"My son… you, whom I forged in defiance of destiny itself.Firstborn of my sorrow, last light of my deeds.You bled for me when I could not bleed. You suffered for a dream not yet your own.But I speak to you now, across the rivers of time and torment—Know that your pain shall not fade into the ash of forgotten wars.I, your father, will find you.When the stars are kindled anew upon the ruins of gods and daemons alike,When the last lie falls silent,I shall find you, my son."
UNKNOWN
IN THE DEPTHS OF THE JUNGLE OF THE ISLAND
The thick, emerald canopy swallowed the sky, painting the world below in hues of shadow and damp golden beams that pierced through the leaves like spears of celestial fire. The air was heavy with the mingled scents of wild orchids, damp earth, and the subtle metallic hint of approaching bloodshed. In the undergrowth, unseen creatures whispered their ancient songs of dread, disturbed by the unnatural stillness that hung over the clearing.
Here, beneath colossal monuments of stone, whose carvings told tales too old for mortal tongues, an army waited. Silent. Resolute.
They stood like living statues amid the crumbling glory of their ancestors—tall, fierce women of bronze-kissed skin and storm-lit eyes. Their bodies, though feminine in form, radiated a predatory grace and a terrifying strength that could humble the bravest of mortals. These were the Amazons, forged by the will of the Olympian gods, their souls ignited with divine sparks.
Their gleaming weapons hummed softly in the moist jungle air, as if thirsty for the blood of those who dared set foot upon sacred soil. Yet, though their discipline held, the air quivered with tension; they were not unshaken, for they awaited an enemy foretold in ill omens.
Behind the phalanx of bronze and steel, the Amazonian encampment pulsed like a quiet heart. At its center rose a crimson tent, guarded by fierce maidens whose shields bore the sigils of Athena. Within the tent, the scent of oils and herbs filled the air, mingling with the acrid undertone of sweat and pain.
Inside, four figures occupied the space. One, pale but defiant, lay upon a makeshift bedding of thick furs and fragrant reeds. Her breath was shallow, her eyes hollowed by fever and venom—but her will remained unbroken. Before her, three warriors clustered around a battered map spread across a tree stump, their faces cast in grim determination.
"We are where the oracle said we must stand," murmured one, her finger tracing the folds of parchment, her brow creased as she spoke.
"I do not see the wisdom in waiting like prey." another one, fiercer, barked with frustration. "Why do we not bring the battle to them? This is our island, our domain. For millennia, we have trained and bled upon this soil. We cannot lose a war fought upon the very grounds we sweat everyday"
Her words echoed harshly in the confined space.
"No, Agave," the one before countered, her voice edged with sorrow. "We cannot win this battle through steel alone. Without the favor of the gods, we are as vulnerable as any mortal."
Agave sneered bitterly. "The gods? They abandoned us to rot beneath their gaze. They allowed Poseidon's filth to roam free and desecrate our sister. They sat idle as we suffered."
A heavy silence followed.
"Mind your tongue, Agave." The voice of Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, cut through the air like a blade. She was regal even in the dim torchlight, her authority absolute, her words carrying the weight of ages. "They are still the gods, and we are bound by our oaths. Do not forget who forged us from the clay of justice."
For a moment, the argument died on Agave's lips, but the storm in her gaze did not abate.
Lysippe ,the one observing the map spoke again, quieter now. "With all respect, my queen, this war... it began with your sword. Slaying Poseidon's spawn has brought doom to our gates."
"You would have had me stand idle and watch our sister violated?" Hippolyta's voice was like stone grinding upon stone. "I would see this entire island burn before I allowed such sacrilege."
Agave's face softened, her defiance tempered by the painful truth. "Never... never would I wish such fate upon us. But killing a son of Olympus carries a heavy price, and now the heavens turn from us."
"Enough," Hippolyta commanded, rising to her full height, towering over them all. "This battle shall be fought here. The jungle shall bleed with their filth. If the oracle decrees this the place of their fall, so be it. We stand. We do not falter."
She turned toward the frail figure upon the bedding, kneeling beside her.
"Rest now, Antiope," she whispered, brushing strands of sweat-soaked hair from her sister's brow. "The poison will fade soon. I will see to it that you are taken to safety. This battle is ours to fight."
Antiope did not speak, but in her eyes flickered the same unyielding fire that lived in all their hearts.
Then—clamor outside.
"They return! Make way!"
The tent flaps burst open. Two Amazons stumbled inside, dirt clinging to their skin, leaves tangled in their hair. They knelt instantly, breathing hard.
"My queen, we bring news," gasped Alke one of the two, her voice raw from shouting.
"Speak, Alke. I am listening." Hippolyta's gaze never wavered.
Alke swallowed hard, the memory of what she had seen still fresh upon her soul. "An army of men has come ashore... brutish in numbers and as ravenous as beasts. They unload siege engines upon the reefs as you foretold. But..."
She paused, fear flickering in her eyes.
"But what, Alke? Speak!" snapped Agave.
Hippolyta raised a commanding hand, silencing the warrior's impatience.
"Go on, Alke," the queen urged softly.
Alke drew a trembling breath. "Among them... we saw a giant of a man. He carried a club that could crush mountains, draped in the skin of the Nemean Lion. If the tales from the outside world are true... it is Heracles himself."
The tent fell into suffocating silence.
Even Agave's tongue froze.
Hippolyta's face darkened, the fires of old grudges rekindled in her storm-gray eyes.
"This... changes everything," Lysippe whispered.
Indeed, it did.
For now, they faced more than men.
They faced a living weapon of Olympus itself.