Olympus, 28,000 light-years from Earth
Security around the Imperial Palace isn’t as present as it used to be during Hebe’s reign.
Not only is Athena in far less need of protection, but her administration is far more decentralized: even if the capital were destroyed, she has multiple ways to command her empire.
This is why Enyo is not greeted by more than a couple of token guards once she lands.
She takes off her helmet, revealing her short pink hair, and she marches towards the throne room.
Her relationship with her half-sister has never been great; besides their rivalry as war goddesses, Enyo has always resented that Zeus considered Athena to be his favorite daughter.
But she is nothing if not professional: as Minister of War, she swore to serve the empire, no matter who wears the crown.
She kneels before the throne, and true to form Athena wastes no time in small talk.
<We lost all communications with Boreas, and Nike is not responding to my calls. We must assume that the world has fallen to Null.> Athena reveals.
<Understood. I will fly there at once and…>
<No. I already deployed the 17th, 21st and 48th fleets to Boreas.>
<Then you wish me to lead the attack on Earth?>
<Earth cannot be taken by brute force; it will require tactics so unusual that I can’t trust anyone by myself to carry them out. You are headed to Myridia, Enyo.>
The Goddess of War is taken aback. She doesn’t presume to be as informed as Athena on the status of the galaxy, but war is literally her job.
<Myridia? Has the rebellion reached it?>
<It has not and it will not. Myridia is a powerful symbol, both as the first world that Null “liberated” from divine rule and as a significant focus of her cult. It must not, under any circumstances, revolt against my rule.>
<Your Majesty, what exactly are my orders? Am I to seize control of Myridia?>
<Your orders are to break Myridia, Enyo.>
<Break their spirit? Psychological warfare is not my strong suit. Perhaps I could suggest…>
<Enyo, leave the thinking to me. You are a blunt instrument better suited to brutal duties. Your orders are to break Myridia in half. Literally.> Athena clarifies, raising the volume of her voice without allowing anger to be perceptible in her tone.
<Your Majesty… Athena… Myridia has not attacked us. Is a preemptive strike truly warranted?>
Athena tilts her head. She’s either judging her half-sister’s soul or wondering if she’s serious.
<Enyo, are you telling me you never committed a war crime? I find that hard to believe.>
<Are we at war with Myridia now?>
<We are at war with the concept that mortals can dictate the actions of gods. Do you understand that, Enyo? Or are you nostalgic for the days when you followed Null?>
<No, Your Majesty, I am… I am not. I will depart for Myridia immediately, unless you have additional orders for me.>
<One last thing, Enyo. I sense doubt in you. Remember that, unlike my predecessor, I will not tolerate any dissent growing in my court. Did I make myself clear?>
<Absolutely, Your Majesty. Your will shall be done.> Enyo cuts the conversation short, rising up and doing a very quick and awkward curtsy before leaving.
Athena gives her a 70% chance of remaining loyal. She will have to deal with the remaining 30%.
She stands from her throne, sending a message to her guards:
<Prepare my ship. I have a monster to feed.>
Myridia, 50 light-years from Earth
Of the thousands of planets in the Olympian Galaxy, Myridia has proven to be the most resistant to embracing the new order.
It’s also the hardest population to control: with millions of adults having the power to create up to ten thousand duplicates, the number of rebels that can be summoned at a moment’s notice is too much even for a galactic empire.
After the first two battalions were lynched by swarms of unarmed civilians, Athena opted for a different strategy: isolation.
Myridia has been cut off from the rest of the Galaxy, much like Earth. Spaceports have been bombarded from orbit, all off-world communications have been jammed, and anyone attempting to leave the planet with whatever vehicle they managed to repair has been blown out of the sky.
After all, a single Myridian rebel escaping the planet could potentially translate into handing ten thousand new rebels into the mix.
Hovering above the planet’s capital, Null City, Enyo wonders why Athena has even allowed Myridia to exist. Back when she was reluctantly working with Ares, her brother would have killed everyone minutes after they refused to swear allegiance to him.
But Athena is no Ares, even though Enyo is starting to see some parallels between the two.
Watching down at the Myridian crowd assembled in the plaza, she has to admit that she admires them. They certainly know that they have no chance: for all their screaming and the amount of objects they throw at her, they are keenly aware of how easily she could slaughter them.
They still fear their dead goddess Demeter as much as they hate her, and she was a lightweight when compared to the Goddess of War.
The mission is so simple. All she needs to do is use her hypersonic War Cry and the planet’s surface would be leveled before the Myridians even heard any sound.
She could then crack the planet in half with her bare hands, recover the Myridian monolith at the center of the planet that grands Myridians their powers, and present it to Athena as war trophy.
There would be no battle. There would be no war. There would only be slaughter.
She wonders if that’s what she is the goddess of now. She wonders if allowing herself to be seen so publicly by so many people for so long will be enough.
She stops wondering when she’s kicked in the head.
The blow is so hard and unexpected that the goddess is sent flying towards the skyscraper-sized statue representing Noriko Null. It was already unrecognizable when the Athenian forces blew its head, but now that Enyo has crashed through one of the two legs the entire statue collapses on her.
Kari Zel lands amidst the crowd, her body glowing through the energy that her Shadow Breaker technique is pumping through her veins.
Destroying the statue wasn’t her first option, but she had to take Enyo away from the civilians.
<Clear the area! Now!> she orders.
Two thirds of people in the plaza disappear in the blink of an eye. That took care of the duplicates; the rest don’t have to be asked twice.
<Not bad for a mortal.> Enyo concedes, getting out of the rubble with debris dripping out of her hair as she sends a message to the ships in orbit:
<Enyo to fleet. Do not, I repeat, do not engage the rebels without my authorization.>
<You’re not going to give that order.> Kari tells her.
<I know. You deserve to fight a proper goddess.>
<No, it’s not for that. You no longer have a fleet.> the mortal informs her, pointing her finger upwards. There are multiple explosions caused by the destruction of several ships.
<As for the rest… I’ve already defeated the Goddess of Victory!> Kari says, rushing at Enyo at superhuman speed and throwing a punch that she expects the goddess to try to dodge.
She already has a countermove ready, but to her surprise Enyo allows herself to be punched in the jaw… and if Kari hadn’t pulled her punch at the last possible moment, she would’ve broken her own hand in the process.
<Victory is what happens after a war. Athena’s lapdog is nothing compared to me.>
Kari attacks again, but despite her speed she can’t even see Enyo vanishing and she ends up punching the air… with enough strength to summon a powerful wind that obscures her own vision.
<Divine strength is useless if you still fight like a mortal.> Enyo taunts her.
Fueled by rage as much as she is by virtual particles, Kari continues her assault and finds herself unable to lay a finger on Enyo… even creating duplicates sharing a part of her strength is useless.
<Your muscles still need you to think to make you move. Real gods have no such limitation.> Enyo calmly explains, casually evading Kari’s punches and kicks.
<I liked you better when you could barely speak!> Kari insults her, but it’s her only advantage: needing to speak, Enyo can’t move faster than sound. And eventually she lands a punch.
And Kari’s previous fears prove to be correct: her fist connects to Enyo’s jaw, and she can hear multiple fractures in her hand.
<Hm. A trillion times more than a mortal’s punch, at most? I almost felt it.> Enyo congratulates her, preparing to actually fight for a moment.
<Cut of a thousand deaths!!!> she hears yelling, and a stream of tiny energy daggers are summoned against her.
Enyo flies upwards, counting on their trajectory to hit Kari. But the blades move of their own accord, purposefully avoiding Kari and flying towards the goddess.
The daggers made of white glowing Aether energy pierce through her armor and her skin, penetrating deep enough to cause her pain.
<Hey!!! Find your own goddess!!!> Kari complains.
<You did not complain when my portal brought us here.> Torn points out.
<Whatever, let’s finish this before she has the time to…>
Enyo takes a deep breath, obviously preparing to unleash her War Cry. Considering that has proven to be capable of destroying worlds, Kari has no trouble admitting this is not a fight in her weight class and she’s quick to send a message:
<A little help down here, guys!>
She can feel the air inside her own lungs vibrate even before Enyo can scream, and thankfully that doesn’t last long: a powerful lightning strike hits the goddess, making her stop.
Not because she’s hurt, but because of what happens to the electrons of that lightning: they reconstitute themselves into a mortal that she knows.
<Quantum. So-called “Strongest Under The Heavens”.>
<Hey, I won the finals fair and square. C’mon Enyo, we’ve been through this before, I’ve already beaten you once.> Quantum reminds her.
<You won one battle. Can you win another, without destroying the planet we’re standing on?>
The Sun, 8 minutes from Earth
Athena has never really understood Apollo’s fascination with stars. They’re just too simple to interest her… gather an astronomical amount of helium and gravity takes care of their entire existence. They have no personal history to exploit, no innovation to explore.
She’s never given much thought to stars, other than by occasionally using them as power sources.
But she recently realized that they can be useful in other ways.
She’s floating dangerously close to the surface of the Sun. At this close distance, most ships would have already been melted and most communications are extremely difficult.
The one being who can hear her loud and clear is a monstrous dark mass of tendrils and teeth, something so dark that even in this location light refuses to touch it.
<You miss your old house, don’t you?> she asks.
A powerful growl is what she receives in response.
<No, I’m afraid I can’t take you back there… Hades didn’t take good enough care of it. But I promise I will give you my full attention now, Cerberus. Why don’t you have a little snack?>
The dark mass growls approvingly as it lunges at the Sun. Athena has watched him devour stars enough times to know that the Sun will no longer have enough mass to sustain life on Earth within a few hours.
<Good boy.> she tells him, allowing herself half a smile.
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