Zeus' thunderous voice echoed throughout the throne room, his eyes scanning the crowd of demigods and gods assembled before him. The Olympians had reigned supreme for centuries, but after the defeat of the giants, their empire was growing too fast. The demigods, offspring of the gods and mortals, had multiplied in number, crowding Olympus and causing unrest.
Zeus' eyes narrowed. "Demigods!" His voice boomed. "I have an announcement."
The demigods tensed. Some had their suspicions; others were utterly unaware of the storm about to descend.
"In three hours," Zeus continued, his tone cold and indifferent, "all murder will be legal among yourselves. There are too many of you, and we need to cull the herd, so to speak."
The air grew still. Confusion, fear, and disbelief swept through the crowd like a tidal wave. The demigods looked to one another, unsure if this was some cruel test or a twisted joke. Even the gods remained silent, their expressions unreadable.
"But—" one brave voice began to protest.
"There will be no discussion." Zeus cut him off sharply, his gaze burning with finality. "Olympus is not a sanctuary for the weak. Survival belongs to the strongest, as it always has. You will fight, or you will die."
A murmur of unease spread through the hall. Some demigods stepped back, their eyes wide with panic. Others clenched their fists, a flicker of determination igniting in their eyes. They had been raised as warriors, many of them, and the thought of battle stirred something primal within them.
Hermes, standing off to the side, exchanged a glance with his fellow gods. Behind his usual lighthearted demeanor, a shadow of worry flickered in his eyes. He knew this would be chaos, bloodshed like Olympus had never seen before.
But for the demigods, it was clear: in three hours, all hell would break loose.
The air was full of suffocating tension. All the gods had seemed to sense the severity of Zeus' decree, although none dare to openly challenge it or him. Nico's dark eyes flickered with unease, Thalia's fist now clenched as sparks of lightning crackled along her fingers. Reyna, as calm as ever on the surface at least, she let her gaze linger on the mass crowd of demigods, calculating.
"This is madness," Nico muttered, his voice low but sharp.
"Madness or not, it's happening," Reyna replied, her expression hardening. "We need to prepare. In three hours, the strongest will turn on the weak, and once the bloodlust starts, no one will care who was on their side before."
Thalia nodded, her storm-gray eyes narrowing. "And you can bet we're at the top of everyone's hit list."
The nine of them had stood together through two wars and countless battles, and their names had become legend. For the demigods assembled in Olympus, taking down one of the "big nine" would be seen as an act of supreme strength, a symbol of dominance in this sudden, deadly competition. Fame and glory could be won—at a bloody cost.
"We can't just kill them, though," Nico said, almost as if talking to himself. "They're our people."
"Not after that announcement," Reyna cut in, her tone sharp but understanding. "Zeus just turned them all into hunters, and we're the biggest prey."
Hermes, overhearing the conversation from a distance, approached cautiously. "If you're planning anything clever, you might want to hurry," he said softly. "Three hours isn't much time to strategize. And after that... Well, let's just say I don't plan on sticking around for the fireworks."
His words confirmed what Reyna already feared. The gods weren't going to intervene. This would be a slaughter, a thinning of the demigod ranks. And in Olympus, survival wasn't just about strength—it was about cunning, alliances, and knowing when to strike.
Thalia crossed her arms. "So, what's the plan?"
Reyna's eyes flickered to the rest of the group. "We find a place to bunker down, somewhere defensible. We'll need to avoid the others at first—let them fight among themselves. We're not looking to win glory; we're looking to survive."
Nico let out a slow breath. "I can create a shadow path, move us somewhere hidden."
"Good," Reyna said, nodding. "We'll need to stay out of sight as long as we can. But we'll also need eyes on the ground. We have to know who's coming for us."
Thalia glanced at the crowd, where some demigods were already murmuring among themselves, their gazes occasionally darting toward the nine. "They're already plotting."
"Let them," Reyna said coolly. "We'll be ready."
As the minutes ticked down, each of the nine felt the weight of the impending battle. This wasn't just a fight for glory. It was a fight for survival—one that would test not just their strength, but their loyalty and their resolve.
Three hours felt like an eternity, yet far too short for what was to come.
The nine demigods were hunkered down in Poseidon's Olympus palace as he had fled back to Atlantis not wanting to watch the event about to happen.
Percy coughed, "We will have to go fight at one point, but for now barricade the doors while we think of a plan."
Everyone seemed to approve of the plan and did so.
