The winged beast loosed a scream so colossal even the dead in Tartarus felt the vibrations through their torture. The Griffin beat his wings, igniting a gale force to sweep across the field as his body rose. The blackened clouds of the Old Ones’ destruction welcomed the Griffin into their camouflaged ranks, and the winged beast vanished from sight as he prepared to strike again. Just as the sky swallowed him whole, his dark eyes locked with Zeus’. Their onyx gleam flashed at the King, and Zeus dipped his chin. No words passed between their minds, but none were needed. Zeus understood. The Griffin had seen the great god of Olympus nearly forfeit his life to stop an unstoppable evil, and that sacrifice could not be ignored. The Griffin did not meddle in the affairs of men, but when Zeus, lord of thunder, gave of himself, the Griffin finally recognized a reason worth fighting. This was his world, and no monstrosity would ever rule his golden nest save him. The Griffin tossed his head at Zeus, and then he was gone, silently soaring above the battle as the mad gods below clamored to predict where his mighty wings would attack again.
Minotaur bellowed as the red blemish of his brethren dripped down the mountain’s face. In three long strides, he was at Athena’s back. With his punishing weight, he stepped a heavy heel on the goddess’ spine and sank into her. Her agony sputtered out in wet gurgles, but before he could extinguish her life, a figure hurtled to the ground before him. Pain exploded through Minotaur’s muscles as a battered Hera drove a dagger into his foot. She growled with bared teeth as she twisted the blade with one hand and gripped the barely breathing Athena to her breast with the other.
“You cannot have her,” Hera snarled, “Hades will ensure the suffering you have inflicted upon our heads will be returned sevenfold.” Her words of solidarity about her former enemy rang like a prophecy over the anarchy, and with Hera’s defiance, the goddesses vanished from his grasp.
Minotaur wiped the blood from his foot. A wave of excruciating anger washed his soul, and with renewed vigor, he leapt after the retreating Hades. He was behind her in seconds, crushing the bodies of the fleeing Old Ones beneath his raging mass as he hunted her down. As Hades fled with her healing husband flung over her back, Minotaur shot out a massive hand and grabbed her ankle. A cry escaped Hades’ throat as they plummeted to the ground, rolling over one another in a heap of tangled limbs, but before they came to a halt, Minotaur was above her, plucking her from Alkaios’ crumpled figure.
“Save him!” Hades screamed at Kerberos, who bent his three heads in obedience and shoved them beneath Alkaios. He tossed his king over Chimera’s back and turned to his mother. “Go! Get out!” Hades willed her dog to escape the trap. All others had cleared the runes, save them, and Hades knew as her uncle’s unforgiving fingers clawed her body that her fate was tied to the Old Ones. She would not bind Kerberos’ destiny to hers.
“Go!” she cried as Minotaur flung her to the ground. The dog pressed a wet nose to her fingers, but Hades slapped him aside as her bloodied form crawled through the grass. He had to leave. She needed him to live, and Kerberos backed away from her with hesitant steps. He withdrew as the Griffin above raged against their enemy, forcing the horde into the trap with his sheer, monstrous size. The Olympians formed an encompassing barrier around the battlefield, aiding the creature in the sky with his vicious assault, yet Kerberos continued to walk backward, eyes never parting from the one person he loved in this world. He would watch Hades until the end.
Hades’ brain dizzied from the blow, and her palm instinctively went to her small belly. Minotaur paused at her protective gesture, and realizing what she had done, Hades snapped her hand back. She scrambled to her feet and brandished the pitchfork. She shot her eyes to where the Olympians stood as she bent her knees to attack. Zeus and Poseidon had their weapons pressed into runes, and Hades’ saw their flicker of hesitation. They wanted her to move, to escape the runes, but there was no time. Minotaur was upon her, and only the Omega could contain his strength. With a shuddering breath, Hades locked gazes with Zeus and nodded with gritted teeth before slamming into the Alpha. With an excruciatingly heartbroken cry that ripped through the hearts of the Olympians, Zeus slammed the base of his weapon into the bloody symbol, and with a jolt of electricity from the thunderbolt, the trap ignited.
Wind began to howl about them, its ferocity clawing at all who remained within the trap’s grasp. Desperate to free themselves, the Old Ones clawed their way through the grass toward safety, but it was no use. The blood of the Omega and the poison of the River Styx kept them bound, Hades’ dark tentacles of smoke barred any escape, and the floodgates opened, sucking them in.
Minotaur threw himself into a crouch, fighting against the wind as his brethren began to disappear into midair, the portal drinking them down, but Hades drove the pitchfork into the ground as an anchor. She clung to it for dear life, yet it was not survival in her eyes but a goodbye. Across the field, Alkaios had recovered from his brutal assault enough to stand, and Kerberos and Chimera supported his weakened body as he rose. Keres and Hydra settled behind them, and the people who loved Hades the most watched as their salvation clawed at Hades, desperate to rip her away to an eternity of fear. Hades met each of their gazes, pausing to witness the love and sorrow in their eyes, and then she turned her features upon Alkaios. Among the chaos and screams, the couple stood solemn and stoic as if they were alone. Hades’ knuckles drained of color as she gripped her weapon, but her gaze did not falter. A savage wind pummeled her body, and her legs staggered with its force. Alkaios’ breath caught in his throat, yet still her gaze did not falter. Tears pooled in their eyes, and Alkaios slowly lifted a palm to his heart. He clutched his chest as if he could carve the organ out and send it into the madness with his wife, and Hades bit her lip to keep from shattering. Despite their hopes for salvation, it was not meant to be. This was the last time Hades would look upon Alkaios, and her heart broke. It shattered like glass against the rocks, yet still her gaze did not falter. They were in this together, husband and wife, refusing to part until the end.
Minotaur clawed through the howling gale toward his Omega as his race disappeared. He would snap her neck while an anguished husband watched, and then he would claw his way forward and fracture the so-called three greats’ spines. Yet as he moved amidst the wailing wind, no one noticed his crouched crawl through the chaos, their focus instead on the raven-haired woman they were about to lose.
Hades’ footing stumbled as the portal grew in strength, and Zeus knew she could not hold out much longer. His eyes flicked to Alkaios’ distraught face only to be distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye. A tearful Artemis, with the support of Apollo and Aphrodite, had lifted herself into a seat. Her bow was raised, its aim for Hades’ heart. The promise Zeus made her swear rung in his brain, and with sudden clarity, Zeus knew that although death would be a better end than being trapped with these monsters, he could not allow that to happen. Watching Hades standing within her fate, resolved to suffer for their freedom, emotion overwhelmed him. He hated Alkaios for capturing her love, but with him, she was happy. Hades was her true self, a woman about to be blessed with motherhood. Zeus could endure Alkaios’ stealing her, but he could not bear the knowledge of what losing her to these demons would mean for Hades. With all the power he possessed, Zeus hoisted his thunderbolt heavenward.
“What are you doing?” Poseidon bellowed over the roaring wind, forcing his trident harder into the blood marks.
“What needs to be done,” Zeus said. An electrical current charged the air, surrounding the battered bodies of his brethren, and he cast the Olympians from where they lay collapsed in exhausted heaps. Medusa would need their help to hold the door firm until they trapped the mad gods inside, sealed away for all eternity, and Zeus sent the gods to her aid. At their disappearance, Zeus drew a bolt of lightning from the sky and whipped it at Hades who had finally succumbed to the trap’s power. The pitchfork had ripped free from the dirt’s hold, and Hades’ body gave in to the whipping wind. Like a lasso, the cra
ckling light ensnared her as she hurtled through the air, and as the last of the Old Ones vanished, Zeus pulled with all his might. Hades flew forward and disappeared with a boom of thunder as the wind of the portal died.
The field before him fell still. Its scorched and bloody grass stood empty, all within the trap shoved violently back into their own realm save Hades who Zeus had sent away… and Minotaur, who at that last moment realized Zeus meant to spare his Omega and grasped her heel just as she vanished.
XXXIII
“Hold!” Poseidon hurled his frame against the gate as the door pitched, sending a ripple through the Olympians as they clambered to regain their pressure. They only had to survive until Zeus joined them, and then with the shedding of blood, the king of the gods would bind those hellish monsters in their realm of chaos. The door heaved again, and both Poseidon and Alkaios threw their mass against it, a snarl seeping through Alkaios’ gritted teeth as the Olympians shoved their weight into his back. He welcomed their brutal demand against his spine, the pain drowning out the nausea churning his gut at the thought of Hades’ final moments. Suddenly the power in the room shifted, and with a rush of air, Zeus was beside them, broad palms slamming against the gate in resistance.
“Seal it!” Poseidon bellowed over the deafening anger on the opposite side of the stone.
“I can’t!” Zeus strained against the door.
“What do you mean?”
“Minotaur escaped the trap. He is not behind this.”
“What!” Alkaios jerked back to look at Zeus. Without his strength, the door lurched under the Old One’s pressure, and the Olympians dove forward, scrambling to shove it into place.
“I was trying to save Hades!” Zeus strained, his skin flushing red with exertion. “Alkaios, you were right. I was too selfish and arrogant to see it, but you were right. She does not deserve an eternity of madness locked behind this seal. I could not condemn her to this horror, so I sent her away. I will not let one of us suffer, and despite her lineage, Hades is one of us, my brother’s wife.” At his words, Zeus sliced his hand over the tip of the thunderbolt and extended it to a gaped-mouth Alkaios. “Become my brother in blood, King of the Underworld,” Zeus continued, shoulder pressed against the door as he waited. “We will never be great if we allow hatred to fester. Both the Old Ones and the Titans allowed pride and rage to be their downfall. Let us not follow in their footsteps. The Olympians will be the last and final race of gods.”
Alkaios slammed his mouth closed, though shock and relief still lingered in his eyes as he twisted against the heaving door and pressed his spine against it. He reached past Poseidon and dragged his palm over the thunderbolt, blood springing dark from his flesh.
“I stand with you.” Alkaios seized Zeus’ hand. With a wordless nod, Zeus turned from the King of the Underworld to the lord of the seas. His eyebrows rose in a question, and Poseidon shifted so that he might reach the thunderbolt.
“Always, brother.” In a flash, Poseidon sliced his skin on the tip and placed his bloody flesh atop Alkaios and Zeus’ joined fists. The instant the greats connected, wind whipped through the room and silenced even the raging Old Ones for the briefest moment. The electric power singed the air at their pact, and as their hands parted, two brothers became three.
“How did saving Hades allow Minotaur to escape?” Poseidon asked as the door resumed its violent pitching.
“He saw I meant to pull her from the trap. He grabbed hold of her as I freed her.”
“You what?” Medusa screamed suddenly beside them, her snaking hair writhing about her body.
“I will not condemn her…” Zeus started.
“This is not about Hades!” Medusa’s human shape trembled. “She was willing to sacrifice herself for our salvation, but by selfishly saving her to appease your guilt, you have allowed him to be free… the one we cannot afford to let live among us.”
“You, Gorgon, do not command me…”
“You destroyed our last chance at survival,” she screamed in desperation as her body began to shimmer, and all watched in horror as she shifted to her true self.
“Eyes down!” Alkaios bellowed as Medusa launched herself at Zeus.
In the split second before the Gorgon slammed into him, Zeus saw the blood that oozed from her scales and the bald patches atop her skull where patched of the snakes had been ripped out. He understood the pain she had endured to keep the door closed before the Olympians had arrived and the unending, lonely torture she had survived to stand guard over this seal after the Old Ones’ fall. As Zeus thudded to the stone and his eyes clenched shut, he knew her anger was not waged over Hades’ escape but over the burden she had been forced to bear for centuries.
“Medusa!” Zeus shouted as he fought blindly against her clawing fingers.
“You have killed us all!” Medusa screamed over his voice, her body pressing him into the cold floor. “For an eternity I guarded this temple! I was all that stood between mankind and annihilation before Hades unleashed their poison upon the world. We had one last chance to put this right, and you ruined it with your foolishness!”
Hearing the escalation in her voice, Alkaios dared to flick his eyes in their direction. A sigh of relief rushed through him when he saw her back, and with all the strength within him, Alkaios bolted forward. He flew across the stone, Ares and Apollo surging to hold the door in his stead as the rest pressed in behind them. With a jarring crash, Alkaios’ large frame barreled into Medusa and wrenched her from atop Zeus. The Gorgon’s scream split the air as she thrashed her massive serpentine body, yet Alkaios held firm, his arms restraining her in a prison of his flesh.
“Get the door!” Alkaios ordered Zeus who had already scrambled to his feet, but he had barely moved across the floor when the gate heaved. It threw the straining Olympians backward, and with clawing fingers, the faceless Old One forced it wide to release his grotesque form. The howl that ripped from his split and featureless face shattered the air, and the serpents about Medusa’s head hissed, their small voices echoing her anguish. The snakes turned their fangs upon Alkaios and plunged them into his flesh. His breath sucked past his teeth as the pain involuntarily loosened his grip. Medusa bucked free and in a heartbeat, was upright, slithering with alarming speed. The snakes atop her crown surged about her neck, and with a bloodcurdling scream, she leveled her gaze on the rogue Old One.
The effect was instant. The deformed god’s green-scaled muscles hardened until his blood-warmed skin was cold, solid stone and his clawing talons froze in their hunt for flesh. Zeus and Alkaios balked with slackened jaws, momentarily forgetting to avert their eyes. They followed in awe as Medusa’s thick, coiling tail flicked forward and collided with the petrified statue, shattering him into a thousand fragments of rubble. A shock of violent rage and pain jolted through the realm on the opposing side of the door at the loss of their brethren, and Zeus barely threw himself against the entrance in time to push it back into its frame as the Old Ones clambered to regain access to the world.
“You have doomed us!” Medusa started again, anguish and dread consuming her. “With both Hades and Minotaur free, they will re-break this seal!” Her voice escalated in panicked waves as she dove for Zeus, and his sight dropped to the floor to keep from meeting the same horrific fate as the shattered wreckage at his feet.
“Medusa, stop!” Alkaios bolted for her. Fear was devouring her, her mind overrun, but even as he flew through the air, eyes clenched, Medusa coiled her immense, scaled body and struck. Her tail slammed into Alkaios’ core and hurled him into the temple wall. The stone cracked against his spine as his collision punched an indent into its ancient surface. His breath left him in sputtering coughs as he toppled to the floor. Alkaios had to quell Medusa’s panic before she destroyed any hopes they had at trapping the Old Ones, yet as he struggled to his feet, a hellish snarl ripped through the halls.
Alkaios’ eyes snapped up in time to see Kerberos’s hulking mass crash into Medusa’s Gorgon shape. His brut
al strength drove her to the ground, and with a growl, he pinned her head with his spiked tail. Medusa flailed, yet she was no match for the hellhound’s might, and after long struggling moments, she collapsed in defeat. Sobs ripped from her mouth as she shook beneath the dog, all the fight evaporated from her muscles.
“You have doomed us!” The Gorgon cried. “All my years for nothing. You destroyed it with your selfishness.”
“Not necessarily,” came a deep voice, and the power in the atmosphere shifted. Something the Olympians had not felt in centuries.
XXXIV
Hades groaned, her lungs expelling air in ragged pants. Her back ached as she lay sprawled in the grass, the force of the impact wreaking havoc on her body. Her skin crawled with the electric jolt of Zeus’ thunderbolt, and her fingers clung to her womb protectively as if the lightning had burned her son.
A sudden shift beside her was all the warning Hades received before a heavy hand was atop her stomach, clawing at the fabric of her dress. Frantically, Hades scrambled back, palms and heels gouging the dirt as she crawled, but Minotaur already had a hold of the cloth. With violence, he cleaved the front of her garment in two, revealing the subtle swelling of the child within her. Instantly his face darkened, evil seeping from every pore on his blood bathed skin. Hades vaulted backward, snatching the pitchfork as she found her footing before the Alpha.
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