In the dim light of her apartment, Astraeus sat cross-legged on the floor, the Starforged Spear resting across her lap. The weapon hummed faintly, responding to her presence. She ran her fingers over the intricate carvings along its shaft—constellations etched in glowing silver, each one telling a story of battles fought and victories won.

"You’re more than a weapon," she murmured. "You’re a reminder."

A reminder of her father, Astraeus the Titan God of Dusk. A being of immense power and arrogance, he had always believed in her potential—not as a protector, but as a ruler. The memory of his booming voice filled her mind, his golden eyes burning with intensity.

"You are my legacy, Astraeus," he had said once, standing atop a celestial mountain, his cloak of twilight billowing behind him. "You were born to command the stars, not to cower among mortals."

But she had chosen a different path. A harder path.

The faint buzz of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. She picked it up and saw a message from Foster, her unlikely ally in this fight. An active agent of the National Security Bureau (NSB), Daniel Foster was Astraeus's confidant—someone who didn’t flinch in the face of the impossible.

Daniel Foster: "Meet me at the usual spot. We need to talk."

Astraeus sighed, pulling on her leather jacket and slinging the spear across her back. It shimmered briefly before vanishing from sight, hidden by divine magic. She stepped out into the cold New York night, the city’s neon lights reflecting off puddles on the asphalt.

The "usual spot" was a nondescript diner on the corner of 5th and Main. Astraeus pushed open the door, the bell jingling softly as she stepped inside. The smell of coffee and grease filled the air, and Daniel Foster was already seated in a booth at the back, his sharp suit a stark contrast to the diner’s worn interior.

"You’re late," he said, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

"You’re impatient," Astraeus shot back, sliding into the booth. "What’s so urgent?"

Foster leaned forward, lowering his voice. "There’s been chatter about a new player in the city—someone tied to Olympus or other mythologies."

Astraeus’s jaw tightened. "Who?"

"I don’t know yet," Foster admitted. "But they’re not here to play nice. And if they’re linked to Olympus or the Titans, we’re in trouble."

Astraeus leaned back, crossing her arms. "I’ll handle it."

Foster raised an eyebrow. "You can’t do this alone."

"I’ve been doing this alone my whole life," she snapped, but her tone softened when she saw the concern in his eyes. "I’ll be careful."

Foster nodded, though his expression remained grim. "Just promise me you’ll call if things go sideways."

"Promise," she said, sliding out of the booth. As she stepped back into the night, her spear shimmered back into view, its glow faint but steady. She could feel the city’s tension, like a storm waiting to break.

The night was far from over. As Astraeus walked through the city, she caught sight of something that made her blood run cold—a symbol painted on a brick wall, glowing faintly in the dark. It was the mark of Erebus, the primordial god of darkness.

"So it begins," she muttered, gripping her spear tighter. The stars above flickered, their light dimming as the shadows around her grew deeper. The fight wasn’t just coming—it was already here.