The pessimistic in Ginrius expected the worst, only to be greeted by a still standing Underworld, with not one, not two, but a lot of reinforcement divinities in it. Hades made good on his word, though how he managed the feat to begin with remained as mysterious as his conditioner brand. Maybe it was this gathering that forced Zeus to postpone his rampage, because the world beyond stopped quaking as well. Whatever the case, it was one more welcome development.
As Ginrius walked out of Tartarus, he did a silent roll call on everyone present, noting the irony of seeing them as misplaced as he was on his first trip to Olympus—all glitz and glam in such dank, unfiltered setting. Topping the lineup was of course Poseidon, who stood out with his gleaming trident. Ares was also there, alongside his spouse, Aphrodite; Demeter who undoubtedly came for her daughter, Persephone; and Thanatos with his everlasting annoyance at everything not Hades. Aecus, Minos, and Rhadamanthus made the cut as well, perhaps more by residential requirement than actual fealty to the cause.
He would later learn that other A-listers pledged their allegiance too, despite their tardiness; the most notable being Artemis, Hecate, and Dionysus the party god. Gesturing everyone his respects, he approached Hades at his throne. "This many are actually fighting with us?"
The Undergod grinned like a sated black wolf. "There's more actually, and you'll get to meet them soon," he said. "We've existed for millennia, and with every rule, there's bound to be conflict. Take Ares for example, who wouldn't pass on a chance to engage Athena in the battlefield, and Poseidon who never forgot the humiliations he received from our younger brother. We all have our reasons for being here, but what matters most is the desire to stand together."
"We actually have a chance at this…" Ginrius said to himself.
"Not if you know how powerful our opponent really is." Hades just had to nerf him. Guess he won't be receiving best dad awards anytime soon. "We're talking about the one god who could handle all twelve Olympians singlehandedly."
Ginrius dwelled on the thought for a while, savoring it all the way to its crude aftertaste. Out of the aforementioned divinities, only five were present, the rest, including Athena, wisest of them all, and sun god Apollo, remaining loyal to their king. And to think that there were still equally terrifying deities out there like Hera and the recently elected god of strength, Heracles… Well, let's just say it was some serious rumination. "We're not even half of the required fighting force..."
"Don't underestimate your own worth, though, child," Hades said. "Remember, you're also one of those twelve. You have a role to play in this war—a most crucial one at that."
And he was right. Ginrius was the replacement for Hephaestus, who was one of the major league hitters. He just survived Zeus and even went in and out of Tartarus, relatively unscathed; there was at least something to be said about that.
"So, how fares your journey through Tartarus?" Hades added. For the first time in a long while, Ginrius caught a glimpse of mirth in the god's eyes, and it was as warm as the fires that burned in his fief. He was excited—there really was a first time for everything.
Then it was his turn to get the feels. "I got Python and his brothers agreeing to join our fight, as well as the giants and monsters in their command…"
Hades knew that much already, in fact, he personally saw to the motley crew's accommodation. But he sensed that there was more to it and so urged his son to spill.
Ginrius was hesitant, remembering he was instructed against it prior to his journey, but seeing Hades with that impatient, spellbound look, decided to just roll with it. "I also talked to Cronus—"
"—you did what?!"
It wasn't only Hades. The mention of the titan's name caused everyone in the room to eye Ginrius with such venom, he felt condemned for something utterly blasphemous. Demeter and Poseidon seemed especially cross, perhaps due to their firsthand experience of getting regurgitated by the monster in question.
"In my defense, I didn't look for him," announced Ginrius. "I was making my away around very carefully, picking out who's who, when the ground shifted, tumbled, and presto, Cronus was there. If it's any consolation, he looked downright miserable down there."
In the foreground, Ginrius caught Poseidon whisper "Tartarus…" in reflection. And as the sea god looked at his more reticent older brother, he knew he was thinking the same thing.
Unwilling to share further comments for the matter, Hades recommenced the inquiry. "And what did Cronus have to say?"
"He referred me to Atlas, his general," Ginrius continued his story. "After learning of the situation, he gave me a strand of hair and part of his essence, through which I forged this belt that increases my strength tenfold. It should help in the fight."
Everyone marveled as Ginrius tapped the artifact around his waist, all except Hades, who, yet again sensed that there was more to the story. "What else?"
"He told me to gather some of the titan shackles lying about in Tartarus, as it was made of the same materials used in crafting Aegis, Zeus' indestructible armor. And…"
"And?"
"And he also revealed where Zeus buried Typhon, who I assume is quite important?"
The atmosphere further tensed at the mention of Typhon's name, most of which hinted fear beyond even that incurred by Zeus. But for some reason, it made Hades, Lord of the Underworld and all things dead, flash a healthy, vibrant smile.
***
What followed was a session debate between the newly formed war council. Hades voted for the power of Typhon to be harnessed, along with the mighty scythe of Cronus that was buried with him. The rest rallied against the idea, all the while Ginrius got caught in the clash that made the Titanomachy look like mud wrestling.
Typhon, after a bit of a back story, was revealed to have been birthed by Gaea with the sole purpose of eradicating the Olympians. He came after the war with the titans ended, and an increasingly bitter Gaea got tired of having his offspring locked up in Tartarus to suffer. Typhon was so powerful, he kicked Zeus' ass and cut his tendons for ramen, and made the rest of the pantheon run as far as Egypt for a more peaceful political climate.
When Zeus beat Typhon through the help of Hermes and a certain mystical, poisoned fruit, he kept the monster buried under a secret location—classified coordinates now revealed as Mount Etna. Utilized well enough, anything Typhon would undoubtedly tilt the favor against Zeus. But then, was it really wise to unleash a force that superseded the current crisis? The debate raged on.
"We need all the help we can get if we are to defeat Zeus," Hades once more emphasized amid a torrent of backlash.
Poseidon growled back at the suggestion almost instantly. "And then what? To defeat our adversary, we unleash something that even we cannot control? We'll be the next to fall!"
"You are assuming that we will release the beast in full, brother!" defended Hades with a raise of his own volume. "Weren't you listening? My son was able to extract Atlas' essence with ease. Why can't we do the same for another trapped titan?"
Poseidon gave Ginrius a tidal glare, making the young god flinch. Seeing this reaction, he delivered his next piece with more calm. "Because this is Typhon we're talking about. Between his power and father's scythe, he'll be free of Zeus' binding as soon as we chip a side of that mountain."
"Why did you assume that we'd be going through the mountain?"
Hades' response caused everyone to raise their head in curiosity. The dark god then added, "Look around you. We are in my domain, where I am king and all-powerful. If we dig through here to reach Etna, we'll be able to reach Typhon without ever touching Zeus' wards. And should the beast manage to tear himself free, he'll be at his weakest, both from his imprisonment and the limitations of my realm. With our combined might, I'm confident we'll manage to throw him down Tartarus and bind him forevermore. The exercise might even count as trial round for our match against Zeus himself."
The plan sounded legit. At this point, almost everyone seemed convinced that it would work to their advantage. But Hades was not done yet. He looked at his godsmith son, beckoning him to come forward. When Ginrius did, he uncovered the next phase of their offensive: "It's time to get those smithing skills fly, son. Forge us our own Aegis, and as soon as you're done, we march for Mount Etna. The war with Olympus has officially begun."
Sensing his father's steel-cold determination, Ginrius summoned his hammer back to action.