Hades
"We have 18 months and 5 days until the blood moon," I said, my voice cutting through the low hum of the machine.
The ambassadors and governors behind me had their eyes glued to the hologram. It spun slowly, a live feed of space projected above the round, obsidian table. The moon loomed large, pale but waiting—a silent promise of the chaos to come.
Laura, the chief astronomer, stood to my left, adjusting the feed with a flick of her fingers across the holo-screen. The image sharpened, revealing the subtle shadow of Mars drifting into alignment.
"Look closely," she said, magnifying the red planet. "Mars and Jupiter will reach opposition in the coming weeks. The moon's orbit is already shifting—slowly, but it's happening."
Ambassador Morrison crossed his arms, stepping forward. His gaze never left the projection. "So, what you're saying is, we're locked into this? There's no way to slow it down?"
