Medusa’s gaze sharpened as it locked onto Nyx.
“Nyx, why are you and Nythren here?”

Her voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it.

Nyx, Primordial Goddess of the Night, smiled — a timeless expression laced with amusement and ancient wisdom.

Raezel stepped forward, golden eyes steady.
“You arrived just after we stepped into Velmor — and just before my mother blessed it. That is no coincidence.”

Nyx tilted her head. “No,” she admitted. “It is not.”

Tension rippled through the room. Even Ares — still recovering from emotional whiplash — straightened, suddenly more alert.

Nyx lifted a hand. With the subtlest motion, shadows twisted and bent, the very shape of reality warping in her presence.

Her smile faltered. Her presence deepened — darker, heavier.
“Medusa,” she said, more solemnly now, “the moment you stepped into Velmor… something changed.”

A pause.

It was almost imperceptible, but Medusa reacted. A flicker in her expression. A slight shift in her gaze.
She felt it too.

Nythren folded his arms. “So you did sense it.”

Ares frowned. “Felt what, exactly?”

Raezel exhaled slowly. Something pressed against him — an unseen weight. The air thickened. His heartbeat quickened.

The torches along the walls flared, flames stretching unnaturally tall before snapping back down.

And then he realized.
It wasn’t just the room.
It was the world.
Something ancient had awakened.

His fingers twitched.
“What did we awaken?”

Nyx’s eyes darkened.
“Something old,” she whispered. “Something that was never meant to wake.”

Silence fell like a dropped blade.

Ares exploded.
“Okay, ENOUGH! First I nearly die, then these two lunatics try to recruit Medusa into some apocalyptic war, and now you’re telling me something ELSE is waking up?”

He groaned and collapsed onto the floor.

Medusa inhaled slowly. “So… what did we wake this time?”

Nyx didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze drifted to the ceiling — as if staring through the fabric of reality itself.

“A force that predates Olympus,” she said. “One even the Titans feared.”

Nythren’s smirk faded.
“Mother… that sounds bad.”

Ares sat up, eyes wide.
“Predates Olympus?! The Titans came before the gods, and before them there was only—”

“Chaos,” Nyx finished. Calm. Cold. Certain.

A single heartbeat passed.

Even Medusa — who had faced gods, monsters, and kings — tensed ever so slightly. A flick of her fingers. Barely noticeable.

She spoke softly.
“You mean…”

Nyx nodded.
“Yes. Something from the Age of Chaos stirs.”

Ares sprang to his feet.
“WELL, WE’RE DEAD. I KNEW FOLLOWING YOU PEOPLE WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA!”

Nythren snorted.
“I love how you’re only realizing that now.”

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING!”

Raezel stepped between them, golden gaze burning into Medusa.
“Do you know what it is?”

She didn’t respond at first.
Then, quietly—
“No.”

The torches dimmed again as Nyx stepped forward.

Ares rubbed his temples.
“Okay—what are we even up against now? The Primordial Darkness? Some god-eating beast from forgotten time?”

Nyx smirked.
“Perhaps.”

Ares went completely pale.

Nythren, unfazed, shrugged.
“So what? We deal with it. I’m the creation of darkness. Raezel’s the son of Medusa. Between the two of us, what could possibly—”

The ground started to tremble.

Not like an earthquake.
This was deeper. Wrong.
As if reality itself had flinched.

Then—

A sound.

Not a roar. Not a scream.
Something… missing.
An absence of sound so vast it echoed emptiness.

Outside, the warriors of Velmor fell to their knees, clutching their heads, gasping.

And above them—
The sky tore open.
A jagged, black wound split across the heavens.

From it… a voice.

“WHO… DARES… DISTURB ME?”

King Eldors muttered from the far side of the hall, “There goes my peaceful afternoon.”

Ares? Screamed internally.

Nyx’s presence thickened. The flames dimmed as though fire itself recoiled from her voice.

She folded her arms.
“What is the most powerful creation?”

Nythren smirked.
“The creation of darkness itself. Me. And my brother, the Son of Medusa.”

Ares choked.
“No — it’s reality itself! And for the love of Olympus, can you two stop pretending you’re the pinnacle of all power?! There are forces beyond you!”

Nythren leaned back, unimpressed.
“I don’t believe that.”

Ares pointed at him, practically twitching.
“THAT attitude is exactly why we’re in these messes!”

Raezel raised an eyebrow.
“Then tell us, God of War — what’s more powerful?”

Ares exhaled.
His arrogance vanished.
He spoke one word. A whisper. A curse.

“…Barmigia.”

The air froze.

Even Medusa flinched.

Nyx closed her eyes.
“I do not speak its name lightly.”

Raezel frowned.
“What is it?”

Ares met his gaze — and for the first time, there was no rage.
Only fear.

“A living storm,” he said. “Not a calamity. Not destruction. It doesn’t just end things — it erases them. Gods. Titans. Primordials. Even Typhon used to fear it.”

Raezel’s voice was low.
“Nothing can stop it?”

Nyx answered.
“No. Because it does not destroy. It unmakes. It is not death. It is the end.”

Nythren scoffed — weakly.
“So… you’re telling me this thing erases reality? That’s ridiculous.”

Silence.

A distant, low rumble shook the world.

Ares turned white.
“No. No, no, no, NO! That wasn’t supposed to happen!”

The walls of the hall trembled. Outside, warriors looked up, horror creeping across their faces.

Above them, the clouds twisted.
No lightning. No thunder. Just a silent, unnatural churning.
Like existence itself was unraveling.

Nyx opened her eyes.
Twin galaxies of dying stars burned in her gaze.

“It’s coming.”

Nythren crossed his arms, staring at the tear in the sky.
“Fantastic. We woke up the one thing that unravels reality.”

He glanced sideways at Ares.
“…I take it back. You were right.”

Ares wasn’t listening. 

He was already mourning his future.