Raezel turned sharply toward Ares, golden eyes burning.
“There has to be a way to stop Barmigia.”

Ares clenched his jaw.
“You think if there was a way, I wouldn’t already be running toward it?”

He exhaled—sharp, bitter.
“Before Perseus was nearly killed by Medusa… everyone believed he’d erase her from existence.”

Silence.

The torches flickered. The air thickened.

One by one, every pair of eyes turned to Ares.

He blinked. “What?”

Krios folded his arms. His voice was low.

“What then? Should we be proud of our mother? Declare war on the gods? Or…”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you suggesting something else?”

Ares stepped back, hands raised.
“Hold on. That’s not—”

Nyssa, quiet until now, raised a brow.
“So even you acknowledge Mother’s power?”

Ares groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Fine. Maybe I am saying Medusa’s existence is proof that some things survive the impossible. Maybe. Possibly. Ugh.”

Nyx stepped forward. Her voice was calm, but final.
“If Medusa is the answer… we must understand why.”

Raezel’s reply was steady.
“Because she survived what was meant to erase her.”

Krios murmured, “She was supposed to be erased… yet she remained. A contradiction in existence itself.”

Nythren tilted his head.

“So if we figure out why Theía remained, maybe we’ll understand how to stop Barmigia.”

Ares ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

“That’s a lovely theory. And how do you plan to test it? Ask the storm itself?”

Nythren’s eyes lit up.
“That’s an excellent idea.”

Ares snapped.

“THAT WAS SARCASM, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!”

Raezel didn’t flinch. His eyes shifted—to the one who mattered most.

Medusa was silent. Her smirk was gone, replaced by something cold, ancient. Her gaze lifted toward the roiling heavens.

She spoke, voice low and lethal.

“Then let me see… if I am truly the defiance of fate.”

Ares stood frozen.
“You’re actually going to fight Barmigia?”

Nyx nodded. Her glowing eyes didn’t waver.
“Then I will stand with you—Medusa.”

“You can’t be serious!” Ares barked.

“You’re the goddess of night! You know what we’re facing! Barmigia doesn’t just destroy—it unravels. This isn’t a battle. It’s a cosmic death sentence!”

Nythren leaned lazily against a pillar, smirking.
“Relax, Ares. You’re not the first to have an existential crisis today.”

Ares turned on him.

“You’re all insane! This isn’t just another monster! Barmigia erases reality! You can’t fight something that doesn’t even follow the rules!”

Nyssa folded her arms. Her tone cut deep.

“So what? You’d rather cower and wait for the end? Because you think we’re too weak?”

“I’m not saying that!” Ares snapped. 

“I’m saying… we’re not prepared! We don’t even know if it can be stopped!”

Raezel stepped forward. His voice was calm, unyielding.
“Then we learn. We adapt. We fight.”

Ares opened his mouth—then closed it.

Because the truth was…

He didn’t care about Velmor.
He didn’t care about mortals.
He didn’t even care about saving reality.

But he did care about survival.

And if Medusa and Nyx—two of the most powerful beings in existence—were willing to stand against this…

Then maybe there was a sliver of hope.

He exhaled.
“Fine. I’ll fight.”

Nyx raised a brow. “To stand with us?”

Ares scoffed.
“No. To make sure I don’t die here.”

Nythren burst out laughing.
“At least he’s honest.”

Nyssa smirked.
“Cowardice and strategy are the same thing to him.”

Ares glared, but said nothing.

Medusa didn’t laugh—but her eyes held the faintest flicker of cold amusement.

Nyx nodded solemnly.
“Then let us prepare. The storm is coming.”