The structure itself was almost as formidable as those who occupied it; golden marble and stone, with flecks of gold and silver that sparkled and shone in the sunlight. The pillars that held it up were sure and strong, similar to those who had created the beautiful mausoleum, just like those who inhabited it. It's beauty was certainly undeniable, just as those it existed for.

The gardens that surrounded it were plentiful and gorgeous, full of greenery and bursts of color. There was the orchard to one side, which if you wandered far enough, you might find Hera's tree of golden apples, but only a peek, for it was guarded well, as any gift of such value would be. The rest was surrounded with flowers of every type, there for anyone to admire and walk through.

Indeed, it was a pleasant place to arrive to, even more pleasant to reside at, but it belonged to a selfish, foolish group of beings who were soon about to experience their demise.

On the day of the event that reeked havoc and chaos amongst them, it had been ordinary, and nearly even peaceful. Startlingly, not a fight had broken at all between any of the gods, which in itself was a miracle considering tensions were almost always high between all of them. Zeus could hardly recall a day where they had not been at each other's throats.

Even Hera, who was known for quarreling with her husband, had been rather withdrawn. And Ares with his notorious temper and blood lust, was retired to his chambers, claiming he was feeling under the weather after a particularly rough battle. In such circumstances, Athena would mock him, but the wise goddess hadn't been present at the time, instead with Artemis, preparing for a Hunt.

So, it was quiet, and peaceful, and it was almost as if Olympus had finally found harmony. Most would have accepted this with open arms, finding it exciting and enjoyable, but Zeus, who was rather awful at being a King of all Gods, was at unease. He had made foolish decisions in the past, but there was something about the unnatural stillness that put him at edge; they'd had close to peaceful days before, but none such like this, therefore making him rather suspicious.

"Zeus," Hera said, her voice holding an uncharacteristic amount of patience when it came to her husband. "What is ever the matter? You look as if something terrible is going to happen."

"That's it," he had responded. "I feel as if something greatly horrible is going to happen."

And while he was foolish and irresponsible when it came to most situations, for once, Zeus had been correct.

Right as the King of The Gods had begun to relax, allowing himself to believe that his paranoia was all in his head, created by the stress he had been experiencing lately, in strolled the three lovely ladies that most referred to as The Fates.

They donned sinister smiles, even as they bowed before their king, and took a seat. The smile was not only mocking, but haunting, a tell tale sign that things were not quite right. The three ladies gave no time for Zeus to inquire about their visit, they dove straight into The Prophecy, speaking in unison. Alone, each of their voices had a musical touch to them, but together it was like a hypnotic song, telling of either wonderous or awful events.

Zeus and Hera listened carefully, at first confused of the tale being spun, but then shocked and horrified at the final words.

Immortal blood will be spilled.

The royal couple sputtered and stammered, flushing from fear, trying to make sense of what they had been informed of. They were immortals; there was no possible way for them to die. As much as they wanted to understand, they just couldn't fully find reason in the prophecy. The Fates departed just as quickly as they had arrived, their faces frozen in a twisted, unnatural smile.

It was only seconds after The Fates had disappeared from sight when the ground shook, and the walls of the great Olympus Hall, began to crack and shudder. Flashes of terror came across Hera and Zeus's faces as they threw themselves to their feet, prepared to fight whatever it was that had come to bring destruction upon them.

And yet, somehow, they were not quite so prepared to be faced by their father's face, full of mocking joy.

"Hello, children," Cronus crooned as his fist closed around Hera's delicate throat. "Daddy's home, and he's here to return to his throne."

But that is not what happened, now is it?

For if the Titans had been returned to power, the Earth would be in ruins.

In fear and terror, a lightening bolt of Zeus struck the sky, blinding everyone in the Olympus Hall. Darkness ensued, but the darkness was the least of their problems, as the floor they stood on gave out from beneath them, and their souls fell away, their powers dissolving in the atmosphere.

No longer were they immortal beings with a kingdom dedicated to them.

They were gods trapped in the bodies of mortals, screaming to return to their true forms, but unable to be heard, forever being reborn, eventually losing hope.

Until now.