The training grounds had never felt this crowded.
The wide expanse of hardened earth stretched beneath the open sky, marked by countless scars from years of battle practice. Usually, only a few demigods trained at a time, their movements steady and disciplined under the watchful eyes of the gods.
But today…
It was different.
Heron stood near the edge of the field, his arms resting loosely at his sides as his eyes moved across the gathering crowd. One by one, demigods arrived, each carrying a presence that made the air feel heavier.
Some walked with quiet confidence, their expressions calm and focused. Others moved with visible pride, their posture straight, their eyes sharp as they glanced at those around them. A few seemed cautious, as if unsure why they had been called here.
Heron exhaled slowly.
"They've never gathered us like this before," he said.
Beside him, Kaelion stood with his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes were alert, observing everything. "No," he replied. "They haven't."
Heron glanced at him. "You think this is about what we felt?"
Kaelion didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze shifted toward the center of the training grounds, where the largest space had been cleared.
"Most likely," he said after a moment. "The timing is not a coincidence."
Heron nodded slightly.
That strange feeling inside him stirred again, faint but persistent. It hadn't left him since the forest. If anything, being here—surrounded by others—only made it more noticeable.
Almost like it was reacting.
More demigods continued to gather.
Voices began to rise, low conversations spreading across the field.
"What's going on?" one asked.
"No idea," another replied. "But it must be serious."
"I heard something about disturbances."
"Disturbances?"
Heron listened, but said nothing.
No one had answers.
Only guesses.
"So this is where you've been."
The voice cut through the noise like a blade.
Heron turned.
A tall boy approached, his steps confident, his expression sharp. There was a natural intensity about him, something that made others instinctively move aside as he passed.
His presence carried heat—not overwhelming like a god's power, but controlled, like a flame waiting to grow.
He stopped a few steps away from Heron.
"I've heard about you," he said.
Heron raised an eyebrow slightly. "Have you?"
The boy smirked. "Heron. The one who trains alone."
Heron didn't react. "And you are?"
"Draven."
The name hung briefly in the air.
Kaelion shifted slightly beside Heron, his attention sharpening.
Draven crossed his arms, studying Heron carefully. "They say you're strong."
Heron met his gaze. "They say a lot of things."
A few nearby demigods turned their attention toward them.
The tension was immediate.
Draven took a step closer. "Let's see if it's true."
Kaelion spoke calmly, though his tone carried a warning. "This isn't the time."
Draven didn't even look at him. "I wasn't talking to you."
Heron raised a hand slightly, stopping Kaelion.
His eyes never left Draven.
"You want to test me?" Heron asked.
Draven's smirk widened. "Unless you're afraid."
The air between them tightened.
A faint energy stirred around Heron—subtle, controlled, but noticeable.
"I'm not afraid," Heron said.
For a moment, it seemed like they might move.
Like the tension would break into action.
But then—
A powerful force swept across the entire training ground.
The air grew heavy.
Every demigod froze.
A voice echoed, calm yet commanding.
"That is enough."
Aethrion.
The King of the Gods stood at the far end of the field, his presence alone enough to silence every sound. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Draven stepped back slightly.
Heron lowered his hand.
Aethrion's gaze moved across the gathered demigods, sharp and unwavering.
"You have been called here for a reason," he said.
The demigods formed a wide circle.
Silence settled.
Every eye fixed on Aethrion.
Heron stood among them, his thoughts still unsettled, but his attention focused.
Aethrion stepped forward.
"For generations, this world has known peace," he began. "The balance between forces has remained stable. Order has been maintained."
His voice was steady.
Controlled.
But beneath it—
There was tension.
"That balance," he continued, "is beginning to shift."
A ripple of murmurs spread across the group.
Heron's gaze shifted slightly toward Kaelion.
So it was true.
Aethrion's eyes hardened slightly. "You have all felt it."
No one spoke.
But no one denied it.
"The disturbances are small… for now," Aethrion said. "But they are growing."
Draven spoke up. "So what does that mean for us?"
Aethrion looked at him directly. "It means you will train."
A few demigods exchanged glances.
"That's it?" one muttered quietly.
Aethrion continued. "More intensely than before. You will be tested. Pushed. Prepared."
Heron frowned slightly.
Prepared… for what?
Aethrion didn't answer that question.
"You are not yet warriors of war," he said. "But if the time comes… you must be ready."
The weight of his words settled heavily.
Something was coming.
And everyone felt it.
Training began soon after.
Pairs were assigned.
Movements sharpened.
Skills tested.
Heron faced a quiet opponent, one who moved with careful precision. Their strikes met in controlled clashes, each testing the other without going too far.
Heron moved smoothly.
Focused.
But not fully.
That feeling again.
It pulsed faintly inside him.
Distracting.
Unsettling.
He stepped back suddenly.
His opponent lowered his stance slightly. "What's wrong?"
Heron shook his head. "Nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
The ground beneath his feet felt… strange.
Unstable.
Just for a brief moment.
Then—
It stopped.
Heron frowned.
Across the field, a few others shifted slightly.
They felt it too.
Kaelion's eyes met his.
No words were needed.
High above, from the palace…
The gods watched.
Silent.
Observing.
Waiting.
As the training came to an end, the unease did not fade.
If anything—
It had grown.
Heron stood still, staring at the ground beneath him.
That feeling…
It was spreading.
And now—
It wasn't just him anymore.
Far beneath the training grounds…
Deep below stone and earth…
The darkness pulsed.
Slow.
Heavy.
Patient.