Zorya's world narrowed to a blur of chaos and adrenaline as the battlefield erupted around her.

Screams, clashing weapons, and the thunderous impact of powers colliding filled the air. The lines between allies and enemies blurred in the chaos, and her focus locked solely on Persephone.

She saw it—the moment Hades threw his bident, the weapon slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Athena's sharp reflexes saved her, but Zorya's heart leapt into her throat as Persephone seized her chance. Using her cuffs to hook onto the weapon, her Queen soared through the air towards them.

Relief mixed with dread as Zorya watched Persephone's defiant leap. She's free—

But Athena reacted swiftly, lunging after Persephone, only to be intercepted by Demeter's wrathful vines.

The nymph felt a pang of satisfaction as the goddess of wisdom was slammed into the cliffside, but it was fleeting. Persephone might be free for now, but the battle was far from over—it had just begun.

Persephone's escape ignited the battlefield into chaos, and Zorya moved. Her blade sliced through the air with deadly efficiency, cutting down anyone foolish enough to cross her path. Her focus split between the fray and her ultimate goal—the Eleusinian Stone.

She knew Hades would prioritise Persephone's safety, but Zorya couldn't ignore the significance of the stone. Its power was a dangerous wild card in this chaotic melee. Besides, it was the reason for her mission in the first place—secure the Stone, so Hades could get it.

She slid to a halt, her eyes scanning the battlefield. Apollo and Hestia hurled fire at anyone who came too close to the stone. Artemis and the girl she crossed paths with earlier—Lyra, if she recalled correctly—were working together, shooting arrows with deadly accuracy.

She caught sight of Seraphim ahead, already racing towards the stone. She didn't stay close—there was no need. By now, they had fought side by side often enough to anticipate each other's moves without speaking.

His methods were brutal, unrelenting, and she wouldn't call him an ally in the traditional sense, but in moments like these, his presence and determination to finish their task was something she could rely on.

Instead, she darted between combatants, weaving her shadows into short bursts of armour and sharp-edged projectiles.

One soldier aimed for her with a spear, but she spun low, her dagger catching the weapon and twisting it free from his grasp. She lashed out with a whip of shadows, catching the soldier's legs and sending him sprawling.

The chaos was endless, and her stamina was already starting to wane. But she didn't stop.

Ahead, she saw Seraphim closing in on the Stone. At the same time, Hermes streaked across the battlefield, his path cleared by Seraphim's bident—the god ducked and the weapon struck the guardian before him, instead.

The warrior crumpled, allowing the messenger god to grasp the Stone. Zorya cursed under her breath as the messenger god seized the Stone, a pulse of energy rippling outward as his speed increased to impossible levels, making it nearly impossible to track his movement, even by the gods.

Hades surged forward, his dark energy crackling like a storm as he tried to reclaim the stone. The god's fury was palpable, and his inability to keep up with Hermes only added fuel to the fire.

"Damn it," she hissed, gripping her dagger tighter.

A flash of motion above caught her attention—Athena, freed from Demeter's vines, soared on her Pegasus towards Hermes. Zor Zorya's jaw tightened as panic coiled in her gut. No! Not her! If the Stone ended up in Athena's hands, the Underworld's chances would plummet.

But before Athena could reach Hermes, Aphrodite's tornado tore through the battlefield, scattering gods and mortals alike.

Zorya stumbled, the winds tearing at her clothes and sending her hair whipping into her face. She dug her heels into the ground, using shadows to anchor herself as she braced against the gusts.

The tornado struck Hermes, knocking him off course and sending him crashing to the ground. The stone flew from his grasp, tumbling through the air, and Zorya's eyes followed its arc as it landed in the centre of a clearing. She surged forward, trying to reach it before anyone else.

However, Seraphim and Ares were faster, both of them lunging for the Stone. Zorya's heart pounded as her eyes locked on the demon. He reached it first, his hands curling around it.

But Ares wasn't going to let him keep it. The god of war charged, hammer swinging with brutal force.

The nymph tensed, half-ready to intervene, but before the blow could land, a bolt of lightning struck Ares square in the chest.

Her eyes snapped to Heron. He stood tall, his hand still outstretched, the power fading from his fingers. The silent exchange between him and Seraphim wasn't lost on her. For a moment, Zorya felt a strange mix of awe and gratitude. Despite everything Seraphim had done to him, Heron still helped him.

But there was no time to dwell on it. As Seraphim moved to grab the stone, vines erupted from the ground, ensnaring him. The vines wrapped around Seraphim's bident, pressing it threateningly against his throat.

Demeter stood nearby, her expression cold and furious.

The nymph's mind raced, her instincts screaming at her to intervene.

"Enough," Zorya growled, her voice low but carrying over the din.

She stepped forward, her shadows coiling protectively around her form. They would do little to shield her against the goddess' powers, but they did give the nymph a small confidence and energy boost, which she desperately needed in that moment.

"Stay out of this, nymph," Demeter hissed.

But Zorya had no intention of listening to her. She surged forward, her dagger flashing as its sharp edge sliced through the first tendrils. But the damaged plants were replaced almost as quickly as they were damaged, growing stronger and thicker.

Demeter's gaze snapped toward her, cold and furious, and Zorya felt a pulse of power radiate from the goddess, strong enough to make her knees tremble. But she held firm, twisting her whip into a blade and lunging forward.

The goddess' eyes snapped to Zorya, blazing with fury.

"You dare?" Demeter spat, her power flaring as more vines lashed out toward Zorya.

Zorya ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the attack. She came up in a crouch, her blade at the ready.

"I dare," she said, her voice cold. "I don't answer to you."

She threw the shard of starlight, and it exploded into smaller fragments midair, shredding the nearest vines.

Demeter's gaze burned, and the next wave of tendrils was faster, thicker, and more aggressive. Zorya twisted her shadows into a shield, absorbing the brunt of the attack, but it left her winded.

Demeter's control over nature was immense, and Zorya could feel the limits of her own power pressing down on her. But she wasn't about to back down—not with Persephone and the Stone both on the line.

She darted forward, using her shadows to propel her in quick bursts. Her dagger sliced through a particularly thick vine, and she called on starlight to reinforce her defences.

The combination of light and shadow was disorienting, even for a goddess, and Zorya used the opening to close the distance.

Demeter's gaze locked on hers, cold and furious. Zorya knew she couldn't win a prolonged fight against the goddess, but she didn't need to. All she needed was to tip the scales, to buy enough time for Seraphim—or someone else—to act.

"I won't repeat myself again," Zorya growled, her voice cutting through the chaos, "Let him go."

Suddenly, the battlefield churned like a storm, chaos consuming everything in sight. Zorya's focus narrowed as Poseidon's arrival shifted the tides—literally.

The god's massive stingray cut through the battlefield like a blade The wave that followed crashed over cliffs, sweeping soldiers and gods off their feet, dragging them into disarray.

Zorya braced herself, shadows coiling around her feet to anchor her as the wave slammed into her. The sting of saltwater and the deafening roar of the tide drowned out everything else. She steadied herself, her chest heaving, scanning the scene for the Eleusinian Stone.

There—washed up near Heron.

The demigod reached for the it and Zorya's breath caught as she saw him hesitate, his movements slowed by something deeper than the chaos around him.

But just as he was about to grab it, a soldier lunged for him. Zorya's muscles tensed to move, but Seraphim acted first. His bident flew, cutting the attacker down in an instant. Zorya's eyes flicked to Seraphim, catching the exchange of nods between him and Heron.

The moment passed, and Heron's indecision crumbled. Zorya saw it happen—the shift in his posture, the realisation of what would come next. His fingers closed around the Stone.

The surge of power was immediate. Lightning erupted from Heron, crackling across the battlefield in brilliant, jagged arcs.

Zorya winced, shielding her eyes from the blinding light, the electric charge in the air raising the hairs on her arms.

She felt the shift ripple through the battlefield, a collective hesitation among the gods. Their certainty faltered, replaced by fear. That kind of power wasn't meant for mortals, no matter their lineage. Heron might have inherited Zeus's abilities, but he was no god.

But while the gods hesitated, but their warriors didn't. They surged forward like waves crashing against a shore, undeterred by the destruction of their comrades.

Zorya kept her distance, her own fight shifting as she moved closer to the brothers. Not to protect them—she had no interest in playing bodyguard—but because if Seraphim was going to throw himself into something reckless, it was better to have a buffer.

When Heron's power lashed out again, gods and mortals alike were thrown back. The nymph skidded to a halt, shadows bracing her as Ares hit the ground, unmoving.

Hera flinched as lightning ripped through the air, stopping just short of striking her. The goddess's mask of composure cracked for a moment, and Zorya caught the flicker of fear in her eyes.

Then Heron hesitated, his gaze locking on the Queen of Heavens. The air thickened, and Zorya felt it—the rage simmering inside him, the temptation to unleash everything he had on her.

Seraphim moved closer, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Do it. For our mother," he snarled, his tone raw and sharp.

Zorya watched, her chest tightening. She knew that tone—had heard it before. Seraphim's pain, buried under layers of bitterness and cruelty, slipping through the cracks. She glanced between him and Heron, noticing the way Seraphim's words hit their mark.

Heron's face twisted, a storm of emotions playing across it. Rage, grief, doubt.

It made Zorya's grip tighten on her blade. She knew from experience that when such power and emotions were mixed, things tended to go sideways. And she desperately hoped she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.

Heron raised his hand, power gathering in his palm. Zorya tensed, ready to react if this spiralled out of control.

But the lightning shot over Hera's head, harmless.

"I forgo revenge," he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging in him. "You spoke the truth, Hera."

The battlefield stilled, the silence pressing down on them like a weight. The gods' expressions ranged from wary to stunned, but Zorya kept her eyes on Seraphim.

His mask was back, cold and unreadable, but she saw the brief flicker of disappointment—or was it relief?—in his eyes before it disappeared.

A ripple of movement caught her attention, and Zorya's shadows coiled defensively as an Underworld warrior materialised behind Heron, blade drawn. No one even had the time to move, before the demigod turned, vaporising the attacker with a flicker of lightning.

"Don't mistake my kindness for weakness," Heron said, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "Weak is not how they will remember me. I would rather you remember me for something called... forgiveness."

Zorya rolled her eyes, irritation bubbling in her chest. Forgiveness wasn't a luxury anyone on this field could afford—not her, not Seraphim, and definitely not Heron. But she didn't linger on the thought, her focus shifting back to Seraphim.

The demon hadn't moved, his expression still a mask, but Zorya saw his jaw clench. He wouldn't say anything, not now. But he'd felt something—she was sure of it.

But the demigod wasn't done yet.

"Which means I will wipe the slate clean for all those who have wronged me," he declared. "Nothing can be undone. But this is how we can move forward."

Then, he turned to face Hades and Persephone.

"All I ask is that you do as you promised for Seraphim."

Zorya raised a brow at him. He was trying to make peace, to put an end to all the madness. He wanted the gods to return to their realms, to stop the endless fighting. Something that even Zeus didn't manage.

But then, she caught the brief exchange between Hades and Persephone, the unspoken agreement passing between them. The shadows around her stirred uneasily. She frowned when she felt it, but quickly shook it off.

Hades vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing before Seraphim mere seconds later. The god held out a small bottle, so very similar to the one Zorya usually carried with her.

This was the goal Seraphim had been working towards. He finally achieved it. She glanced up at him, offering the smallest of smiles and put a hand on his shoulder.

The demon barely spared her a glance, too hypnotized with the small vial offered to him. He didn't actually believe he might ever earn it. And yet, there he was.

He quickly took it and secured it on his belt. He gave Hades a small nod, before looking towards Zorya.

The nymph almost missed the smallest hint of smiles that pulled at the corner of his lips and the satisfied glint in his eyes. The demon's mask of indifference was slipping. Seraphim's internal war was always there, but it was clearer now than ever.

He would never admit it aloud, but there was something different in the way he watched his brother now—a protective streak, raw and real.

Zorya almost snorted at the irony. Seraphim was so good at hiding things, so adept at twisting his emotions into something cold, but even she could see the cracks.

And from the way he was staring at Heron, the way his posture had softened just a fraction, Zorya knew—he cared. Maybe not in the way the others expected, but it was there. It was something to keep in mind.

Ares stepped forward then, his voice dripping with disdain. Zorya couldn't help the way her lips curled slightly at the sound of his words. There was no love lost between her and Ares—none for anyone, really, but him especially.

His arrogance was as thick as ever, and she wondered if he truly believed his words held any weight. He was always looking for a fight. It didn't matter who it was with, as long as he had an excuse to swing his sword.

"Who are you to decide anything? Bastard," Ares sneered.

Zorya saw the way Seraphim's hand tightened on his bident, but Poseidon's intervention was quick, the sea god's presence commanding as he stepped in to defend Heron.

"Mind your tongue, Ares," the sea god's grip on his trident tightened. "Don't be a fool."

Heron didn't even flinch at the growing tension. He looked Ares dead in the eye, his voice steady as he addressed the war god, trying to calm the situation.

"Enough. No more," he said, before turning to Ares. "I don't want more conflict, brother. But we cannot allow the world to descend into chaos."

His words made sense—of course they did—but Zorya couldn't help but feel a little detached from all of it. The gods were all the same, spinning their webs of power, doing whatever they could to maintain control. They would never listen.

But she could feel the way the energy shifted as Heron addressed the gathering, his gaze sweeping over everyone—landing on each of the gods he named. A final resolution, as though his words had the power to make it so.

"The Olympians must return to Olympus, Poseidon to the sea, and Hades... to the Underworld," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Zorya's eyes flicked to Hades as he heard Heron's words. There was something darker in his gaze now, something that made Zorya's pulse quicken in response.

Hades and Persephone—bound by the cruel rules of the Underworld, separated for half the year.

She knew their pain, had seen it countless times, though she would never speak of it. Hades was a king, but he was also a prisoner, trapped by the very system he ruled.

Zorya couldn't help the bitterness that bubbled inside her. Everything she went through in the last few days—all for nothing. Nothing had changed, the rules were still dictated by someone else.

But then, Hades' face shifted. The nymph's instincts flared. There was something dark in Hades' gaze, something that Zorya recognized immediately. Regret. Pain. The longing to change things. To break free from the chains that bound him.

It didn't take long for the truth to reveal itself.

The moment Heron turned back to face Hades, the god stepped forward. Zorya's breath caught. She knew what was coming. Betrayal. The cold edge of a dagger was unmistakable, even from where she stood. She didn't even have time to react.

"Forgive me," was all Hades said, before he drove the knife into Heron's chest

There was no hesitation in the strike, yet there was something human in the way Hades performed it. Like the weight of it crushed him just as much as it did Heron. A single tear fell from Hades' eye as the blade sank into Heron's chest.

The gasp of shock that ran through the crowd seemed distant, muted to Zorya. Her heart stilled, her focus on the god and the demigod in the middle of the storm. She felt something stir within her. It wasn't pity. It was danger. The battlefield was about to tip into chaos.

Heron's eyes widened, his body trembling as the life drained from him. The Eleusinian Stone—its immense power—slipped from his grasp, the stone's light fading as it hit the ground.

The once-mighty demigod crumpled, his blood soaking into his tunic, staining it a sickening red.

Zorya stood frozen for a moment, but only for a moment. She wasn't interested in mourning Heron, nor was she going to wade through the gods' endless drama. Her mind, however, was already whirling with the implications.

Seraphim.

Her eyes flicked to the demon. She knew he'd been watching, but had he been expecting this? His expression was unreadable, but Zorya saw the muscle in his jaw twitch, saw the way his fingers curled at his sides, and it was clear—this was a turning point.

Zorya could feel the tension in his body. He had wanted this—he had wanted his brother's fall. And yet, now that it was happening, she saw something else in his eyes. Confusion? Regret? She couldn't be sure. He didn't want to be soft, didn't want to care. But it was there.

Heron's body crumpled to the ground, and the silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

A woman with black hair was the first to break the silence. Her scream, raw and guttural, tore through the quiet like a blade.

Zorya flinched at the sound, her heart aching for the woman whose pain was as palpable as the devastation around them. A bond had formed there, strong and undeniable, she thought, the anguish radiating from the woman like an uncontainable wave. She cared for him. She must have loved him.

The second to react was the goddess who had been standing beside Apollo—Lyra, Zorya remembered. Her expression was all too clear. Anger, rage, grief, all rolling into one. She surged forward, her eyes blazing with unrestrained fury, aimed squarely at Hades.

The air around the goddess seemed to hum with energy, filled with a grief so powerful it made Zorya's chest tighten. Zorya could feel it, feel the loss crawling under Lyra's skin, gnawing at her from within. No one deserved to feel that kind of pain—not even the gods.

Apollo was quick to act, stepping in to restrain the grieving goddess. Zorya could see the pain on his face, the way he held her close, his voice soft and pleading as he tried to calm her down.

Everyone couldn't help but feel helpless as Lyra's powers surged. She was trying to heal what couldn't be healed, trying to restore something that had already slipped beyond her grasp.

No amount of light or warmth could undo what had been done.

"Lyra, stop," Apollo pleaded, his voice breaking as he held her tighter.

Lyra's light faded slowly, and with it, the intensity of her struggles. Zorya watched her, silent, as the goddess fell into a painful stillness. The light dimmed, and only the weight of sorrow remained.

Then, the tremor in the earth beneath them caught Zorya off guard. The ground shook with a force that made her bones ache, a sound like thunder rumbled through the very air. Something was coming.

"No!" Gaia's voice cracked the silence, her anger ringing through the air like the roar of a storm.

Zorya's eyes widened as the goddess of the Earth appeared before them in a flash of brilliant green light. The sheer force of her presence made the nymph's skin prickle, a sensation both unnerving and powerful.

Gaia's gaze swept across them all, her judgement heavy and unyielding. Zorya instinctively took a step back, her heart fluttering like a bird caught in a cage.

The primordial goddess's fury was impossible to ignore, and the nymph could feel the weight of her words as if they were a physical force, pressing against her chest.

She glanced quickly at Seraphim, noting how still he stood, how silent and unmoving.

"None of you deserve this! None of you!" Gaia's voice rang out, sharp as a blade. "First it was Zeus with all his philandering and disloyalty. And then Hera. You took his wrongdoing to the other extreme. Unleashing death and destruction on your own home."

Her words were unforgiving, and Zorya understood why. What had they all become? They had turned their backs on each other, destroyed what had once held them together. This was the culmination of their betrayals and lies.

"And now you, Hades, fail again. You cheat and you backstab a noble hero, while those you conspire with poison the world."

Zorya couldn't help but flinch when Gaia's gaze landed on Demeter. Even though she was no the one that glare was levelled at, she could almost feel the intensity of it.

"You've brought this upon yourselves. I speak the name no one speaks. And with it, the reign of the Olympians is no more!" Gaia announced and Zorya's breath caught in her throat.

She was born long after the beast was defeated, but she knew the stories really well. And in that moment, her worst nightmares were about to become reality, as Gaia called out the name of a force none of them could control. The name she spoke with such finality.

"Typhon."

The earth shook beneath them. Zorya's chest tightened, the air itself becoming thick with the weight of the name. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

She knew it—no one could ignore its weight, its power. It haunted every god, every soul that had ever known its story.

The Eleusinian Stone in Hades' hand pulsed with a red glow, its power growing with every passing second. Zorya's pulse quickened.

"Typhon."

Gaia spoke the name a second time, and the ground cracked even more violently beneath them. The Stone splintered, and the magic of it soared upward, tendrils of red power shooting out toward the heavens.

"Typhon!"

The final call echoed through the land, and Zorya could feel it—the shift. It wasn't just the gods' world that was in danger now, but the very fabric of their existence.

"The time has come for the Titans to return!"

Zorya knew this. She knew it in her bones. There was no going back. Typhon was no mere myth, no legend lost to time. He was real. And he was coming.

The Titans would return, and with them, all the destruction and chaos that came with their awakening.

Zorya could feel the pain, the hope, and the sorrow in the very air. But above all, she felt the uncertainty—this was something none of them were ready for. And as she stood there, her heart aching for the uncertain future that awaited them all, Zorya knew one thing—nothing would ever be the same again.

***************

A/N: And that's all.

... For now.

This story will be on hold until the season 3 is released and when it is, I will continue this story. For now, I'm taking a quick break from writing, catch up on some school work. Then, I'll be working on the third (and probably final), story in this series. The title is going to be 'Shadows of Discord' and it will follow Ismene's story.

So, that's it for now. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed

See you in the next story <3