The laughter still lingered in the courtyard. Hermes was doubled over, Apollo rubbing his temple in defeat, Athena glaring knives at Nyx while Ares looked like he wanted to break something but couldn't decide what.
Nyx spun in the middle of it all, arms wide, twirling like a dancer, her robe flaring with constellations. "Ah, Olympus," she sang, voice soft as a lullaby, "so stiff, so proper, yet so easy to rattle."
But then it came.
A sound.
Not thunder, not quake. A roar.
The air above Olympus split open like cloth ripped by claws. The sky groaned as if a wound had been torn in its very skin. Gods froze mid-laugh, their smiles dying at once. Even Nyx's spinning stopped, her silver eyes lifting.
Through the tear came a voice.
"ZEUS! COME OUT!"
