"Mother! It's time to go! We have to hurry!"
Daniil's voice shook with urgency and desperation. Both his sisters clung to his back, wrapped in his old robe. Their small bodies were curled against him, trembling, still dazed from the concussion and bleeding heavily. They needed treatment, and fast.
He stood at what was once their doorstep, now nothing more than rubble, gripping the wooden handle from his father's old farming shovel. His left leg throbbed with every heartbeat, but his stance was firm. Injured or not, he refused to be weak.
Meri sat beside her husband, Andreas, pinned beneath the massive boulder. His breathing was ragged, his gaze growing dim. She couldn't tear herself away, not from the man she had loved her whole life. Her tears fell freely, but her hands never let go of his.
Daniil's focus stayed fixed on the living, on what could still be saved. It made him appear cold, heartless, even, but it was the only way to survive.
With what little strength he had left, Andreas whispered to his wife, "Please… go… I'll be fine… This is fine… You have to live… Please…"
Meri lowered her head, sobbing harder. In the distance, the heavy, earth-shaking footsteps of the Gaióthrauste echoed from the city center, growing closer. It was heading for the farmlands, toward their home.
"Mother!" Daniil called again, louder this time.
Meri pressed Andreas' hand to her forehead, kissed it, and held on as though letting go would mean losing him forever.
"I'm sorry…" she murmured through her tears.
"Don't…" he tightened his grip and met her eyes. "Go… now… hurry…"
His fingers slackened. He looked up at the open sky where their roof once was. The wind carried the stench of burnt flesh and ash, the sky above stained red from the fires devouring the Agora. Slowly, his eyes closed. His breathing stopped.
Meri's wail tore through the air. Another barrage of massive stones crashed down in the distance, shaking the ground.
Daniil hobbled over, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go! He sacrificed himself for us, don't make it go to waste!"
Helpless and trembling, Meri let him lead her. She looked back one last time as they rounded the boulder, and Andreas was gone from sight. The home they had built together was now nothing but broken stone and ash.
They stepped into the street, and Daniil saw lines of carriages fleeing toward the outskirts. The road ran alongside the river, leading to the mountain pass, and beyond that, escape.
Just then—
A hail of massive stones crashed down upon the fleeing crowd. This time, Daniil understood the titan's intent: it was targeting the moving carriages, trying to halt their escape. His heart sank. Reaching the mountains seemed impossible.
We'll make it no matter what.
Not every carriage was struck. The demon's aim, though devastating, was far from precise. Many still made it through. That was their chance.
Daniil's leg was shattered beyond repair, the jagged bone piercing through the skin making it nearly impossible to stand. But he shouted, no, roared, his voice raw and desperate, carrying across the chaos.
A carriage in the distance slowed. It bore the golden crest of a serpent, one Daniil didn't recognize, but Meri's tear-filled eyes locked onto it instantly.
"That crest…" she whispered.
The carriage stopped. The coachman leapt down and rushed toward them. He stopped before Meri and bowed quickly.
"My lady, there's no time for pleasantries. Please, board the carriage, we're heading to the outskirts."
He straightened and glanced at Daniil. "And you are?"
"I'm her son," Daniil replied.
"My apologies, young master. Hurry, we don't have much time." His voice was calm, but urgent.
Daniil was too stunned to question his mother's apparent nobility. Without hesitation, he hobbled toward the carriage. Meri followed, her eyes lingering on the ruins of their home one last time. This was the final glimpse she would ever have of it. The tears did not stop.
The coachman helped them aboard, his hands deft and steady. Daniil struggled to climb in with his little sister on his back, pain shooting through his leg, but the coachman supported his weight and lifted him in.
The moment they were inside, another barrage of stones slammed into the ground beside the carriage, close enough to feel the shockwave. By sheer luck, they had been spared.
Daniil's eyes widened. He turned to the coachman and shouted, "HURRY!"
The coachman didn't waste a heartbeat. He leapt onto his seat, snapped the reins, and the horses surged forward. The wind roared past them, drowning nearly all sound.
Daniil glanced upward through the roofless carriage, Gaióthrauste had spotted them. His heart pounded in sync with the thunderous gallop of the horses. The monster slammed its massive club into the ground, unleashing another deadly barrage.
The coachman heard the impact behind them and looked back. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the incoming stones. With incredible skill, he swerved the carriage left and right, dodging every crushing blow. When the danger passed, Daniil exhaled shakily, meeting the coachman's glance. The man offered a smug side-eye.
"I've earned my place as a noble family's coachman. This is nothing," he said, though his gaze remained alert for the next strike.
Daniil turned toward the passenger seat. Meri sat motionless, her expression hollow. The chaos had numbed her. Her daughters lay beside her, eyes closed, breathing steady. They were recovering, but Daniil's worry only deepened.
He called over the wind, "We need a doctor! My sisters are hurt!"
"Don't worry, master! We're almost there!"
Another carriage appeared behind them, moving faster, rapidly closing the distance. It pulled alongside, revealing its grim cargo: unconscious passengers, perhaps even the dead. Among them, Daniil saw children and a woman slumped in the back. The driver, face taut and eyes locked on the road, was oblivious to the wind tearing at his hair and clothes.
Daniil's coachman glanced at the man, instantly understanding. Without hesitation, he steered left to give way.
"May the Gods have mercy on his family," he murmured, quiet enough to himself, but Daniil heard.
The words stuck in Daniil's mind. He looked back at his own family. Meri, now calmer, holding her daughters tightly against her chest.
To hell with the gods…
His brows furrowed, rage simmering under the weight of the cruelty around him.
The mountains loomed closer.
"Almost there! Hold on!" the coachman shouted.
The demon still hurled boulders across the land, but Daniil's thoughts stayed fixed on his curses toward the heavens. The carriage raced for the narrow pass between the mountains.
***
"Haa… Haa… Urgh…" Blood spills across the ground. The horned beast kneels before the ragged man standing in front of him. Admetus is battered and unsteady, but his grip on the glowing sword does not falter.
"You're… one tough nut to crack…" he mutters, blinking hard to clear his blurry vision. Before him kneels the demon general, four times his size, a monstrous force brought low by a man most would think incapable of such a feat.
"I'll tear… you apart…" Zir growls.
"Well… I'm still waiting…" Admetus taunts. "And unfortunately for you, it all ends once I cut off your head… and hang it from your own bones."
He raises his sword high, its glow intensifying.
"Fortunately for me… I get to put an end to you."
As he brings the blade down, time freezes—not by his sword's power, but by something else entirely.
"Pathetic."
Admetus' eyes shift to the right. His body is locked in place, the world frozen except for the beast in front of him. Standing to his side is another figure—a woman.
She is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Crimson hair perfectly arranged, her figure draped in an unfamiliar yet strikingly elegant fashion. A deep red capelet sparkles with buttons and ornaments carved from blood-red gems, catching the glow of his sword. Her eyes hold several spiraling irises in shades of red, framed by jet-black corneas. Her lips are the color of fresh blood. She looks no older than twenty, though her true age is unknowable.
"I thought you were capable, Zir." Her gaze is fixed on the kneeling demon, not on Admetus. He instantly realizes she is another demon.
What—? How? I never sensed another presence!
"Urgh… Apologies, my lady… I got too full of myself… Argh!"
"No wonder you're getting beaten to a pulp by a mere human." She finally turns to him, her piercing gaze meeting his.
"But I have to say…" She steps closer, tracing his jawline with a playful finger. "You've stumbled upon an interesting specimen~"
A black watch on her pale wrist begins to buzz.
"Oh! Sigh… I'm wasting time. You and Kerberon are going to be the end of me," she says, glancing at the watch. "The gods will be here soon. I guess I'll have to help my father myself, since his useless slave can't handle one fucking human."
She turns away, and time resumes. Admetus, no longer restrained but suddenly powerless, collapses to the ground. His sword slips from his grasp, clattering against the dirt as darkness takes him.
Raising her right arm, she curls her fingers into a fist. Red clouds swirl overhead. Her voice, quiet, almost casual, cuts through the air like a blade, shredding every eardrum in range:
Xechýthike, ypakoún mou!
The mountains surrounding Arcadia erupt. The blast is deafening, leaving fleeing citizens deaf and bleeding from the ears. Lava bursts from the peaks, soaring high enough to brush the clouds before raining down in molten sheets.
The sky becomes a storm of fire. Men, women, and children are burned alive in the downpour. Arcadia had already been hell, now it descends into something far worse.
A red barrier shimmers around her, protecting herself, the demon general, and the fallen Admetus. Her hair whips in the explosive winds, yet her surroundings remain eerily calm. She watches without emotion, her glowing eyes reflecting the carnage.
The Gaióthrauste stumbles in the quaking earth, crushing hundreds beneath it.
"Such power… I could never wield it…" Zir murmurs.
"Oh, this is nothing~ Keep watching," she replies, her beautiful face twisting into a grotesque smile.
Zir tilts his head back, watching lava droplets sizzle against the barrier—until one drop grows. And grows. And grows.
"No… That's—? Impossible…"
Meteors.
"Ahahaha! I've seen this sight a million times, and it never gets old!" she shouts.
Her spell tears celestial bodies from the heavens. Hundreds streak across the sky, each impact shattering mountains. In moments, thousands die. Within seconds, millions. Arcadia, once vast and thriving, is reduced to ash and vapor.