Disclaimer: I don't own Trials of Apollo

Ichor warning continues for this chapter!

APOLLO XXVII

Mother of monsters
And her horrific husband
We can't win this fight

Apollo was terrified. It was taking everything he had to stay upright, to not fall over in an ungainly lump of ichor and leaking essence as his form desperately tried to heal, but without a miracle, he couldn't see how they were going to escape the monstrous couple.

It wasn't even his looming erasure from existence that terrified him the most; he'd faced that before, with Python on the very edge of Chaos, and it was hardly a comfortable feeling but it paled in comparison to dark glittering eyes and the knowledge that the moment he fell, Will would be Styx's.

Perhaps Koios was right, and he'd been trying too hard to fulfil the prophecy after all.

Typhon responded in a language long dead before Apollo had been born, the rumbling noise of an off-key orchestra as clashing sounds pierced through his essence, words unintelligible. The elongated, bloated fingers tipped with serpentine heads – what was it with monsters and snakes – were easier to understand as they lashed out at Hades.

His uncle slashed back desperately, cutting off the snake heads of the first to reach him, but he was off balance and barely holding himself together. Apollo had no weapons, no time to even try and summon a fresh bow from the distant Overworld – and never had the Overworld felt so far away as it did at that moment – but he couldn't just stand by as his uncle was torn to shreds.

Koios got there first, massive sword blocking the initial onslaught. "We will make it to the surface," he grit out, his countenance devoid of amusement for the first time since he'd caught up with them and made things complicated and threatening in ways Apollo really didn't want to deal with.

There was something about his insistence that had been bothering Apollo. The future wasn't solid, nothing more than a trail of potentials unless events fell in the exact manner to draw one into existence, and Koios should know that at least as well as Apollo did – better, arguably.

And yet.

Koios was convinced that he would make it to the surface, had mentioned his sister but not his mother, and Nico and Will had been talking about Artemis, so it made sense. Apollo was certain that his grandfather had seen it, not just as a possibility but as a very, very rare certainty that Apollo in four and a half millennia had never experienced himself. Even now, the Fates had shown him nothing of the sort, but it wouldn't be the first time they hadn't shown him something important. For all that he did see, he didn't see far more, and he could believe that Koios saw different things.

The only thing that was missing was how.

How they were going to get out of Tartarus – how they were going to get away from Typhon and Echidna long enough to even try.

Bob had joined the fray, spinning his broken spear aggressively to keep Typhon back, but it only seemed to be extending the inevitable. Apollo threw himself closer, letting out a shout because his voice was the only weapon he had left, but Typhon was so loud he didn't seem to even notice. A tail swept past him, catching him in the stomach and smashing him into Hades, which in turn sent them like skittles into the titans.

They landed in an ichor-covered mess at one of Typhon's feet.

Being so thoroughly beaten had become a second nature to Apollo as a mortal, when Lester could barely fight in the first place, but as Apollo, as a god, it was alien.

Not even Python had been this powerful, but Typhon had always been known as the strongest of Gaia's children, had sent them scattering to Egypt the first time they saw him for a reason. Adding Echidna into the mix hadn't even been necessary.

"The way out?" Koios hissed, detangling himself from his position at the bottom of the heap. Apollo found himself flung to the ground and clawed his way upright slowly, feeling more than seeing his uncle's dark essence trying to pull itself together again. He reached out his own, battered essence to support Hades – if he couldn't fight, he could at least heal – and felt the streak of light within his uncle respond sluggishly.

"A way out?" Echidna repeated, laughing lightly behind her fangs. "There isn't one, titan. You will cease to exist here and now."

There was a crack, too sharp and crisp to be natural, or Tartarus tearing up beneath them. The resulting force shoved the monsters back a pace, but Apollo wasn't looking at them anymore, not when two massive doors had appeared right in front of him.

For the briefest moment, Apollo's startled mind thought that somehow the doors to Olympus had reached Tartarus, before he realised that the colours were all wrong – black and silver in place of white and gold – and that the disembodied frames were the pitch darkness of Stygian Iron.

Then they opened.

"Lord Hades!" Thanatos called, as pale as Apollo had ever seen him – the exact shade of pale he'd been in his vision – but gripping his scythe in a way that was clearly meant for battle. "Lord Apollo!"

"Th-" Hades began, but Apollo wasn't hesitating and wasn't going to let his uncle hesitate either. His vision in the prison hadn't been the present, it had been the future and that future was now, Thanatos had felt Tartarus rising, realised that they would never escape without help, and for reasons Apollo couldn't even begin to fathom, come to get them.

There was no time for any other thoughts, for everything else Apollo had seen in the vision and their implications. He grabbed his uncle and ran. Hades didn't fight him, missing the context Apollo had but clearly realising what Thanatos' presence meant: a way out. It was hardly graceful or elegant; neither of them were much more than spilling essence barely contained within an ichor-coated, fragile form.

"No!" Echidna roared, echoed innumerable times by Typhon's deep growl. She lunged for them, but Thanatos was there, his scythe blocking the massive body and covering them as Apollo and Hades all but fell through the Doors of Death, a bright streak of golden ichor in their wake.

Bob tumbled through after them, and then, to Apollo's resigned horror, Koios barged his way in just as Thanatos retreated after them, scythe whirling and slashing in a way the god of peaceful death rarely used – but not never, and it was clear Thanatos knew how to be violent and vicious as he opened up a gash along Echidna's flank, hacked off reaching snake-headed fingers as Typhon reached for him, then took the split second opening of their clear surprise at a god not known for his combat causing them injury to turn tail and fly through the doors.

They slammed shut the instant the last iridescent black feather of his wings passed through, and everything shifted.

"Who is pressing the button?" Koios demanded. "What is stopping them from following?" His sword was still at the ready as he warily watched the closed doors.

Thanatos ignored him, crouching down by Hades and Apollo as they slowly pulled themselves together. "I trust your business is concluded, Lord Hades," he said, with a glance at Bob.

"It had better be," Hades replied, his voice slightly husky – not that Apollo could comment when he was in at least as much of a state. "I am not returning there."

That was a sentiment Apollo whole-heartedly agreed with.

Koios, on the other hand, didn't appear to take being ignored kindly as he bashed his sword into the floor hard enough that the ichor pooling around them splashed up.

"Have you trapped us here?" he demanded. Even Bob looked disquieted, and Thanatos finally turned to face the titans, looking extremely unimpressed.

"These are my Doors," he said firmly. "Unlike titans who steal them and then bastardise their use, I do not need outside influence to use them. We will shortly arrive in the Overworld."

"You are no match for Tartarus, Typhon or Echidna," Koios retorted. "They will pry these open and follow."

"They won't," Thanatos replied, with a certainty that even paused the aggressive titan. "There are no chains."

"The Doors are no longer in the Pit, are they?" Bob realised. "They moved."

"The Doors of Death do not belong in Tartarus," Hades said, straightening up fully. His form had fully coalesced again, although Apollo could tell it was still fragile, more a mask than a reflection of his true state. Apollo stood next to him, and was only somewhat startled when his uncle clasped his arm and his essence extended towards him, not mingling but the intent there.

Before this experience, Apollo would never have considered being able to mutually heal with his uncle, let alone actually doing it. If Hades was willing to do it in front of Thanatos – in front of the titans, although he suspected Koios had seen it already, if he'd been following them as long as he claimed – then Apollo wouldn't refuse.

Besides, they still had Koios to deal with. He was dangerous – not that Bob wasn't, but they had an accord with him and a mutual interest. With Koios, there was none of that, and that worried Apollo. Was Koios truly just looking to escape Tartarus, or did he have more intentions? Was his vision of being out with Apollo and Artemis truly enough for him to throw himself into the worst Tartarus had to offer?

Apollo feared it wasn't.

He clasped Hades' arm in turn, and let the light of Elysium, of the Isle of the Blessed and rebirth mingle with his own light of healing. Thanatos glanced back at them in surprise, but didn't comment.

"I was not expecting you, titan of the north," the god of death said instead, focusing his attention on Koios. "Iapetus – Bob? – I was aware would be there, but there was no mention of you."

Koios scoffed. "I would not be so sure about that," he said. "Tell me, grandson, what was the exact wording of that prophecy you've been attempting to subvert?"

Apollo bristled. "I have not been attempting to subvert it!" he insisted; the titan was wrong, he'd claimed it as his own, and with two – no, three, he realised, the golden ichor running across the floor of the Doors catching his attention – lines now coming to pass, he was confident that the Fates had accepted his and Hades' claim.

"Are you not supposed to be the god of truth?" Koios laughed. "But if you want to lie to yourself, that is of no concern to me – the prophecy, Phoebus."

"We are no longer in the Pit," Bob added. "You said you would reveal it once we were out."

Apollo sighed, but felt the words build in his throat regardless.

Sunshine and darkness go deeper than earth
Topaz and silver search for rebirth
Gold passes through the shadow of death
A fading light to take one final breath

"One more line to go," Koios observed, and Apollo disliked that he'd unravelled the meanings of the first three lines so easily, but Apollo's own prophetic domains had been inherited from the titan side of his lineage – not just his maternal grandmother but his grandfather as well. If there was anyone else in existence who could tell when prophetic lines had come to pass, it was his maternal titan ancestors.

"One more line to go," he agreed reluctantly, gesturing at the golden ichor they'd dragged through the Doors of Death when Hades and Thanatos looked at him in askance. No-one needed explanation for the first two. As for the single one still to go, it was, as the final lines of prophecies tended to be, the direst one.

Thanatos walked over to the closed doors and pushed them open. "We've arrived."

Koios was the first to barge past, almost knocking Thanatos aside in his determination to get out. The god of death looked at him disparagingly before fixing Apollo and Hades with a stare. "I could not stop him from entering, but did he have to be with you?" he asked in clear disapproval.

"It seems as though he did," Hades grumbled. Interestingly, Bob didn't protest at their complaints at his brother's escape; perhaps the titan realised how much of an issue Koios might be, loose in the Overworld.

Realising that they had to do something about him before the other gods – his father – realised that not one, but two titans had escaped Tartarus, Apollo reluctantly separated from Hades, putting a stop to their mutual healing as he followed his grandfather out into the Overworld.

They emerged in the large, dark hall of the Necromanteion, a temple Apollo hadn't spent much time in but recognised nonetheless, even if he hadn't already known that it was the location of the mortal, unmoving, side of the Doors of Death. They were underground, but compared to the depths of the Pit they'd just – miraculously – escaped from, it felt like he was on top of the world. Strength swelled as he ran after the titan, before remembering what being out of Tartarus meant and simply dematerialising, appearing outside the temple, under the fresh air and the sun as it passed to the west.

It felt like Sol was the one covering that shift, and Apollo spared a moment to watch it on its downwards arc – dusk was approaching, soon Artemis would take to the skies in her chariot for the night. Despite the lateness of the day, the warmth of the sun revitalised him further, and with a thought, a new bow materialised in his hand, his quiver filled to the brim with arrows.

Everything that Tartarus had tried to take from him was back, or near enough. He was still wearied, weakened from the ichor loss he hadn't fully replenished, but bathed in the rays of his own celestial domain, he felt stronger.

"Phoebus," Koios greeted. The titan had stopped just outside the temple, likewise looking up at the sky. "Join me." He gestured for Apollo to approach, seemingly unconcerned that he was fully armed again. Then again, he, too, was standing stronger, wounds closing with his hand draped over the hilt of his sword. "Your sister is coming."

Artemis was. Apollo could feel her clearly, the moon to his sun on a collision course.

He could also feel that she was not happy.

Koios gestured again, and warily Apollo stepped closer, staying out of immediate sword range. "It's a shame Leto and Phoebe aren't here," he commented, almost idly. "It would have been nice to have the whole family." He shrugged. "I will have to find them."

"What do you want, Koios?" Apollo asked, aware of Hades and Bob behind them, not intervening but present. Thanatos was nowhere to be felt, but Apollo had not expected him to stay.

Knowing his uncle was there, that if Koios attacked, he wouldn't be alone, was a strange yet comforting feeling.

"Freedom," the titan said, "much the same as you, grandson."

"I have freedom," Apollo dismissed, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head that pointed out he wanted to be able to do more than the Ancient Laws allowed.

Koios laughed, full of humour but also derision. "The freedom to be stripped mortal whenever you displease your father?" he challenged. "The freedom to cower behind as many masks as you can conjure rather than risk making the wrong enemy? You have a strange way of saying the truth, Phoebus."

Apollo was saved from finding an answer to the titan who knew far too much for his liking – titan of knowledge, he couldn't not remember, Koios was somehow worse than Athena – by a bolt of silver light exploding into existence in front of him.

Artemis had never been a fool, and a single glance around the scene had her pinning Apollo with a heavily disapproving look. "Phoebus Apollo, what have you done?"

Despite himself, Apollo couldn't help giving her a genuine smile. "It's good to see you, too, dear sister," he said. Almost automatically, he took a step closer to her, further from Koios.

"Granddaughter," the titan interrupted, and Artemis' silver eyes snapped from assessing Apollo – and no doubt racking up an entire list of grievances to air at him in the process – to instead inspect the ice-blue titan. "Artemis, yes?"

They had the same eyes, Apollo realised, seeing his twin and their grandfather regard each other, clearly assessing. Artemis' posture was rigid, the fact that she was in her favourite pre-pubescent form doing nothing to detract from the way she was as taut as a drawn bowstring.

"Koios," she said after a moment, no doubt but plenty of suspicion in her voice. "You should be in the Pit."

"And yet, here I am," Koios replied, spreading his arms and bestowing a smile upon them. It was a self-satisfied look, not a kind smile. "Thanks to Phoebus here."

"You forced your way out," Apollo corrected hurriedly, sensing his twin's increasing ire and feeling the need to set the story straight. "You were never the aim."

"But Iapetus was," Artemis said, looking far more terrifying than twelve year old girls had any right to – not even Meg could hold a candle to a four and a half millennia old goddess, even if they looked of an age. "Apollo. Are you trying to be punished again? Father is furious at your disappearance; once he realises exactly what you've done…" She trailed off, seemingly unable or unwilling to elaborate further. She didn't need to.

"There is a way to prevent punishment," Koios murmured, drawing both Apollo and Artemis' attention back to him. The fading light of the sun reflected off of his cold, cold eyes, calculating at best and a promise of cruelty at worst. The smile he gave them was too full of teeth, too full of malice for Apollo to trust it for even a moment.

Artemis's bow materialised in her hand, an open sign of her own mistrust. "And that is?" she demanded, with the air that she knew she wouldn't approve of whatever their grandfather had in mind.

"He can't punish Phoebus if he isn't in any position to do so," Koios said slowly. Behind him, Apollo felt Hades lurch forwards. "Or you, nephew." The titan had also noticed. "You asked what I wanted," he said, addressing Apollo directly. "What I want is that tyrant gone, for those upstart gods who mocked me to grovel at my feet, knowing that they will never rule again." He glanced sideways, where Hades had halved the gap between the two of them and was standing a little way away from Apollo. "You are different, Hades. Your brother rewarded you for your help by shutting you away, too, did he not? Then you protected my brother, when you could and should have handed him over, and finally came to rescue him. I have no interest in the Underworld; so long as you do not oppose me, I would be perfectly content to leave you alone in turn."

"You want to overthrow Olympus," Artemis said bluntly. "Did you learn nothing from your previous attempt?"

"From my youngest brother's attempt, you mean?" Koios corrected. "None of those plans were of my devising, but yes, I learned plenty. Your father has held that throne far too long; how can you call yourselves gods when you whimper and cower behind masks and shields, constantly in fear of your own father's retribution? Sometimes," he grinned, all sharp again, "fathers need to be disposed of. Isn't that right, brother, Hades?"

"No," Artemis said sharply, before either could respond. "Your father, and the Crooked One, but if you insist on extending that to my father, I will stop you here and now."

"Even if it's the only way to save Phoebus from his wrath?" Koios pressed.

"No," Apollo agreed. He remembered previous attempts to talk Zeus down, even overthrow him, and they had never worked – and Artemis was right, Koios had not just spoken about Zeus. All the gods that had opposed him, save Hades so long as Hades did not fight back – Olympus.

Apollo could never stand aside and let Olympus fall.

He glanced up at the darkening sky, disconcerted at the lack of thunder or lightning. Koios was forcing them to talk about treason – surely Zeus would have noticed by now? Once, Apollo might have thought Zeus was waiting to see what their response would be, but in recent centuries, even a hint had been enough for the lightning to come down. The silence was disconcerting.

"No?" Koios repeated. "Phoebus, do you want to be punished? If I was not clear, I am offering for you, children of my beloved daughter, to join with me. You would be honoured, finally in the position beings as fine as you should always have been. Even if you are too afraid to stand against your father, all you have to do is stand aside."

Instinctively, Apollo and Artemis stood closer together, close enough for the familiarity of his twin's essence to wash over and through his, and despite their differences, despite Artemis' disapproval at his various antics across the millennia, especially those their father had deemed rebellious, he could feel nothing but a thrum of agreement in this.

It was the same feeling they'd had when Tityos had tried to rape their mother, when Niobe had boasted of being a better mother than the titaness of motherhood herself. The moment of being fully in sync, two halves of one whole.

Koios could not be allowed to tear down Olympus.

As fast as thought, golden and silver arrows combined flew towards the titan, who growled as he ducked away, his massive sword coming up to act as a shield.

"Do not be foolish, Phoebus, Artemis!" he scolded. "The glory days of Olympus have passed; she will fall, and you will fall with her if you do not step away now."

There was Koios' certainty again, an absolute confidence in an unchangeable future, but this time, Apollo wasn't so convinced that he was right. He'd seen Olympus crumble, stones cascading down and the mountain turning to the same broken shell Mouth Othrys had been for his entire existence, yes, but he'd also seen her thriving, glorious days that spanned millennia more. Apollo had seen possibilities, different paths that the future could still take, and even now, faced with Koios' certainty, not all of those paths belonged to defeated potentials. Many, many still laid open, Olympus' fate far from sealed.

"No," he said, calm and measured. Certain in his own way. "One day, in the far future, the time of the Olympians will come to an end, but not now. Not from this."

"We are Olympians," Artemis added, as though she thought Koios needed reminding of that. "We are loyal to Olympus. If you insist on attacking, then you are our enemy. Sometimes, it is the grandfathers that must fall."

Rage flashed through icy blue eyes, but Apollo and Artemis were ready for Koios' attack and scattered, arrows flying in their wake. There was no delay between thought and materialisation now, no split second of weakness as Apollo was unguarded, unarmed.

"Iapetus!" the titan barked, stamping his foot and summoning a wave of ice that rushed to Apollo. He shimmered out of existence just before it struck, reappearing in mid-air with the setting sun at his back, and let loose another barrage.

Bob moved, stepping forwards, but his spear was still half-broken, and he seemed hesitant. "Brother-"

He was stopped by Hades, the god gripping his arm tightly. "Koios would see the demigods you promised to protect dead," Apollo heard his uncle say. "It is not just Olympus he wants to destroy." The underlying threat was there; if Bob stepped in, if Bob turned on them, then their alliance was moot and Hades, too, would join the fray.

"I am aware," Bob said, his voice hard. "I will keep my word, Hades. I had plenty of time to think in that cell; I know that you showed me mercy, the day Nico brought me to you. More than that, you protected me, for reasons I still cannot fathom. We were mortal enemies from the moment you were born, and yet when you had the chance to destroy me, millennia later, you did not. And if a god can do that, then so can a titan."

"You were always the most honourable," Hades replied.

"Iapetus!" Koios shouted again, dodging a hail of golden arrows and ending up in the path of the silver projectiles instead.

"My name is Bob, Koios," the titan called back, crossing his arms. "Why do you insist on doing this, brother? Our brothers are gone; the age of titans is passed. We should co-exist with the gods, not seek to destroy them."

Koios roared, and Apollo took advantage of his split-second distraction to plant an arrow in the small of his back, knocking him forwards half a pace. Artemis drove several arrows towards his front; off-balance, Koios didn't manage to block all of them, and received a silver shaft to his shoulder. "You've gone soft, Iapetus!" he snarled. "You were always the weak one but now you're just pathetic! Co-exist with the gods? Did your memories come back diluted of the atrocities they did to us? Was millennia in Tartarus not enough to teach you that the gods will never be our allies? The time of the gods has run its course; it is time for the titans to return."

"Kindness is not softness!" Bob replied. "How is it that for everything you see, brother, you have never seen that? I will be kind, now, as Hades, Phoebus and the demigods have shown me is possible, but I will not be soft. Stop this madness, brother, and I will stand by you, but not until then."

Koios let out a howl of betrayal.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari