CHAPTER XVI

Author's Note: I apologise so deeply for abandoning this story. I want to continue it until the end. As a part of my apology, I am preparing something special for everyone.

WARNING: Mature

Ma'at hung motionless in the air with an austerity that suspended the room in stillness.

Her incandescent wings, seeming to shift among dozens of colours in a second, shuddered at the gentle draft that passed through the hall, yet her expression did not falter. The unwavering gaze of her dark, almond eyes fixed upon Hades.

Athena stared at the goddess, unashamedly transfixed. It had been centuries – even millennia possibly – since she had seen an Egyptian god enter Olympus. The Egyptians were revered for their assiduity, diligence and their dedication to maintaining balance both on Earth and within their own realm. Despite their being one of the more trusted pantheons, Zeus was not a trusting king and guarded Olympus closely, seldom allowing gods of foreign pantheons to enter.

If Ma'at is here, Athena thought as she glanced at Zeus, the situation must be grave.

'You were aware of her presence,' Zeus said, a cold composure seeming to return to him with Ma'at's appearance.

'Of course,' Hades reclined in his seat, apparently affected by the same sudden composure, 'our kind implement a similar sort of magic, she and I.'

Hades sighed, threading his fingers through one another and resting his hands on his knee.

'So, this is what it has come to. My fellow Olympians are subjecting me to some sort of test to gauge my loyalty,' Hades extended his hand toward Ma'at, 'then so be it.'

Ma'at's wings rippled like satin sheets in the wind and colours that Athena had never seen before – surely native to the sands and sky of Egypt – travelled across each feather. With a jarring stillness, Ma'at slowly descended from her place above Zeus' head to the centre of the table and just a few feet away from Hades.

Now a little closer, Athena could see the profile of her face. Her skin was the colour of clay and adorned by a mild dewiness, as though she had just been in the sun. Shaped and formed by clean, smooth lines, her face and all of its features seemed to be created with the flicks of a calligrapher's brush.

'The truth,' she said in a warm, round voice, 'is not merely that. It is a matter, a material, that is imbued in the very essence of our existence. Though immutable it may be, it is delicate and wanes,' Ma'at gently plucked a feather from her left wing as her words hung in the air.

'Under the weight of falsehood.'

Before Hades, a shimmering object began to materialise. A golden scale, inscribed with the arcane script of the Egyptians. The feather between Ma'at's hand swept through her fingers and almost with a sentience of its own flew towards Hades before halting just above his fingers. Colours danced across its vanes.

'The truth should weigh no more than the weight of a single feather,' said Ma'at. Commanded by her voice, the feather above Hades' hand plucked its silver quill into the tip of his middle finger.

A bead of blood bloomed from his skin.

Tipping his hand over the right cup of the scale, Hades allowed the blood to stream into it. Blood flowed quickly and only filled half of the small cup before stopping completely. The scale tipped towards right ever so slightly.

Having completed the more invasive part of its task, the feather gently drifted toward the scale and landed on the left cup.

The scale balanced perfectly.

Ma'at rose in the air a few feet and did not speak another word. The hall filled with a deafening silence once more.

'Well,' Hades folded his arms across his chest with nonchalance, 'go on.'

Zeus regarded Hades with a darkened expression before pulling on his beard pensively, and then folding his own arms across his chest. Sitting on opposite ends of the table, they almost looked to be mirror images of one another.

The tension in the room was palpable and the anticipation even greater. This was the moment in which all of the burning questions that had been plaguing Olympus – the origin of the beasts; who sent them – would be answered. Ma'at's scale could not be tricked or fooled by any sort of sorcery. If Hades tried to obscure the truth, the scale would tip towards the right and expose his lies – the retribution for which would be unprecedented.

After a brief silence, one which Athena could hardly bear, Zeus spoke.

'Hades, the beasts that have been appearing on Olympus and Earth – were they sent by you to assail our realms?'

The question was succinct and could not be misconstrued. Athena's stomach knotted as she stared at the scales. Hades blinked.

'No.'

The scales did not move. If it was at all possible, the room was more silent than it was before.

Athena blinked a few times, wondering if she had perhaps missed it. A slight quiver of the scales, a momentary dip – but no. The scales had maintained the same eerie stillness that Ma'at displayed only a few feet above their heads. Athena didn't dare glance at one of the other gods but she could feel the sense of disbelief that gripped the room.

Zeus narrowed his eyes at Hades, who looked at him curiously with dark, hooded eyes.

'Did you create these beasts?'

'No.'

'Do you command them?'

'No.'

Nothing. The scales had not tipped an inch. Athena, mouth feeling a little dry, glanced up at Ma'at.

Athena was reminded by her placid expression that she did not have a dog in this fight. Her role was merely to arbitrate – to offer her services, bear witness to this mess that Olympus was in and then return to her own pantheon. The tension that crushed the room was not hers to bear, so she could quite literally float above it all. With a voiceless sigh, Athena envied her position.

'By whom are they commanded?' Zeus' expression remained cold.

'They are commanded by nothing more than their instincts. Their beastly impulses, I would assume.' Hades said with a dismissive gesture, but his voice was steadier than ever.

Zeus inspected Hades carefully and Athena could tell that he didn't believe him. However, as everyone observed, the scales had not moved. Hades was still telling the truth.

'If they are not commanded by any one god, who is creating the portals from which they are being spawned?'

Hades glanced off to the side, his eyebrows raised slightly. He thought to himself for a moment.

'That much is still unclear to me.' He said pensively.

'Then what is clear to you?' Poseidon suddenly said with a terseness that Athena hadn't heard him use in a while.

'Brother,' he continued, looking at Zeus, 'I must interject so we may reach a conclusion and end this senseless infighting.'

Poseidon directed his attention at Hades now, his cool lagoon blue eyes belying a profound disquiet.

'Just what is clear to you? Surely, these attacks are not news to you. Their inception must have aroused your suspicion at some point. Tell us everything you know.'

Hades fixed upon Poseidon for some time before he sighed, closing his eyes and reclining ever so slightly in his seat.

'Millenia here, high up on Mount Olympus, has disconnected you all from how our realms truly function.' he pointed one slender index finger to the ceiling, 'The distance from the highest point of our heavens to the Underworld is equivalent to the distance between the Underworld and Tartarus. While many of you find it a simple thing to stroll into the Underworld as you please, the same cannot be said for Tartarus. It is heavily guarded; I send the souls of the damned to the wretched place and go about my business. I have no control over what goes on over there; who is held where, which punishments are delivered to whom – I pass my judgment on the damned and attend to the rest in the Underworld.'

For the first time, the scale tilted to the right less than a centimetre before returning to its original position.

Hera had not dared to utter a single word after her earlier outburst – until this moment.

'It moved,' she said quietly, before indignance flashed across her eyes, 'you're lying–'

'A half-truth,' Ma'at interjected and the room was suddenly reminded of her presence, 'the scale has detected that the interrogee has spoken his truth, but has not attended to the request made by the interrogator.'

Ma'at's eyes fell upon Hades and he returned the gaze with equal intensity.

'It was asked of you to tell everything you know,' her voice, for the first time, took a personal tone, 'there is a truth that you have omitted.'

Athena glanced between Hades and Ma'at. She would give quite literally anything to not be suffocated by the air in this room, but she would be damned if she didn't discover the outcome of all of this.

'Admittedly,' Hades tore his eyes from Ma'at, 'I felt the need to do some investigating of my own. When I first sensed that several portals had opened on Olympus and Earth, I thought nothing of it. It is not a totally unnatural occurrence – humans and other preternatural creatures often make attempts at creating and opening portals, resulting in all sorts of outcomes from half-portals to small rifts that usually close themselves after a short period of time. The situation only truly piqued my interest when Hermes reported to me that all of these portals had been churning out chimeras.'

Hades shifted in his seat, seeming to search for a more comfortable position. Once he found it, he continued fluidly.

'Now, as some of you might know, I am quite the collector of strange, feral beasts. They prove to be excellent guard creatures, much like my Cerberus. It is true that there are a few dozen chimeras roaming the Underworld, patrolling restricted areas. So, when Hermes told me of the chimeras on Earth and in Olympus, as agreed, I checked my inventory,' Hades raised his hands and shrugged, 'and none were missing.'

A hum filled the room as the gods glanced between one another and muttered, refusing to believe Hades' words. Athena stared at the scale. It did not move. It was true.

'Let the scales of Lady Ma'at be my witness,' Hades said above the hum and the hall fell silent again, 'it is true. None of the chimeras that appeared on Olympus or Earth were from the Underworld, and from the reports I hear about their behaviour, it is highly unlikely that they would be. The beasts I own are centuries old, from an age when their appearances on Earth were quotidian. They are sharper creatures, their actions wise and calculated. These beasts appearing in your kingdom rampage with little concern for self-preservation. From this, I concluded that they were not ancient creatures, but instead conceived shortly before their arrival on Earth and Olympus. From this point, my investigation began. I had several suspicions and factors–'

'If I may–' a soft, musical voice echoed from the opposite end of the table. The attention of the room was drawn to Apollo who looked pale.

'Forgive me,' he looked at Hades, 'but I must ask. Why did you not inform us of this investigation? Surely, you must have known that our suspicions would have fallen unto you?'

'I knew that if I had told Olympus of my reservations, I would not be allowed to investigate in peace. Some of you,' Hades looked between Hera and Zeus, 'would have taken the reigns right from my hands in the pursuit of trivialities such as 'glory'; the Underworld would be teeming with Olympian dogs and I would be designated the task of liaising between Olympus and Tartarus; a task, if you've ever been exposed to Tartarus' disposition, that is rather unpleasant.'

Athena knew this to be true. Tartarus might have been a great, sinking abyss, a prison, but he was nonetheless a god. Like any other god he had a temperament, and after being used as the dumping ground of Olympus, Earth and the Underworld, filled to the brim with undesirables, it was justifiable to declare him as 'moody'. The only Olympian he interacted with regularly was Hades, who was merely executing his own job and if there was one thing the gods could bond over, it was just how undesirable both of their jobs were. Hades would indeed be the perfect liaison – and he would hate it.

'My methods are unconventional, I'll admit. It was easier to have you all believe it was my doing; that I was suddenly struck by a bout of mischief, dipping down to Tartarus to nick a few ferocious beasts, training them for havoc in the Underworld and then unleashing them across the realms above me. I knew that if Olympus believed that those were my 'antics,' little interest would be roused; only a few henchmen would be sent to see me. Of course, that all changed when the frequency of the attacks increased, but nonetheless it was an easy role to play – the resentful, gloomy, problem child.'

Each of Hades' words rung out in the hall as he looked between his brothers. Poseidon and Zeus glanced at one another, their expressions complicated. The room was silent and the scales had not tipped, so Hades continued.

'As I was saying,' Hades folded his hands over his lap, 'there were several suspicions and factors I had to eliminate. Were they coming from Tartarus or another realm? Was this foul-play by the hands of another entity, seeking the destruction of Earth and Olympus? I travelled to Tartarus in hopes of communing with the god himself, but was promptly halted by the Hecatonchires who stated that their master was in no condition to receive an audience, that the conduct of his 'inmates' had left him in a temperamental mood and I'd best leave him to do his work. I returned to the Underworld in the hopes of debunking a different theory – that the creatures were being spawned by a god within our realms. So, I did some spawning of my own.'

Zeus shifted forward in his seat, his face turning a shade of scarlet. There was an electricity in the air that made the hairs on Athena's neck stand on end.

'Hades–' Zeus boomed.

'Once.' Hades said with equal force, returning Zeus' glare and holding one finger in the air.

Hera's head whipped towards the scales and then to Ma'at.

'Then these scales are faulty,' she said with her resident haughtiness, 'King Zeus asked if he was responsible for the beast attacks and if he commanded them and he answered–'

'No.' Hades interjected firmly. Hera turned to him, her face a mix of indignance and uncertainty. Hades inspected her sternly.

'I answered no,' his dark eyes bore into her, 'I did not command the creature, I did not create it and I did not spawn it with the purpose of having it "assail Olympus." I spawned it purely to gauge how much time and power would be needed to spawn a creature of its size into another realm. The creature, a Basilisk, was one I had taken a liking to centuries ago, but it caused quite a bit of trouble in the Underworld and I thought it to be an excellent test subject, especially for its volatile, ungovernable nature.'

'You endangered Olympus as a part of some warped and perverse experiment,' Zeus eyes darkened dangerously and the air in the room became thick.

'As I said,' Hades did not react, 'my methods are unconventional – and for good reason. Because what I did discover was that it would be near impossible for any one god to spawn that many beasts on Earth and Olympus simultaneously in that short of an amount of time without expending an unimaginable amount of energy and drawing attention to themselves. The number of seals and incantation I had to place on the Basilisk, along with trying to get it to hold still, was enough of a task on its own. To then do that to multiple beasts of different breeds; chimeras, a cyclops, manticores, harpies, Clazmonian boars as well as hybrid creatures – it would be near impossible. Even for all of Olympus' shortcomings, someone would have noticed.'

'Make your point, Hades.' Zeus spoke.

'The point is, no one was spawning them from Olympus, no one was spawning them from Earth, and save for one, none were spawned from the Underworld. The only other explanation, as I had initially suspected, was that they were the product of some dire situation in Tartarus. So, I travelled there again and this time I persisted with the Hecatonchires. Reluctantly, they allowed me entry and an audience with their master.'

A short pause followed. Athena held her breath.

'I conversed with Tartarus.' Hades said with a strange calm.

'Humbly, I informed him of the beasts and the spawnings and inquired as to why they were occurring. Surprisingly, Tartarus, the primordial monolith he is, was rather forthcoming. The 'inmates' that had been causing quite a commotion in Tartarus turned out to be only one. This dormant entity, that had been rather inactive for the last few millennia, had started to do in its dormancy what all creatures of its kind do when situated in prime conditions: it started to breed.'

Athena glanced around the room, and the hum of uncertainty that once filled it returned. As she looked toward Hades, a look of dark amusement crept across his face. He begun to clap.

Slowly.

'What do you know, Zeus?' Hades said with one final clap, 'It turns out that throwing the fiercest, most ferocious cave dwelling bane of our kind into an equally dark, cold and forsaken environment only fed and ameliorated his power, so much so that he is spewing out sons and daughters in his sleep.'

Hades' face darkened as he looked at his brother. It seemed as though everyone else in the room had disappeared.

'Typhon is breeding.'

The hall fell into a deathly silence. Upheaval followed.

Hera shot up in her seat, her violet robes seeming to fly up with her. Her eyes flashed as they shot daggers at Hades.

'Impossible!' her shrill voice almost broke.

'Typhon?' Apollo turned to Poseidon almost searchingly and then glanced around the room. His face had drained of all of its colour and was almost sheer, his blue veins glowing beneath his pallid skin.

'Typhon was vanquished millennia ago,' Poseidon said disbelievingly, 'shortly after the Titans. What do you mean 'breeding'? And how does that–'

A clap of thunder boomed across Olympus and shook the hall.

Athena flinched. Turning to Zeus, she saw that his arms were folded across his chest, his expression had barely changed and his gaze was situated directly upon Hades. He said nothing and the room was quiet. Hera returned to her seat swiftly, her dress billowing as she did.

Hades smirked, a small chuckle escaping him.

'I believe that is my cue to continue. Evidently,' he glanced at Hera briefly, 'it is not so impossible – because it's happening. It seems that being in rather 'cave-like' conditions has allowed Typhon to thrive, and even without his mate Echidna, he is bearing and spawning offspring at an alarming rate. So much so that the guards, including the Hecatonchires, are having trouble rounding them up before they escape.'

'Why only Earth and Olympus? Why have none found their way to the Underworld?' a voice all too familiar to Athena spoke, velvety and deep in tone.

She refused to look up at the seat across from hers, and felt her ears, well hidden behind her mess of wild hair, heat up.

'Perhaps, in his slumber,' Hades looked at Ares, 'Typhon longs for 'home'. A return to his place of birth and to his primordial mother – Gaia. As for why they keep appearing on Olympus– well, Olympus is merely a mountain upon the green flesh of Gaia herself. These are all theories of course; it is still unclear whether Typhon is knowingly making these portals and spawnings, or if they are the product of his offspring themselves. All I can be sure of is that, unless some plan is made, the attacks will continue to grow in frequency and force and…why, who knows what will happen to your beloved Olympus?'

Athena's mind was reeling and an anxiety she had not felt in a long time pooled in the pit of her belly.

Typhon was the most powerful and heinous creature that had ever set its sights on Olympus. He and Echidna were the progenitors of every feral beast and creature that plagued the realms. The Hydra, the Cyclopes, Charybdis and Scylla, the Gorgons and every other beast and beast hybrid imaginable were the result of Typhon's seed.

Back then, millennia ago, Typhon arose with the intention of ceasing Olympus, still a new and thriving kingdom. It took the efforts of every Olympian to stave off his attacks and those of his offspring, but it was Zeus who defeated the beast, subdued him and threw him into Tartarus to be held prisoner for eternity. Though the battle against Typhon had been won, it did not go without great casualty. Olympus truly felt the blow and several centuries passed before the golden kingdom regained its lustre. The attack of Typhon and the war against the Titans were the two most historic and iconic wars in Olympian history. They were also the two most dreaded events, if anything like them were to occur again.

Zeus finally spoke after some time.

'A plan, you say,' he eyed his brother carefully, 'and what might that entail?'

Hades eyes widened. His expression was incredulous at first, but he quickly broke into a wide grin and howled with laughter.

'Oh! But I've done my part,' he placed his hand on his chest, satisfaction creeping across his face, 'while Olympus, the shining pantheon, the paragon of unity and honour above the rest, pointed a finger at a fellow Olympian and deemed one of its own to be culpable for this fiendish mess, quietly I did my part. I investigated, I researched, I experimented – I did what I could for my Olympian brethren and here I am, dragged to a disciplinary hearing and condemned, only to be exculpated by your very arbitrator, is that not right Lady Ma'at?'

Hades looked up at Ma'at as he gestured towards the motionless scale. Ma'at did not respond and gazed at Hades with the same mild expression. Everyone in at the table, with the exception of Hades and Zeus, shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

'This information,' Hades eyes fixed upon his brother as he shook his head, offering him a cold smile, 'is delivered to you gratis. I am neither a resident of Olympus, nor Earth, therefore what plan could I conceive that would surpass a plan created by the King of the upper realms himself? I shall do my work governing the Underworld, as is required of me. But, when you do need information from me, I shall be forthcoming. After all, who better to trust to be honest with Olympus,' Hades gestured to the scale once more, 'when Olympus cannot be honest with itself?'

Hades folded his hands neatly over his knee, the stern features of his face curling into a beguiling smile.

'You're welcome.'

A black mist engulfed Hades and danced around his form, his velvet suit shimmering beneath the waves of black and grey that raced about him. In an excellent show, the mist cleared and he was gone.

Hades' blood in one cup and the glittering feather in the other, the scales stood as still as the very air in the hall.