The air above Olympus still reeked of blood and smoke when Zeus turned from the broken ranks of gods. His storm was steady now, coiled around his shoulders like a cloak, and his eyes burned with decision.
Nyx slipped from the shadows beside him, silver gaze calm, robe spilling stars across the cracked marble. She had not spoken since the battle ended. She did not need to—she was night itself, always present, always watching.
Zeus faced her. "Go to the underworld. Hades bleeds, and he needs your veil more than I do. Wrap his domain in shadow. Hold it until I come."
Nyx tilted her head, lips curving faint. "Ordering night itself is bold."
Zeus's eyes did not soften. "You stood beside me, Nyx. Stand beside my brother now."
The stars in her robe flickered. For a heartbeat, her gaze lingered on him, sharp and curious, as if she weighed whether he was asking or commanding. Then she gave the faintest nod.
"As you wish, Sky King."
The night folded, and she was gone.
