He recognized those sandals instantly—it was Hars.
The ssenger of the gods. The god of travel.
He dropped from the sky with effortless grace, his silver cloak trailing behind him like a cot’s tail.
"Damn show-off," Kael muttered.
Hars hit the ground without a sound—yet the air trembled. Power rolled off him like heat from the sun.
Then he spoke—smooth, sharp, echoing through the courtyard.
"Hello, Children of Olympus."
Then he looked directly at Kael.
"And cousins."
His silver eyes glead like forged moonlight. His silver cloak shimred in the sunlight, casting flashes of light across the courtyard. He stood tall—posture flawless, like he’d been carved straight out of command itself.
No one moved. Not a breath.
Every student knelt, heads lowered, too afraid to even glance up.
Then his voice broke the stillness again—calm, but heavy with authority.
"Listen up, demigods. You were all selected for a quest."
The air tightened.
He waited. Let the silence stretch like tension in a bowstring.
Then continued, "You will enter the crack in the sky."
Confusion rippled through the crowd. Eyes darted. Bodies tensed. Whispers threatened to break free.
He glanced at Chiron, who nodded.
"Students," Chiron said. "You may ask a question."
No one spoke.
The silence was thick now—like the world itself had gone quiet.
Then Kael slowly raised his hand.
"Yes, Kael," Chiron called.
"So... are you saying there’s a world on the other side of that thing?"
"Yes," Chiron answered.
Another student, braver now, stood and asked, "Wouldn’t it make more sense to send the Holy Knights instead? They’re way stronger."
"They’re already on a different quest," Hars answered without turning. "That’s why they haven’t returned."
Then his voice dropped lower.
Deeper.
It carried like thunder crawling under your skin.
"This is a quest from Zeus."
Gasps.
Whispers.
That one na carried enough weight to snap the silence clean in two.
And then...
"Those who retrieve the treasure inside with their team," Hars said, "will have one wish granted."
His words rang through the air like prophecy.
Not a single student moved.
A wish.
From Zeus.
If they succeeded... they could beco legends—like Hercules, like Perseus.
No more "half-blood." Just... gods among n.
But while he spoke, his eyes never left Kael. Not once.
And Kael felt it.
It wasn’t just a look. It was a weight.
A silent pressure pressing down on him like stone.
Inside, sothing panicked. His thoughts spiraled.
He knows.
They know.
He forced himself to breathe.
Then Hars vanished—just a blur of motion and dust.
And in the next blink—he was standing right in front of Kael.
Kael’s body tensed. His knees locked. He hadn’t even seen him move.
Hars towered over him, voice soft but undeniable.
"Raise your head."
Kael’s chin lifted on its own—like the command echoed straight into his bones.
His red eyes t the god’s golden eyes.
"You must be the son of Hades."
"Yes," Kael said. It ca out like a breath—barely his own.
"How is he?" Hars asked. His tone was curious, even warm... but laced with power. "I haven’t seen him in a long ti."
Kael opened his mouth—
And froze.
His tongue refused to lie.
He almost said He’s dead.
It clawed at his throat.
His body wouldn’t let him lie—not to a god.
But then—
He pushed through. Forced the words past his lips.
"He is fine," Kael said.
The words felt like iron in his mouth.
Then, just like that, Hars turned and walked back to the front.
"You will all leave tomorrow," he announced.
"High-quality Greek armor has been placed in your rooms. You’ll find everything you need there."
And with that—he vanished.
Gone.
Kael had never seen anyone move that fast. Not even close.
Students stood up, dazed. A few still stared at the spot where he’d been.
Then the muttering started.
Kael turned to Liz. Her face was pale—empty.
Like her soul had been yanked halfway out of her chest.
He grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and let her fall against his shoulder.
One hand gently stroked her hair.
"It’ll be okay," he whispered.
Back in class, chaos returned.
Questions. Whispers. Excitent.
"Who was that guy?"
"Was that really Hars?"
"Did he say Zeus gave the order?"
Kael and Liz didn’t need to say anything.
Caius handled the crowd like a pro, basking in attention, happily answering everything.
Kael sat beside Liz. She was quiet.
Still pale.
She hadn’t recovered from the encounter.
Then, Professor Callista Ithaca walked in.
Her expression was sharp today. Her voice clipped and precise.
She tapped the desk once. "Today, we discuss the Olympian gods."
Kael’s eyebrow twitched.
More stories. More lectures. More godly praise.
Great.
"The Twelve Olympians ruled as the most powerful gods in existence," she said—her voice calm, but filled with quiet awe.
A golden image of Olympus shimred into view, soft and glowing like a mory of sothing too great to touch.
"Their grand thrones stood in a perfect circle, each carved to reflect its ruler," she added, pointing them out one by one.
Zeus. Poseidon. Athena. Apollo. Artemis. Ares. Hers...
The list went on.
The rulers of the world.
"The Olympians were not just rulers," she continued. "They were a family. Together, they shaped the fate of everything that breathes."
Kael frowned.
Sothing was wrong.
She had listed them all.
But one na never ca up.
No throne.
No ntion.
Hades.
Kael raised his hand, slow and tense.
"Why are there only eleven seats? Where’s Hades’ throne?"
Professor Ithaca answered without pause.
"His throne is in the Underworld."
Like it was obvious. Like it didn’t matter.
Kael’s stomach twisted.
His father’s words echoed in his mind—soft, bitter, unforgettable.
"I am their shadow."
They left him down there.
Their own brother. Alone.
He sat there, frozen, the weight of it all pressing in—tight, sharp, like a vice closing around his chest.
They didn’t care. Not about the Underworld. Not about balance.
Just themselves.
He stayed like that the rest of class—silent.
Until Liz shook him gently.
Caius leaned over, arms crossed.
"So... what’s our ga plan?"
Kael blinked.
Then sat up.
Sothing cold and certain slid into place behind his eyes.
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