High atop Mount Olympus, Poseidon sat on a stone block beside the garden's shimmering pool. The divine sanctuary sprawled around him—a paradise of towering pillars and juniper trees, cascading waterfalls and vibrant flowers that filled ornate pots scattered throughout. Statues of mythical creatures stood silent watch over the lush ferns and blooming paradise.

  The muscular god clutched his gleaming trident in his left hand, his curly gray hair and thick beard framing a stern face. His piercing gaze remained fixed on the vision stirring in the pool below—his beloved pet, Cetus, gliding leisurely through distant ocean waters.

  Beside him stood his younger brother, Hades, god of the underworld. Thinner and darker in complexion, with thick black hair and a brooding presence, he spoke in measured tones.

  "...But after the Furies sacked the griffin's nest, the male returned and engaged them in battle."

  "I assume the Furies handled it with ease?" Poseidon asked.

  "Almost. They brought it down, but then something truly bizarre occurred."

  "Oh?" Poseidon turned with interest.

  Hades' expression darkened. "Out of nowhere, a massive flying craft descended from the sky—shaped like a fish. Its weapons flashed with lightning and thunder, killing all but one of the Furies before it snatched the griffin and flew away."

  Poseidon's eyes widened. "A flying fish craft... Could it be the work of Atlantean survivors—or perhaps their descendants?" Poseidon's words reflected the incredulity on his face. The thought seemed impossible. No craft should be able to defeat the bat-winged beast-women that haunted the skies. Hades' servants were nearly invulnerable—their fighting prowess in the air was unmatched by almost any creature that flew.

  "I thought the same," Hades admitted. "When the surviving Fury recounted the tale, it hesitated at first, thinking the story too absurd to be believed."

  Poseidon stroked his beard thoughtfully. "A tall tale to be sure. However, this warrants further investigation. Can you send more Fury scouts to gather information?"

  "Of course, Brother. I'll see to it immediately," Hades replied before turning and leaving.

  Aphrodite strolled in gracefully, taking a seat beside Poseidon and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before gazing into the pool below. "Anything of interest?" she asked coyly.

  "No, nothing important," Poseidon replied.

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  "And how is the magnificent Cetus today?"

  "He's enjoying himself," Poseidon mused. "Happened upon a school of tuna—one of his favorites."

  "Oh, how delightful! So incredibly strong and mighty. Will he be ready for Argos?"

  "He will be more than ready, my dear. We both can't wait."

  A sharp voice rang out from the garden entrance. "More than ready for what—massacring an entire city?"

  Athena strode into the garden with authority, her white robe trailing behind her like a wave, her helmet gleaming in the light. The bronze shield slung on her arm served as a constant reminder of her resolve, but it was her sharp, unwavering gaze that truly commanded the space. Poseidon and Aphrodite turned in unison to face her, tension thickening the air at her arrival.

  Poseidon chuckled, his voice rich with amusement as he tightened the grip on his trident. "Dressed for battle, niece? There's no war to be fought here."

  He waved a hand, dismissing the gravity of the situation entirely. "Don't be bitter," he added, his tone almost contemptuous. "Queen Cassiopeia sealed Argos's fate with her arrogance. Mortals should know better than to insult us."

  Athena crossed her arms, her expression a calm mask over the fury beneath. "This sounds more like Aphrodite's vanity being used as a pitiful excuse to slaughter innocents."

  Poseidon's eyes glinted with a hint of malice, though his voice remained unnervingly civil. "They should have considered the consequences before offending her," he said. "Besides, she's given them a choice—out of sheer kindness."

  "A choice between losing a hand or both feet?" Athena shot back, her voice tight with disdain. "That's hardly a choice at all. You seem far too pleased about this, Uncle."

  Poseidon let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "I have a temple in that city as well, you know."

  Athena's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing as she examined him. "Your smallest temple, tucked right beside my second largest," she countered. "So tell me—who truly has more to lose here? I suspect there's something far more devious at play."

  Poseidon's strained smile turned predatory. "Oh, is that so? My apologies. Perhaps when Argos rebuilds—if they rebuild—they should reconsider the dimensions of their temples."

  Athena's eyes flashed, her anger sparking like wildfire. She pointed a finger at him, her voice sharp enough to cut stone. "I knew it! You can't stand that they worship me more than you. This is just another one of your petty schemes!"

  Poseidon let out a theatrical sigh and rolled his eyes. "Why must my dear niece always be at odds with me?" he lamented, his voice oozing mock sorrow. Then, with a fluid motion, he turned to Aphrodite and kissed her. He followed the kiss with a firm, playful spank. She grinned, clearly enjoying the gesture.

  Athena scoffed, her voice dripping with disgust. "Some gods still value dignity and morality."

  Aphrodite responded with a sly smile. "And others value beauty and grace. Run along now, Cousin. Go play warrior with your sword and shield and leave the important discussions to us."

  Poseidon roared with laughter, the sound rippling the air and shaking the very ground around them.

  Athena's gaze hardened. Her voice dropped low and filled with a quiet, seething promise. "One day, you'll get what's coming to you," she said, each word cutting through the air like a prophecy.

  She turned on her heel and left, footsteps echoing with power and purpose. The garden seemed to hold its breath as she stormed off, leaving Poseidon and Aphrodite in stunned silence—the ripple of defiance trailing behind her, impossible to ignore.