Scene One: The Serpent and the Flame
The forest was quiet. Dusk lingered like a bruise in the sky, painting the trees in violet and gold.
Medusa sat on a fallen stone, arms wrapped around her knees, her serpents coiled tightly around her head. Her once vicious presence now trembled with uncertainty. She was not imprisoned, nor restrained—only watched.
Megumi approached alone.
The air crackled faintly around him, his aura still fractured from the earlier petrification. Yet his gaze was calm, almost… gentle.
"I know what they did to you," he said.
Medusa didn't move. Her voice was low, coarse. "You think you understand what it means to be cursed?"
Megumi sat across from her, just far enough to avoid her gaze. "No. I remember.Not just as Megumi Valentine… but something deeper. Something older. I saw the war—the betrayal. I was there when gods were not yet gods."
She turned her head slightly.
"I know Poseidon forced himself on you… in Athena's temple. And instead of punishing him, she punished you. Turned your pain into a prison. Turned you into a warning. They called it justice. But it was shame. And fear."
Medusa flinched, the serpents hissing softly.
"No one's ever said that," she whispered.
"They wouldn't," Megumi replied. "Because then they'd have to admit that they created their own monsters. I've been where you are. The gods killed Ava. My child. They called her a threat. Just like they called you a threat."
Medusa's breathing was shallow. Her voice cracked. "You came here to kill me. Why tell me this?"
"Because I don't want to kill you," Megumi said. "I want you to help me burn Olympus down."
She looked at him now, directly—but his divine aura shimmered like a mirror, shielding him from her curse.
"If you help me," he said, "I'll break the chains that bind you. I'll undo what Athena did. I'll give you back your life—your face—your name."
The forest held its breath.
Medusa stared at him, her voice barely audible.
"…You can't undo divinity."
"No," Megumi said. "But I carry something older than divinity."
He stood and extended his hand.
"Help me. And we'll make them pay."
Silence.
Then slowly—cautiously—she took his hand.
⸻
Scene Two: The Cage Cracks
Far below the earth, Tartarus groaned.
Zeus and Poseidon stood before the massive throne where Cronos sat, his rusted chains now glowing as they strained against ancient runes. The Titan's eyes narrowed, his hunger not for food—but dominion.
Zeus sliced his palm and let divine ichor drip onto the runes.
Poseidon did the same.
The symbols flared—then shattered like glass.
The bindings fell from Cronos like dead vines.
"Why now?" the Titan asked, rising to his full height. "Why free me… now?"
Zeus answered, eyes hard. "Because we've made a mistake."
Cronos grinned with cracked teeth. "Then let me fix it."
The ground shook. Far above, cracks split the earth near the summit of Mount Olympus.