God of Storms |The Anak Series| [COMPLETED!]

Eleven

The red shadows of Tartarus bent at command. Perseus stalked through those shadows, walking with comfortable confidence. Perseus drew Celestion, and at the sign, Zoe unleashed her arrows. The feral cyclops stumbled around, eyes wide with apprehension. This was an abnormally large horde of cyclops. Zoe immediately killed a fourth of them.

Perseus followed. He fell from above, and he ravaged the little, horrible creatures. When he originally came to Tartarus, cyclops almost ended him. He was different then. Weaker. Perseus knew that much.

Suddenly, Perseus stopped. He let his aura flare, killing the rest. This was too easy to be worthwhile. He left one, a little ugly creature, perhaps slightly larger than the rest.

Perseus turned away. Zoe did the talking. He met her eyes, hardened black with the cold of Tartarus. She slung her bow behind her back and knelt down. She glared at the cyclops, her hands lacing around its throat.

"Where are you gathering?" She spat. The cyclops shrank under Zoe's glare, but it remained silent. Zoe promptly threw the creature into the nearest mountain.

Perseus nodded in approval. Known as the Storm King, Perseus had become infamous throughout Tartarus. Zoe held her own. As the Huntress, every monster recognized her silver arrows. Even the stupid ones.

Perseus respected Zoe, but he was careful to keep his distance. He was too dangerous.

Zoe held the bloodied creature against the mountain. "Where are you gathering?" She repeated. She clenched her jaw. Frustrated, she slammed the hilt of her blade in its guts. "Why are you gathering?"

That much was a fact. Tartarus stirred awake, and something was rising with it. No one was talking. For now, the secret remained in the night.

Perseus thrived in the night. "Kill it," he ordered.

Zoe complied. She breathed heavily.

"I know," Perseus said. "The Sixth Challenge is tomorrow, but you're right, Tartarus is changing." He paused, tightening his cloak over his armor.

"I'll talk to Typhon."

She nodded but said nothing.

***

Perseus rarely felt himself anymore, but here, with his weapons drawn, ichor dripping from his back, Perseus felt alive. His hair dangled in front of his eyes, hiding the hint of his smile.

He had never fought a golem before, but the Sixth Challenge was known to be unique. Of course, Perseus was alone here, but he would have it no other way. Zoe would be fighting her monster soon enough.

The golem reared its ugly head. Soulless eyes mocked him, and Perseus saw himself. He let himself smile, a rare smile, as he dashed forward.

The black creature was a mountain, a hunk of twisted stone and metal, a curse of magic and monstrosity. It was lifeless, and so it wanted his life. A bitter creature.

Laughing, Perseus slid underneath its legs. He rammed Celestion through its back. Lightning erupted from his blade.

The golem shattered at the force.

Perseus exhaled. He stood straight, but he knew it wasn't over. How do I kill something that is already dead?

The rubble clumped and lumped together. Gruesomely, the golem gravitated together. It grew, standing taller and taller.

Perseus narrowed his eyes. More power. He just needed more power, so he charged. But twisting, at breath's length, he barely dodged the golem's hands. They were tainted gold and red, the lifeblood of both immortals and mortals alike.

The black beast thundered. It met Perseus' challenge with an equally abrasive attack. Perseus stumbled back. More power.

He knew he had everything he needed. He knew who he was. Perseus, firstborn of Kronos, the god of storms, heroes, valor, and space, champion of Nyx and Typhon. I am the Storm King.

Perhaps I have a little bit of monster in me.

Celestion and Maros grew hot in hands. Sweat turned to ichor, dripping down his forehead. The hum in his hands resolved to a roar in his ears. Perseus lived. His vision sharpened. He could see everything.

He spun. With electric force, he crushed his shield through the golem's neck. Again, the golem crumbled. Was that the fourth or fifth time? Perseus lost count. It didn't matter. He would do it again and again. Whatever was needed to win.

As the golem regrew, Perseus let his aura flare. The golden energy coursed through him. He closed his eyes. The ebb and flow directed. Fitted, square, and tight. It trickled in the soft of his palm and into Celestion, centered.

Perseus opened his eyes. He became a literal storm in battle, whether through thunder, earthquakes, or hail, but now Perseus let the storm focus inwards. He made the storm. He was made out of the storm.

Everything fell silent.

The thunder ceased, the earth fell silent, and the hail vanished.

The golem plunged forward.

Perseus opened the floodgates. At the touch of Celestion, the golem fell to dust.

Gone to nothing.

***

Perseus' hands found Typhon's medallion, as he walked to Typhon's palace. The ornate black signified his position at Typhon's right hand, but Perseus had changed from the powerless god that fell to Tartarus.

The gates opened at his beckoning. His feet knew the way, step after step, his past rose, simmering, a shadow beneath him. He was weak, yes, but Perseus felt right in his own skin then. Of course, he was never the perfect champion, but . . .

He had a sanity to him.

Perseus found Typhon in the gardens. The flowers smiled wide at him. Perseus ignored it.

"Perseus," Typhon murmured. He turned. With a grim smile, he met Perseus' eyes. The storm in his eyes raged a little harder today. "I knew you would come."

"Then you know why I'm here."

Typhon let his gaze fall to the ground. His scars flashed in the light of the gardens. Typhon was different tonight. His storm was captive. "You know the signs," he breathed. "Old, ancient creatures rising, monsters gathering, the storm is rising."

He paused, dazed. "Even Lady Nyx has called her children back to her realm. She's scared, Perseus." Typhon scoffed. "What scares a primordial? Pray, tell me."

Perseus had seen Lady Nyx's power firsthand. The night stretches, unending in Tartarus. What does she have to fear? Unending in Tartarus. Tartarus.

"Another primordial," Perseus answered. Involuntarily, dread rose in his throat.

"Yes, my father is awakening," Typhon shivered.

"Tartarus."

Suddenly, Perseus felt cold.

Hello. It's been a long time. Glad to get a chapter out. Any questions?