Who The Fuck Was Parker? They were all wondering!
The silence didn't last long. It never did.
Because the second Nyx finished speaking, Hera rose from her throne. And when the Queen of the Gods stood, the whole damn room felt it.
"Explain."
Just one word. Cold. Sharp. Like a damn knife against the throat.
Everyone knew that tone. It was the tone that had ended empires, torn apart dynasties, and made Zeus himself sleep with one eye open.
But nobody answered her.
Because nobody fucking knew.
"What the fuck just happened?" Ares snapped, slamming a fist against the table. "Parker was supposed to be an entertainment to our eternal boredom not a thorn in our side, not a goddamn executioner! And you—" he pointed wildly at Hermes, "—said he wasn't the kill-on-sight kind of problem!"
Hermes threw his hands up. "I said he was a problem! I never said he wasn't capable of turning someone into fucking Olympian roadkill!"
"Well, maybe you should have!"
