hydra | svt

.: uzfepjlj :.

INFERwn

the empty seat hardly goes unnoticed by the others and yet not a divine soul is brave enough to mention it, lest they face the wrath of the shrouded figure sat rigidly at the head of the table, his grip so strong on the arm of his chair that it cracks the mossy stone.

the council have met for a total of ten mortal minutes by now and not a word has been uttered. the white hot anger emanating from the head of this council is enough to burn any lingering vowels to ashes and so the members wait, hiding their true anxiety behind a facade of compliance and patience.

though refused to be spoken about, it was no mistake that the numbers had since dwindled. with hecate, hermes and demeter no longer fulfilling their place at the table, the draft seemed a lot stronger and the chill from the damp creeped in slightly more. and now the stark disappearance of seat number seven left the stone chamber sober and frigid.

"if i may..."

the deity poised in the sixth seat, the seat on the verge of being exiled by the other five, clasps her hands in her lap as she utters the first words of the meeting. however, her calm diplomacy is defiled by a cry that tremors the stone encasing them all. the deities all but jolt in their seats, despite readily expecting this outcome.

"THAT DAMN DRUNKARD."

each word is punctuated by a jab to the table, splintering the dark wood beyond repair. though the irate figure is hardly scathed, his disciple closest to him brushes stray dust and stone out of this squid-ink locks with a quiet chuckle.

"if he's going to be that way, then we have no choice."

the volume of his voice had considerably dropped but the poisonous venom remains in each word, corrupting the vines that had slithered through the cracks and stifling the musky air born from the damp. nothing but decay fills the room as the figure's anger overflows into his surroundings; had they not been gods, the five around the table would've been nothing but rotting flesh and brittle bones.

"sir, if i may..." the sixth seat spoke again, a sense of urgency lilting her voice. although the figure had settled back into the shadows, he seemed not to hear her.

"you have no one but him to blame. the divine timing may be wrong but i've never felt stronger in my life. and thus, we must prepare for battle. the group that call themselves 'seventeen' must live no longer!"

as the others cheer, thirsty for battle and bloodshed, the figure in the sixth seat can do nothing more than run her shaking fingertips over the cool pearls draped across her clavicle, obscured from all by the dark velvet cloak.

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sorry for the slow updates ! school has started again and i've been playing lots of genshin impact oops