The training grounds Ra chose were nothing like anything that we had in Olympus.
No marble colonnades or gleaming statues here—only sand, stretching in an endless field under a sky painted gold and crimson. The Duat itself seemed alive, humming with power. Obelisks of white stone jutted like teeth from the earth, carved with hieroglyphs that pulsed faintly with light. It was both beautiful and unnerving.
Ra stood at the center of the hall, her presence enough to quiet the chatter instantly. Even in her mortal-shaped body she glowed, every breath carrying the weight of a dawn breaking over endless horizons.
"Today," she said, her voice ringing like bronze struck by a hammer, "you six will begin learning to touch your divine forms. It will not come easily. At first, your bodies will resist, your minds will rebel, and your souls may feel as if they are splitting apart. But once you master it… it will become nothing more than second nature to you."
Ra spread her arms, and in an instant her body ignited. Flesh gave way to fire, her form towering above us—wings of living flame unfurled, each feather a blade of light. Her head became the regal falcon, eyes burning like twin suns, the crook and flail appeared blazing in her hands. The heat rolled off her in waves, shaking the area itself.
Then, just as suddenly, the fire collapsed inward, and she stood once more as a woman—smiling faintly, as though nothing at all had changed.
I glanced at my siblings. Hera looked focused, serene as always. Hestia is nervous but steady. Demeter chewed her lip, glancing between us for reassurance. Poseidon stretched his shoulders like he was preparing for a fistfight. And Zeus—of course—looked bored, picking dirt from under his nails.
Ra's gaze cut through us. "Every god across every pantheon undergoes this training in some way. The cocoon must be broken. Think of it as… going from a caterpillar into a butterfly in a matter of minutes."
"Lovely speech," Zeus muttered. "When do we actually do something?"
Ra ignored him. Instead, she raised her hands. "Close your eyes. Listen to your breath. Do not reach outward. Reach inward. Find your core, and bring out your true self."
I lowered myself to the sand, closing my eyes. The silence pressed heavily, broken only by Poseidon's restless sighs and Zeus's whispered commentary about how long this was going to take.
Hours bled into one another. Sweat and magic hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.
Poseidon was the first to crack it. One moment he was himself, the next, water surged from every pore, shaping and reshaping him as though the ocean itself had taken human form. His skin shimmered like rippling waves, veins glowing a deep, impossible blue. Arms stretched unnaturally, claws curling like coral-encrusted hooks. The scent of salt and storm rolled through the room, dampening robes and hair alike.
Then his mouth split, jagged teeth sliding into place like a shark cutting through the tide. His roar was a tsunami in sound, and the floor beneath us heaved with the weight of oceans incarnate.
He rose higher, body fluid and massive, a living, roaring storm nearly matching Ra's divine form in scale, water cascading from his limbs, droplets sizzling against the stone floor.
Poseidon threw back his head, eyes gleaming with pure, ecstatic awe. "Ha! Look at me! Look at this!" His voice thundered over the crackling spray as he raised his hand and a giant water trident formed. "Almighty me! Beautiful, unstoppable, magnificent!"
"Terrifying," Hestia corrected softly.
Zeus whistled. "Not bad, brother. Though you look like something I'd fry with lemon and butter."
Poseidon lunged at him, spraying water. Zeus dodged, laughing.
Ra clapped once, and Poseidon snapped back to normal, dripping and grinning. "Well done. The first cocoon broke."
Zeus, of course, couldn't let anyone steal the show.
He puffed out his chest, muttering about showing us all how it's really done, and then closed his eyes. Sparks erupted across his skin like a swarm of fireflies, crawling in frenetic, chaotic patterns. His hair whipped upward, carried by a storm wind that seemed to breathe from his very body. His veins glimmered with molten electricity, coiling like serpents under his skin.
When he opened his eyes, they burned pure white, brighter than the noonday sun. Lightning arced from his shoulders in jagged, writhing forks, each one snapping through the air with a hiss. His chest swelled, hollowing into a living storm cloud, thunder rolling and rumbling from within, making the sands underfoot tremble.
He towered over us, and his laugh tore through the arena like the sky itself cracking open. "Now this!" he boomed, voice shaking the air, "this is power!"
A bolt struck mere inches from me, melting sand into jagged black glass. I leapt back, heart hammering.
"Careful, idiot!" I shouted, shielding my eyes.
Zeus grinned, teeth flashing like twin lightning strikes. "Just testing my aim," he said, shrugging as if near-apocalyptic destruction were nothing more than a casual hobby.
Hera, arms crossed, rolled her eyes. "Save it for Typhon," she muttered, clearly unimpressed.
It took several minutes of cursing, sparks sputtering, and a few minor explosions before he shrank back into his mortal frame, chest heaving and hair still smoking at the tips. Even then, he wore a grin that promised the next attempt would be even bigger—and even more dangerous.
Hera, Hestia, and Demeter took longer to unlock their divine forms, their movements careful, deliberate—less about spectacle and more about control.
Hestia's form was a flame, but unlike Ra's blazing inferno, hers was calm and contained, a warm, steady fire that radiated comfort and stability rather than raw power. It danced around her arms and shoulders like a living cloak, flickering gently as she moved, casting soft light that made the shadows of the hall seem alive. Her eyes glowed amber, serene and unwavering, a hearth incarnate.
Demeter's transformation was quieter but no less commanding. She became a walking monstrous form of stalks of grain. Her hair flowed like rivers. The air around her smelled faintly of harvest, warm earth, and rain, and even in this strange form, her calm authority was undeniable.
Hera's divine form, in contrast, left no doubt as to why she had long been called the most beautiful of goddesses. Her body glowed with golden light that seemed to flow over every curve, highlighting her regal figure like sunlight on marble. Her shoulders and head were crowned in iridescent peacock feathers that shimmered with every color of dawn. The feathers quivered slightly, alive with the same vitality that shone from her eyes, and she moved with the confidence of one who knew both her power and her allure. She tilted her head, and even in this form, it was clear she commanded attention effortlessly, a queen among deities.
And then there was me.
Hours passed. My siblings had all crossed the threshold. I sat, silent, still.
Zeus jabbed at me every so often. "Maybe you just don't have one, brother. Imagine being so pathetic."
Poseidon tried to encourage me. "It's like the tide, Hades. Just imagine that you're drowning in your divinity and then you reach the bottom. Come on, reach for the bottom of the ocean!"
I sank deeper into my meditation, closing myself off from the world, from sound, from thought.
At first, there was nothing. Only the endless stillness of my own breathing. But slowly, imperceptibly at first, something began to stir—a cold, creeping sensation rising from the pit of my stomach. It slithered upward, sharp and hungry, spreading through my limbs, coiling around my spine like ice-water.
The shadows responded. They emerged from the ground beneath me, pooling and writhing, crawling up my legs as if the earth itself had begun to obey me. They thickened and condensed, twisting around my body until I could feel the darkness pressing against my skin, sinking into my bones, reshaping me from the inside out.
My body melted and reformed, reshaping itself with a violence both beautiful and terrifying. My hands stretched into jagged claws, nails like obsidian shards. My spine cracked audibly, and from my skull erupted horns—long, jagged, spiraling like a crown forged in some impossible inferno. My chest broadened, my shoulders thickened, every breath a gust that rattled the air around me.
When I opened my eyes, the world snapped into unbearable clarity. Light no longer simply shone—it poured into me, and I could feel it, the divinity of the air itself, being absorbed, drawn into my body. My own form pulsed like a black hole, hunger and gravity coiling through me. Every living thing, every spark of godly power around me, seemed to bend toward me, feeding the sensation of absolute presence.
And then I realized: I was towering over them all. Not just taller—monumental. The others looked impossibly small, ants beneath the shadow of my gaze. My vision, sharpened and keen, took in every detail—the tremble of leaves, the flinch of a god's eye, the subtle ripples of magic around the Colosseum.
For the first time, I understood the gulf between mortals and the divine. And I understood something else, too: the terrible, intoxicating joy of absolute power.
Every god in the circle stumbled back a step. Even Ra's golden gaze sharpened.
Zeus whispered, voice hoarse, "What… what the actual hell."
My voice came out layered, echoing, too deep to be mortal. "Wow this truly feels grand, the power is so intoxicating."
Returning to mortal form was agony. The shadows clung to me, resisting, writhing, refusing to release their grip. Every pulse of energy I tried to rein in felt like wrestling with a living storm. I gasped, muscles trembling, mind screaming, until at last I was myself again—sweating, shivering, yet undeniably alive.
The silence that followed was heavy, charged, almost sacred.
Poseidon broke it first, letting out a low whistle. "Well," he said, shaking his head with a grin, "guess we know who not to piss off."
Zeus said nothing. Not a joke, not a laugh. He just stared, narrowed eyes fixed on me, the faintest flicker of unease betraying the unspoken thought: this was a rival he had never truly anticipated.
Ra stepped forward, her steps quiet but commanding, the glow of her presence softened only slightly by what she had witnessed. She raised a hand, and the room felt lighter, calmer, as if the divine fire itself bent to her will.
"Good," she said, voice warm but edged with authority. "Terrifying… yes. But good. That raw power is yours, but it is not all of what you are. There are… rules."
"First: do not push your divine form too far. The energy, the power—it will fight back if you are reckless. Second: mortals cannot witness a god's true form. Not even a glimpse. If they do… well," she paused, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air, "…they combust."
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that warning settle over me.
"The basics are simple," she continued. "You must learn to make this power natural. To transform at will, back and forth, in the blink of an eye. It will come with practice, repetition, and patience. And when it does, you will move through your divine self as effortlessly as breathing. Then you will be truly ready."
🙛🙚🙛🙚🙛🙚⯡🙘🙙🙘🙙🙘🙙
We left the Duat two days later, after days of training, meals, and more stories than I could count from Ra's court. I almost hated to leave. For all its strangeness, the Duat had been… welcoming. Safe, even. A realm of light and shadow where gods laughed together without suspicion, where my siblings and I weren't at each other's throats every other hour.
But Greece was waiting for us.
Ra gathered us in the sunlit courtyard for our farewell. Her radiance seemed softer than usual, as though she meant to comfort us rather than overwhelm. Around her, the other Egyptian gods stood in a semi-circle.
Ra spread her arms. "Our Greek friends, we wish you luck in your battle. I do hope that everything goes right."
Zeus puffed up like a rooster. "Don't you worry. We will definitely win against Typhon!"
Poseidon elbowed him. "Try not to electrocute yourself first."
Ra gave me a long look as though trying to see past my skin. For once, her smile carried something almost like unease. I bowed my head, unsure whether to take it as compliment or warning. Maybe both.
And then, as soon as one of the guards opened the exit. We left the Duat behind as we vanished and teleported to Greece.
The first breath of Greek air was like choking on ash.
We stood on the hill that once overlooked our homeland. What greeted us was ruin.
The forests, once green, were blackened. Rivers stank with decay. Villages lay in rubble, roofs caved in, walls gnawed by fire and claw alike. In the distance, Mount Olympus loomed, wreathed in storm—lightning tearing the skies apart, clouds so thick the mountain seemed swallowed whole.
Monsters prowled openly, their cries echoing through valleys. A hydra slithered along a broken road, snapping its heads at carrion crows. Packs of hellhounds hunted peasants across open fields. The air reeked of blood and ozone.
Hera covered her mouth with her hand. "By the Fates…"
Demeter's eyes watered as she took in the scorched earth. "My fields. My people…"
Poseidon grimaced. "Looks like Typhon's having fun."
Zeus clenched his fists, jaw set. "We need Olympus. We take the mountain back, and destroy that damn storm beast."
"Storm or not," Hera said sharply, "we'd be killed before we reached the base. We need strategy, not foolishly charging in head first."
Their bickering started immediately, but my eyes were already drawn downward—past the broken roads, into the dark horizon where the entrance to the Underworld should lie.
My kingdom. My ruin.
"We need a base," I said, cutting through their noise. "Olympus is suicide right now, though my palace still stands—mostly. It will make a good shelter for us until we decide our next step."
They looked at me. Zeus sneered. "Your ruin, you mean."
I met his gaze, unblinking. "Even in ruin, having a secure base would be a lot better. Unless you'd rather sleep in the mud?"
He didn't argue after that.
The gates of the Underworld were worse than I remembered.
The black marble had cracked, fissures glowing faintly as though the earth itself bled beneath them. Torches sputtered without flame. The air was heavy, not with power but with neglect—my kingdom left untended, abandoned.
We walked through the ruined halls of my once-great palace. Columns had toppled. Statues lay shattered. Dust choked the air. My throne room was a skeleton of itself, its roof half-collapsed, the obsidian throne still standing like a scar.
We decided to set up base in the Great Hall, as Demeter, Hera, and Hestia immediately began fussing. "We will go ahead and get an area cleaned up," Hera said, rolling up her sleeves.
"You? Clean?" Zeus snorted.
She shot him a glare so sharp it nearly cut him in half. "Yes. Unlike you, I am not going to just sit around and stay in this filth, no offense Hades."
"None taken, usually my kingdom is a lot more clean than this." I say looking around.
Demeter coaxed vines from cracked stone to rebind the walls. Hestia lit the Hearth to warm up the room. Hera barked orders until even Zeus begrudgingly began to move rubble. Poseidon summoned streams of water to wash the grime from the floors.
I stood at the edge of it all, watching them breathe life into my corpse of a home. Strange—how easily they worked together when they had something tangible to fix.
By nightfall, the palace looked less like ruin and more like a fortress waiting to rise again.
A long stone table had been dragged into place, cracked but serviceable. Torches flickered along the walls, casting shadows across tired faces as we tried to come up with a good plan, but soon exhaustion was too much for us as everyone headed to find a place to sleep.
I moved toward my throne room as I slouched in my throne, staring up at the half-collapsed ceiling. The cracks above let thin streams of moonlight through, cutting the darkness into jagged stripes. Dust floated lazily in the air.
This was my home. My ruin. My burden.
I didn't hear her enter, but the room shifted the moment she did.
The shadows grew heavier, thicker, curling like wolves around the corners of my chamber. The torches guttered and went out, snuffed as though bowing to her presence.
Hecate.
"You look comfortable," she said, her voice dry as ash and smoke.
I snorted without looking up. "Comfortable? I've been staring at a ceiling crack for an hour. A king's life is full of such luxury."
Her laugh was soft, amused. "Still dramatic, I see."
I turned my head slightly, catching the faint curve of her lips. "I learned from the best."
Her robes whispered against the stone as she came closer, moonlight sliding across the silk like water over obsidian. She didn't sit on the throne, not quite. Instead, she perched herself on the armrest beside me, her shoulder brushing close enough that I could feel her warmth through the fabric of my robe. Close… but not too close.
"You're brooding again," she said simply.
"That's my occupation," I replied.
"Brooding doesn't fix kingdoms." With a flick of her fingers, the last of the torches died. Moonlight flooded the chamber through the skylight she had woven into the stone weeks ago, silver and pale, bending to her will. She had given me that gift—the sun by day, the moon by night. A reminder that even in the Underworld, light could be coaxed from the dark.
Her face was close now, almost brushing mine. The moonlight painted her pale skin, made her eyes gleam like twin pools of starlight.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I know that no matter what happens, that you are going to win this war. No matter what it takes."
I shifted, just enough to catch the meaning in her gaze. "I sure hope that you are right," I said, my voice low.
Her hand brushed mine— as silence swelled between us, thick and electric. Shadows wrapped tighter around the throne, coiling like serpents. My breath slowed, matching the steady rhythm of hers.
I almost turned to her. Almost.
Instead, I leaned back into the cold marble, forcing the moment to pass. "Careful, Hecate. You'll make me believe you actually care."
Her laugh was soft, quiet, curling in the dark like incense smoke. But it lingered long after the sound faded, like a whisper that refused to die.
"Maybe I do," she said.