The hall remained unnervingly silent. Even the flames in the torches flickered weakly, as if uncertain whether they should dare to exist in the presence of such beings.
Raezel met Nythren's gaze.
"Why do you want to live here? Among mortals?"
It was a simple question. But the weight behind it was suffocating.
Ares was still gripping his sword, but his once-burning confidence had been doused. The king stood frozen, torn between the overwhelming fear in his bones and the cold realization that his land had become a stage for titans.
Even Medusa, the ever-imposing figure of divine wrath, remained quiet.
Raezel took a slow breath.
"Because they live."
Nythren raised an eyebrow. A smirk teased at his lips.
"They live?"
Raezel nodded, stepping forward.
"We exist, Nythren. We rule, fight, destroy, and scheme. But mortals… they live. They dream, they love, they suffer, they struggle. Every choice they make has meaning because they know they will die one day. Every step they take is on borrowed time. That's what makes it real."
Ares' scowl deepened. "And what of power? What of dominion? The world bends to strength, not fleeting moments of mortality."
Nythren's dark, star-filled eyes narrowed.
Ares had spoken—but he had forgotten who he was speaking to.
The weight in the room shifted. Not visibly, not with force—but with presence. The kind of presence that turned kings into cowards and gods into shadows of their own arrogance.
"Ares."
Nythren's voice was calm. Smooth. Absolute.
"You dare speak against my brother?"
It wasn't a question. It was a warning.
Ares' fingers twitched.
Nythren took a slow, deliberate step forward.
"Surely, Raezel and I are not bound by blood, but our bond is stronger than anything Olympus could ever offer. You think power is all that matters? Then let me show you power, O God of War."
The air shifted.
Reality shuddered.
The very fabric of existence trembled under Nythren's presence, as if the universe itself bent around his will.
The mortals in the hall felt their knees buckle. Their lungs burned. Their bodies screamed in submission to something far beyond their understanding.
Even the serpents—who feared nothing—stilled.
"If my brother wished for it," Nythren said, his voice silk wrapped around steel, "I could make the sun rise at night and drown it in the day. I could tear the sky asunder and make the stars bow at his feet. I am the son of Nyx, the creation of the darkness. And you?"
He tilted his head slightly, gaze razor-sharp.
"You are a mere warrior."
Ares flinched.
For the first time in his immortal life, he felt something foreign claw at his chest.
Inferiority.
The serpents hissed in delight. Nihaga, wrapped protectively near Raezel, flicked his tongue mockingly.
"Tell me, O God of War," Nythren continued, "do you still wish to speak of power?"
Ares remained silent. His grip on his sword trembled.
Nythren smirked.
"I thought not."
The hall held its breath.
The king—who moments ago had contemplated whether it was possible to simply flee and abandon his own throne—found himself inching forward.
And then—
Medusa slowly raised her hand.
The choice was hers.
And Olympus itself would tremble at the answer.
The grand hall, once filled with tension so thick it could smother the gods themselves, took a sudden and unexpected turn.
Two figures stepped forward—Nyssa and Krios.
The air around them crackled, not with divine power, but with something far more dangerous.
Sibling fury.
Nythren, the Prince of Darkness, the son of Nyx, who had just reduced the God of War to insignificance, suddenly found himself at the receiving end of two very displeased expressions.
Nyssa crossed her arms, her piercing eyes narrowing. "And what about us, dear brother Nythren?"
Krios, standing beside her, nodded with a smirk that wasn't quite a smirk. "Yes, dear brother. We were just wondering… are you always this devoted to Raezel? Or do you, by any chance, remember that you have other siblings as well?"
Silence.
A moment ago, Nythren had stood unshaken in the face of war itself.
Ares, son of Zeus, had been reduced to nothing beneath his words.
And yet, now—
Nythren shifted. His fingers twitched. His eyes darted ever so slightly, looking for a possible escape route.
He cleared his throat. "I… I love you too, my dearest."
Nyssa and Krios stared.
Nythren tried again, flashing his usual dark, confident grin. "Truly, with all my heart."
Still, silence.
Then—
"We don't think so."
The two took a step closer. The Prince of Darkness, the terror of mortals, the nightmare of gods—took a step back.
Nihaga, still coiled beside Raezel, flicked his tongue in amusement. "Oh? The mighty Nythren, retreating?"
The serpents hissed in laughter.
Even Medusa, usually a picture of regal calm, raised an eyebrow.
Raezel folded his arms, amused. "This is interesting."
Nythren's jaw tightened. His siblings never let things go. He knew this. He had been cursed with this knowledge since the day they were born.
"You always side with Raezel." Nyssa's voice was light, but her eyes were not.
"Yes, always." Krios agreed. "So tell us, dear brother, where exactly do we stand?"
Nythren did not like where this was going.
He was feared by Olympus.
But in this moment, he feared his siblings more.
Ares, still standing awkwardly in the background, observed the entire scene with the most baffled expression.
He had nearly died.
He had been humiliated beyond words.
And yet, the entire room had forgotten him because, apparently, Nythren's family drama was more important.
Ares blinked. "…Should I leave?"
Nihaga turned to him and flicked his tongue. "Stay. This is the best part."
The mortals, the king included, were still too overwhelmed to breathe properly, but a few of them had started whispering among themselves.
"Are gods… always like this?"
Nyssa and Krios took one final step forward.
Nythren knew defeat when he saw it.
He sighed. Deeply. Then placed a hand over his heart and lowered his head.
"Nyssa. Krios. My dearest. My moon and my shadow. My light and my storm. How foolish of me to forget to express my love for you, my treasured siblings."
They squinted at him.
Nythren pressed on. "Surely, you know that my heart holds no favorites. That Raezel is my brother, but you—oh, you two—are my soul."
Nyssa and Krios narrowed their eyes.
Nythren swallowed. "My… very breath?"
Nyssa raised an eyebrow.
Nythren panicked.
"My eternal nightmares?"
Silence.
Then, Krios grinned.
Nyssa sighed.
"…Fine."
Nythren exhaled heavily.
Ares blinked. "Wait, that's it? That worked?"
Nyssa turned to him and smiled.
It was not a friendly smile.
She took a step closer.
"Would you like to question it?"
Ares—who had challenged Medusa's son and survived by sheer luck—
Chose wisely for the first time in his life.
"…No."