The sky split open.

Thunder didn’t roll—it roared, howled, like a beast wounded by fate. The heavens bled crimson as celestial lightning arced through the skies, searing the firmament. Rain poured down, not water, but something heavier—mixed with ash and divine residue. Olympus itself trembled.

High upon the *Altar of Judgement*, chained by glowing celestial runes, knelt a boy.

*Kyrillos*.

Barefoot, beaten, and broken—not by combat, but by betrayal. His once radiant robes were in tatters, his body scorched with marks of restraint, divine bindings pulsing against his skin.

He was seventeen.

The boy once praised as the Prodigy of the Silver Flame, the Heir of the Celestial Phoenix Sect… now a heretic, condemned by those who once toasted his victories.

Around him stood the *Twelve Grand Houses*, their banners flapping wildly in the divine storm. Faces half-shadowed under golden helms and jeweled crowns, yet none dared look him in the eye. Only one figure, hidden in the rear, wept silently behind a silver veil—*Aphrodite*.

The revelation of Thanos' betrayal sent a cold ripple through the group. His words hung heavily in the air — an ancient god rising to reshape the world, and their desperate fight just beginning.


Kyrillos convened the council inside the heart of Alethea's grand library, the towering shelves casting elongated shadows in the flickering torchlight.


"Time is against us," Kyrillos said. "We must act before the Order completes their ritual."


Sophia unfurled a brittle scroll she'd found earlier. "This mentions the 'Veil of Erebos,' a hidden plane where the god is imprisoned. The Order aims to tear the veil."


Leonidas grunted, "If that happens, the world will drown in darkness."


Meanwhile, outside the city, the others trained relentlessly. Andreas and Kostas drilled new combat formations, while Calliope taught forbidden magic to those willing to risk its corrupting touch.


Thanos, shackled but watching closely, surprised many by offering information. "The Order's stronghold lies beneath the Temple of Gaia. But beware — their ranks have shadows within shadows."


A Moment of Quiet That night, Kyrillos stood atop Alethea's highest tower, gazing at the starlit sky.


Sophia joined him quietly. "Do you ever wonder if we can truly win?"


He smiled faintly. "We don't have the luxury of doubt."


Below them, the city stirred — the whispers of ancient power growing louder, as the first threads of fate began to unravel.


Chapter 28: The Whispering Shadows