PROLOGUE

"Ancient power stirs, deep within the Earth's core. The gods convene, fate of humanity hanging in the balance. For if left unchecked, this force will unleash a cataclysm, engulfing the world in flames, and forever altering the course of existence."

SANCTUM OF THE GODS

Within the Hearth Chamber, the common room of the Sanctum, eight figures shrouded in shadows gathered around the fire. As the flames danced, a deep voice resonated, "Hestia's tardiness is uncharacteristic." A response followed, "Patience, brother. Surely, something has detained her."

The room fell silent, until a feminine voice, tinged with amusement, spoke up, "I'm surprised, Poseidon. Apart from the obvious rift between you and Zeus, you're not one to be so casually invested in mortal affairs."

"Hm, right you are, Athena," Poseidon replied. "I'm not concerned with the fates of these mortals and mundanes. But something is coming – I can feel it in my bones. It's something that will affect both gods and men alike. So, I can no longer sit on the sidelines."

"Be that as it may, brothers and sisters," Ares interjected, "even as we entrust Hestia with these Energems, we all know the importance of choosing the right candidates. If these powers fall into the wrong hands, all will be lost before we even have a chance at resistance."

"Wisely spoken, Ares," Zeus responded, "but no need to fear. I have taken all necessary measures to ensure that these powers will only work in the hands of those who are worthy."

Just as the conversation was about to continue, a hooded figure entered the room. Unlike the others, she pushed back her hood, revealing a teenage girl with a youthful appearance that belied her divine nature. "About time you arrived, Hestia," Hermes grumbled, his tone laced withp disapproval.

Hestia, the goddess of hearth and home, bowed her head in respect. "I apologize for my tardiness. I had an urgent matter to attend to."

After a brief moment of silence, Zeus spoke up, his voice authoritative. "If you deem it urgent, then it is, Hestia." He reached into his cloak and produced a black box adorned with a rune that shimmered with the gods' collective power. With a gentle gesture, he offered the box to Hestia. "Come, take it."

Hestia stepped forward, her hands reverently receiving the box. "You know what to do?" Poseidon asked, his gaze fixed intently on the goddess.

Hestia nodded solemnly.

"Good," Zeus said. "Then no further instructions are needed. Hermes or another god will visit from time to time after the selection. Come, brothers and sisters, we've lingered long enough. We must return to Olympus."

With a decisive gesture, Zeus slammed his hand on the armrest, signaling the end of the gathering. With a flourish, Zeus slammed his lightning staff on the ground, and in a burst of brilliant light, all eight gods vanished, leaving Hestia alone in the Hearth Chamber. The sudden silence was palpable.

Hestia let out a gentle sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of her responsibility. Clutching the box tightly, she turned and walked away, knowing that her crucial task must begin at once.

[P.R.M.F]

As the gods convened in a distant realm, a sinister atmosphere unfolded elsewhere. The sky turned a deep crimson, like blood-soaked canvas, and thunder boomed in ominous cadence. Lightning crackled across the horizon, casting eerie shadows. Amidst this tumult, a portal materialized – a golden sigil etched with ancient runes, bearing the mark of Emperor Mordred, the legendary nemesis of King Arthur.

Whispers persisted that Mordred, after striking down Arthur at Camlann, met his own demise at the hands of his vanquished foe. Yet, the truth remained shrouded in mystery, for Mordred's body was never found. The runes on the sigil pulsed with a malevolent energy, as if beckoning forth a darkness that had lain dormant for centuries.

As the sigil pulsed with dark energy, Emperor Mordred, now a master of the undead, emerged from its depths. His humanity had long since been extinguished, replaced by an unholy fusion of flesh and machine. Half of his face was a charred, smoldering ruin, while the other half gleamed with cybernetic enhancements, cold and calculating. His muscular arms rippled beneath his black armor, and a gauntlet on his left arm throbbed with an eerie, pulsing light.

With a cackle that sent shivers through the air, Mordred declared, "Come forth, my generals! The time has come for me to ascend to godhood and unleash a fiery reckoning upon the world – a fate that should have been sealed eons ago!" As he strode forward, three enigmatic figures arose from golden sigils, their faces shrouded in shadow. With an unnerving synchrony, they fell into step behind their Emperor, their silence more chilling than any battle cry.

A/N

As you can see, the scene is set for a new series. Fear not, Galactic Defenders will still continue but at a slower pace than this. Xoxo