Relationship Holes

That night, the war council huddled up for another session. Hades, Poseidon, and Ginrius gathered everyone before the Underworld seat, where they showcased the spoils of their campaign. Both potion and apple were placed on a pedestal for everyone to see, by far their most valuable asset in the fight against Olympus.

The idea was to combine these reagents to form something even more potent, much like what they did for Typhon's soul and the Scythe of Cronus. Only this process demanded far more than just basic cosmic metallurgy, and was neither performed nor construed before. Binding two god-slaying elements was a terrifying concept for anyone in their right mind.

"Do we even know what happens when we mix those two?" Demeter raised the first inquiry, clearly wary of the resulting product. The apple alone was potent enough to beat Typhon; blending it into Cronus' bane might do more harm than good.

"We have no choice. I have arranged for its delivery, but we only have one shot at it," explained Hades. "Zeus has to imbibe both."

"Why is that?" Ares asked.

Hades picked the apple up before carrying on. "This fruit halves strength upon consumption." He stared at it in a mixture of awe and disgust, held it in such a way that caressed and crushed it. "The problem is, at this point in time, we have no definite estimate of Zeus' peak."

"We only know that even alone, he is more than a match for us twelve Olympians combined," Poseidon vexingly supplied. "Working with that approximation, half his power would still be enough to level our ranks."

"So you're saying we should just kill him?" Aphrodite pitched from the comfort of her divan. Her lax poise juxtaposed her message to the point of caricature, but her husband served as the perfect ridicule deterrent. Everyone resisted a snide comeback, save for the dark lord himself.

Hades turned his attention to the goddess of love, humoring her with his own question, "Did you know why Zeus devoured his first wife, Metis?"

"Because he wanted to screw his sister instead?" joked Aphrodite, finally bringing that cascade of laughter.

Poseidon, who was chuckling himself, got berated before the goddess. When Hades continued everyone was prim and proper, in fact, not a single sound escaped the crowd. Tartarus appeared to coincide with the dark lord's mood, and right now, it looked hungry for insurbodination. "Because their son was foretold to dethrone him, like he did his father before him. Aphrodite then grew out of his head and the rest is history, but the unnamed son remained trapped inside him, more than doubling his already immense strength."

Relishing his reclaimed audience, Hades moved on with bettered note. "No-one knew because the secret was kept between us chiefs and Apollo, whose Oracles churned out the prophecy to begin with. To summarize, Zeus possesses the life force of two and half gods—at least—and armed with the most powerful Hecaton weapon ever forged. The Divine Lightning, mind you, can also be used to amp his power even more."

Given this context, the demoralizing silence became understandable. Hades just spelled it out for them: Half-assing their efforts will result in nothing but failure—and failure relating to treason equals demise. There was no turning back now. If a workable strategy meant death to their king, then the king must die.

And at the league's lowest point, Zeus just had to epitomize bad timing by thundering in a surprise announcement. It echoed strongly even in the bowels of the Underworld, reaching all his target audience. "To my fellow gods, this is your king, Zeus, extending you a final chance to abandon your treason. Return to my side before dawn breaks, and I shall see to it that you are pardoned of your transgressions. Refuse and I shall personally crush you in the upcoming battle."

After the declaration, it was panic's turn to settle in on the Underworld. Even their new recruits, Hecate and Dionysus now appeared hesitant, and have retreated to a corner to convene on their own. These two were known for their neutral approach when it came to war, surprising many for even choosing a side on this one.

It was one wave of chaos after another, which was funny considering Eris, its patron goddess, wasn't even involved.

"And you call yourself gods!?" Hades then announced himself, exerting dominance over his realm's impressive acoustics. Zeus may have the best amplifier in the market, but he owned this one studio. He plain refused to be outgrowled. "Do you not see that Zeus is panicking himself? Why extend this clemency now, when the battle draws near? This is sign of his crumbling pride and desperation—our time to strike is at hand!"

While this pep sufficed for some, the bigger players remained half-convinced. There's always that someone in the board who made things more complicated than it already was. Buzzkill duty fell on Demeter this time around. "But you said yourself that he would crush us."

"As Aphrodite suggested, only if we take half-measures," said Hades.

The love goddess could do nothing but roll her eyes, but her son, Eros, would not stand for it. "Do you really believe we could still win?"

"With the utmost certainty," reprised the dark god. "After all, we have the one thing that makes our victory as sure as nightfall—the reason why you chose this side to begin with." He turned to Ginrius, who looked so puzzled, he was almost human. "…my son, Ginrius, the prophesied destroyer of Olympus."

Everyone recounted Hades' elevator pitch; about the prophesied demigod from before who, despite lacking Heraclean credentials, managed to worm his way into godhood. When you take the future into consideration, even the nigh-invincible Zeus seemed trivial.

"But prophecies can be averted—that's why we have them in the first place, father," debated Rhadamanthus, a point his brethren supported.

"Can it really?" Hades had the momentum now. His confidence was set on solid ground, and no hater could troll him enough to abandon his post. "Think Zeus and how he ate his children like Cronus did, only to have us set the prophecy back in motion. In the end, we're struggling against something that is way beyond even us gods. Are you willing to fight against something like that—something that dwarfs our own existence?"

But that wasn't all. Hades' experience as judge, jury, and executioner of souls, made him one heck of a prosecutor. "Thus far, we all worked together to oppose fate whenever it disfavored us… Now a good half of us is laboring to make it come true. There is no finer cause to rally behind than destiny—we can win this!" he lawyered the ultimatum down.

***

The council closed with the majority voting for the improved potion. For their expertise in concoctions, it was personally brewed by Hecate and Dionysus, with the latter reportedly fainting from the tonic's fumes alone. Hades personally saw to their trump card's safekeeping, locking it in a sealed chest kept within the confines of Tartarus.

But the talking was far from over, at least not with Ginrius, who was very new to this prophecy involving him. He all but kicked his father's door down, unwilling to extend the slightest allowance for courtesy. "Was this prophecy the only reason you saved me?" he skipped to the agendum.

"No," Hades said with a straight face. "Truth be told, I believed we could avert the prophecy by circumventing the print, this time regarding the demigod part."

With Ginrius primed for more details, the dark god carried on, "But even now I realize that the prophecy was not about you at all, at least not to begin with… It was about your darling love, Minea."

Hearing Minea's name, the godsmith's confusion became even more warranted. "What?! How?!"

"See, when we receive prophecies, we get but glimpses of a whole. In your case, the prophecy came with an image of you, leading all four of us to the same conclusion." Hades paced around for a bit, before uncorking a flask of ambrosia and pouring himself some. "I'll have you know that both Poseidon and Zeus wanted to slay you there and then, but as you are my child, and it was my turn to pick one for godhood, I pushed for the more reasonable alternative."

"But then it spiraled out of control, and here we are," Ginrius said, deescalated by a good level.

"Spiraled sure, but out of control? I hardly think so. But yes, have we been wiser back then, we could have tracked Minea down instead, turned her into a goddess and see how it goes."

"Well, we could still call for a truce," suggested Ginrius. "All I really want is to be with her... If Zeus lets off, we don't have to go to war."

Hades' peal of laughter echoed through his domain; dark and rich, it double-meant a victory cry. When he was done, his parting words would haunt Ginrius' dream until the war ended. "With Zeus' current ego and pride, there is no turning back on anything. I gather he would rather die first—all of Creation could die first… There is more to this conflict than meets the eye, Ginrius, and when the time is right, you'll know exactly why we have to win. But for now, let's concentrate on what we can do, shall we?"

Yet again, a satisfying resolution eluded the godsmith. It's true that it didn't make complete sense: the way half of the pantheon agreed to rally behind his fight. There was something else there, between the lines he was missing.

But Hades was also on point in dealing with the issues one at a time. Overanalyzing the already convoluted turnout would only result in missteps. His reason for fighting the war was to keep Minea safe, plain and simple. As long as he could achieve that, the gods could do away with their conspiracies and dysfunctional family drama.

The next morning, Team Underworld awoke to a stir. The Anti-Zeus potion appeared to have been stolen. All the evidence leaned towards Dionysus as the culprit, who had vanished from his quarters without notice. Just like that, they were left with one less trump card and Olympus with one more.