging wildly. The creatures were growing more bold, more desperate, wanting to bring down the gods as quickly as possible. There would be no chance to learn their patterns, and with the way things were going, the gods did not have long.

“Now!” Athena cried. A dozen spears stabbed upwards, some piercing the underbelly of the beast, others bouncing off the scales. The line scattered quickly as the tail came into range, batting them around like flies.

Athena ducked behind the wall, wincing when the beast’s claws missed her by inches. As the creature flew off again into the distance, a lone figure raced across the battlements, brandishing a bow.

“Hera, no!” Athena cried, lurching forward. She would not have Hera making herself a target. Capable as the queen was, this was not the opportunity for brash acts of bravery. But where she expected the queen to do something stupid and reckless, instead Hera only raced for the walls and peered over the edge.

“Ares is down there somewhere,” She hissed, one foot on the wall. “I have to help him.”

“No,” Athena commanded, grabbing her shoulder firmly. “We need you up here. Your skill with that bow will do more good here than down there.”

“But Ares-”

Athena took a breath, holding her spear tight. “I will go.”

Hera’s head snapped towards her, eyes wide. “Athena, I… Thank you.”

“Guide those spears true. If we do that enough, we’ll have them.” Athena did not know if she believed that, but they would have to hold. Long enough for Zeus to return, long enough to see Gaia’s plan in action. Hera was more than capable of seeing that through.

Athena adjusted her helm, saluted her adoptive mother, and threw herself over the wall.

She landed thirty feet down with a resounding thud. Her knees ached with the weight of such a fall, but they would heal quickly enough. The only concern she could sully herself with was Ares now. 

She scanned the horizon, desperate. Though hard to make out through the darkness, scales shone in the distance, a ways down the slope. 

She prayed Ares was alright, and took off at a run.

The monster grew larger with each bounding step. Not dead, but injured, hissing and skittering on its draconic legs, chomping at something Athena could not see. As she drew closer, a voice broke through the din.

“Fuck off, you big ugly asshole!”

Ares was alive. Relief flooded Athena’s chest, and she doubled her pace, racing towards her brother and the beast. 

The monster did not see her coming. Athena launched herself off a low lying boulder, spear in hand. She landed on the monster’s back, driving her weapon deep through the creature's scales, into the flesh of its back. A horrible screech pierced the air, and a thrash sent Athena tumbling to the ground, crash-landing only a few feet from her brother. Quick as she could, Athena hopped back to her feet and steeled herself against the angry, still-alive, thrashing beast.

“What are you doing here?” Ares hissed out. He was clearly in pain, his voice strained, ichor oozing from his mouth. His movements were stiff, jerky. He favoured one leg over the other.

The monster bared its teeth and shrieked before Athena could answer. Without speaking, without even looking at one another, Ares and Athena moved in tandem.

He went left, she went right. Spears drawn, they circled the downed beast, one serving as a distraction long enough for the other to drive their spear home. When the creature rounded on its attacker, furious and in pain, the other would strike again. 

Their strategy worked. The beast’s strength was waning. Its silvery ichor stained the ground, mixing with crimson. Athena splashed through it each time she moved in for a strike, her boots soaked with the concoction of blood.

She drove her spear again between scales, earning another shriek. Ares moved in to strike, the same as they had done a half dozen times over. Only this time, the beast did not turn towards her as she expected. No, this time, the creature was ready for Ares.

It lunged, mouth unhinging, teeth gnashing. Athena screamed. Ares cried out in pain.

Athena could not see what had happened, did not know if Ares was still standing, half-expecting him to be inside the belly of the beast now. She launched herself up again, scurrying across the thrashing scales of the monster’s head. There, among feathers and scales, she found her spot.

Athena drove her spear between two discoloured scales, deep as she could muster. The creature screamed, twitched, and then was still. Silvery blood dripped down the side of its monstrous face. And as Athena glanced upwards in panic, there was Ares. Kneeling, clutching his side, face twisted with pain but very much so alive.

Athena could not even feel joy at this victory. The monster laid dead at her feet, but she doubted it would be permanent. There were seven others ravaging their home. The battle was far from over.

Leaning heavily on her spear, Athena waved to her brother and offered him a grateful head nod. “Are you alright?”

Ares shrugged, wincing immediately at the action. “Broken ribs, for sure. Sprained knee. I’ll be alright, but that thing did a number on me.”

Athena nodded. “We have to get back to Olympus. If we can take down another creature like this, the others may have a chance.”

“Right,” Ares agreed, hobbling towards her. Athena jumped off the monster, landing beside him with a squelch. “Thanks, uh… For coming for me.”

“It was me or your mother, and I know which one you would choose.”

With one arm supporting Ares, the two of them made their way up the hill, back towards the plains before Olympus and the battles waging there. Cresting the peak, exposing themselves to the murky horizon, a beautiful sight unfolded before her.

A burst of light illuminated the plains, then another, dozens of them exploding into existence on the terrain before Olympus. Even through the darkness, Athena could make them out - nearly twenty humanoid beings, standing in formation. Some small, the same size as her or Ares. Others massive, hulking figures, wielding clubs and spears and nets. 

One figure stood at the head, a sparking bolt of lightning in his hand.

“Gaia… So you think you can challenge me?” That same voice as before, belonging most assuredly to Ouranos, echoed in the sky. The weight of so much power was stifling. Athena’s eyes darted nervously between the rift in the sky and the figures who had joined them on the battlefield, half expecting a dozen more creatures to come pouring through the fissure. None came.

Together, god and giant alike turned their weapons upon the monsters of Ouranos.

Chapter Text

ZEUS. 

Ten giants. The entire army of Olympus. Gaia to watch over them all.

It still did not feel like enough.

His home had descended quickly into chaos in the short while they had been gone. Only, what? Thirty minutes? Forty? It had felt like a lifetime, pouring his energy into the staff at a third of the burial sites, feeling the strength sapped from his limbs. The unconsciousness, a consequence of such an expenditure of power and a brief reprieve from all this mess, had been broken quickly by Apollo. 

His poor son was fading. He stood proudly at Zeus’ side, but the exhaustion was clear in the drooping sag of his shoulders, and the gauntness of his cheeks. It was only by his grace that any of them were still standing, and Zeus was grateful.

He just hoped they could do this. He hoped they were not too late, that this was not too little, that there was some chance of success.

But the circumstances were grim. Dark liquid poured from the skies, soaking them in an instant. Inspecting it closely would be pointless. The odour of blood was one he would not soon forget.

He could make out fires and flashes of light across the city. There were screams too, the crumbling of stone and clanging weapons. Somewhere in the distance, a loud explosion rocked the mountainside and a dozen bronze figures tore into the sky.

And those beasts… Zeus could count five of them from where he stood, their lustrous scales shimmering through the darkness. They flew rapidly, swerving and twisting in horrible ways, more eel-like than serpent. He did not know if their numbers were a sign that his family had succeeded in killing some, or something more insidious.

The monsters turned their attention away from the walls of Olympus, and out onto the plains. Three darted from the rest, snaking towards Zeus’ group through the sky at breakneck speeds.

There was no time left.

“Prepare to attack!” Zeus cried, holding his lightning bolt aloft. At his side, Poseidon brandished his trident, and Demeter raised her sickle. The giants gave grunts of anger, waving their weapons in menacing swipes. None had given Zeus any grief since their awakening, quick to agree to Gaia’s plan. He did not know if there was treachery on the horizon, or if they were simply ready for action after so many years asleep.

Whatever the truth, Zeus would use them for all they were worth.

The first serpent reached them, and the small group scattered. Zeus dove to the left, rolling across the ground to avoid being devoured by a giant maw. He popped back up, whirled, and fired off a bolt of lightning into the sky. Light illuminated the plain, but missed the creature by several feet. 

Demeter raised her sickle, and the ground became uneven. Blades of grass warped together into thick ropes that shot for the creature, seeking to entangle it. She captured a beast by the tail, its wings flapping frantically while it hovered in place. The monster thrashed and broke free of the confines, but slowed enough for Polybotes to land one solid strike of his sword against the monster’s tail.

Zeus turned, two more creatures soaring towards them. Lightning burst from his bolt, but missed again. One of the creatures screeched and veered right, but the other stayed its course, crashing onto the ground before them. It spun, tail spinning rapidly. It caught Apollo in the chest and sent his son flying. He crumpled in a heap fifty meters away, groaning. 

Poseidon swooped forward, stabbing the beast through the side with his trident. Silvery blood splashed against the soaked ground, and the creature roared, yanking free of the prongs. It shot back into the sky in a fury, spraying ichor as it went.

“We need to separate them!” Poseidon cried. “We can’t fight them all together like this!”

“Come with me, godling!” Polybotes shouted, dragging one of his gargantuan brothers along with him. “We will crush and stomp these beasts!”

Poseidon met Zeus’ gaze, bewildered and annoyed. A disbelieving look of must I go? Zeus nodded once. Though visibly perturbed, Poseidon obeyed his command and took off after the giants.

“I’ll go with him,” Demeter cried, popping up from a narrow dodge. “Apollo, take Hippolytus into the city and find support!”

Demeter would have been an excellent leader if she could stomach it for more than two seconds. For as she commanded, Apollo listened, taking his new giant ally at a sprint towards the city. A creature soared after them, but before it could lash out, something struck its side. Then, a massive explosion sent the monster careening sideways.

Artemis. Surely those were her explosive arrows.

Zeus turned to the remaining giants, who batted away the third creature with their weapons. Seven of them. Only seven, but creatures who rivaled the monsters in size and could deliver a serious blow. How best could Zeus utilize their strength? How could he ensure the safety and survival of his family?

“I need the rest of you in the city!” Zeus commanded. “We need to find others and assist them in their efforts! Keep the monsters from killing civilians and strike them down where you can.”

One of them - Enceladus, Zeus thought - pounded his club against his shield, the sound cacophonous. The others cheered in agreement and took off at a run towards the city, some coaxing the third beast into closer quarters. Zeus moved to follow after them, when a single vine wrapped around his ankle, halting him in place.

“One of them is missing, Zeus.” There was a tremor in Gaia’s voice. Panic. Zeus froze, desperately scanning the distance through the haze of blood. He could not count easily through the darkness… But perhaps there were six now?

“Where?” Zeus hissed. 

“I… I fear it has slunk away. To finish what Ouranos started.”

“The pillar-” Zeus breathed. He turned his head, shocked to find the giant king Porphyrion lurking over his shoulder, a blade in hand. Though the king’s blood ran cold, the giant made no move against him. Merely regarded him with intrigue. Zeus wished he could find comfort in that. “Gaia, if the pillar is destroyed…”

“Ouranos will finish the job himself. We must hurry, we must stop him.”

Zeus glanced back towards the city, towards his home and his family. They fought desperately, that much was clear. They needed him. His lightning could save them so much trouble if he could just get to them.

But if Ouranos descended, it was over. There would be no chance.

The only ones remaining were himself and Porphyrion. The only two who could do anything about this. Himself, king of the gods, and one of his greatest rivals. Forced into cohesion. And, perhaps, forced into a trap.

Dared he trust? Could he stomach the thought of being alone with this monster, the one who tried to destroy him, the one who attempted to rape and claim his wife?

As if reading his mind, Gaia spoke. “Do what is right, Zeus. Please.”

Zeus took a breath, gripped his bolt tighter, and met Porphyrion’s calculating gaze. Doing what was right did not mean he needed to forgive. “Take us there.”

ARTEMIS.

Silence had never been so terrifying. 

The ground rumbled beneath her feet as buildings collapsed, explosions erupted, and monsters collided with the earth and did their best to destroy and kill. Every so often, a horrifying scream or blood-curling screech would break the quiet, startling her to the core. But between those moments, there was only feeling.

She set herself up high. Down below, Hephaestus had recruited others to help him set off traps while she provided cover above. What traps he unleashed were now a mystery to her, difficult to track in the chaos of battle. But she trusted that he knew what he was doing, and so all that was left to do was fire and hope for the best.

As a multitude of figures burst to life on the fields, relief flooded Artemis in dizzying waves. Apollo was out there. He had to be. He was alright, and together, they could tackle this threat far better than they could alone.

But the monsters converged on her family, three of them circling god and giant alike. She fired, arrow after arrow, but the beasts were too far, even for her.

Only when two figures began to race towards the battlements did one of her blows land, exploding against the monster’s side. Apollo. It was Apollo down below, and with him, one of the giants they had raised.

He seemed to sense her, racing towards where she and Hephaestus lay in wait. He raced up the battlements, the giant hot on his heels, as the beast swooped and tried to claw at them.

“Here!” Artemis cried, tugging him to safety. The giant threw himself to the ground as the beast swooped again, narrowly missing the top of his scalp.

“This is Hippolytus,” Apollo said, signing as he spoke. “We need to get rid of that beast.”

“We’ve been trying!” Artemis signed back. “ They’ve been hard to kill.”

“You three pepper its wings with arrows,” Hephaestus interjected. Under his arm was a massive bronze capsule, engraved with strange symbols. “Get it to land, and I’ll do the rest.”

The giant, as it rose back to its feet, seemed content with that order. It drew a large bow from its back and nocked an arrow. Artemis and her brother did the same, climbing to better vantage points to fire up at the beast. Their aim was true, if a bit useless in the grand scheme of things. Each arrow Artemis fired ripped through the monster’s wing, but it did little to slow it down. Hippolytus’ arrows were larger, fired with greater strength - but his aim was not as precise, often missing or merely grazing the monster’s side.

But they peppered the beast with arrows. Its cries reverberated through the ground beneath her feet, but it circled and swooped, swiping at them with its tail. Hippolytus caught the end of it in the side and crumpled for a terrifying twenty seconds before the giant climbed back to his feet and took up aim once more.

Light shone through the holes in leathery wings, more and more arrows finding their target. Artemis feared they would run out before the beast became grounded.

But one, beautiful, well-aimed strike from Hippolytus was all it took. A massive arrow ripped through a ragged section of the wing, tearing a gargantuan hole through its flesh. The creature screamed and spiralled, crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom. 

It was not immobile, but it could not fly away. Artemis and her brother leaped from their roof, crashing to the ground below. They raced towards the beast, firing more arrows, providing cover for Hephaestus who hurried after them.

The creature spun and shrieked, tail whacking violently against the nearby buildings. It skittered towards them on scaly legs, teeth gnashing, moving quickly, far too quickly for something so large.

Hephaestus lobbed the capsule with all his might. It soared through the air, seemingly in slow motion, as the monster opened its mouth to swallow them whole.

The capsule slid down the beast’s throat, into the darkness of its belly. It choked and skittered to a stop, alarmed, all of its eyes flashing in surprise.

Hephaestus shouted something, but she could not make it out. A second later, Hippolytus threw himself at her and sent her tumbling to the ground, crashing with a painful thud. The world went white, heat and brilliant light exploding before her. The ground reverberated, a sound like thunder in her ears.

Gore sprayed across the street, covering her and the others. Silver blood mixed with the red on her skin, covered the walls, the stones, and the doorways. It was everywhere. And where the beast had been was only a mass of organs and meat, silvery scales, and shattered bones.

“Gross,” Apollo signed, spitting something foul from his mouth as he climbed to his feet. “But nice work, Heph. We can always count on you to make something go boom.”

ARES.

The giants swarmed over the walls of Olympus, joining the fray. For the briefest of moments, Ares feared the worst. He stood out on the plain, Athena’s arm beneath his armpits, expecting to watch a massacre. But the giants did not strike where he expected them to. They aimed their weapons at the skies, at the serpentine beasts, and protected Olympus with weapons and grit.

He could not trust that it would last. But for now, it was a fighting chance, and that had to be enough.

Ares wanted to join them, to raise his spear and bring down another beast. He and Athena had proven the monsters could be killed - now, it was only a matter of finishing the rest off before their numbers dwindled. 

He could barely stand, his knee throbbing violently - sprained, probably, if not fractured. Every breath ached, his ribs crushed by the serpent’s tail. It took every ounce of concentration he had to keep moving, and that did little to keep the pain at bay. 

A little bit of bloodlust… He could succumb to that feeling and fight through the pain. Ares had done it numerous times in his life, fighting through the worst of his injuries with a bit of godly magic.

Athena threw a wrench into that plan, ordering him to find Asclepius and heal before returning to the fight. As much as he wanted to reprimand her, to disagree with vehemence and anger, she was right. Bloodlust made him unpredictable, and there was too much on the line to risk that just yet. He could wait. He could be patient. 

Ares would strike when it was necessary.

Cresting the wall, a cry of relief broke through the din of so much fighting. His mother raced forward, her eyes wild, hair coming out of its braid. She did not hug him - no, neither of them had ever been so affectionate. But she did cup his cheek, nodding fiercely.

“One down, seven more to go,” Ares assured her. She would see through a mask, so he did not bother to hide his pain. “I’ll get back out there soon.”

“Of course you will,” Hera breathed. “But first - Persephone is here, not far. She will see to you.”

Hera said nothing further. She turned back to the battle, leaving Athena to guide him across the battlements and into a small home, repurposed for a medic station. Persephone tended to several wounded, but upon his arrival, quickly hurried across the floor to help Athena. Figures. War gods were important in war, and never any other time.

“Broken ribs, bad knee, probably some internal bleedin’,” Ares rattled off, used to this song and dance. “Throw me some ambrosia, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll just check you quickly,” Persephone said, lowering him onto the floor. Ares winced, cupping his knee to avoid bumping it in the wrong direction. The moment he was settled, Athena darted back out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. That was probably for the best, as he’d call her sappy if she had.

Persephone placed her hands against his chest, far too gently to be assessing his ribs. But as she did, her hands began to glow green and the pain seeped slowly from his wounds. Ares blinked, surprised. “How-”

“Spring is all about rebirth, Ares,” She said distractedly, drawing her hands away. “Your bones are being reborn. You’re welcome.”

Persephone climbed up to her feet. As she went, the ground beneath them rumbled violently, and the younger goddess stumbled to catch herself. Panic lit up her eyes. “Was that-”

Ares frowned. “A monster? No… No, I don’t think so. It lasted too long. That’s gotta be Poseidon.”

Persephone let out a breath of relief and turned to her other patients. “Good.”

  DIONYSUS.

The world was spinning.

Dionysus’ head throbbed like they’d been on a week-long bender. Opening their eyes took minutes, and at the first intrusion of light, the brightness was overwhelming. The sky was dark above them, trickling muddy liquid across their face. Somewhere nearby, people were shouting, but Dionysus struggled to make it out.

They sat up and immediately regretted it. Stomach lurching, Dionysus fought the dizziness, confusion, and disorientation, trying desperately to understand what they had woken up to.

A giant white beast lurked overhead.

Right… An invasion. Giant monsters. A building collapsing around them. Pain, and then darkness.

Hermes was there. When did that happen? He and Aphrodite stood next to one another in the narrow street, brandishing weapons. Hermes moved so quickly, it was hard to make out what he was doing. Aphrodite limped as she moved, but she managed to step deftly enough to avoid the swipe of iridescent claws.

They weren’t going to win. Dionysus could tell that much through the haze. They were losing. Aphrodite struggled to walk, Hermes was no fighter, and the alley was too tight. The monster was too large, too powerful, too capable. The rain too slick, the situation too dire, the world too fucking cruel.

The monster lashed out with its claws. One caught Hermes in the arm, ripping him open, ichor pouring everywhere. Aphrodite cried out, trying to reach him. She wasn’t going to reach him.

Dionysus snapped.

The world dissolved into an array of colours, swirling in patterns they could not decipher. There was nothing but agony and euphoria, a concoction so vile and so delicious. This was madness, this was the descent into delusion. They succumbed to it, piece by piece, the inner workings of their mind coming apart.

And then that exploded outward. Life and vision returned. Aphrodite and Hermes entered their field of view, expressions horrified. Had they done something foolish in that state? Probably.

But the madness was hard to control. It took deep concentration. A grin crossed Dionysus’ features, unbefitting the overwhelming pain in their head and the discomfort of controlling something so unruly. The power flowed from them, engulfing the beast overhead. Silent, invisible, but disturbingly overcoming.

The beast twitched. Its many eyes rolled back in its head. Its tail twisted and writhed, its body shuddering. What could only be described as drool dripped from its maw. And then it shrieked, desperate and maddened and completely out of control of itself. It slumped into the street on its side and writhed on the stones.

Aphrodite reacted faster than Hermes did. She limped forward, holding a dagger, and drove it between the scales of the monster’s underbelly. She tugged and tugged until its innards spilled to the street below, until everything was silver and red and that glorious, terrifying madness that Dionysus loathed to control slipped away.

The creature stilled, dead. Agony returned to Dionysus’ limbs, the world spinning in dizzying circles.

“Holy shit, Di,” Hermes breathed. “You saved us.”

“I’m never doing that again,” Dionysus slurred. They collapsed to the ground in a heap, unconscious again.

HERA.

The creatures had scattered. Though difficult to discern in the chaos, Hera knew that some had fallen. Relief, and dangerous, treacherous hope flooded her body. There was a chance yet, a chance to reclaim their home. A chance for victory.

But she needed to maintain order if that was going to happen. 

“Athena! I need you in the streets. Take a team and track down the remaining beasts. Go quickly!”

Her daughter nodded once, took hold of her spear, and charged off into the city with a small team at her back. Satisfied with that, Hera took to organizing those who remained on the battlements, reforming lines, restocking arrows, and barking commands at all who could hear her.

At the wall’s edge stood a lone figure - small, poorly armed. Her eldest sister watched the horizon, still as a statue.

“What is it?”  Hera demanded, stepping up to Hestia’s side.

Hestia worried her lip between her teeth, grimacing at the flavour of blood on her tongue. “Something isn’t right… I cannot see Zeus out there. There is no lightning. Where has he gone?”

A knot formed in Hera’s belly, sick with worry. She fought the sensation and placed a hand on Hestia’s shoulder. “I don’t know. You need to focus on collecting the wounded, and I need to get these fighters ready.”

Hestia opened her mouth to speak, but a shrill screech cut her off. One of the beasts swooped low over the buildings, crash-landing in the center of their staging ground. It crushed nymphs and satyrs beneath its feet, tail crumbling buildings. It narrowly missed the home where Persephone was stationed, but the havoc it created in mere seconds was devastating.

“I’m with you,” Hestia breathed at her side.

Together, they hurried forward into battle.

Hera drew her bow and nocked her arrows, firing one after the other in rapid succession. Some struck between scales, others tore through wings, but they did little more than annoy the beast. Hestia’s flames licked up its scales, burning what flesh they could find, but the fire could not penetrate its hide. Those who survived the initial assault tried to stab spears up into the beast's belly, but it was of little use. Getting so close only put them in more danger. Soldiers fell, over and over, crushed or swallowed or beaten with a wily tail.

“We can’t let it escape!” Hera cried. She fired again, striking the monster in the eye. It only made the beast angrier. 

“We won’t!” Hestia fired back. She pulled a knife from her belt, small and unassuming, which she lobbed towards the beast. It caught fire midair, and struck the monster in the eyeball-infested face, burning several of them. Still not enough to kill, only wound and enrage.

Tucking her bow back over her shoulder, Hera drew her dagger. “Okay, new strategy.”

“Hera, don’t be foolish!” Hestia shouted, but it was too late. Hera darted around those still standing and raced towards the monster. Time seemed to pass slowly, in a blur, every step bringing her closer and closer in agonizing slowness. The monster noticed her, but she dodged before the beast’s claws made contact. Hera slid beneath its scaly belly on her knees and stabbed. She drove her dagger up, hard, between a set of scales. Silver blood poured across her hands, releasing a roar of pain from the beast, like music to her ears.

Her victory was short-lived.

The beast was not dead - far from it. It spun so quickly, that Hera did not have time to move before it struck her. Its tail caught her in the side, and she flew, sailing through the air from the impact. She collided with the side of a temple, pain exploding in her left arm with sparks of white-hot flame. The queen crumpled, groaning in agony, slipping on blood as she struggled to pull herself back up.

She was failing. She could hardly move, shaking and aching.

“Over here! Get the hell away from her! Over here!”

Hestia… No, gods no. What was she thinking?

POSEIDON.

How the fuck were two earth gods supposed to ground a creature whose domain was the sky?

Poseidon didn’t have answers, but there was no time to ponder it. Four of them should have been able to handle a single beast on their own - but the giants at their side wielded weapons with little reach. The creature circled above them, hissing and screeching, but it had learned. It dared not get too close while four beings of power waited for it.

It would strike eventually… But then what? Did they just keep stabbing, and hope that one of their blows did the trick? Could they get it to land long enough to entrap it?

A million ideas raced through his mind, but not a single one stuck. Poseidon could focus only on the beast above, who dove quickly and rose again, testing them. Sometimes, its tail ranged close enough to swipe at them, sending them scattering. But it flew back to the skies just as quickly, gone before any of them could land a hit.

“We need to keep it down!” Poseidon cried. 

“We are trying!” Polybotes roared back.

An idea came over Poseidon then, something stupid , something lacking in brilliance and instead born of a strange kind of desperation. The ground beneath his feet rumbled. Before Poseidon could voice the idea aloud, before he could think about it really, he was soaring through the air.

The ground lurched beneath his feet, cracking, tossing him into the air like Mother Nature’s seesaw. His timing was almost right, colliding with the side of the beast as it dove from the skies. The impact was rough, his shoulder aching from the force, but he managed to drive his trident into the beast’s side. Attempting to remain there was folly, his free hand slipping over the slick surface of the monster’s scales coated in sky-blood, but silver ichor burst from the new wound in rivers. 

As Poseidon tumbled back to the earth, he grinned.

 The impact was softened by shifting earth, but it still hurt like a bitch. His knees buckled, screaming in pain. If they survived this, he was going to be sore as hell in the morning.

Demeter stepped closer, her eyes tracing the beast as it screeched and circled in the sky. “You’re an idiot. Nice work.”

“Next time, I throw you, godling,” Polybotes called, snorting. “And I catch you. Much softer.”

“Over my dead body,” Poseidon hissed. The beast above lurched drastically to the side, circling in strange patterns. It made another noise, one it had not before, a horrible low groan that grew higher in pitch with each passing second. The sky above them quaked like someone had struck a gong, small vibrations rippling across the horizon.

And then, a face began to form from the clouds. Subtle, at first, misty and unrecognizable. It formed slowly, piece by tiny piece, trying to come forth.

Ouranos.

Oh, they were fucked. They were so fucked.

“Dem!” Poseidon cried, reaching for his sister. The panic in her eyes matched the sensation in his chest. “How low do you need that monster to keep it pinned?”

His sister shook violently, meeting his gaze wide-eyed and terrified. “Pinned? I- uh… Forty feet from the ground, maybe? Less, if you can manage it.”

Poseidon swallowed hard and turned to Polybotes. This was stupid. Beyond stupid. He asked anyway. “...You launch me, I launch you?”

Polybotes seemed to understand without an explanation, his massive, misshapen face twisting with a smile. “Yes.”

HADES.

His strategy was not working anymore. 

The beast was wise enough not to get too close, and Hades could not reach the monster in the skies. Were he Zeus with his gift of flight, or Apollo and Artemis in their chariots, Hades believed truly that he could have bested this creature. But he was a god of the dark, the depths, far removed from this flying beast.

No, he would have to re-strategize.

Hades hopped from one rooftop to another, hoping to lose the beast momentarily. Invisibility granted him many advantages, but it meant little if the beast could track by scent. The monster lingered close, traversing the skies in dizzying circles. Between those massive claws, hidden rows of jagged teeth, and devastatingly powerful tail, Hades could not afford to be caught unaware.

He reached the end of the row of apartments, and lept from the building, tumbling to the ground below. He continued to race through the streets, trying to find a good spot. Someplace open, somewhere he would have room to work.

An angry shout echoed from his left, deep and guttural. “Here, beast! I will grind you into the sand!”

Hades groaned and veered left, following the sound of the voice. Overhead, the monster zoomed in the same direction, and as Hades rounded the corner, he saw the culprit.

Alcyoneus, one of the eldest giants, waved a large spear over his head, luring the beast towards him. While Hades admired his bravado, seeing an old foe this way was alarming. He knew what was happening. He knew the giants had come. But gods, he did not want to fight alongside one.

There was no choice, now.  

Hades darted into the opening between shops, where Alcyoneus had chosen to make his stand. As the beast swooped, the giant lunged his spear upward, clipping scales. But no flesh was pierced, the beast circling back around.

“If you can keep it distracted, I might be able to land a strike!” Hades hissed. He dodged as Alcyoneus swung his spear in alarm, looking for his invisible ally. “It’s Hades, fool. Enough of your wildness, we need to-”

The monster dove again, and Hades flung himself to the side to avoid becoming a paste. Alcyoneus was not so lucky, struck full force by the brunt of the beast’s head. They smacked against the far wall, bricks crumbling upon impact. Alyconeus struggled, groaning and writhing, trying to wrench his spear free enough to strike.

Hades raced across the courtyard. The beast opened its maw, ready to rip flesh apart.

The ground erupted with the force of the dead. Hands emerged from the earth, clawing at the beasts; some the purple of shades, others the rotting flesh of the freshly buried. They climbed their way up the monster, followed by the faces of the dead, rising, eager, obeying their king’s command.

They swarmed the beast, holding it down, and leaving it trapped. It screeched and thrashed, but where it broke free of the deadly grips of some, more were there to take its place. Such an act of power took concentration, and Hades froze in place, hand aloft, brows narrowed.

“Alcyoneus,” He cried through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his brow. “Kill it!”

“Trying!” The giant cried back. He wiggled his way out from beneath the creature, his chest concave, black blood oozing from between his lips. When at last his arms were free, Alcyoneus drew forth his spear and rammed it into the wriggling beast’s side. Again and again, he stabbed, over and over until silver blood coated him over the red that fell from the sky, until the beast stopped thrashing, until it lay still.

Hades collapsed to his knees, sweat pouring down his forehead. “I release you.”

With his command, the dead retreated to their realm, disappearing into the soil from whence they came. Alyconeus ripped his legs free and collapsed back against the rubble, wheezing.

“You need healing,” Hades panted. “My wife is not far.”

“Mother Gaia is healing me,” Alcyoneus replied breathily. He was right. As they sat, the giant’s chest began to return to its normal shape, his bruises disappearing, his breath coming easier. How could Hades have forgotten?

“If you can walk, then get up,” Hades commanded, struggling to stay standing. It was hard to believe that he and this giant had worked together, despite the past, despite all the suffering that had endured. It was remarkable. If only they could have always been allies. “There are still more of them.”

DEMETER.

Poseidon soared into the sky like an oversized bird. As he rose, the ground rumbled and tore itself apart, launching Polybotes after him. Demeter could not decide if they were extraordinarily foolish, or exceptionally brave. With Ouranos’ face forming in the sky, and the slickness of the blood that fell from it, she was leaning towards the former.

Her brother made contact with the beast, driving a knife between its scales to hold himself in place. The creature thrashed and tried to shake him loose, but Polybotes struck the other side with far more force, sending them careening sideways. The beast roared. The sea god and giant held on for dear life. Polybotes got a handful of bloody feathers near the beast’s head and tugged.

It began to plummet, the sheer weight of the giant dragging it down. Poseidon lunged, and for a terrifying moment, Demeter was sure he was going to fall. But he snagged a handful of feathers and together, he and Polybotes weighed down the beast’s head, its body forced to follow suit.

It sank lower and lower, closer and closer. Every nerve in Demeter’s body was alight with anticipation. The ground twisted and coiled, grass and plant life responding to her power, forming ropes, earthen chains.

Just a little lower…

The beast roared and shook its head violently, so rapid and thorough, that it flung Poseidon from his perch. The sea god soared, tumbling through the sky, until he slammed into the ground a hundred feet away with a thud that shook the core of the earth. He was not moving. Panic flooded Demeter’s limbs, her heart thundering.

Focus on your real task, Dem.

Polybotes still held though he was struggling to remain in place. The beast sank, but careened to the side, further from them, out of Demeter’s reach. She took off at a run, the grass beneath her feet urging her forward. The creature was close, so close , if she could just -

There!

Her earthen chains shot from the ground, encircling the beast, over and over and over until no scale shone through. Polybotes flung himself to the side, out of the way of her ropes, and watched in satisfaction as the beast sank further and further to the ground, thrashing but trapped.

“Kill it!” She screamed. Polybotes’ brother raced forward, the two of them hacking at the beast. But where they struck, her ropes were broken, her grip on the beast failing. More panic spiked in her chest. “No, wait, stop!”

She was too late. In driving their blades into the writhing mess, they severed one too many ropes. Her hold shifted. The beast thrashed harder, pulling itself free.

The ground shook so tremendously, it threw Demeter to the ground. A fissure opened up beneath the monster, a cleft in the earth ripping itself open. The beast sank into its clutches, deep into the earth, until the fissure began to close, squeezing the life out of the beast, its roars growing weaker. The earth crushed the beast and swallowed it whole.

Poseidon knelt a few feet behind her, bruised and battered. He was sporting a busted lip and bloody nose, but he was alright, and the beast was dead.

“You son of a bitch,” Demeter breathed, resting her hands on her knees. Poseidon grinned, then immediately winced.

“Good work, godlings,” Polybotes cheered. “Not so small and pathetic, after all!”

HESTIA.

Something feral untethered itself inside Hestia’s chest and drove her to the brink of madness. Not for the first time, even in recent months. And, if things continued the way they had been, likely not for the last.

But no one touched her siblings. No one hurt them and remained unscarred if Hestia had anything to say about it. She had failed to protect Zeus from Gaia - she would not fail Hera now.

Fire exploded from her palm in powerful torrents of energy, burrowing into the beast’s side. As Hestia moved forward, she tugged soldiers out of the way, aiming her flames high to avoid scorching any innocents. But she was lost to it, the fire consuming her, her mind a blank slate now filled only with rage. Not Hera. Not her sister. Not her fucking family.

Hope crested its ugly face behind the monster, obscured by blood and smoke - but hope. A giant climbed the battlements, tugging himself over the wall with a massive heave. Was that one Enceladus? Hestia could vaguely recall the name. But the monster had not yet noticed, its anger directed instead at Hestia.

Yes. She prayed Enceladus was wise enough to understand her plan.

“Here!” She screamed, shooting a puff of flame into the sky to hold the beast’s attention. “Does that sting, monster? Do these flames agonize you? Good! I hope they are torture for you. I hope you suffer for all you have done, for the master you serve.”

Harsh words. Almost as harsh as the giant who leaped into the air and bashed the beast over the head with his club. Almost as harsh as the subsequent twenty beatings, one right after the other, too rapid for the monster to do more than flail and flounder until its head was nothing but blood and pulp.

The creature lay dead, Enceladus gasping for breath on its back.

“Thank you!” Hestia cried in relief before she turned heel and ran towards her sister. Hera had tugged herself into a sitting position, cradling her left arm. It was entirely mangled, the bones broken, limp, and twisted in all the wrong directions. “Oh, my sweet girl, are you alright?”

“Me?” Hera breathed, incredulous. “I’m fine. You killed that beast!”

“I had help,” Hestia said dismissively. “Quick, to Persephone. You need healing.”

“How many are left?” Hera asked, wincing as Hestia tugged her onto her feet. “Ares killed one… I think I saw another go down on the field. Now this one…”

“Let us hope the others are being dealt with.”

“And Zeus?” Hera whispered, limping her way across the battlements. Persephone was waiting for them, ushering her inside. “Did you see him?”

Hestia gulped and shook her head. Their brother was still unaccounted for - but then, so many of them still were. “I’ll find him, dear. You get fixed up, alright?”

Hera nodded. “Bring our family home.”

ZEUS.

Gaia was right.

That was a truth difficult to admit, particularly under the circumstances. Leaving Olympus behind was hard enough. Venturing into the unknown even more so. With Porphyrion at his side, it felt like the act of a fool, and not a king.

But all of that paled in comparison to the terrors unfolding before him. One of the beasts, massive and serpentine, had wrapped itself around a glowing pillar of energy that shone gold and bright. Its massive maw engulfed a portion of the power, making its scales glow. The air was stifling, and each breath Zeus took did little to satisfy his aching lungs. It was as though everything around them had been absorbed by that pillar, to consume - and now to destroy.

“We have to hurry,” Zeus gasped out. He did not know how, but he knew it needed to be done. “Rip the beast free.”

“You mustn’t destroy the pillar in your efforts. It must be kept intact.”

Porphyrion held his weapon tightly and advanced on the monster. If it had noticed them, it did not seem interested in engaging them in a fight. “I know the sting of your bolt, godling. Strike true.”

The giant raced across the rocky slope, bellowing a war cry to the sky. The air around him warped and shimmered, his body rippling with energy. In a flash of brilliant white light, the monster unlatched from the pillar - still intact, thankfully - and soared down to meet the giant, somewhat reluctantly. Its body continued to shine, even free of such a powerful source of energy, and as Porphyrion’s blade met the beast’s back, it bounced off with an explosion of light.

Zeus hurried after him, joining the fray. The beast swirled overhead, diving and lunging, massive claws trying to rip him apart. Zeus was much faster, dodging blows, darting between rock formations to find cover, only to pop out again. He was trying to lure the beast away from the pillar, far enough that his lightning would not become a threat to the integrity of the pillar. But the beast was smart, only swooping in close enough for a potential strike before it flew back to its perch, waiting. Porphyrion tried again to break through scales, but his weapon only reverberated in his arms and flew backward with each strike. 

The monster was nearly invulnerable, wise, and in a position they could not destroy it in. Zeus cursed their luck, teeth grinding together in agitation. How to lure it away? How to get it where lightning could strike? Surely his bolt would be able to penetrate that glowing hide, wouldn’t it?

Zeus soared into the air, the winds beneath him guiding his path, and chose the most idiotic route. He would become an inconceivable thorn in the beast’s side and torture it into a more offensive position.

He zipped back and forth through the air, controlling his momentum with gusts of air that seemed reluctant to answer his call. There was no time to ponder it, though, his movements quick and measured. He swooped in, pressing a palm against the beast’s hide long enough to send a small zap of lightning forth. As Zeus had anticipated, the lightning penetrated. With each zap, the creature hissed and spasmed in the air, trying to swat him away, but Zeus soared off before it could strike a hit.

Porphyrion acted as an excellent distraction, risking the strength of his arms to strike the beast while Zeus found a new position to shock. The giant struck, Zeus flew, zapped, and soared off again before the beast could make sense of what had happened. 

With each strike, Zeus moved a little further and further away, luring the beast slow and steady from the pillar. It was working, too. Following every annoying zap of lightning, the monster grew more agitated, soaring after him.

Just a little further, and it would be safe to unleash the full power of his bolt. Just a little further, and the beast would be dead.

The winds gave out before Zeus reached that point.

His forward progress halted quite suddenly, lurching in the air as the feel of the winds disappeared. Zeus flailed in the sky, unable to catch himself, unable to summon so much as a measly puff of air. A cry ripped from his throat as he tumbled to the ground - but before he made contact, the beast lunged.

Pain. Extraordinary pain exploded in his sides, pierced by the monster’s claws. Two impaled each side, digging into his flesh, crushing through bone and organ alike. Golden ichor poured from Zeus in rivulets, his chest heaving with agonized breaths he could not catch. Gold stained his tongue, choking him. Tears stung his eyes, the edges of his vision going black.

“Oh, Gaia. You thought this pretender could defeat me? You forget who owned these skies before he did.”

Ouranos’ voice shook the air itself, and Zeus struggled in the beast’s grasp, trying to wrench himself free. It was no use. He went limp in his prison, wheezing in pain, shaking uncontrollably as that same, intoxicating agony flooded his body. 

“Gaia… Please…” Zeus coughed out.

“I-I cannot.”

“Gaia!” Zeus sobbed, staring up into the many eyes of his captor, its mouth beginning to unhinge. “H-Help me…”

“Porphyrion will come.. He will.. He-”

“Give this up, Gaia. I will be far more forgiving if you let this pretender die here and now.”

Zeus wept, the strength in his body giving way. He had not known pain like this since his days in Typhoeus’ cave, since the weakest moments of his life. Everything burned. He wanted it to end, he never wanted to feel this way again. And Gaia? Gaia had betrayed him again.

He became aware then of something moving along his legs. It was hard to feel, his senses distracted by the pain. But there it was, sure as it had always been. Vines wrapped around his limbs, imbuing him not with dread, but with strength.

“I have you, son. Destroy it.”

Zeus took a pained breath, and the skies unleashed their terror. Not that of Ouranos. His.

Lightning burst from the clouds, driving a hole through the beast’s heart. The sky was alight with power and energy, smoking and white hot. Lightning then ripped from Zeus’ chest, exploding through the beast’s grip. He could not see, could not feel. There was only the power.

And then, the brief sensation of falling, before his entire world went dark.

~

Zeus awoke and wished he hadn’t.

Every part of his body ached. Horrible pain wracked his chest, his head throbbed, and the rest of him felt as though he had been burnt. Sensitive skin rubbed raw.

He opened his eyes, letting out a weak groan. It took a moment for clarity to return to him, but as he glanced upwards, he realized what jostled him. Porphyrion towered above him, holding the king of the gods secure in his arms.

The sky above was blue, nary a cloud in sight. No blood fell from its beauty.

Zeus cocked his head to the side and met the glorious sight of Olympus. Buildings cracked, foundations ruptured, fires burning. But there was no blood, no signs of fighting. No sign of Ouranos any longer. Had he been staved off? Had the battle come to an end?

His question was answered mere moments later. The sound of wings flapping overhead drew his attention, and terror flooded Zeus’ aching chest as he realized what it was. Another beast, its scales shining in the sun, descended upon him. Zeus flinched, curling towards Porphyrion’s broad chest.

A dozen arrows struck the beast’s side, followed by spears and exploding bits of metal. Blades of grass shot from the ground, and swirls of tempestuous water. Fire merged with them.

The beast collapsed to the ground, dead, only a few feet from Zeus and Porphyrion. Behind it stood his family. 

“That’s the last one,” A voice broke through the haze. Athena. “The battle is won.”

And his family was safe.

Tears of joy slid down Zeus’ cheeks.

Chapter Text

HERA.

The battle was over, but the work was far from done. 

Her people gathered in the council hall. It was a natural meeting point, a place to regroup and assess their damages. Many were injured, limping or cradling open wounds that their healers quickly sought to. It was a gruesome sight, dozens of figures clumped together in states of disarray. Blood coated everything, all of their faces gone behind a mask of red, now starting to dry and harden on their skin. 

She counted heads as she walked, her pace slowed by pain. Asclepius had seen to her arm, soothing her as best he could, tugging the limb into a makeshift sling. But it was hardly enough to stave off the ache entirely. Only time would do that. 

Over and over, she counted her people, searching for familiar faces. Artemis and Apollo knelt together in the corner, signing to each other rapidly. Artemis fussed over her brother, poking and prodding at him while he tried to fight her off. Hermes had a massive bandage wrapped around his arm, tending to a woozy and trembling Dionysus on the floor of the hall with help from Hebe. Her daughter was alright, thank the gods. 

Hephaestus had reunited with his wife, Aglaea, the two of them embracing to the side. Ares called out for Aphrodite across the hall, relief evident on his face. The goddess of love limped towards him, tossing herself into his arms with an exhausted sob. Hera averted her gaze, and continued searching.

She placed her good hand on her twin brother’s shoulder as she passed him, not wishing to disturb a moment of reunion between Hades and Persephone. They did not have long, the latter returning to her work to help the wounded. Poseidon was propped against a wall, Demeter and Amphitrite fussing over his wounds, nasty bruises poking over the edge of his armour. 

Eileithyia had taken over establishing a triage station to tend the lesser wounded while Asclepius managed the worst. Athena had immediately taken over organizing the chaos, setting lines where wounded could be tended to. She and a few others kept everyone in check, ensuring that no one got too rowdy. 

Giants lurked on the edges of the council hall, unsure if they would be welcomed here, but in need of assistance themselves. Hera avoided eye contact. She could be grateful for their assistance, and still want nothing to do with any of them.

Which led her to her husband. He had been brought back to Olympus in shambles, covered in his own ichor, barely conscious. Hera had wanted nothing more than to go to him, to thank him for his help, for doing what was right, even if it was hard. But stationed in Porphyrion’s arms, Hera had been too afraid to comfort her own husband.

He would not blame her, and that only made her more sick. 

Asclepius tended to the king now, but rose from his feet as Hera approached. His work was done. Zeus had a massive bandage wrapped around his chest, his face paler than normal, only partially scrubbed clean of the sky-blood. But he was upright and talking, murmurs inaudible over the din in the council hall. Porphyrion had finally left his station, where he had taken up watch over the king of the gods despite Hera’s mental signals encouraging him to go.

Zeus glanced up as Hera approached, and tears began to glimmer in his eyes. He reached a hand out to her, and she took it in her right, the one not mangled. She knelt, heart thundering in her chest, and tugged him in for a messy, bloody, disgusting kiss. He melted into her, and his tears splashed her cheeks.

“You did it, my love,” Hera murmured, inspecting his bandages as she pulled away.

“As did you,” Zeus whispered. His hand rose, cupping her cheek.

A knot formed in her stomach, guilt and anxiety and fear twisting inside of her. Hera swallowed harshly, and tried to find the words. “Zeus, I- I’m so sorry. I should have trusted you. Without you, and the giants, I don’t know if-”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” He spoke, caressing her cheek, and all her doubts drifted away. Hera’s lip trembled, and she met his beautiful blue eyes in relief. “I did this my way, and you did it yours. It worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Hera sighed. “But you’re hurt.”

“As are you. Small prices to pay for peace, don’t you think?”

Hera shook her head, and held her hand over the one on her cheek. “You’ve paid more than enough, my love.”

The corner of Zeus’ mouth quirked, a subtle, inexplicable thing. He said nothing further, only leaned in and kissed her again. A kiss sweeter than nectar, more soothing than any balm.

The crowd behind them stirred, voices growing louder, the buzz more unified than it had been before. Hera whirled immediately, half-expecting to see more beasts on the horizon. Instead, a twisting mass of earth emerged from the marble, sloughing dirt off onto the floor. From the chaos, a body formed - feminine, almost, were it not for the stone-eyes and mossy hair.

“Gaia,” Hera breathed. She did not know if she was supposed to be grateful or angry. Instead, she felt only worry and doubt. A part of her still feared. Was there to be treachery here? Were the giants about to turn on them, wounded, trapped, and weakened?

Zeus gripped her hand, and gave it a tug, urging her for assistance. Hera shook herself out of her thoughts and carefully helped him rise to his feet. He was unsteady, expression twisting in pain, but he managed all the same.

“Congratulations, grandson,” Gaia spoke in her grating tone, inhuman in its inflection. “I cannot sense Ouranos any longer. Though he may not be gone forever, you have sent him back to the heavens, licking his wounds.”

Relief, tangible and consuming, flooded through Hera then. It was done, for now.

“What happens next?” Zeus asked, his voice lacking its usual strength. Still, it carried over the council hall, now silent in expectation.

Gaia’s muddy lips twisted with a smile. “I don’t suppose our efforts today mean my sons and I are forgiven, do they?”

Hera’s gaze snapped to her husband’s, eyes wide and fearful. 

But Zeus shook his head. “No. I am grateful for your assistance today. I know we could not have done this without your help, or the help of our relatives. But one good deed does not undo the hurt you have caused this family. What you’ve caused me. That was a lesson I had to learn the hard way.”

Gaia’s smile only continued to grow, exposing unnaturally black teeth. “Good. I did not do this in search of forgiveness. I am not always good. I simply am. I do not need to apologize for the way I am, the same way you do not need to forgive me for my transgressions. Continue to do right by this world, and no further harm will come to you.”

Zeus stared at Gaia for several long, unwavering moments. When he spoke again, his tone was stronger. “I will. As for your sons… I cannot allow them to integrate onto Olympus. At the very least, that is not my decision to make. But neither can I condemn them back to eternal slumber.”

Porphyrion stepped forward, and Hera resisted the urge to recoil. His beady eyes were too familiar, his face etched into her nightmares. He was the king of the giants, terrifying and cruel. Yet as he spoke, it was with deference. “No offense, little godling, but we do not want to live on Olympus. This is not our home. We lost our war and can make peace with a second chance. There is no need to pretend this world is too small for all of us. We will find a new home, with our mother Gaia, and live there in peace. This need not turn to conflict, if you allow us our freedom.”

Could Hera stomach the thought? Could she be content knowing these monsters were still out there? Could she ever allow them to live?

They had saved her family that day. They had fought off the sky-beasts and injured themselves in the process. Porphyrion, this monster, had dragged Zeus back from hell. Enceladus had saved her sister. Polybotes her brother.

Forgiveness did not have to be in the cards to do what was right, did it? And when Zeus spoke, Hera found no opposition in herself.

“I think that can be arranged,” Zeus agreed, meeting Porphyrion’s gaze. “I vow to do you no harm, so long as you vow the same.”

“No harm will come to you godlings, or anyone else you hold dear.” Porphyrion vowed.

“We will have much to discuss, still, I’m sure,” Zeus whispered. He turned then, slowly, uncomfortably, back to Gaia. “And what of you?”

Gaia cocked her head, and a series of pebbles dripped from her ear. “My work here is done, Zeus. I will see to the fair treatment of my sons, and then return to my slumber. You have my word.”

Zeus nodded. “We will meet again when my family is healed, rested, and of sounder minds.”

Gaia held her arms aloft, and offered Zeus a satisfied nod. “Of course. Come, my sons. Let us leave the gods to celebrate their victory.”

Her form melted into dirt, and with her, the dozen giants who fought at their side dispersed as well. Left behind were only their people, their brothers and sisters, cousins, children, nieces, nephews. Many eyes watched them carefully, fearful or intrigued. Zeus wobbled where he stood, and Hera raced to catch him.

“I hope you don’t hate me too much for this choice,” Zeus wheezed out, crumpling to the floor. Somewhere behind them, Athena began barking orders once more - drawing attention away from the king and queen.

Hera shook her head, kneeling next to her husband. “No, love. It was the only decision to make. It was benevolent. You considered all of us, and you considered what was right. I’m sorry I could not see that sooner.”

“You will be safe from him,” Zeus vowed, gaze growing more intense. “I know it is not fair to set him free, but -”

“Some of our demons are going to walk free, and all we can do about that is keep our allies closer.” Hera knew it would not be easy, knowing Porphyrion was out there. But for the sake of their family, their kingdom, and peace - she could bear that burden. “You know it as well as I do. Gaia is free. Porphyrion is free. They will not break us.”

“This will not be the end of our troubles,” Zeus whispered. “But perhaps the end of this era. A time to move to new ones, and away from the old.”

Hera’s head cocked, curious, brows furrowing. “With the giants, you mean?”

Zeus smiled. “Of course.”

ZEUS.

The party was unlike any other.

Only two days had passed since the battle. Wine flowed freely, the Muses sang as they often did. But spirits were not high, laden by loss and injury. Olympus was in shambles. Many had lost their homes, businesses had shattered, and the beauty of the mountain was tainted. All of that could be rebuilt, but in the immediate aftermath of such devastation, it was only further fuel to the fire of despair.

But many lives had been lost. Nymphs, satyrs, servants and close friends of the gods. Even more had been injured, their infirmary barely able to withstand the onslaught. All would heal eventually, but there were many bandages, crutches, and slings to be spotted among the crowd that evening.

The air was not one of victory and celebration. The party was meant to be a time to bask in each other’s company, to feel the joy of their success. But few were in the partying mood. Some drank themselves into stupors, but mostly… They were simply glad to be together.

Zeus could be alright with that.

He wandered the party, albeit slowly. His ribs had mostly mended, and his internal bleeding had stopped, apparently. But he was still incredibly sore, wrapped tight in a fresh bandage beneath a nice, silk shirt. These wounds would scar, and join the many that peppered his skin.

Zeus could be alright with that, too. As long as his family was safe.

He wandered between them all, stopping to chat with others. Ares and Aphrodite were nigh inseparable, and he could hardly get a word in before they were chatting privately again, heads pressed together. Athena was beyond ecstatic to have him around, using the opportunity to discuss the giants and how to come to a proper agreement. Zeus only half listened, allowing her the time to ramble as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Hestia and Demeter were locked in conversation with Nike. Zeus had seen Hades only moments earlier, introducing his son Zagreus to a few younger godlings. Hera had retreated to see to a refill of desserts. Poseidon had been hand-feeding Amphitrite sweets for nearly twenty minutes.

The moment Athena’s attention wandered to something else, and she dismissed herself with an apologetic kiss to his cheek, Zeus took his opportunity. All those who would notice his absence were occupied.

He slunk through the crowd, down an empty hallway, and out onto a balcony overlooking the gardens. It was quieter here. The sound of music was distant, the breeze cool on his face. For a moment, just a small one, Zeus allowed himself to be at peace. 

Gaia would return to her slumber. The giants would be free, but keep to themselves. Olympus would heal and come back to order. Everything was in place. Everything was as it should be.

Almost.

Zeus felt the stares before he heard an arrival, but he did not bother to look over his shoulder. He knew who he would find. Even distracted as they were, his siblings had been far too observant. Perhaps they had been keeping a close eye on him the entire time. Or perhaps they had simply been looking for an excuse to slip away as well.

“Feeling alright?” Demeter asked, stepping out onto the balcony to gaze up at the stars. “You’re not in pain, are you?”

Zeus shook his head. “No.”

He turned away from his view of the garden, meeting the many eyes of his brothers and sisters. Poseidon leaned against the door frame, silhouetted by the lights of the hallway. Hestia moved closer, reaching for his hands. Zeus squeezed them back, and smiled.

“I cannot believe that’s over,” Hades murmured. “It happened so quickly, and still felt like a lifetime. I’m glad we were alright, in the end.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hera elbowed Hades with her good arm, and grinned as he grimaced. “But I cannot thank all of you enough for your help.”

“That’s what family is for, isn’t it?” Poseidon asked. His broken nose had healed mostly, but he still sported a bit of a bruise under his eyes. “But you couldn’t stand to be around them any more, could you Zeus?”

“I just came here to think,” Zeus confessed. He had done nothing but thinking the last few days, and it did little to change his mind.

Hestia continued to hold his hands, bringing them up to cradle against her chest. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

“About these giants?” Demeter asked. “About how we’re going to handle this?”

Zeus shook his head. “No. Like I said, it’s not really for me to decide.”

Poseidon raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Zeus glanced back up at the night sky, at the stars that shone overhead, at the veil within which Ouranos existed. How many threats had Zeus faced in his lifetime? How many times had he gone to war for his family? How many enemies, how many difficult decisions, how much heartache?

Zeus’ mind was made up. He turned back to his family, and found the strength to say the hardest thing he had ever put into words.

“I’m going to step down.”

Silence followed his declaration. It hung heavy in the air like a fog, stifling them. 

“Like… step down from making this decision about the giants?” Demeter asked, lips twisted with worry.

“No,” Zeus murmured. “As king of the gods.”

Poseidon inhaled sharply. Hades held a hand over his heart. Hestia released her hold on his hands. Zeus stood tall, and met each of their stunned gazes with surety. When he reached Hera’s, he expected to find her anger, her fear, her fury. Instead, she was smiling.

“I think I knew this was coming,” Hera spoke. “You’ve been done for a while, haven’t you?”

Zeus nodded.

“Zeus, I- Are you sure about this?” Poseidon breathed.

“More sure than I have been about any decision I’ve made as king in a long time.”

“Why?” Hades asked. His expression was unreadable, though that was hardly unusual. But he was always the voice of reason, always curious.

Zeus smiled at his older brother. “I am doing what is right for all of us. I’ve been king a long while. I’ve fought hard for this family. But times are changing, and I think Olympus needs more than what I can offer it. And…”

He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I think this is what is right for myself. I’m tired. I thought for so long that the throne would keep me safe, that it was what made me who I am. I think I’m starting to see that neither of those are true. I have to… Learn what it is to be me without that throne.”

“What about Hera?” Demeter asked, eyes darting rapidly between him and his wife. “You would force her to step down, too?”

“He’s not forcing me to do anything,” Hera assured her. “Your vision for Olympus, Zeus? What is it?”

“This kingdom has run on a council all these years, but it was always a farce. Hera and I held all the power. Perhaps, it’s time to put that council to real use.”

Hera beamed. “The burden of leadership has offered us so much good, but… I’ve seen the way it weighs on you. I’ve felt it myself. That sounds reasonable to me.”

“And who better to oversee that transition than you, my love?” Zeus asked, voice timid, a puff on the wind. “But when all is said and done, you are free to choose. Forgive me for being selfish. This is not a decision I should have made on my own, but it was still one I had to make for myself.”

Hera’s eyes shone, and she shook her head. She closed the gap between the two of them, and kissed him warmly on the mouth. “It’s not selfish. You’ve given more than enough. And perhaps I have too.”

“Holy shit,” Poseidon breathed. “This is going to rock the mountain.”

“For the better, I should think,” Hestia spoke at last. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and her smile grew warmer and wider by the minute. “You both deserve rest after so many millennia of service. I am proud to have served you as my king and queen.”

“What will you do now?” Hades asked.

Zeus’ chest filled with warmth and relief, gratitude and melancholy. “The skies are still mine, aren’t they? Perhaps I can actually enjoy that part now. I’ll… explore the way I’ve never been able to before. I’ll dote on my wife and my children, and I’ll never stray far, but that throne will not be mine anymore.”

“It’s a brave thing you’re doing,” Demeter said. “I guess we should have expected you to be brave.”

Zeus laughed, and he reached out for Demeter, tugging her into his arms. He hugged her tightly, fiercely, and then released her only to replace her in his arms with Hades. He hugged each of them as hard as his body would allow in its state. Only when he reached Hera once more did the tears begin to form, sliding down his cheeks. The first of many to be shed on the subject, Zeus was sure.

“You’re not angry with me?” He whispered. “I know this is such a change, and it impacts you, and I should have said sooner-”

Hera silenced him with another kiss. “No. I am with you, for every step of this journey. Queen or not, I’ll be at your side. I promise. You’re making a good decision.”

Zeus collapsed against her chest, head buried in her shoulder. “You’re everything to me.”

Hera cradled the back of his head with her hand. “I love you.”

“That was not on the list of things I expected to hear tonight,” Poseidon interrupted, shaking his head in disbelief. “So what happens next?”

Zeus grinned, releasing his wife. “I want some of my last nights as king to be memorable. Last I heard, there was a party in the other room in need of a little life. Let’s bring a bit of that in there, shall we?”

Poseidon laughed excitedly, clapping his hands together. Hera chuckled, Hestia beamed, but Demeter glanced over at Hades with an incredulous look.

“Think you can handle that, bag of bones?”

Hades met Zeus’ gaze, lips quirking with a smile. “I have always been the life of the party.”

Yes. If Zeus left the fate of Olympus in the hands of a council, in the hands of his siblings and children and the rest of his family, then he certainly was doing what was right, for the good of all.