Stone rained down from the ceiling, each slab disappearing before it could hit the floor.
The second mass from beyond forced its way halfway through the doorway, dragging the cold that devoured sound and color with it. Each breath tasted of iron and endings, and Zeus could feel the pressure trying to squeeze his lungs flat. Even as the lightning sputtered from his ruined arm, weak and useless, he pushed himself forward.
They were losing.
Not by degrees, not by inches. The math was simple, and every heartbeat the thing on the other side of the door pushed forward, and every heartbeat they spent trading blows with the Father was a heartbeat they could not afford to waste.
Athena's voice rang out, sharp through the din. "The door is the only thing that matters! If it finishes crossing-"
