Chapter 11: Desmos

Seven weeks later.

The Olympians stood at the entrance of the cave, their gazes fixed on the dark maw of the mountain where the Cyclopes had been forging their weapons.

The air was thick with anticipation, though it was clear that some were more eager than others.

Zeus stood with his arms crossed, grinning confidently. "I can already tell—my weapon will be the most powerful of them all."

Poseidon scoffed. "Oh please, brother. You might command the sky, but the seas are deep and vast. My weapon will be unparalleled."

Zeus turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that. The sky is far more deadlier than some salty water."

Poseidon smirked. "We'll see who laughs last when my weapon wash away the skies."

As their argument continued, Hestia simply watched with mild curiosity, though she showed little excitement compared to her brothers.

Hera, as always, remained unreadable, her stoic expression betraying no emotion.

Demeter, on the other hand, hummed a soft tune, seemingly unbothered by the tension between Zeus and Poseidon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the heavy footsteps of the Cyclopes echoed from within the cave.

Arges, Brontes, and Steropes emerged, their massive figures illuminated by the molten glow of their forge.

Each of them carried a sacred artifact in their hands, radiating divinity and power beyond comprehension.

Arges, the eldest, stepped forward. "It is done. The weapons we have forged are worthy of gods. With them, your power will reach new heights, and the Titans will tremble before you."

A wave of silence fell over the Olympians as the Cyclopes began handing out the weapons, each crafted with divine precision.

Brontes stepped forward, holding a delicate lotus flower made entirely of ethereal blue flames. It burned with a serene intensity, yet its warmth was not one of destruction, but of purification.

"This is the Azure Lotus," Brontes declared. "It burns away evil, purifying all corruption in its path. It is not a weapon of destruction, but of renewal, meant for the goddess who keeps the hearth alight."

Hestia cradled the lotus in her hands, feeling its gentle warmth. She gave a small, content smile.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Steropes approached Demeter next, presenting her with two curved sickles, one silver and the other gold. Their edges shimmered like the light of dawn and dusk.

"These are the Twin Sickles of Harvest," Steropes explained. "One sickle reaps life, cutting down even the mightiest of foes. The other grants life, nurturing all that it touches. Life and death—both are within your grasp."

Demeter traced her fingers along the sickles, sensing the immense balance within them.

She nodded in approval. "Perfect."

Arges then stepped toward Hera, holding up an ornate mirror framed in gold and obsidian. Its reflective surface seemed to ripple like water, distorting reality itself.

"This is the Mirror of Dominion," Arges said. "It is a weapon of control. With your will, it can seal whatever is reflected into an alternate dimension, beyond the reach of even the Titans."

Hera took the mirror, her face as composed as ever, though a glint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes.

"A fitting gift," she murmured, running her fingers along its smooth surface.

Brontes then turned to Poseidon, holding out a magnificent trident. Its prongs gleamed with the deepest hues of the ocean, and its entire structure pulsed with divine energy.

"This is the Trident of the Sea," Brontes proclaimed. "It will amplify your authority, allowing you to command the very fabric of the seas. And with a single strike, it can split the earth and create fissures—both in the land and in space itself."

Poseidon took the trident, feeling the boundless power coursing through it.

He grinned. "Now this—this is a weapon worthy of the god of the seas."

Zeus, watching impatiently, stepped forward. "Alright, my turn!"

Steropes turned to Zeus, presenting him with a long, crackling bolt of divine lightning, pulsating with pure, unfiltered destruction. The very air trembled around it.

"This is the Thunderbolt of Judgment," Steropes announced. "It is the wrath of the heavens made manifest. With it, you may call upon the full fury of the skies. It can erase anything from existence, or unleash a fury of storm to wreck the lands."

Zeus grasped the thunderbolt, feeling the overwhelming energy surging within.

His grin widened. "Magnificent. This is the power of a true king."

Finally, Arges stepped toward Hades, holding out an obsidian crown, wreathed in shifting shadows. The moment it was revealed, the very light around it seemed to dim, as if the darkness itself was alive.

"This is the Crown of Night," Arges declared. "With it, you may exist in another dimension, making yourself intangible, undetectable, and completely immune to any attack from this world. And should you choose to invoke its power fully, it will awaken the "Fear of the Dark", driving your enemies into such terror that their very minds will shatter."

Hades reached out and took the crown, feeling the abyssal weight of its presence.

Although it's far better than the one in the myths, he was still a little disappointed as he finds it underwhelming.

The Cyclopes stepped back, their work complete.

"With these weapons, the tides of war will change," Brontes said. "Use them well."

Zeus twirled his thunderbolt in his hand, grinning. "I'd say the Titans are about to have a very bad time."

Poseidon smirked. "Let's see who slays the most."

Hades simply placed the crown upon his head, vanishing into the shadows for a moment before reappearing.

Hestia sighed, tucking the lotus close to her chest. "Let's just make sure we all return safely."

"Alright!" Zeus exclaimed, "I'll go and test the power of my weapon! Be right back!"

With that, he flew away.

"Mine too!" Poseidon followed suit.

Hestia, Hera, and Demeter stared at each other, before deciding to test their own weapons as well.

Hades remained for a few moments to observe the crown before he turned to follow—only to feel a heavy hand on his shoulder.

He glanced back to see Brontes, his single eye solemn.

"Stay a moment, Lord Hades," Brontes said. "There is something more for you."

Curiosity flickered in Hades' eyes. He cast a final glance at his departing siblings before following the Cyclopes into the depths of the cave.

The air inside was thick with the scent of molten metal and divine energy, yet there was something else—an undercurrent of something ancient, something that did not belong in the realm of the living.

At the heart of the forge, resting on a pedestal of blackened stone, was a weapon unlike any other.

A spear—long, sleek, and menacing. Its shaft was obsidian, absorbing all light that touched it. Barbs jutted from its tip, cruel and jagged, as though thirsting for flesh.

The very presence of the weapon seemed to distort the air around it, a silent promise of death.

Arges stepped forward, his voice low and reverent. "This is Desmos, the Spear of Death."

Hades narrowed his eyes, stepping closer, feeling an unnatural chill run through him. "You forged this?"

Brontes nodded. "The divine weapons for you and your siblings were completed in three weeks. The last four were dedicated solely to Desmos. It is a weapon unlike any other."

Steropes gestured toward it. "It holds a power to reverse causality. An attack by Desmos is not merely a attack—it is an inevitability. Once Desmos name has been called, the cursed spear reverses the nature of causality, the meaning of "cause and effect" in the order of things, to make it so the cause of the 'lance being thrust' comes from the effect of the 'opponent's heart being pierced'."

Hades' gaze flickered in astonishment as he grasped the weight of their words.

Arges continued. "Even if your target dodges or blocks, the spear will correct the course of reality itself to ensure the heart is pierced. And once it lands, it does not simply wound—it devours. It feasts upon the very lifeforce of the one it strikes, draining them until nothing remains."

Hades slowly reached for the weapon, his fingers brushing against the blackened surface. The moment he touched it, a pulse of energy surged through him—a deep, abyssal power that resonated with his very essence.

Brontes added, "It determines the opponent's fate simply through its use, an always fatal move that pierces the heart with one thrust. It is an attack on destiny itself."

"And there is more," Steropes added. "Desmos is not just a spear—it is a key. With it, you may open the gates of the Underworld and even Tartarus itself. Should you desire, you can cast your enemies into the deepest abyss, where not even the gods may retrieve them."

Hades exhaled slowly, lifting the spear, feeling its perfect weight in his grasp. A weapon like this was not meant for mere battle—it was a judgment, a final verdict that no being could escape.

"Why?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm. "Why make this for me?"

The Cyclopes exchanged glances before Arges spoke. "Aside from our gratitute for freeing us. Also because of all the gods, you are the only one who will bear the weight of true judgment. Zeus will rule the skies. Poseidon will rule the seas. But you… you will rule over what lies at the end of all things. You are the last arbiter, the one who must decide the fates of the dead. We forged Desmos so that no force—not mortal, not divine—may ever challenge your authority over death itself."

Hades gripped the spear tightly. It was not just a weapon. It was a responsibility.

A power that could turn the tide of any battle—but also a burden that no other god would bear.

He let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no mirth in it. "Zeus and Poseidon will throw a fit if they find out about this."

Brontes smirked. "Unfortunately for them, Desmos is a weapon meant only for the one who truly understands its purpose."

Hades smirked, twirling the spear.

"Thank you." He turned towards the cyclops, "This weapon will help me greatly."

The cyclops merely smiled at him.

"It is what you deserved."

Hades nodded at them, before turning around to head towards the exit.

Desmos.

Finally, he got his hand on a satisfying divine weapon.

With this, he is now confident on facing Cronus all by himself.

Victory is all but assured.