Episode Two: The Broken Pact

Episode Two: The Broken Pact

The city shuddered beneath a sky now dark with storm clouds. Thunder growled like a beast stalking its prey. Mortals hurried through the streets, sheltering themselves with umbrellas and glowing screens, blind to the ancient forces stirring around them.

Athena moved unseen among them, a silver ghost in a world of noise. Her spear was hidden beneath her cloak, but its power thrummed against her palm, eager for battle.

She knew it would not be long before others felt her awakening. Already, the old compacts were breaking. The ancient truce — the silent agreement that gods would not walk openly among mortals — had begun to crack.

A shadow moved behind her.

Athena spun, her spear flashing. The tip halted a breath away from the throat of a man cloaked in darkness. But he was no mortal.

Hermes, messenger of the gods, stood before her — or what remained of him. His once-bright eyes were dull, his wings torn and ragged. His robes were soaked with rain and blood, and when he spoke, his voice trembled.

"You shouldn't have returned," he rasped. "You don't know what has become of us."

Athena lowered her spear, her gaze steady.

"I know enough," she said. "I know the world is drowning in its own madness."

Hermes shook his head.

"No, Athena. It is worse. The gods have fallen. Most are dead, forgotten... or worse, corrupted."

Athena's heart, forged in battles older than the mountains, did not flinch.

"Then I will do what I must. As I have always done."

Hermes reached out, clutching her arm with desperate strength.

"Listen to me — Ares reigns now, not as a god of honorable war, but of endless bloodshed. Hades stirs the dead. And Zeus—"

He broke off, shuddering.

Athena narrowed her eyes.

"What of Zeus?"

Hermes' voice dropped to a whisper.

"He is lost. Twisted by centuries of hate. He no longer sees mortals as children, but as insects to be crushed. He seeks dominion over both heaven and earth."

The ground trembled again, as if in answer. Somewhere far away, a skyscraper's lights flickered and died.

Athena pulled her cloak tighter.

"Then the time for whispers is over. If the gods have fallen to darkness, then I will stand against them. Alone, if I must."

Hermes gave a broken laugh.

"You won't stand alone."

Before Athena could answer, a crack tore through the sky. A bolt of black lightning struck the city square, tearing stone and steel like paper. Mortals screamed, scattering in terror.

From the smoking crater rose a figure in crimson armor, his eyes burning with endless fury — Ares, the god of war, reborn as a tyrant.

He pointed his blood-red sword at Athena.

"Sister," he sneered. "You should have stayed dead."

Athena raised her spear, her eyes blazing with fierce light.

"I have returned to save this world, brother," she said, voice ringing with the strength of storms. "Even if it means destroying you."

The clash of gods would begin anew — and the earth itself would tremble at their war.

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