WARNING: Violence, blood, death, agony.
Pallas Athena
The Temple of Poseidon had been inundated in excruciating golden light. Those present in the courtyard were caught in torrents of water warmer than Atlantis' tepid air, requiring Cosmos as to not be dragged away. Even the god, powerful as he was, stopped in his tracks, though he did not dare shield the eyes; the one present in the glow was the enemy he long avoided to combat.
Passing several seconds, the water had washed yard and rubble alike, yet the light pended to falter from behind the debris. Within they felt the otherwise comforting Cosmos so familiar, though in such situation it raged as to estrange them; from the perspective of the Saints, somehow there was hint of a violence more twisted than Poseidon's. An outline was faintly visible after a good while, close to ground, protecting what was likely to be the fallen Kiki.
Together with him, Athena was surrounded by a cloudy sphere of energy, and they could see that the box the boy carried had been autonomously split open. As they became more visible, they saw that she crouched and raised a tall shield in front of the unconscious body, halting any further aggression her uncle posed against him. The sphere dissipated, and the light was no longer overwhelming. The goddess slowly rose to reveal her full figure, covered in a beauteous Cloth the likes of which the Saints had never seen.
An intricate aegis protected her chest and upper back, surrounding a tall bevor; its well-sculpted base was of the metal dominating the remainder of the armor, an iridium alloy, silvery at first sight, yet reflecting a yellowish light. Details in platinum sprawled from its form, composing snakes which crowned the head of a grotesque gorgon, no dissimilar from Perseus' shield. From beneath this path a cuirass continued along Athena's body, finely detailed and fluted, till it reached layers of faulds to cover the hips and rear. From there one could've found her beauteous greaves and boots, however, those were covered by the long skirt of a himation that originated from beneath the armor, bearing curvaceous marks in gold foil.
The round, large shoulder pads had similar signs in its corners, and their shape elongated into smooth, feather-like ends, whence came the protections for the arm, such as the intricate gauntlets and blooming vambraces. The depictions on the plates were the most detailed and numerous of any other Cloth; the cuirass behind the aegis had drawings of a great god offering his head to another, who handled a double-headed axe, seemingly readied to tear his cranium asunder. A shoulder depicted a maiden bringing to life an olive tree, and in another the same maiden with a spear in hand, standing guard by a column. On her back were battles and wars abound, in one of which the maiden alone struck a great warrior, who brandished the end of a tree branch as a weapon; here the woman also brandished a round shield with a gorgoneion.
Although it was not that shield which Athena now carried, it was a wondrous shield no less, tall and specular. So many people were shown in its center that the thing was a piece of art its own; it had soldiers in bloody struggle with women mounted on horses, variably attacking or injured. Her spear was a menacing sight, its tip slender and triangular, and the handle was also ribbed with artistic depressions. Such weapon she raised in a reverse hold, over and from behind the shield which she used to hide the bottom half of her face.
The helmet protected the sides as well as it did the top and back, yet her hair still flowed freely from underneath it. In the central crest a sphinx led the view of horse-hair extended all the way to the back; two other crests parallel to it were of Pegasus, and from the center fell a drop-like nose guard, as elegant as the remainder of her protection.
Even Poseidon, who had last seen the goddess this adorned two centuries prior, was in awe of her appearance. Her radiance in war was, it seemed, a gift to her worst of enemies as it was to her dearest allies. Face reflected by the sharp tip of the lance, he expected naught but death, the same he had been handed for every battle since the First Holy War.
"Lady Athena…" the god reticently welcomed her, a furor in his tone betraying the sarcasm he offered such title. She did not respond with words, for her stance stayed war-like, shield and weapon forth like prior. Of course, in succession, the man dragged a boot back and prepared to hunt back for his trident.
Outspeeding all the Saints that persecuted him, Poseidon was halted by his niece, who pushed counter to him, shield to body. His armor glanced aside, being missed by the spear, but there was no method to so simply push through for the fallen Kiki. Instead, he had to focus on the youths who attacked him.
On their own, the Saints posed little to no danger to him, yet now, joined by the goddess, they could finally tip him towards a certain demise. Soon he gave up on retrieving the weapon and instead focused on survival, evading and blocking what he found himself allowed to do so.
No matter, Athena was relentless now that he had been pushed afar from the fallen boy. She swept through the courtyard, ruining what was left of the statues and columns in order to chase the enemy. Poseidon did his utmost to escape, occasionally leaping betwixt the offenses of Seiya and the others, or nullifying the winds summoned by Shun.
Passing near the entrance back to the wrecked temple, he was near caught when Athena crashed into a set of walls behind him. Her shield streaked along the man's shoulder pad, and she blew the stone to pieces as she passed like a sparkling comet. The force was enough to launch him off, so he landed farther, down to a crouch.
Though this seemed like a great opportunity, the goddess diverted her path and flew back out, landing many meters from the foe. "Be careful!" she warned her Saints, who dutifully stopped and landed to listen. "Do not get involved unless absolutely needed." To Pegasus, who stood some steps of distance, this was a palpable safety. He knew well how things could go awry, the way they did back in Athens.
His attention thus turned to what was within their realm of possibility; he realized Kiki yet lied unconscious at the Mainstay's remains. "We need to get Kiki!" he yelled.
In that instant Poseidon attacked, but Athena was forthwith, coming counter to his force and pushing him in full. The spear arm peeked from behind the shield, thrust with a growl of hers, which forced the man to skip aside and bump shoulder-first into her defense.
As there was no end in sight to the goddess' auspices, he flew back as if taken by a storm, and from there conjured winds to hunt after the Saints, who had mobilized to rescue Aries' apprentice. Shun, who stayed watch, responded with a gargantuan wash, shouting: "NEBULA STORM!"
While his allies went behind this wall of plasma, Poseidon's ice twirled along its shape, and there was only so much a warrior could do in face of godhood. No matter how much he concentrated, eventually ice exploded past the Nebula Storm; thankfully for them, Athena had already chased down her uncle, and he was forced back into the desolate temple.
June was the first to land beside Kiki. She studied his state and saw how lodged the trident was. "He's out cold," she told Shaina and Seiya, who came closer next.
"We should pull it out before he is awake," Ophiuchus suggested.
Seiya frowned and asked: "Huh? Are you sure?"
"Just do it. I will find a way to stop the bleeding."
The sound of Poseidon's crashing frost echoed terrifyingly close, so June stepped with a foot lightly against the back of Kiki's lower leg, then pulled on the weapon with both hands, which worsened the bleeding.
Tiny fragments of ice flew that far; Shun and Hyoga, who were decently ahead, attempted to block incoming pushes, though they were all forced back as the gods passed nearby. Light and cold were left in their wake, and some of the leftover statues crumbled, for the ground quaked under their power.
June instinctively took Kiki, never minding the blood he lost, and started carrying him towards what appeared to be a safer place. "Get him as far from here as you can," Shaina ordered next, to which Chameleon obliged.
The girl had difficulties to leave, whereas the others turned to watch over Athena's battle. Poseidon had been pushed back once more, by a midair strike that sent him to the ruined pieces of the hall. He skidded momentarily ere spiraling to a stand, and saw his niece land over the stump of a fallen column.
Thus the last pillar, that of the North Atlantic, finally came to a fall. Preceding this was Sorrento's swelling song, a sign that he was the one responsible for its downing; said realization brought a smile to Athena's face.
She raised the shield, lifting with it a faint glow; Poseidon rather raised a hand, both protecting their perimeters with the aid of Cosmos, provided that the fall inevitably caused the same turbulence of previous times.
"You have come around," Athena whispered of the Mariner. As the dust had found its place in the air, she called out: "Uncle, your defeat is, as ever, assured. It is vain to fight."
Poseidon offered something between an enraged snarl and a pained grin. "While I walk, humanity may still meet their end!" he argued.
Knowing conversation to be a worthless endeavor, the goddess preemptively attacked. Indeed, if he lived and she were nowhere to halt him, humanity was under threat, as were her Saints. From there, with the speed and harshness she used to fight, Poseidon was enraptured in frustration that grew to fury; he saw his ambitions crumble around him as Sanctuary's forces rushed the fallen temples in the distance. Athena's ability seemed insurmountable, and his death, certain.
Noticing Seiya and the others encroach to support their goddess, he released a tremendous blast of frost, one large enough to cover close rubble and beyond. Shards that met the heights degraded into fine particles, falling like snow; the remainder, however, struck things and beings as would shrapnel.
Of course, Athena had little issue fending for herself against such a tantrum, yet the Saints had different circumstances. The weakened Hyoga, despite efforts, was struck by the glass-like pieces. The faraway June was also struck in the back, though she was able to stop them from reaching Kiki. Shaina and Seiya were struck a bit less, with speed and power. Shun was the only one shallowly injured, for his winds nigh depleted the blast's force.
With a mighty crash, the goddess hit Poseidon's Scale with the spear, straight to the inner shoulder. The similar toughness of the materials resulted in metal separating from the armor. Nonetheless, the man's skin wasn't properly split, and he merely fell spinning to the ruins.
Athena dropped on the opposite side. In that position, she saw her uncle's reddened stare, the hatred deep within. His aura expanded angrily as he shouted: "May terror swallow this place! If Atlantis turns to dust, it will be worth the cost to defeat you!"
The two screamed in preparation for the next clash, and once more they did, meeting one another halfway through. For the Saints there was little they felt they could do without risking themselves needlessly; they watched in expectation of an occasion to strike, yet with Poseidon engaging his abilities unfettered, they could barely process what took place above them.
A blazing trail arose from the North Atlantic's direction. It was Ikki who now joined, courageous and ignorant enough to meet the path of the gods. He was bumped off viciously, although not by the Lord of Atlantis, rather his own goddess. Athena sacrificed valuable instants to keep him away, and the manner which her shield pushed him was so strong, the Phoenix Cloth regained cracks.
He fell straight down through little of the temple that stood. His friends took note and would've aided him, had it not been for Poseidon chasing him without fail. Shun shouted and manipulated the winds, to no avail. It was Athena's intervention which ultimately saved the man.
Where uncle went, so went niece, and she overtook him twofold; despite the trouble, she deviated his route and undid her defenses, arms spread so that an armored leg could be unveiled from under the fabric. A kick struck him in the hip, summed to his momentum. Poseidon was once more frustrated, though not without reaction, for he ran a handful of steps, leapt to the courtyard another time, and abandoned a wave of snow behind.
The Saints repositioned, avoiding his proximity in order to seek Athena and Ikki's. The woman quickly pushed some marble with a boot, and saw Phoenix's body twitch with life from beneath rubble, so she turned and focused back on the enemy.
"Was that Ikki?" Shun called as he approached. June, too, had rejoined the group, having found a reasonably safe space to hide Kiki.
It was warriors like her and Hyoga whom Athena eyed with worry, saying: "No more can you do in my aid. Care for one another, leave my uncle to me!"
"You really expect us to leave you?" June said, yet the goddess did not entertain her — once her voice came out, she turned her eyes forth, and once Poseidon's Cosmos grew, she skipped hundreds of meters to the yard.
A frustrated Shaina also grunted. "What is the matter with her?" she asked.
Seiya spoke up while Shun silently obeyed, checking on his older brother: "She's right, we've got no business getting involved now. Let's stay out of the way."
"If there is anyone who has business getting involved, Seiya, it is us! We are Saints!"
"This isn't me being an idiot now!" he countered. Hyoga rested his fatigued body against a fallen wall, while Shun whispered questions to a thus sitting Ikki, the likes of where he had been the entire time. The others observed this, seeing that, as powerful as they had become, their limits were no less tangible. "We've done more than enough. I don't see Shiryu here, I wonder if…" the youth pouted in fury, trying to nod off any worries over his friend's fate "… Athena… Athena is out of that Mainstay. The pillars are all down. I know for sure that the only support we can give is looking after ourselves."
June's foiled expression was uncharacteristically exposed, despite her turning it away; no less, Shaina's emotions were obvious despite the mask. The latter tensioned the clawed fingers, then turned to watch the gods up ahead.
Athena had made her way up the defiled stairs; the walls holding the arcs to the yard yet stood, albeit by little, hanging onto threads of cracked pillars. As she exited, the crowds that crossed the barricades afar resounded louder, a sign of the impending doom of Atlantis. The scarce runaway had begun to pass between the temples nearby, and eventually Sanctuary's troops would find their way to that one in particular.
Up the Mainstay's corpse, she met the sight of Poseidon retrieving the fallen trident. He took it in silence, though his raging Cosmos exhaled the same fury of beforehand. Neither time nor reason seemed to ease his reaction to failed ambitions.
The man turned, fiery eyes to the readied niece, and raised the weapon frontward; he had long realized his fate, though now he confronted it like the most immediate of hauntings. As with every generation prior, he would meet painful death, though he was as ever brave to accept its cold suffering.
His aura became dense, announcing an eagerness to strike. To that Athena stopped in her tracks, slightly lowered the knees, and raised the shield. With a large release of energy, she pushed the enemy as soon as he strode in her path, holding the trident's teeth in the shield's edge. She rotated that arm and poked his chest with the spear, though Poseidon leapt back and then up, clearly aiming to pass over her.
Athena would not allow this. She slammed him by quickly bouncing into his lower body, hitting him in the legs; Poseidon only spiraled once ere releasing a sudden, intense wind that stabilized him, though the goddess did not relent. She launched him with another slam, this one coming quickly from the side, and he tripped over marble.
Once again he tried to evade her, to go back to the temple. He no longer wished to endanger Saints as to induce an error — no, he wished to kill them for the sake of it, to leave them as damaged as they had left Atlantis, as bitter as failure had left his soul. This attitude was no stranger to Athena, who, like before, stopped him in his tracks.
Poseidon's attempts were unending. Insanity took him; now only the lives of those weaker than him could sate his dying wish. It was clear then, the woman was no longer a foe, but an unwilling headswoman. The responsibility of executing him fell solely in her hands.
"He has given up," she whispered and swung the spear at him; he was missed, though their bodies collided, forcing him to a roll. Before he skipped off, she served as an obstacle to the temple, and sent him further back to the Mainstay's rubble. That's where he belonged, she thought. "But there he shan't stay. For their sake, he must die."
As soon as Poseidon recomposed, he jumped for the Saints, though Athena was more brutal in her answer. The way which she struck him was forceful, and the trident got caught between the two, pushed sideways. He skipped up to avoid her, but she bounced nigh in tandem, striking head with shield. The dazed man would not yield, so he spawned winds and tried again, in vain; Athena went shoulder first, spinning with him.
Their velocity accelerated with each instance of defiance. Soon they were two stars, and the dark depths of Atlantis' heights were illuminated by their Cosmoi. That was the penultimate spectacle anyone would witness before the war's conclusion, their spark and afterglow brightening what was oft pitch-black, exposing the mystery at the top of the buried continent.
Both had gone so far up that combatants below were mere details. To Poseidon, this was no matter; to Athena, this was her golden chance. Finally she divided their bodies with a spinning kick, and when the god saw her stance and the glow she emitted, he understood what was to come. Her olive eyes peeked from behind the raised shield, as did the spear, like the menacing stinger of a scorpion, waiting for a most precise instant.
Athena's aura burned greater than ever before, and finally the bottom of marine trenches could be seen above, oceans floating over Atlantis in manners not to be explained. The city and the battlefield seemed to fall silent for half a second, so only the echoes of crying whales were heard, all before the goddess' voice boomed like a choir.
From the midst of elliptic galaxies painted in nothingness itself, she ordained reality to do her bidding. The stiffest of the universe's limits bent under the power she wielded, so no barrier ungodly could withstand the event to come. Mortals looked on at an unfolding too primordial; it felt as if flesh were forbidden to witness it, as if Man were alive to watch the Big Bang. Her voice was thousandfold, and her words were law.
"ATHENA EXCLAMATION!"
A splash of epic proportions spread from her position, built of what looked like pure light. Soon Poseidon had been taken by it entirely, and he floated in its terrifying power, one which broke time as much as it did space. This filled like an arc ahead, at first glance infinite, though much farther than any could see, it blurred to a halt. Despite how far up they were, the land below shook, and the light was so harsh that most were left temporarily blind.
Seiya, Shun, June, Hyoga, and Shaina did not know whether to experience awe or fear of what befell the enemy above. Even Ikki, who expected no less, trembled at the feeling. The Gold Saints in battle, Aldebaran and Mu, looked away as if knowing what would ensue. Still they stopped their assaults, for it was the sort of happening only ancient books dared describe.
Aphrodite, too, looked away from his position by the temple of portals. He instructed other warriors to act in kind, lest their sight be stricken, yet some could not turn away from Athena's monstrous force. A rumbling arrived, low and grotesque, and then a heavenly harmony of disembodied chants, so loud that those closest had to cover their ears.
With no choice but to admit his fate, Poseidon no longer exerted himself. His Scale oozed white plasma, which joined the shade of the space surrounding him. Suspended, he stared at Athena's fighting stance, and she, with a single advance, joined the light and pierced him straight through the chest, since the armor's material had been weakened in the ordeal.
As the light finally waned, the two entered free fall. Athena forced the spear deeper and deeper, as much as she could with the shield in the other hand; when she raised the eyes to see her uncle's face, his expression was flat, deadpan — instantly she realized the one within was not only him, yet also her beloved.
"Such cruelty…" she murmured, and then lamented "… damned be fate. Damned be ambition, tradition, damn it all!" In a rare bout of rage, she once more blew up with beauteous Cosmos, speeding all the way down to crash like a meteor. A crater opened about them, and once more the ground shuddered.
The dust started to settle; from behind its veils she could see his pained eyes. With a swing of the arm, Athena let go of the shield and took the spear in both hands, holding it firmly lodged into the God Scale. In the vicinity, much of the Mainstay's remains and the courtyard was reduced to dust, so it had been best that the Saints stayed far.
That goddess was found once more in the same position of many a past life, spear to her uncle's chest, standing over him in victory. However, the woman saw herself there for the first time — Saori was reminded of the instant she first learned of her true self, and of what she would be cursed to do. In every past life, it was this soul whom she reaped and imprisoned, yet at the same time, it was not.
"Somehow, this is unlike any other time I have slain you," she said, then so soon shook the head in negation. "No, no, I have never slain you. Not once have I slain you…" Her eyes escaped the refuge of the spear's handle to meet Poseidon's face, though his demeanor was no more. The other had reawakened, the true owner of that vessel. "… Julian!"
"S-Saori, my love…" his words were cut by blood that flooded the lungs. Despite his request having been tirelessly refused before, somehow the woman could not bring herself to interrupt what he uttered. "Will you… will you marry me?"
Saori looked away. "You have my heart, Julian."
"And you… you have mine," he spoke with a wet cough, blood splattering from the corner of the mouth. "So would you...?"
For a while she did not speak. Rather she pressed a boot against the ground, readying to stand, and from her shadowed face a pair of tears wettened Julian's lip. Saori admitted — Athena admitted: "I love you."
The spear was violently pulled back from his punctured torso, inflicting pang great enough that the dying man screamed. To cut such suffering short and unchain the souls, Athena twirled the weapon the opposite direction, its tip deeply slicing his throat. As she did this, she refused to watch life leave that body.
But no matter how much she resisted, her worries called, and since no pressing matters remained, the knees of a goddess surrendered, and the lance was let go. She fell beside him, lifted him by the back, and pulled him to her lap, weeping hopeless. Blood dripped from the neck, washing the Scale and the Cloth's fabric. This did not matter; she was occupied covering Julian's eyes with a hand, because he agonized his last seconds alive.
Time went on and the choking fell mute. The body became limp, heavy, and restful in Athena's embrace, but her sacred sobbing could be heard by those around the courtyard. Saints meekly approached, Shun up ahead, feeling the most confident to bother her.
However, upon confirming Poseidon's defeat, and upon finding her in mourning, even he doubted his softness to be proper. "My Lady," he quietly called after walking into the crater. "Is there anything you need?"
The goddess wiped her tears, and she did not look back at them, focusing solely on Julian. "My uncle's soul gradually loses grip of this flesh. We must seal him at once," she explained, voice muffled.
"Yes! What must we do?"
"Bring me a container. Anything with a lid will do."
"Got it!" Shun turned to the others as he said that. He and his brother were sprung to action, but the rest stayed to watch over her.
When Athena finally looked at them, she noticed those yet missing. "How about Shiryu and Kiki?"
June widened the eyes when she heard that. "Oh, yeah, I left Kiki outside," she recalled.
"We should check how he is doing before anything happens," Shaina said. "Show me where you left him."
Chameleon nodded and the two left in somewhat of a hurry, leaving Seiya and Hyoga behind. The goddess seemed inquisitive still, and reinforced: "What of Shiryu?"
Seiya stared down and nodded left and right, so she sighed. "We don't know. He took down the Indian Pillar, and that was it. No more signs of him," he replied.
"He has to survive," she said. "Let us seek him once we are finished here."
Not much later, Phoenix and Andromeda returned with a bronze hydria; despite having been well-maintained, Poseidon's priests were purists regarding its care, so it had an even coating of patina throughout the engravings. Like a crest, the form of a metal siren enclosed the container's lip with wings, guarding the lid that would shut it.
Athena took grasp of the object and rested it on her lap, then reaching with the other hand for the corpse's forehead. Her Cosmos buzzed cautiously, and the tip of the fingers touched the skin with reddened sparks. Fumbling meticulously for several seconds, she pulled the hand back to manipulate some plasmatic substance, and the further it exited flesh, the more hysterical the thing became. It was the soul of a fellow god which she so neatly took.
What deathly touch the Saints saw, akin to the fine tact of a mortician. Initially the sight and sound of Poseidon's spirit was a sorry one, hinting that haply after life, even the gods stooped to the level of a mere mortal. Eventually this came to be questioned; his soul was blood-red and noisy, his anguish in life echoing at its end. Somehow, bodiless, he attempted to elude his niece's control, yet her diligence entrapped him.
Infuriated syllables boomed in languages they could not comprehend. That fast, Athena brought the shade to its temporary resting place, in the hydria like an urn, and the substance drooped inside like dense fluid. She isolated it with the lid and used the same cursed, red energy to imprison him.
With a minute spark of the left hand, the goddess purposefully cut long strands of her own hair, which she thus used to tie the covering down by the handles. She bled the tip of a finger similarly, and wrote an Alpha atop it with the same Cosmos, and thereon one would find no means of escape for Poseidon.
"Let us safeguard this to the Cult. There we shall properly seal it," she told, getting up and holding the vessel.
This had come at the ideal moment, right when the clamor of troops finally reached the temple. The Saints helped each other, with Shun nearly carrying Hyoga on their way to a summit. June returned with Shaina, the first carrying an unconscious Kiki in her arms; the boy's wounded leg had been tied with a strip of fabric, and his bleeding, somehow cauterized.
Seiya took the trident from Julian's corpse and brought it with him, such that, when the group had reached a high point from the sides, he could raise it above the advancing soldiers. Men and women met the sight of their armored goddess, shield in an arm and hydria in the other; they also saw the enemy's weapon in Pegasus' possession, the truest sign of triumph.
"Poseidon is defeated!" cheers intensified. Flags were flown like before the battle, waved with hands alone, or pierced to the ends of lances. A pike in particular had been raised the highest, and it displayed the flag of the rebellion; its red now symbolized the blood of friend and foe who died in Sanctuary's hunt for justice.
Athena took off the helmet and stared at those right below. Staying a step behind Seiya, she briefly hid her saddened eyes, tears glistening on her cheeks. In victory, she yet found loss; in that red flag, she sensed only the freezing truth of death.
The chants reverberated across that alien land of the Atlanteans, up the steep hills all the way to the city. Squadrons which once escaped the Bronze Saint's assault yet absconded in distant mounds, despite recent happenings making them entertain their god's defeat. Blind hope for a Pyrrhic victory could so simply be undone by their very eyes, as the absent sight of pillars betrayed them.
Afraid, they stayed back, and life in the towns had essentially returned to normalcy, no matter the citizen's limited contact with Earth while the Saints occupied the way out. Under Aphrodite's watch, troops did not mistreat the inhabitants, rather electing to watch their day from a respectful distance.
The Gold Saint himself spent most of the time observing fighting troops, alternated between his watch over the corridor that would take one back to Earth. Reda was tasked with using the Cassiopeia Chain to block off the way in and out, also leading a group of chained amazons who scouted the area.
Nonetheless, matters had gotten so peaceful in that front that Aphrodite, Reda, and their allies resorted to sitting by the exit. They exchanged pleasantries, laughter, and the occasional comment on the situation up ahead. Soon a report came from one of the amazons in observation duty, which required their higher-up's action: "Troops are approaching the exit!"
Aphrodite hummed and got up from where he sat, which others soon mirrored. He appeared to dislodge something from beneath his luscious hair, soon revealed to be a black rose. "Retreat to a defensive position, behind those with the chains," he ordered the troops, and said message was relayed by sergeants. "Except you, Mister Reda. Come with me and keep your Cosmos at the ready."
Reda nodded and followed him. A large perimeter was opened in front of the tunnel, with Andromedan amazons forming both a human and chain blockade in front of the others, as if to divide them from potential enemies. Cassiopeia and Pisces calmly went to the mess of metal trapping the exit, then looked past the shadows to try and make out their visitors.
Many reflections of polished, silvery metal surfaces came hither. From the gaps they noted a large group of armored warriors, their vast majority feminine; by virtue of their masklessness, they knew them not to come from Sanctuary. They were in a large group of about fifty, adorned in a mix of heavy plates and heavy clothing, much white fabric dangling from the waists and forearms.
Duly armed, each and every one of them had a bow their own, each and every one also carrying arrows, either on their backs or hips. Because Aphrodite recognized them by the manner they portrayed themselves, he signaled for Reda to pull the blockage off, and the young man did so without question.
The Cassiopeia Chain had been wrapped around the tunnel for hundreds of meters, though it was a relatively quick and smooth process to undo these folds. With each greater gap opened in the process, more of the visitors was revealed, in particular a woman who stood next to the exit.
From inside, they watched Reda's Cosmos reel back the weapon, commenting with marvel at how interesting were its workings. "You are a Saint, are you not?" the upfront girl asked the other man.
Aphrodite confirmed with a nod, then asked back: "I am Pisces Aphrodite. How may I be of service, miss?"
"We are the Satellites of Lady Artemis, here under Lord Zeus' request. We and the Angels have come to join Sanctuary in your fight against Poseidon."
That much the Saint already deduced. With the chaining nigh undone, he stepped back and to the side; the Satellites began to leave darkness out to light, meeting the eyes of soldiers and amazons.
Aphrodite aimed his rose to the distance. "See it with your own eyes, Satellite," he invited her. The women turned to see that none of Poseidon's banners flew high, and worse, the Oceanic Pillars grazed the heights no longer. "It was long confirmed to us that we were victorious."
"They have all been taken down already!" one of Artemis' women gasped.
"Not meaning to caress our egos… it was quicker than I imagined," Pisces noted.
While they talked, further movement came from behind that group. More Satellites continued to come out, in addition to better equipped fighters. A strange glow came from within, a thing Sanctuary's folk did not eye with cynicism, more curiosity. Word was sent back and forth, so the more forward girl continued to talk.
"And Lady Athena?" she questioned.
"We are at ease. Reports are that she downed her uncle herself," the Saint responded.
A commotion took the Satellites. "As ever," one commented. "Our Lady foretold this."
That unexplained glow, yellowish in hue, came closer to the light. In its company was a retinue of nine fearsome women; their armor was heavier, all-encompassing, no different from a Gold Saint. Emblems on their helmets each represented a phase of the moon, and although the metals were of a similar tinge to that of their peers, one of them wore an exceptional one in that case, stained red like the Cancer Cloth.
These were all Satellites of some kind too, since they also had bows, but they were followed by the four Angels, Icarus, Atalanta, Odysseus, and the latter's partner. It was the person behind these who inspired a strong reaction from Aphrodite, that being the source of the strange glimmer.
A stunning huntress led the Satellites and Angels from the rear. She was somewhat tall for a woman, and her platinum hair appeared to emit a faint glow; the locks were enviably long, perhaps more than Athena's, and oft ended in stark curls. Her light skin reflected the hair's impossible shine, making it seem brighter than it truly was, as did her hazel eyes. Her stare, large and elongated, reminded the Saints of a coyote, and thus her irises were striking within its bounds.
She was dressed in gracious heavy armor, metal light and reflective. The motifs were tree-like; vines and branches were raised to detail the material, entwining the trims. The bevor itself was shaped after the roots of a plant, and it appeared to tie her neck as would a noose. It was impossible to see many of the depictions sure present on her protection, since she wore an intricate himation that covered the bust, beyond to her hips and shins. It was beautifully, vertically layered, and the images of warrior-maidens and huntresses peeked from beneath.
Her shoulder pads, flowing downwards along her outline, had been etched each with a lioness. The helmet she wore had a band across the forehead, shaped after a crown of leaves, which then extended into a crest of three arches, little left to protect her captivating features. Her nose had a bridge somewhat tall, downturned by the tip; her lips were narrow, but full and bare.
Like her subordinates, she had a bow, though hers was almost too garnished. Even its string was metallic, yet the quiver behind her had golden arrows equally embellished.
"Ah, a Gold Saint!" she spoke at Aphrodite's sight, voice stronger than Athena's calming one, albeit with a tone inoffensive. She softly tapped Atalanta on the shoulder and whispered to her; accompanied by that girl and the heavily armored squad, she made her way to him.
Pisces was taken aback, so he fell to a knee and bowed, hiding face and rose under the hair. Reda did the same, and far behind, the others also lowered their sights. "Lady Artemis, I did not expect your coming!" he told.
The Satellites and Angels avoided looking at those who showed respects, whereas Artemis directly addressed their leader. "Pisces, are you not? I pray you know where my sister would be found."
"B-by all means, you may pass through with your women! Surely our Lady crosses the battlefield at this very instant on her way home," he said, and as the goddess stepped back, he finally lifted the face to look at her.
"Or she must be busy tending for the dead and wounded," she pondered.
"Of course, she is quite preoccupied!" said Aphrodite. "But she would never find it a bother to see you, Lady Artemis."
Artemis leaned in closer to Atalanta, and the Saints overhead her say: "Deliver the news to my father at once." The Angel nodded and led the others, while Artemis lifted a hand to catch the huntresses' attention. "Walk, Satellites! We are to meet Lady Athena up ahead!"
Icarus and his peers ventured back into the tunnel, and the armored women turned to march up the hill towards Athena. The Saints stood and watched their disciplined goings, admiring their goddess the most, whose semblance alone was like the Moon made flesh. They wished that, whichever words were traded between the sisters, only peace would come; war they had had enough of.