**.oOo. Atlantis .oOo.**
Zeus watched Hera vanish into the distance, her departure leaving a furious expression etched on his face and a bitterness sinking deep into his heart. He clenched his fists, every fiber of his being wanting to chase after her immediately, to make her pay for this betrayal. But something far more pressing demanded his attention. The city of Atlantis hung precariously in the air before him, suspended by his power alone. The great city, home to thousands, was teetering on the brink of disaster—one misstep, and it would crash into the ocean bed with the force of a meteor, obliterating everything and everyone within it.
With a controlled, deliberate motion, Zeus extended his hands, his power enveloping the city. Slowly, carefully, he guided Atlantis back to its foundations, aligning everything perfectly. The city settled with a deep, resonant thud as it connected with the earth once more, the tremors of its landing spreading through the ocean depths. Only then did Zeus allow himself to release the power he had been holding so tightly.
His gaze turned back to the horizon, where Hera had disappeared. He took a deep breath, trying to swallow the fury that burned within him. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from letting his rage consume him. He needed to think clearly, and right now, his brother needed him.
Zeus's eyes shifted, seeking out Poseidon. He found him, surrounded by his children, who were desperately trying to heal their father. The sight pained Zeus deeply. He realized, with a sharp pang of guilt, that this was his fault. If he had acted sooner, if he had been wiser, Poseidon would not be in this condition—wounded, broken, struggling for life.
With a swift motion, Zeus moved to his brother's side, his presence commanding the attention of the gods around him.
"How is he?" Zeus asked, his voice softer than usual, betraying his concern.
"Lord Zeus," the young gods acknowledged in unison, their tones respectful yet tinged with fear and desperation. Triton, Poseidon's son, stepped forward, his expression grave.
"We're unable to heal him," Triton admitted, worry heavy in his voice. Zeus's brow furrowed in surprise and concern as he knelt beside his brother, feeling the cold bite of the underworld's power and the venomous presence of the Hydra's poison coursing through Poseidon's wounds.
"Cerberus," Zeus muttered under his breath, recognizing the essence of the guardian of the underworld mixed with the venom. The power of death was entwined with the poison, disrupting any attempt at healing. He cursed softly and placed his hands over Poseidon, channeling his own divine power to dispel the curse of Cerberus and neutralize the Hydra's poison.
A soft glow emanated from Zeus's hands as the golden light of his power enveloped Poseidon. The bifurcated god began to reattach, the two halves of his body knitting together under the healing influence. The children of Poseidon watched with bated breath, their hopes rising as they saw their father becoming whole again.
Poseidon's body reformed, but Zeus noticed something else—a lingering force that kept Poseidon from fully awakening. "The power of dreams," Zeus muttered darkly, recognizing Hera's handiwork. "Damn that woman," he cursed, realizing that Hera had trapped Poseidon's mind and soul in a nightmarish illusion.
Gathering his strength, Zeus focused once more, using his own formidable power to shatter the dream that held Poseidon captive. The ocean god suddenly gasped, a loud, guttural shout escaping his lips as he leaped to his feet, his body drenched in cold sweat from the horrors he had just endured.
"Easy, brother, easy," Zeus said soothingly, placing a steadying hand on Poseidon's shoulder. "It was a dream, merely a dream."
Poseidon's wild eyes darted around, from Zeus to his children, and back to Zeus. His breathing was ragged as he tried to shake off the lingering fear that clung to him like a dark cloud. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with residual panic and anger.
"She escaped," Zeus responded, his tone filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation.
Poseidon clenched his fists, running a trembling hand through his damp hair as he struggled to regain his composure. "How are you?" he asked his children, his voice softer, filled with paternal concern.
"We're all alive, Father," responded Rhodos, her tone gentle and reassuring. Poseidon nodded, taking some solace in knowing his children were safe, but his mind was still racing, trying to process what had happened.
Zeus watched his brother carefully, then spoke, his voice laced with urgency. "Brother, Hera has the sundial fragment. I suspect she's already taken the one I entrusted to Apollo as well."
Poseidon's frown deepened, his anger giving way to a cold, calculating resolve. "We need to warn Hades. If Hera's after the fragments, then she'll be going for his next. Once she has all three, she'll be able to locate Chronos." The gravity of the situation was clear in Poseidon's voice.
Zeus nodded in agreement. "We should return to Olympus and prepare."
"Wait… you can't leave. Mother is missing," Triton interjected, his voice trembling slightly.
"Huh?" Poseidon's eyes widened in confusion. "Who is missing?" he asked, his tone edged with disbelief.
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken fears.
**.oOo. Olympus .oOo.**
Back in the divine realm of Olympus, the remaining gods convened, their expressions dark as they discussed what to do next. The once-grand hall, which had witnessed countless councils and decrees, now felt like a place of foreboding, the atmosphere thick with tension.
"So, you're saying Hera took an artifact that was given to you by our father?" Athena asked, her sharp gaze fixed on Apollo, who was lounging in his throne, albeit with a troubled expression.
"Yeah, but I'm not entirely sure what it does," Apollo admitted, his voice carrying a rare note of uncertainty.
Athena's eyes narrowed in thought before she turned to Demeter, the oldest among them. "Demeter, do you have any idea what it could be?"
Demeter, seated in her own place of authority, seemed deep in thought. "You said it was a sundial, correct?" she asked, seeking confirmation.
"Yes," Apollo confirmed, his tone more serious than usual.
A concerned frown creased Demeter's face as she pieced together the implications. "Well, that is troubling," she muttered, her words drawing the attention of everyone in the hall.
"She must be after the power of Chronos," Hestia said, her voice tinged with growing concern.
"Explain," Athena commanded, her tone stern and authoritative.
Hestia nodded, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "It's simple, really. Chronos, the Titan of Time, was never truly defeated. Instead, he used his immense power to separate himself, creating both Cronus, our father, and Chronos, the personification of time. This ensured his continued existence in some form. However, without Cronus, Chronos became merely a personification of time—an abstract force rather than a true deity. As a result, he was sealed away, his location hidden. The only way to find him is through those sundial fragments."
The younger gods exchanged looks of surprise, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "Wait, what?" Ares spoke up, his disbelief clear. "So you're saying Chronos is still out there, and his power is just waiting to be claimed?"
"In a sense, yes," Demeter confirmed, her voice grim. "However, collecting the fragments is only the beginning. Hera must be stopped before she can unite all the pieces."
"So, she's attacking Atlantis to collect these fragments?" Artemis asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Yes," Demeter replied. "But with Zeus and Poseidon confronting her, it won't be long before she's brought back to Olympus. Even if she obtains the fragment, the last one is with Hades, and we all know how powerful he is."
Athena, ever the strategist, wasn't so easily reassured. "Did you forget about the prophecy?" she asked, her sharp tone cutting through the room's tension. She quickly shifted into action, issuing orders. "Hermes, I want you to send a message to Hades immediately. Inform him of Hera's plans."
Hermes nodded, already preparing to depart. "Consider it done."
Athena then turned to Hephaestus, the deformed but brilliant god of fire and craftsmanship. "Artemis, Apollo, I need you to hunt Hera down. Find her before she reaches the underworld."
"And when we find her?" Apollo asked, his tone cautious.
Athena looked at Hephaestus. "Do you still have the chains you used to trap Hera once before?"
"Yes," Hephaestus confirmed, his voice steady.
Athena nodded. "Good. Once you find Hera, use those chains to bind her."
Ares, always eager for conflict, grinned at the prospect. "So, we're hunting down Hera and trapping her? Sounds like a plan I can get behind."
"It won't be easy, but we'll do our best," Artemis said, her voice filled with determination.
"I'll join you," Ares added, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Sure! Here's the continuation:
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But Aphrodite, who had remained quiet until now, voiced the question on everyone's mind. "Why are you speaking as if she's already escaped from Zeus and Poseidon?"
A heavy silence followed her words, the gods exchanging uneasy glances. It was Apollo who finally spoke, his voice low and filled with an uncomfortable truth. "Because she has already escaped."
The weight of his words settled over the room like a shroud. For a moment, no one spoke, the implications of what Apollo had just revealed sinking in.
Artemis's eyes widened in shock and anger. "You should stop keeping things to yourself, you fool!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the marble walls. Apollo, for once, looked sheepish, shrugging in a futile attempt to lighten the situation.
"Sorry, I thought you all knew," Apollo muttered, though his usual cockiness was nowhere to be found.
Athena, ever the strategist, swiftly took charge. "We need to act quickly," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Once you locate Hera, send word immediately. Hermes, stay on standby for rapid communication."
"Got it," Hermes confirmed, already poised for action, his winged sandals glowing faintly as he prepared to move at a moment's notice.
Athena turned to Hephaestus. "You too, Hephaestus. Be ready with those chains."
The god of fire and forge nodded. "Understood. I'll have them prepared."
Ares, who had been itching for action, finally rose from his seat, his excitement palpable. "This is going to be fun," he muttered, his toga igniting in crimson flames that quickly reformed into his battle armor, gleaming with the anticipation of conflict.
Demeter and Hestia watched the proceedings with worried expressions. The seriousness of the task before them was not lost on either of them. They both understood that this was not just another squabble among the gods—this was something far more dangerous. If Apollo's prophecy proved true, they could all be facing the end of the current era.
The decision to stop Hera had been reached without discussion, driven by a collective fear—a fear of death, a fear of the unknown, and, most of all, a fear of the power that Hera could wield if left unchecked. The gods, powerful though they were, now found themselves united by a common enemy, one who had once been their queen.
The group began to disperse, each god preparing for what lay ahead. Artemis and Apollo exchanged a glance before leaving to begin their hunt. Ares, ever the warrior, followed suit, his mind already racing with thoughts of battle. Athena, the last to leave, lingered a moment longer, her mind calculating and analyzing every possible outcome.
Before she exited the hall, Athena turned back to the others. "Remember," she said, her voice firm, "we are not just facing Hera. We are facing the very future of Olympus. We cannot afford to fail."
The gravity of her words hung in the air long after she had gone, leaving the remaining gods in a state of uneasy contemplation. Each of them knew that the task before them was monumental—Hera had always been a formidable goddess, but now she was something more, something far more dangerous.
As the gods departed to their respective tasks, Olympus itself seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with tension and the unspoken dread of what was to come.
**.oOo.**
Meanwhile, as Olympus prepared for the inevitable confrontation, Hera herself had already moved far beyond the reach of her pursuers. She had escaped Zeus and Poseidon by the narrowest of margins, her power bolstered by the fragments of the sundial she now possessed. The next phase of her plan was already in motion, and the gods would soon realize just how much they had underestimated her.
Hera's thoughts were sharp and focused as she traversed the realms, her mind fixed on the final sundial fragment, the one held by Hades in the underworld. But she knew that getting to it would not be easy—Hades was as cunning as he was powerful, and he would not part with such an artifact willingly.
Yet, Hera was no longer the goddess she had once been. The Hera of old, bound by the constraints of marriage and duty, was gone. In her place stood a new entity, one who had reclaimed her power, her will, and her future.
She arrived at the entrance to the underworld, a place few gods dared to tread without Hades's permission. The air here was thick with the scent of death and decay, the shadows long and oppressive. But Hera was undeterred. She had come too far to be stopped now.
As she descended into the depths, the air grew colder, the darkness more absolute. Hera's grip tightened on Marmyadose, her weapon of choice, as she prepared to face whatever challenges awaited her. The underworld was Hades's domain, and she knew that every step she took would be watched, every move she made scrutinized.
Yet, Hera felt no fear. The power of Chronos was within her reach, and once she claimed it, not even Zeus would be able to stand against her.
She had to be cautious, though. Hades was a master of deception, and the underworld was filled with traps and tricks meant to ensnare even the most powerful of gods. But Hera had an advantage—she knew Hades's weaknesses, his fears, and most importantly, his arrogance. He would never expect her to come for him so boldly, to challenge him on his own turf.
As she neared the entrance to Hades's throne room, Hera paused, taking a deep breath. The final confrontation was close, and she would need all her strength to succeed. But deep within, she knew that this was her moment—her chance to finally break free from the chains that had bound her for so long.
With a final, determined step, Hera pushed open the doors and entered the throne room of the god of the underworld, her eyes blazing with purpose and power. She was ready for whatever lay ahead, and nothing—not even Hades—would stand in her way.
.oOo. END OF CHAPTER .OoO.