Athena’s War (ENGLISH)

Athena’s War

Written by Jordi 

Copyright 2021 by Jordi. Copyright 2025 by My Naughty Ghost. All Rights Reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

The birth of Pallas Athene was to happen in secret. The Olympians are all at a banquet, too preoccupied to notice that the Queen left early. She knew Zeus would become drunk and attack her, attempting to kill the child in her womb. After the war of the Titans, the Fates prophesied that her firstborn would kill Zeus and reign over Olympus, a curse for Zeus’ betrayal of those he had asked for help, and later be imprisoned in Tartarus. Being Metis’ firstborn, Pallas Athene would be the first child to die. Parricide is a hereditary fear in this bloodline of Immortals.

Beneath the audience of dying stars in the night sky, and amongst the jagged rocks and vines hanging from tall trees, she will give birth. Queen Metis was certain her daughter’s life would be an entanglement of suffering and conflict. But the child will live. As one string begins, the Fates cut loose another, and the two parts fall into the abyss. Her daughter emerges as a stream of white light of consciousness. The glow of the child illuminates Metis. The Queen’s long, wavy, golden hair moves softly in the breeze. The light becomes an orb, observing the mother’s elegant purple and gold fringed dress. It caresses her bare feet, touches her golden crown, and looks into her pale blue eyes. The child is learning.

A tall figure steps from the shadows. The moonlight highlights his red hair and silver armor. Metis draws the short sword hidden in her garments. When she realizes the figure approaching her is Prometheus, she stands, and the orb hovers around her.
“Metis, we must do this quickly. He is looking for you.”
Metis agrees.
“Where will you take her?” she asks, cradling the orb in her arms.
Prometheus bows his head.
“I cannot tell you. This is the only way to keep her safe.”

Tears roll down the Queen’s face and fall to the soil, creating flowers colored a vivid red, so bright they can be seen in the darkness. When the orb descends to observe the flowers, Metis disappears.

“Pallas Athene, I am Prometheus, your guardian. I was commanded to protect you from Zeus, your father, at any cost.”
The orb soars into the air, but is caught by Prometheus, heavy-hearted.
“I am sorry, child. This has to be done for your sake.”
He takes the child into the shadows, and the two disappear into the darkness.

---

Metis appears in her bed chamber. The white walls and gold trim comfort her. As she stands in the middle of the room, she can feel the long, sharp blade of the Fates grazing the thinning string of her existence, eager to break the remaining fibers and end her life. Metis steps onto the balcony and looks out at her kingdom. Those large winged beasts fly around the center of Olympus, constantly searching for intruders. Armored Giants wielding heavy blades guard both inside and outside the massive gold front gates, always ready to kill anything that attempts to enter. The lesser gods are busy building, cooking, cleaning, and weaving golden cloth. The winds cease, and all falls silent in the kingdom. Metis takes one final look at the sky.
“Just as you died, great stars, soon shall I. But, will my memory last just as long, and will it be just as beautiful?”

Metis jumps back into the bed chamber, and a blinding streak of light slices into the balcony, obliterating the structure, leaving only dust and debris. The Queen stands her ground as a massive glowing figure rips its way through the opening, tearing apart the ceiling.
“Zeus! I am not afraid of you! You will not have her!”

Zeus transforms into his natural state—long white hair, muscular, tall, with burning white eyes. He lunges at Metis, choking her with both hands.
“GIVE ME THE CHILD!”

Metis grasps Zeus’ sides, and pierces her fingers into his ribs; she can feel his fiery blood cover her hands. He roars in agony and jumps back, drawing his sword. Metis grabs a spear hanging on the wall.
“You will give the child to me, even if I have to pluck her location from your brain! She must die, Metis! How could you betray your King!?”
“YOU WERE NEVER MY KING! I WAS NEVER YOURS! SHE IS NOT YOURS!”

Zeus slashes furiously at the Queen, who parries and deflects his attacks with the tip of her spear. With a twirl of her weapon, Metis disarms the King and puts him on the ground. Zeus realizes the two are now surrounded by the other Olympians. He looks at Poseidon and Hera. Enraged and embarrassed, Zeus clenches his fist, forming a heavy blue and white illumination. Metis does the same and forms a large white disc. Zeus jumps to his feet and shoots a tremendous stream of light toward Metis, who deflects it with her shield. The beam hits an Olympian, and he is totally obliterated.

Zeus rushes behind the Queen and knocks her to the ground with two hard blows to her back. He pounces on top of her and pins her down with one of his arms. He lifts her gown, exposing her still-healing genitals. The King quickly disrobes and holds his erect penis. In the presence of her peers, she is about to be raped by her husband. Just as Zeus inserts himself into Metis, he is met with a powerful strike to the face, deeply scarring his right side. She reaches down and breaks the swollen member, bending it downward. Zeus yells in blinding pain; the roar rattles the halls of the palace. The King lifts Metis into the air and thrusts his fist into her chest, breaking her rib cage, clenching tightly to her heart. She is unable to scream, too shocked from the pain. The Queen takes one last look around her bed chamber—at the spear she used, at her peers, the killers of her kind. She can feel the snapping fibers of her life force, each a memory that will cease, a consciousness that will soon end.

The King and Queen look into each other’s eyes, both glowing with a fiery light, full of hatred, consumed by vengeance and bloodlust. Suddenly, Metis lets out a haunting burst of laughter.
“YOU WILL FALL, ZEUS! YOU WILL ALL DIE AT THE HANDS OF MY DAUGHTER!”

She pushes Zeus’ arm deeper into her chest, still staring into his eyes. The peers become silent as the prophecy echoes in their minds. The sound of Metis’ blood pours out of her body and onto the floor. The Olympians back away as the blood races across the floor, afraid the substance would condemn them. Zeus feels the warm liquid soaking his feet. For the first time, the Queen scared Zeus—scared him so much he fights to remove his fist, but she holds on tightly and keeps it in. Through this bond, Metis exchanges what she knows will happen in the ages to come. The King sees the greatness of the child, and he screams in fear of his own destruction.
“Prometheus is the father.”

Metis laughs loudly and her body collapses to the floor, dead, and her blood forms a crimson cape under her. The peers look at the Queen’s lifeless body, the remorseless smile on her face. Hera is the only one staring at the King, standing there naked, covered in his dead wife’s blood, his arm still in the clenched position. Zeus begins to stagger around the bed chamber, mumbling parts of words. He is exposed and vulnerable for the first time since his birth, when his mother Rhea hid him from Cronos, his father, who wanted to kill him.

“YOU BITCH!” shouts Zeus, pulling at his long white hair, ripping out handfuls in each hand, kicking Metis’ body. He can still hear her laughing in his mind, piercing into every bone and muscle.
“Stop mocking me!”

Zeus stomps the face of the Queen with his bare foot over and over. Loud, wet thuds resonate in the bed chamber as his assault breaks the skull, spilling her brains onto the floor. The King lifts the now headless corpse into the air, and with a fiery yell, throws it off the edge where the balcony once was.
“STOP LAUGHING!!!”

The body is caught midair by the flying beasts, who fight over the body parts to devour.

Zeus composes himself and says,
“I will find the child and will kill her.”

Poseidon steps forward and asks whether anyone has seen Prometheus since the beginning of the banquet, knowing he had a part in this betrayal of his brother, the King. No one has an answer. Zeus sits on his bed, cleans blood from his body with one of Metis’ garments, and tosses it on the floor.
“Bring him to me. I will make him confess where she is.”

CHAPTER TWO

Prometheus plants his feet on the Earth’s soil for the first time in ten thousand years. Once he was discovered to be the second party in Pallas Athene’s birth, he fled to the darker parts of Olympus, far beyond the safety of the Golden Gates. The titans who took refuge in the wild lands during the Great War found and protected Prometheus, while holding onto their hatred for his betrayal in the war between the titans and their children, the gods. His redemption is that his child with Metis will be a new hope for the overthrow of Olympus; otherwise, he would have been ripped apart on sight. 

The smell of the planet’s vegetation and soil fills his nostrils and reminds him of the night he took the young goddess to the gates of Tartarus, the prison of the fallen and damned of The Great War. Prometheus has no way of knowing what became of the child since he left her at the opening to the dark underworld. There were no decrees of her death. No body. No feast. She must still be there somewhere. The massive black cave opening of Tartarus in front of Prometheus drains his energy, reduces his strength, and renders him feeling both hopeless and powerless. Nevertheless, the silver-armored titan draws a long sword and prepares himself for whatever comes out of the abyss. 

A heavy, stoic breath comes to him as a paralyzing wave, striking into his body, echoing in his brain. A faint scraping sound is followed by deep tapping on a hard rocky surface. Panting and deep growls fill Prometheus’s ears, drowning out all around him. In the darkness, three pairs of large red eyes illuminate long, needle-like teeth, grinding together. An enormous three-headed canine charges from the blackness and circles around Prometheus. The beast’s fur secretes smoke and ash, as if the animal leaped out of fire. It barks loudly at the titan, baring its dagger-sized teeth, and gets closer to sniff his body. The canine steps in front of Prometheus and sits with a crashing thud, docile and waiting. He smells familiar. Prometheus sheaths his sword and pets the large smoking beast. It rests its chin on the titan’s shoulder, causing him to buckle under the weight of the demonic dog’s three heads. “You’ve gotten bigger, Cerberus! What are you eating?”

“Humans. Heroes, to be more specific—whatever remains of them. That is what Cerberus eats.” Prometheus looks beyond Cerberus and sees a black form emerge from the ground, rising into a tall, slender, faceless shape with black strands of smoke coming from it. The pillar of darkness floats closer towards Prometheus. “You are lucky, Prometheus. If he didn’t recognize you, your organs would line the walls of his cave.” 

“Hades. It has been a long time. A very long time.” Prometheus and Hades walk towards the dark opening, and Cerberus follows. “What do you mean? Heroes from what, exactly?” Hades stops moving and chuckles slightly. “Heroes—that is what Zeus calls his bastard sons. He believes Metis’s daughter lives down here in Tartarus of all places. He sends these heroes here to find her and kill her.” “She is alive?” A long silence follows Prometheus’ inquiry. “Come with me, titan, and all of your questions will be answered.” 

The only light in the hall leading to Tartarus comes from the fiery beams of Cerberus’ six eyes. The hot breathing from the enormous hound is the only sound Prometheus can hear other than the beating of his own heart. He has never dared to venture this far into the Underworld, and every step he takes feels like a condemnation. “My brother has done all he can to demonize me. Infest my world with those—pests he calls his sons. He does this to me. ME! HADES! The one who holds the keys to the chains that keep our father Cronos at bay.” Prometheus doesn’t know what to say in response to Hades’ outburst. “It is Ares, Zeus’ son with Hera—he is the real demon. He stirs the humans into frenzies—drives them to war and slaughter, at times, cannibalism. Yet, I admire the boy.” 

Hades laughs. “Cannibalism. Do we not eat our own, Prometheus? Did you not kill your brothers and sisters by joining our side, allowing Zeus to devour Cronos’ kingdom? Did you not relish the idea of turning back on Zeus and conspiring with his wife, Metis, a fellow titan? Did you not satisfy your appetite by partaking of his wife, did you not fuck the Queen of the Olympians and father Pallas Athene behind the King’s back? Did you not escape after filling your heart with sex and revenge, leaving your lover to be torn apart by the King? Is that not cannibalism, Prometheus?” The titan is paralyzed by Hades’ honesty. Has Hades taken me here for punishment for what I have done? Does the child know that I am her father?

 Is it possible they know why I am here?

The titan finds himself now engulfed by the endless ocean of gore and screams of torment before him. He cannot remember how he stepped onto the volcanic cliffside or where the dark hall ended. He turns around and meets a sheer rock face. He looks up and only sees a reflection of what is below. There is no relief or possibility of escape. The air is sulfuric and rotting from the collection of bodies stacked in a pyre of flames atop an immense altar with an inscription carved on top that reads THE ENEMIES OF THE GREAT CHAAK. 

Across a large sea of fire that flows in the middle of Tartarus, there are bodies partially buried, with the lower half of their body exposed, being bitten by small demons. Each time the creatures rip off a chunk of flesh, blood gushes from the wound, and the body regenerates, allowing the creature to continue eating. The other half of the imprisoned are submerged under the surface with only their faces showing. They scream in agony, pleading for death, every time the demons rip off their skin and muscle. Other damned beings are chained upside down, naked, and being whipped mercilessly by large demons and gods of the underworld. 

“This is where all prisoners of Olympus, and the damned, are brought to suffer until existence ceases. I share the reign of this world with the Great King Osiris, who rules lower Tartarus. In the upper world, I keep the Hekatonkheires, shadow beasts, cyclops, dragons, and titans.” Prometheus sees a familiar face embedded in the shore of the fiery sea, scarred with cuts and weary from living in torment. The face looks towards the titan and screeches, “PROMETHEUS!! YOU BETRAYER! WE SUFFER HERE IN TARTARUS BECAUSE OF YOU!!” A giant winged demon soars down and lands on the face and defecates on it. “That is Atlas, the general of the titan army. Why is he here?! I thought he was—-” 

Hades laughs and replies, “Did you really think he would be punished by holding up the Earth? That is simply a tale mothers tell their children, titan. There are powers even beyond our control that move the worlds. Have you never heard of The Creator?” The winged demon turns, faces Prometheus, and asks, “Lord Hades has taken you down here?” Prometheus nods. “Then, you must be dead—or don’t know you are dead yet.” Prometheus looks at Hades, enraged and paranoid. “Did you bring me down here to imprison me!?” Hades laughs at the outburst. “Why would I go through the trouble? Eventually, you will end up here anyway. Everything has a time to die, titan. Even immortals. 

Hades points toward a tall figure with a skeletal body and long canine-like skull. It is dressed in a white skirt and golden headdress similar to the humans of the Dark Continent. In one hand, he is carrying a whip made of jagged metal, and in the other, a large golden sickle. The figure begins to whip two titans hanging by chains, being held by Typhon, who is encased in a cocoon made of magma. The tormentor stands on the encased tail of the father of all monsters as he swings his metal device back and forth, tearing away from the bodies, causing the titans to cry in hopelessness. The sight brings great pain into the heart of the great betrayer. “MAKE THEM STOP! NO MORE!!!” 

Hades yells, “ANUBIS! Silence the prisoners and come here.” Anubis dips his sickle into the large lake of fire, and when he pulls it out, it glows a brilliant red-orange color. He then begins to silence the titans by sealing their lips together, causing the titans to violently scream muffled sounds, unable to move from their tombs on the volcanic surface. Prometheus trembles at the sight of his people being tormented on the ground—tormented, and being forbidden the release of death. This is what he caused. This is his doing. 

Anubis jumps into the air and hovers in front of the two, still standing on the cliffside. “Lord Hades, how can I assist you?” “Anubis, this is Prometheus, the titan. He has come to see Pallas Athene. Will you take him to her?” “Yes, Lord Hades. Follow me, titan, and I will take you to lower Tartarus, the kingdom of The Great King Osiris and The Great Queen Isis. You will find what you seek there.” Prometheus asks Hades, “Why can’t you take me there yourself?” “I can only move within my own kingdom unless I am invited by King Osiris into his world. That is our agreement. Besides, Anubis is from Lower Tartarus and has the authority to move within both kingdoms. He will take you there as safely as possible.” 

Anubis and Prometheus descend deeper and deeper into the dark chaos of Tartarus. The titan feels more hopeless and vulnerable than when he bowed to Zeus, promising to betray and kill his race to save the lives of Metis and himself. “Have you met Pallas Athene?” asks Prometheus, attempting to get the guide to speak. The two have not spoken in the last one hundred years, when they first began their descent from Upper Tartarus. “We are almost there, titan.” 

In the distance, there is what seems to be a horizon, growing steadily and pulsating like Prometheus’ heart. “Is that the horizon?” asks Prometheus. Anubis looks at Prometheus, confused, and asks, “What is a horizon?” 

As the two approach the source of light, it is revealed to be a large citadel made of a type of Tartarus metal that is both solid and molten at the same time, constantly folding and reforming upon itself. The tall metallic gates are heavily guarded by four faceless ghosts draped in black tunics, holding large swords. 

“WHO DARES TO APPROACH THE THRONE OF OSIRIS!?” asks the faceless ghosts in unison, now pointing their swords toward Prometheus and Anubis. Prometheus begins to ask a question, but is quickly attacked by one of the guards, who rushes so quickly, the titan barely dodges the attack just in time. Prometheus jumps into the heavy sulfuric air and shoots a concentrated beam of orange light at the faceless ghosts, obliterating all four of them. Suddenly, Prometheus is hit from behind by a bolt of light, causing him to crash to the ground. His sword is taken away, and he is quickly chained from head to toe. Unable to move to see his assailants, he yells, “Anubis!! You’re supposed to take me to see her!” 

“And I have, titan. Now you are in the presence of the one you seek.” 

Prometheus looks around as best as he can, but sees no one. He can feel the air of his attacker moving about him, studying him, but can see no one. Suddenly, a bold, feminine voice comes from the outer darkness, asking, “Why are you here, titan? Who do you wish to speak to?” “I come to speak with Pallas Athene.” Prometheus is suddenly lifted and thrown closer to the citadel. He yells in agony from the impact. He is kicked over and over again and punched hard in the face numerous times. He becomes so enraged that he breaks off the chains and staggers around, looking for his attacker, but sees no one. 

“WHERE ARE YOU, COWARD!? STAND AND FIGHT ME!” The titan is hit hard in the body, causing him to double over. When he looks up, he sees a naked female standing before him, covered in black oil and ashes. Her eyes are completely blackened, and her teeth are covered in dirt. “Why do you seek me, titan? Who sent you here?” 

What Prometheus sees frightens him more than anything in this hell. His child is now the black demon that haunts the path of Osiris’ throne. What happened to her down here? “I am Prometheus, your father. Metis, your mother and former queen of Olympus, ordered me to bring you here for your safety.” The black attacker rushes toward him, but is met with a powerful blast of light, which she deflects with a shield that was hidden behind her. The reflected beam hits Prometheus, knocking him to his feet. 

The attacker jumps on top of the titan and rams his sword into his side. He yells in pain as the blade is twisted, rupturing his organs. “I know who you are, titan. You are not my father. The Great King Osiris is my father. He found me after I was abandoned in Upper Tartarus, sought after by Zeus and his dogs. I lived alone, hiding, fighting every day, feasting on the carcasses of my enemies. Osiris shielded me and made me his own. Metis died bravely, defending me.” 

The woman pulls a dagger from the ground and stabs Prometheus in the groin, causing him to double over in blinding pain. “You are no father. You raped my mother with promises of peace and hope…then you abandoned her.” Prometheus spits out blood and replies, “I am sorry.” “Oh, you will be, titan. I will let you know what it means to feel sorry.” “Pallas—I wish I could have kept you. I didn’t want to leave you!” 

“SILENCE, LIAR! My name is not Pallas Athene. I am Nemesis, daughter of Metis and child of Osiris, and the agent of your damnation. Zeus sent you to me to be imprisoned, you fool.” Nemesis commands the dark creatures in the shadows to collect the titan and place him atop a rock on a cliffside south of the citadel. They imprison him there using fiery chains of Tartaric metal, covered in spikes. He yells and pleads for help, but to no avail. The demons laugh sadistically as they stab him with stones and knives, creating cuts in his skin.

 “No one will save you, titan!” 

“You are forever damned!” 

“You betrayed your kind and must suffer!!” 

Nemesis stands over the prisoner’s body and says, “You are condemned to live an eternity, chained here while your organs are ripped out and devoured. You will never know death because you are not deserving of such peace.” The demons tear open his torso in bloody gashes and eat the titan’s intestines and stomach. He cries in pain, wanting to die, but his organs redevelop and are eaten again, over and over. 

Nemesis turns around to find her white haired twin clad in black and gold armor standing behind her. The sister’s white, glowing eyes illuminate the contours of Nemesis’ tightly muscled body, and a smile forms on her face. “Are you pleased, Athena?” The sister looks past Nemesis to observe Prometheus engulfed by demons, eating his body. Even more demons congregate around the fallen titan’s body, waiting for their opportunity to fill their stomachs with his flesh. She can hear her father yelling in agony as his skin and hair are torn off by ravenous creatures and consumed. 

Athena laughs and embraces her naked, black, oily sister. “Yes, I am. Come, we must join the feast Zeus has made in our honor. Aphrodite is waiting with father and mother at the front gates.” The two leave the titan to his fate. Prometheus sees the two sisters run towards the fiery citadel, welcomed into the open arms of the great gods Osiris and Isis. He ceases to resist and accepts his imprisonment just as a small demon bites off his genitals. He is no longer a threat to Olympus. He is the only meat to feed the swarming legion. In the distance, sounds of the laughter and acclamations of justice of his fellow titans can be heard from the upper levels of Tartarus. 

CHAPTER THREE

Poseidon was given one task by his brother Zeus: Keep the Queen from entering the throne room. 

As the god stands guard at the stairway leading to the throne room, he is alarmed by the sound of quick footsteps heading in his direction. The god draws his silver trident from a holder on the back of his breastplate. He can now see Hera racing down the mile-long corridor wearing her violet and gold royal gown. All of the gods and lower gods bow as their Queen rushes past at a furious pace. 

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!” Just before she reaches Poseidon, Hera teleports behind him and reaches the door. Poseidon grabs her by the arm and throws her back. “I AM YOUR QUEEN! YOU DO NOT TOUCH ME!!” Poseidon thrusts his trident into Hera’s stomach; he can feel the points hit her spine. “I have orders.”

In heavy gasps, Hera laughs, kicks the god away, and pulls the trident out, tossing the weapon to the ground. “That’s all you can do?!” Hera draws a long dagger from a hidden sheath and stabs Poseidon in the groin. He screams and grabs Hera’s garments. “Hurts, doesn’t it? This is a new blade made by my son, Hephaestes. It has a fantastic feature.” 

She presses a small lever on the dagger handle, causing the blade to spin, ripping into his flesh. Poseidon cries out in pain, clawing into Hera’s arm. “It’s a torture device for unfaithful husbands, like yourself. The more you plead, the more damage it causes.” Hera steps over Poseidon, removing the bloody dagger. When she enters the throne room, the lesser gods pour healing oil on the god’s wound, completely restoring him. 

Hera cannot believe what is taking place before her. Zeus is sitting on his throne, naked, covered with sensual oils, and young Ganymede is sitting on Hera’s throne, wearing Zeus’s crown. The two are laughing and drinking a strong liquor from a diamond gauntlet that can never be emptied once filled, ensuring indefinite intoxication. “What are you doing with that—-boy?” Hera storms down the long court leading to her throne. She reaches for Ganymede, but his grabbed by the King. “What are you doing, Hera? He is sitting there on my request. My request.”

 “Get off my throne, mortal.” Zeus pushes the Queen back and rises. “Did you not hear me? He is there because I want him there! If you try to touch him again, I will—” “You will what, Zeus? Kill me like you killed Metis? If anyone should be threatened, it should be you!” “Quiet!” Zeus strikes Hera, knocking her to the ground. 

She laughs and wipes the newly drawn blood from her ear. “You go to Earth and fuck everything that moves, and have the most hideous children. These abominations. Minotaurs, giants, sea beasts without names—all come from your seed. Now, you fuck a human man! What kind of creature do you want to come from him?! You disgust me!” Hera spits in Zeus’ face, and he kicks her in her trident wound, causing her to double over, bleeding violently. 

Hera coughs as she struggles to laugh. “Go on!! Kill me already, you coward! Finish me off like you did with your first wife. Maybe little Ganymede will make a good wife for you!” “I said be quiet!” The King lifts Hera into the air and breaks her back, dropping her to the throne room floor in a twisted form, writhing in pain. The Queen is unable to yell or retaliate as Zeus begins to have sex with Ganymede in front of her. 

Hera’s hatred broods. She knows what must be done now.

The banquet hall is filled with hundreds of dishes, breads, liquors, and desserts. The enormous marble roof displays scenes of each of the honored guests in various imagined poses, suggesting valor and excellence. On a glass table, five golden leaf crowns rest in front of accompanying scrolls of declaration. Eclipsing the glass table is the long black marble table for all others attending the banquet, including the King, Queen, and now young Ganymede. Lesser gods swarm back and forth, placing ornaments and glasses on the table. Dionysus points to five lesser gods. “You five, come here.” The chosen ran to him and waited for their orders. “This banquet is for six hundred twenty guests, correct?” The lesser god nods. “Yes, Lord Dionysus. Is something wrong?” 

Dionysus runs his fingers through his curly blonde hair and adjusts his scarlet robe. “No, everything is fine. I wasn’t sure if I had the correct number of seats for our guests. As we know, Hypetheses was in charge of keeping record of those planning to attend, and regrettably, he was killed by Ares for stepping on his foot.” Dionysus pulls out a chair and sits. One of the five lesser gods serves him a glass of liquor, then five more for his fellow workers and himself. “Terrible way to die, being skinned alive.” “Then fed to the hydras in the Crystal Sea.” 

“Did I hear my name, Dionysus?” The lesser gods face Ares as he enters the banquet hall clad in newly shined black and red armor. His sword sheath slams against the backs of chairs as he walks the length of the black table, creating a chaotic metronome of heavy thuds. The radiating light of these red eyes hits the table and causes the surface to appear bleeding from some invisible wound. With one hand resting on the handle of his sword and the other holding a warhammer, he approaches Dionysus, who feels more vulnerable than ever before in his life.

“We were discussing the fate of Hypetheses. He was responsible for keeping the number of guests for tonight’s banquet. Now that he is—well, gone, we are—” Ares sits on the table next to Dionysus, knocking over glasses and dishes. Lesser gods rush to clean and replace items. “Do you know why I killed him, Dionysus?” Ares rests the warhammer in his lap. Dionysus looks at the rugged weapon, still stained with blood. The sharp barbs on the rear of the hammer make the god cringe, careful not to show fear in front of Ares because he would exploit it. “N—No. Why did you…kill him? Was it because he stepped on your toes?”

Ares slaps his younger brother’s back, sending a painful, thunderous sound echoing throughout the hall. Dionysus buckles slightly under the weight of the blow. The older brother bellows a heavy cackle and drinks wine from a nearby gold container. “Look at what they are doing for them. What is our father doing about these mistakes? Achilles, Heracles—Athena. They are not worthy of a party this immense, or honors so great! These defecations from gods and titans receive great praise and titles from Zeus, TITLES ABOVE HIS RIGHTFUL CHILDREN, BORN OF TWO HIGH GODS!! He is showing all of Heaven, Hell, and humanity, he loves them more than he will ever love us — HIS SONS!!”

Ares places his arm around Dionysus and weeps deeply. “Athena and her sisters are not even his daughters! I hate her so much, and I have never met her! And Athena’s shadow of a sister, Nemesis…what creepy dark hole did she spawn?!” Ares laughs halfheartedly and takes a large gulp of wine. “And, my dear Dionysus, this is why I killed Hypetheses: He praised Athena openly, teaching a song to the young Olympians, intertwining it with their education, and festering the already infected wound further. His happiness was a curse to my heart! The song stabbed into my bones!” 

Ares reaches into the air and clenches his fist while pulling down on an imaginary item. “When I peeled the skin from his flesh, he didn’t scream or plead for his life; he kept singing the song! SINGING AND SINGING!!! So I fed him to the hydras and nailed his skin to the side of the school. That stopped the singing.” Dionysus fully embraces Ares and kisses him on the neck. 

CHAPTER FOUR

Aphrodite stands in her large red bed chamber, examining her long white gown and makeup in the shiny black crescent-shaped axe head hanging from the giant shadow beast’s weapon, using it as a mirror since her room lacks one. During an argument with Nemesis, Aphrodite claimed her sister was jealous and would never be seen as beautiful. In revenge for the insult, Nemesis melted all mirrors in Lower Tartarus, reducing Aphrodite to such measures. “Lower your axe, Grul, I want to see how my gown drapes my hips and stomach. I do not want to look fat or old.” The tall shadow demon bends on one knee, now at eye level with the blond goddess, and presses the blade closer to her, careful not to be too close. “You are always beautiful, goddess. No matter what you wear, you will always be the most attractive creature in existence.” 

Aphrodite looks into Grul’s hollowed black eye sockets and wonders what was once there. She wonders what his race once looked like before the form she sees in front of her. According to what she was taught in her education from Athena, before his people were shadow beasts, they came from another creature from Heaven. Just as gods come from titans, and titans came from the higher order of immortals, the shadow beast came from a higher order of immortals, perhaps a common ancestor. Perhaps, at some point, his missing eyes were heavenly illuminated and blue like her own. His smok,y reptilian skin may have been smooth and soft to the touch. His ancestors could have had long flowing hair and ruled as gorgeous immortals. But something happened that changed his people into what they have become. 

Aphrodite strokes the creature’s face, feeling the heavy, warm skin, baked for millennia in the depths of Tartarus. “Touch me, Grul. Touch me if you are curious. You have my permission.” Grul reaches out to feel the goddess’s shoulder and upper arm. “Do I feel beautiful to you?” Aphrodite takes away Grul’s weapon and tosses it on the volcanic tiled floor in the glowing red bed chamber. She kisses the shadow beast on his hand and his lips. Grul feels an unknown rush of emotion pass through his body, and his penis becomes erect in the goddesses’ hands. “I want you to lie with me, Grul. Then you will feel beautiful too.” Aphrodite unfastens her gown, and it flows down her full breasts and scales her well-sculpted figure before hitting the floor. She laughs and playfully leaps onto her large red bed, beckoning the shadow beast to come. 

Suddenly, Isis enters the bed chamber, wearing a long white robe, clad in golden jewelry, and a face full of surprise. “Why are you not ready, child?!” Grul quickly bows humbly, awaiting some form of punishment. “I’m sorry, mother, I was dressing, but I thought I had more time for fun before the banquet.” Isis picks up Aphrodite’s gown and observes the texture. “This will look very good on you, daughter. But try to keep it on for a while this time.” The goddess rises from the bed and kisses the bowing shadow beast. “I am sorry for leaving you this way. Please forgive me.” Aphrodite puts her gown back on and leaves the bed chamber with Isis. 

As Athena sits on a broken statue in the main hall of the citadel, she adjusts her armor, carefully concealing her weapons behind her white cape. She fears facing Zeus in person, but only because she does not know how she will react. If I kill him, I declare war against Heaven. But if I make an alliance with Zeus, a pact is formed between Heaven and Hell. It all rests on how we behave. Athena sighs deeply and looks out at Tartarus, hearing the faint screaming of the damned and rattling of chains. The hellish fury is what she knows as home; the honesty of the flames has kept her focused, abstinent, and sober. 

Her role as a mediator between love and hate has made her the neutral voice of the three sisters. Athena is the strongest of the three, but also the weakest. She still remembers what it felt like to be alone, so full of hatred and longing for love that her soul was split apart, creating an entity to serve those appetites. 

Nemesis steps out of a nearby shadow, wearing black armor similar to Athena’s, disguising her weapons behind a black cape. Her pale skin, now free of black substances, glows in the fires of the underworld. Her black hair flows down her head and onto her breastplate. She sits next to Athena and helps her sister tie back her platinum hair. 

“I will honor the treaty, Athena. I will not cause harm to anyone while we are in Heaven, unless in defense.” “Good. We cannot afford a war between two worlds. Nothing can be gained by doing so. We can only hope Olympus shares our sentiment.” Nemesis laughs at the idea of Olympians behaving rationally. “If they can contain themselves from getting drunk and fucking every creature in existence for one Earth night, there may be hope. But, Ares—he wants a war. I’ve never met him, but I know he has an itch and is aching badly to scratch it.” 

Osiris approaches the two from the citadel, wearing a golden robe. “We look like we’re leading a war against Heaven from below.” Athena looks back at Nemesis, who remains silent. “We are, father, but this is a war of words—diplomacy is the word the humans use for this.” Osiris laughs at Athena’s response. “Humans? Have you visited the Earth’s surface?” “I have. There is so much diversity in the people and their beliefs! For such primitive creatures, humans have come a long way, though they are still small-minded. It was odd that each culture I met built a statue and temple, then worshipped in it. Sacrifices are made in my honor, while I have done nothing to help them. Why do they have such a strong desire to worship me—worship us? I am no one to them except a mere observer, and did not feed them or give life to them.” 

Osiris fixes strands of hair on Athena’s head and kisses her forehead. “Daughter, we are immortals, and with that privilege, we have an obligation to the mortals. We must give them something to believe in. They need a balance in order to survive as a species. When humans worship immortals and our attributes, they aspire to be like us, ever striving for intellectual, artistic, and technological achievements that place them closer to us, however small a movement it may be. It keeps the creatures from going back into the swamps and holes in the ground where they once came. They need us, Athena, more than you will ever understand.” 

“Is Aphrodite going to marry one of Zeus’ sons?” Osiris nods and sits next to Athena, and Nemesis remains quiet and unacknowledged. “Yes, your sister will marry Hephaestus; it is part of the peace treaty. We do not know how she will handle this, because she loves her—freedom. That is why- why—you must leave too.” Athena stands and looks around her home. “You need me to stay in Olympus with Aphrodite, to protect her?” Osiris stands and places his hand on her shoulder. “I need you to stay in Olympus so you can protect the Olympians. There are many enemies of Heaven, enemies that live in Tartarus, such as Hades and Typhon. If the two go to war with Zeus, it would be impossible to stop them down here because they would be too powerful. In Heaven, you could amass a large army to battle the enemies back and trap them here once again. Only you know how to fight Hell beasts in their own element and make it out alive, which is why Zeus wants you as Defender and his personal bodyguard.”

Why does he want me to be his bodyguard? Does he not remember what he did to my mother? I would be the one to kill him. “I will do my part to keep the peace, Father.” Osiris embraces Athena tightly. “I am glad you understand my decision. It is not easy for either of us.” “Will Nemesis stay with us in Olympus as well?” Athena pulls away from the embrace and looks into Osiris’ eyes, now stoic and distant. 

“How could we—we need her with us, father! The three of us share one soul!” “Athena, I know this is difficult for you to realize at the moment, but leaving Nemesis down here is the best option. Her untamed hatred is the worst of your shared soul.  I’ve made my decision. She will attend the banquet, but there is no place for her in Heaven.” Athena turns to Nemesis, who fades into the shadows.