The air inside of a cavern was thick with the scent of earth and fire, the flickering shadows casting grotesque figures on the walls.
Enceladus kneeled before the towering figure of the Porphyrion, the King of Giants, the greatest of giants, his presence both commanding and terrifying.
His colossal form was swathed in a cloak of darkness, his eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity, like two burning stars in the cold void.
His voice was deep, a rumble like the breaking of mountains, but there was no anger in it—only an eerie calm.
"Enceladus," Porphyrion voice echoed, sending tremors through the stone beneath them. "Tell me the results of your mission."
Enceladus bowed his head low, the weight of the words he had to speak pressing down on him.
He had failed.
He had come so close, yet Athena had proven herself more than just a goddess of wisdom—she was a warrior in her own right, one that had nearly bested him.
