Olympus — The Decision The halls of Olympus echoed with thunder. Athena walked alone through the marble corridor, her spear in hand, her owl gliding silently above. Behind her, the gods argued. Bickered. Feared. But she had already made her choice. She reached the armory, stepped inside, and stood before her father’s war helm — the one he hadn’t touched in centuries. Not as a sign of rebellion. A shimmering gate opened at the edge of the world, where the sky touched the ocean. Athena stepped through. Instantly, she was beneath. The sea parted around her presence, water bending back in respect or fear. Lightning crackled through it — silent, white-hot veins. Dominic turned as she arrived. She tossed him something. "I’m not here to give orders. I’m here to fight. But the gods won’t all agree." He caught the pendant. "Who do I need to watch for?" She looked up toward the fading sun above. "Hermes is neutral. Apollo’s missing. Ares—" She paused. "Ares wants blood. He’ll come swinging. Not for the sea. Just for war." Dominic smiled grimly. "Then let’s give him something to swing at." Lyrielle’s Whisper — Sirens in the Fog Far from the palace, near the Coral Wastes, the Deep Choir gathered. Floating. Silent. Watching. Fog rolled across the sea, thick as cloth. The sun disappeared above them. Lyrielle stood still at the front, lips barely moving. And still, her sirens began to move. Like knives in the dark. Toward Naerida’s capital. The war wasn’t coming. It had already begun. From a ruined trench carved centuries ago, Maelora floated in shadows, watching Lyrielle’s army pass overhead. She didn’t speak. Didn’t show herself. But one word escaped her lips. Beneath her, the bones of an old sea titan began to stir. The Mortal World Shakes In a coastal temple in India, a young priest suddenly screamed mid-prayer and collapsed. The sea outside the shrine boiled. Crabs swarmed the sand. And in the distance, whales beached themselves—dead, but eyes wide open. Something was calling. Calling everything back to the deep. Back in Naerida’s palace, the war room shook as reports flooded in. Siren scouts slaughtered. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ NovᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet The coral perimeter was breached. General Dros hissed and slammed his trident on the ground. "The Deep Choir is not a myth! They’re here!" Naerida turned to Dominic. "What did you bring back with you?" Dominic didn’t answer at first. Then, calmly: "I didn’t bring it. I left it alive." She stared at him. "Is that better?" Final Scene — Ares Awakens In Olympus, deep in the Forge of War, Ares stood shirtless, flames licking his skin as he hammered a blade from screaming metal. Chains of lightning danced around his gauntlets. "Poseidon returns... with a toy trident and a thunder girl at his side." He slammed the hammer down again. The sword glowed red. Then... nothing. A void that swallowed light. "I’ll come to the sea," he whispered. "And I’ll break your bones, little brother." A jagged tear opened in the clouds above the ocean. Fire spilled from the heavens like blood from a wound. And from that wound... Ares dropped. His feet hit the sea like a meteor. Beneath the surface, dominions trembled as the God of War landed in full armor, eyes glowing red beneath a bronze helm, his blade dragging behind him — cutting through water like it was air. Straight toward Naerida’s realm. Somewhere Near the Capital Naerida felt it first. A crackle. A heat. A pull. She turned from her war table, gaze fixed on the waters outside her throne room. "Something’s coming." The guards didn’t ask. They felt it too. Even the coral walls began to hum — a low, ancient tremor. She reached for her blade. And whispered, "Ares..." High above the battlefield, floating in the bones of a dead leviathan, Lyrielle watched the sky burn. The red streak of Ares falling. She laughed. Soft. Cold. "Good. Let the gods turn on each other. I’ll bury the winner." She turned to the Deep Choir and raised her arm. The sirens began to sing again. But low and slow, the kind of song that made you want to drown just to feel peace again. Dominic stood at the gates of the outer reefs, wind coiling around his arms. A quiet current whispered against his skin. Then clenched his jaw. Athena nodded. "Ares. He’s here." Dominic growled, "I’m not ready for him." Athena didn’t blink. "No one ever is." Somewhere Deeper — The Forge Remains Open Back on Olympus, the hole in the sky hadn’t closed. Hephaestus looked up from his forge, wiping sweat and soot from his face. "He took it," he muttered. "The Void Blade." Beside him, Hestia stared in silence. "That sword wasn’t meant to be wielded again," she whispered. Hephaestus didn’t answer. Because he knew exactly what came next. Through ancient trenches carved by fallen titans... Past ghost cities buried beneath salt... But everything around him died. Even the seaweed turned black. He didn’t kill because he wanted to. He killed because war doesn’t ask permission. Final Scene — The Meeting is Near Naerida stood in full armor now. Athena stood beside her. Dominic too. Before them, the sea cracked in a red spiral of boiling water. A figure appeared through the haze. He raised his blade. "Which of you bleeds first?" Dominic’s eyes lit blue. Naerida summoned a storm behind her. Athena raised her spear and whispered, "Try me."