A grand hall. The white marble floor is so polished it looks like a mirror. It reflects the gleam of armor and the light of the gods—each over twenty feet tall—seated on their thrones. The hall is dark, with lightning crackling in the air.
Zeus sits at the center, on a throne of ivory and gold. With a perfectly trimmed black beard and eyes that spit blue sparks, he holds the Master Bolt like a baseball bat made of raw energy, tapping it impatiently against his palm.
To his right, Hera sits on a silver throne. She has the face of a stern queen who never smiles. She wears a silk gown that shifts colors and a golden crown. She says nothing, only watching Zeus with an angry glare.
Poseidon, grinning, is seated on a throne made of coral and mother-of-pearl. His skin is deeply tanned by the sun, his black hair messy and salt-crusted. He wears a simple turquoise tunic and grips his trident with both hands, banging its base against the marble floor and making the hall shake every so often.
Athena is not relaxed on her polished stone throne. She sits on the edge, fully armored, with her bronze helmet resting on her lap. Her storm-gray eyes never stay still, watching her aunt.
Ares sits on a bronze throne that smells of smoke and blood. He wears a black leather jacket and jeans, with combat boots propped up on the throne's armrest. Instead of eyes, red flames glow behind dark sunglasses. He sharpens a knife and glares at Athena.
Apollo shines so brightly on his golden throne that it's hard to look directly at him. He looks like a twenty-year-old man—blond and handsome—wearing golden headphones and plucking at a silver lyre. He wears a smug smile, as if he knows a joke no one else gets.
Artemis, on her silver throne forged from moonlight, appears as a twelve-year-old girl in a hunting tunic with her hair tied back. She doesn't look at the other gods; she simply polishes her silver bow with a silk cloth.
Aphrodite occupies a throne decorated with shells and jewels. Her appearance shifts constantly—blond hair, then red, then black. She exudes an overpowering scent of roses and gazes into a hand mirror, touching up her lipstick and ignoring everyone.
Hephaestus, the burliest of them all, sits on a throne that's a mechanical chair full of gears, humming with engine noise. He is huge, his arms greasy and one leg made of metal. He hunches over, fixing a small metal gadget, paying no attention to anyone.
Hermes fidgets on his stone throne. He wears his traveler's cap and winged sandals, whose wings flap nonstop on their own. He checks messages on a scroll and whispers quietly to the two snakes coiled around his staff—the caduceus.
Demeter sits on a throne made of wheat stalks. She has a worried expression and wears a green cloak. She chews on a stalk of grain and ignores Athena, who stares at her, muttering that people don't care for plants like they used to.
Dionysus sits on the last throne, draped in grapevines. Wearing his tiger-print Hawaiian shirt, he rubs his forehead, looking between Demeter and Zeus, who bangs his scepter on the floor. The crash makes the entire hall tremble.
"Dionysus—speak about the boy. He is dangerous," Zeus says, his voice filling the air with lightning sparks.
"Yes, but—" he doesn't finish, as his body freezes. Two divine powers collide; Olympus begins to shake, the air warping around them. Everyone looks at Zeus and Demeter.
Zeus glares down at her and tightens his grip on the Master Bolt. Demeter stares back, her eyes fixed on him. Dionysus looks between his father and his aunt—they are on the verge of war.
"Let me finish," he says. Everyone turns their gaze to Dionysus.
"Yes, he is dangerous, but he knows his place. He poses no threat," Dionysus says.
"But he could. Your argument is flawed. Not only did he try to kill a fellow camper—he unleashed power with a Norse name," Athena says calmly.
Ares lets out a booming laugh, his eyes growing more intense.
"Dangerous? He's just a kid. I'll handle him," Ares says fervently.
"I recommend interrogation. He could be a spy," Athena says, ignoring Ares.
"You try touching my son, child," Demeter says, staring straight at Athena.
"Demeter," Zeus says, looking at his sister, who holds his gaze.
The silence is suffocating until laughter echoes through the hall. Everyone looks at Apollo, who is laughing. He notices and scratches his head.
"Sorry," Apollo says. Athena glares at him.
"What did you see? A prophecy? Is he dangerous?" Athena asks. Everyone focuses on him. Artemis stares at her brother like he's an idiot.
"Sorry… no, nothing like that. I just saw a fight," Apollo says, his voice like a melody. Everyone looks—and sees Caleb and Clarisse spinning around in their cage, fighting.
A vein of anger pulses on Zeus's forehead, and Demeter glares at Apollo. Athena watches coldly.
"Idiot," Artemis says.
Poseidon starts laughing.
"Dionysus—what did you feel when you stopped the blow?" a new voice asks. A girl sits on the floor in the middle of the circle of giants, tending to a small fire. She looks like an ordinary eight-year-old, with a kerchief on her head—but the warmth radiating from her calms the hall. Hestia looks at Dionysus with a gentle gaze.
"He shouted a Norse name—that much is true. But the energy, his power, belongs to our pantheon. He didn't seem to have control," Dionysus says calmly.
Hestia nods in agreement.
"Yes—I watched the fight. Ares, your influence is repulsive, and from your silence I've learned the boy was not under your sway. He has a good heart," Hestia says, looking directly into Ares's eyes. His flames flare with hatred, but he clicks his tongue and stays quiet.
Athena stares at Hestia in silence, as do all the gods. Then she smiles slightly.
"The child is innocent, but his weapon is dangerous. I felt a consciousness emerge to protect him. I will keep an eye on him," Hestia finishes, making Athena narrow her eyes in suspicion.
"Risky. Ragnarök is not just a word—it is Odin's final fate. He is cunning, Father. We must—" her words are cut off by the pressure of Demeter's power. Everyone turns to see her on her throne, looking down at Athena.
Her body begins to grow larger, along with her throne. The floor cracks open and flowers start to bloom.
"How dare you speak of my son like that, spoiled brat? Do you want to start a war?" Demeter says. Another bolt of lightning strikes the center of the hall with a deafening crash. Demeter's power dissipates. Zeus scratches his beard, his eyes like fixed bolts of lightning on Demeter, who falls silent.
"A war over an insignificant male demigod, Demeter? Your anger is illogical. Give me one reason not to eliminate the child. And don't spout nonsense about love—I know you only care for Persephone," Zeus says, his voice thundering and shaking the entire hall.
The gods look at Demeter, who glares at Zeus in fury.
"Yes—I love Persephone, but all my children have a place in my heart. Unlike you, I care for my young. They all inherited my kindness and my harvest powers," Demeter says, looking at Caleb and Clarisse—who are biting and rolling around like rodents, leaving the hall in heavy silence.
"He inherited my most ruthless side. I won't hide it. Since you've asked, you should know, Zeus—I visited him in his dream… and I felt no fear or anger, only happiness. His mind is strong, he is mature for his age, and he caught my attention. His weapon—the bracelet—he found it in a forest, inside a chest. He told me when he killed an ancient empousa."
The gods look at Demeter in surprise. Zeus rests his head on his hand.
"First he won over Adrasteia, then he nearly killed Ares's girl with a Norse blow. Now you tell me he killed an ancient empousa at eleven years old and found a weapon with a consciousness in a damned chest. Either you think me a fool, or incompetent. I have every reason to eliminate him now, before he becomes a threat," Zeus says so calmly it frightens Poseidon, who looks at him strangely.
Not only Poseidon—but Hera and all the gods feel the air turn electric.
"Just kill the kid already," Ares says, stopping his knife sharpening. The gods turn to him.
"A vote to interrogate and eliminate the boy," Athena says.
"Let the vote begin. 'Yes' to eliminate, 'No' to spare," Zeus says, looking Demeter straight in the eyes without moving, startling the goddess. She bites her lip in anger but remains silent.
"Yes," Ares votes.
"Yes," Athena votes.
"Yes," Hera votes.
"No," Apollo votes.
"No," Hermes votes.
"Yes," Artemis votes.
"No," Demeter votes.
"No," Dionysus votes.
"No," Hephaestus votes.
"No," Aphrodite votes—to Ares's fury, as he glares at her. She just smiles, looking at Caleb in rodent form.
"Yes," Poseidon votes.
"No," Zeus says, surprising everyone—except Demeter, who glares at him in anger.
"Father—we can't! He's dangerous!" Athena says, so shocked she stands up.
"The vote is closed. My verdict is made," Zeus says, smiling at Demeter. He looks at Caleb and, in a blinding flash of thunder, vanishes—leaving everyone staring at his now-empty throne.