Olympus, 780,000 years ago
The pink haired goddess looks at the twelve thrones assembled in a semicircle. She’s very young from a god’s perspective: she hasn’t hit puberty yet, even if she’s already three thousand years old.
She gets closer to the throne in the middle; it’s raised slightly above all others.
<Is this where dad works?> she asks, almost touching the seat of power before she’s pulled back by the hair.
<Work!? Your good-for-nothing father has never worked a day in his life!!! I have to run this galaxy by myself!!!> Hera shouts, smacking her daughter in the head.
<Mom, that hurt!> Enyo complains. The only result is getting slapped on the face much harder; even with the immense gravity of the white dwarf star below them, the hit is enough to literally throw the child across the throne room.
<Don’t talk back to me! If you weren’t always whining, maybe your father would spend some time with his family every once in a while instead of knocking up every immortal tramp under the heavens!>
<I’m sorry.> Enyo mutters, holding back the tears. As she looks up, she can see her half-sister Athena is now standing in front of her. She’s wearing her full battle armor and she’s already an adult, exactly like the day she was born.
<She is unusually strong for her age.> she states.
<Uhm, thanks?>
<She might be a useful addition to the council once she grows up.> Athena continues. Enyo doesn’t like the fact that she speaks about her like she wasn’t there, or that she’s not lifting a finger to help her get back on her feet.
<Who, her? She’d be useless, she can’t do anything Ares can’t do better. Since you’re here, Athena, perhaps you can tell me where my husband is!>
<I’m afraid not, my Queen. I am saddened by the news that your marriage has not been improved by the birth of another child as you had hoped.>
<Yes, I can see how sad you are. I had such a perfect child in Ares, perhaps the fates wanted to balance his greatness by giving me the worst children any goddess would dread birthing. At least that cripple Hephaestus knows his way around cheap labor.>
At that comment, Enyo instinctively turns her head towards the other side of the room: there’s a teenage boy tinkering with the holographic projector he just installed in one of the thrones.
<<ARE YOU AWARE I AM IN THE ROOM?>> Hephaestus says, receiving no answer. His body is protected by a crude version of what will become his regular armor, but the fire constantly emitted by his skin is bleeding through the cracks.
<Keep an eye on your sister as I talk business with Athena.> Hera instructs him, walking away with the goddess of war. Enyo pulls herself together and walks towards her older brother; she doesn’t get to see him often, since he rarely gets out of his workshop.
<Can I help you with anything?> she asks.
<<YOU CAN HELP ME BY LEAVING ME ALONE. ALL OF THEM SHOULD. ONE DAY THEY’LL GET WHAT’S COMING TO THEM. THEY’LL PAY FOR LAUGHING AT ME. THEY WILL ALL PAY.>> Hephaestus mumbles to himself, continuing to work.
<I don’t… I’ve never laughed at you…>
Hephaestus then snaps: his temperature rises enough to start melting the armor, and as he leans towards Enyo his helmet is already deformed.
<<YOU WANT TO LAST IN THIS FAMILY LONG ENOUGH TO MAKE A NAME FOR YOURSELF?>>
She nods. It’s been centuries since anyone except Hera has spoken to her.
<<NEVER SHOW WEAKNESS. TO ANYONE, EVER. AND IF YOU EVER FEEL ANGRY ABOUT IT? BOTTLE UP THAT UNBRIDLED POWER: ONE DAY YOU’LL GET TO UNLEASH IT AND BURN THIS GALAXY TO THE GROUND.>>
<I… I don’t want to… burn anyone…>
<<ONE DAY. LOUSY ORGANIC LIFE. THEY’LL SEE I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG.>> Hephaestus continues, already concentrating on his own twisted plans and utterly ignoring his sister… like her other relatives always do.
<And I thought I had a messed up family.>
Enyo turns towards the voice she just heard. She’s no longer a child, even by divine standards: she’s a young goddess in full armor.
730,000 years ago, Karnak Galaxy
A swarm of pyramid-shaped warships, each one as large as a mountain, obscures the entire Sun. Which is quite impressive considering that the planet orbits an unusually large star, quite suitable for the capital world of the kingdom of Ra.
The battlefield is absolute mayhem. The robotic armies supplied by Hephaestus, composed of prototypes of what will become his Talos, are fighting an endless horde of serpent-necked lions and fire-breathing scorpion-men.
Enyo has managed to rip apart a few thousand of them with her bare hands, but even that is nothing compared to the work of her other brother.
It’s easy to spot where Ares is: the literal river of blood beneath his feet is large enough to be visible from orbit. Enyo struggles to keep up with the chaos; when a chain of lightning blasts rips through Ra’s fleet, she has to shield her eyes.
<Switching from a sad memory to a happy one, I see. Although only a war goddess would find pleasure in this carnage.>
When Enyo opens her eyes she can’t see who is talking, but she can’t miss the Hieracosphinx who just landed in front of her. The monster roars so loudly that the ground shakes worse than an earthquake. That does indeed make Enyo happy.
<Finally a chance to prove myself.> she says, cracking her knuckles and savoring the epic battle.
Which does not come: two little boys, barely five thousand years old, land on the Hieracosphinx; one grabs the monster’s left legs, the other the right legs, and with titanic strength they pull it apart spilling blood and guts all over themselves.
<Phobos, Deimos, I told you to stay away from the fight.> their aunt scolds them.
<Yeah but nobody listens to you!> one of the twins mocks her; even she can’t tell them apart.
<They will. Everyone will listen to me now.> she says, inhaling deeply to unleash her war cry: a sonic blast that can lay waste to entire planets.
She doesn’t get to use it. Every single Egyptian soldier disappears in the blink of an eye.
<Hey!!! Who stole my massacre!?!?> she hears Ares shout.
<The war is over. You can go back to Olympus now.> Athena reveals, descending from the skies next to a god with the head of an ibis.
<You’ve got to be kidding me!!! Did you surrender!?>
<I negotiated a peace treaty with Ra, thanks to the invaluable collaboration of Thoth.>
<A very enlightened. political and strategic treaty. Within a 15% margin of error, I estimate it will keep our pantheons at peace for 835 thousand years.> Thoth says.
<You guessed wrong!!!> Ares shouts, throwing his sword at the god of knowledge.
It vanishes from existence a hundred feet before it can touch him.
<It is quite unbelievable you are related to these gods.> Thoth sighs.
<Tell me about it.> Athena comments, rolling her eyes. Her annoyance at her brother is then superseded by the surprise of Zeus appearing between her and Thoth.
<Alright! Three rounds of applause for my favorite daughter!> he cheers.
<Please remove your hand from my buttocks, father.> she pleads.
<And mine.> Thoth adds.
<Father, a peace treaty? Now!?> Enyo complains.
<I was going to win! Come on father, let us slaughter these inferior…>
<I think it’s time to celebrate! Say, Thoth, you’re the god of knowledge right? Know any nice goddesses around here?> Zeus asks, leaving the planet without saying anything.
Enyo walks towards Ares; she can feel his rage burning.
<I also thought we were going to win.> she tries to reassure him, only receiving a punch in the face as a result.
<Nobody cares what YOU think. Come on boys, let’s go to Poseidon’s galaxy, I’m in the mood for a holocaust.> Ares tells his children.
<Nasty piece of work. Why do you keep supporting these monsters?>
700,000 years ago, Olympus
Enyo doesn’t have to think to remember what this moment is: it’s permanently etched into her soul. Her armor is completely shattered and her bones have just started healing: she can’t even stand up. Much of her skin is exposed, bruised and burned. And her throat hurts almost as much as the look of disgust and disappointment on her mother’s face.
<You are just worthless. After all these millennia of constant encouragement from your loving mother and THIS is how you repay me!? Now all the goddesses will think I’m a bad parent!>
<Ares… raped… me…> Enyo struggles to say. Every word unleashes unbearable pain.
<And did you even consider how that would make me feel? Of course not, all you ever think about is yourself! Honestly, what kind of goddess doesn’t give herself freely to her own brother? My own daughter can’t follow the most basic divine family values! You make me sick.>
<Mother…> she tries to argue, but the pain is too much.
<What? What could you possibly say that is of any interest to anyone? Come on, let’s hear it!>
She can’t do it. She should scream loud enough to break Olympus, but she can’t even whisper.
<I thought so. I don’t even know why I ever bother with you. Just go and don’t cause any more trouble; be glad that your father will stop chasing other goddesses once we have another child.> Hera summarily dismisses her, vanishing in a flash of blue light and leaving Enyo truly alone.
She break down and weeps until a pair of leather boots come into view. As she looks up, she sees a mortal with golden eyes wearing a green leather jacket.
<What?>
<I know what it’s like to be rejected and hurt. Not to this extent, sure, but at least I can give you more empathy than your entire family combined. I don’t think they even know the meaning of the word.> Noriko Null explains.
<Why?> Enyo asks.
<Why what? Why am I bothering looking into your twisted mind? Why didn’t I just kill you when I had the chance? Well… let’s just say I had an epiphany.> Null answers, walking towards the throne of Zeus and touching its armchair like Enyo tried to do eons ago. Her voice returns to normal.
<Did you know the Drylons created the Primordial Gods? They were supposed to be tools. Weapons. A weapon that can think is a dangerous thing to create, Enyo. I should know. I am a weapon as well.>
<Threat?>
<No I’m not threatening you, Enyo. As we speak, the necrobots I secured from Anubis are reconfiguring your body. Well, they’re actually instructing your own body how to cure itself, but that’s not the point. In order to do this, I connected our minds through the Cosmic Background Network: I can literally shape your mind right now. But I’ve tried mind control before and things didn’t work out so well, so I’m dropping the golden eyes and giving you two options.>
<Listening.>
<Option one: I kill you. Your mind will literally cease to exist. It’ll probably be painless but I can make no promises; despite what my followers think, I don’t know everything.>
<Or?>
<Or… you start anew. No more “goddess of war” crap. You want to make your voice heard? You want to show to your family they’ve always been wrong about you? You want to be a weapon? I can point you at the right targets. I can give you purpose. The only thing I ask in return is your loyalty. So what will it be, Enyo? Death or rebirth?>
<Rebirth.> Enyo eagerly replies.
<So be it.>
Null Zone, a million miles away from Asgard Station
Enyo opens her eyes. The first thing she does is loosen her armor just enough to check the scars on her throat… and they are gone.
<It’s not… I can… I can talk!?> she surprises herself.
<You’re welcome. Now, don’t you have something to say to me?> Null asks.
<You’ve given me back my dignity. I pledge my power and my voice to your cause: I swear on my immortal life that I will follow you to the ends of the universe and slaughter any foe in your way.> the goddess swears, bowing before the mortal.
<Well just a “thank you” would’ve been enough, but that’ll do. C’mon, let’s go back to the universe… we have a Galaxy to save.>
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