Under the cover of night, a small group waited outside the city walls.
Apollo stood at their center, his cloak pulled close as he watched the distant silhouette of Orario. The city lights were faint from this distance, but still visible enough to remind him of what he had lost.
Behind him, the remaining members of his familia stood in tense silence.
One of them stepped forward.
"Everything is ready," Clio said quietly. "If our information is correct, that church is the source of those weapons and equipment. Once we take control of it, production becomes easier. And if we are fortunate, we may even secure a few hostages."
Several others nodded, anticipation flickering across their faces. For them, this was not just another mission.
This was their chance to make a come back.
Their plan was simple. Enter under the cover of darkness. Move quickly. Take control before anyone realized what was happening.
A clean strike.
Apollo said nothing as For a brief moment, something unsettled him.
A quiet resistance in the back of his mind. A thought that this might be a not a good idea. He frowned slightly, then dismissed it.
"I'm overthinking" he said with the smallest voice.
They had already fallen this far. Hesitation now would change nothing.
He raised his hand.
"Move."
The group advanced immediately, slipping through the darkness like shadows, closing the distance between themselves and the city they were no longer welcome in.
Once inside the outer districts, the group split without needing further instruction.
One man broke away, carrying a tightly wrapped parcel. He moved quickly, keeping to the narrow streets and avoiding the few patrol routes still active at this hour.
His destination was not the church.
It was the Pleasure Quarter.
Even deep into the night, that district never truly slept. Faint music drifted through the air, accompanied by distant laughter and soft conversation spilling out from open windows.
When he reached the entrance, an Amazonian woman stepped forward, blocking his path with practiced ease.
"Stop. State your business."
Her tone was sharp, but not hostile.
The man raised his hands slightly, careful not to make any sudden movements.
"I'm here on behalf of Apollo," he said. "I need to deliver something to Lady Ishtar."
The reaction was immediate as everyone knew Apollo's situation. The idea of someone relating to him Appearing here was suspicious.
But as guard she knows it was not her place to make decision without hesitation she stepped aside.
"…Follow me."
Even as she turned, the unease remained visible in her posture.
Because people didn't arrive at this hour carrying Apollo's name unless something had already gone wrong.
---
They passed through several corridors before reaching the inner chamber.
Ishtar sat elevated above the room, her posture relaxed, her expression calm.
Too calm.
Her eyes settled on the messenger long before he spoke.
"So," she said lazily, "Apollo sends someone to me in the middle of the night."
Her gaze shifted to the parcel.
"What does he want?"
The man bowed.
"My lady, Apollo asked me to inform you that he will begin his operation tonight."
That caught her attention.
"Operation?"
"He intends to take control of the church responsible for producing those weapons."
She leaned forward slightly.
"And you're telling me this now?"
"Yes," the messenger replied carefully. "Once secured, those weapons will allow him to stand openly against the other familias instead of remaining outside the city."
Her expression cooled.
"And what exactly does he expect from me?"
"He anticipates interference," the messenger said. "Other familias may respond."
She rested her chin on her hand.
"And he wants my familia to handle that."
"He asks that you assist in preventing other interference."
A pause. Then a quiet laugh.
She leaned back, irritation no longer hidden.
"And he chooses to inform me at the last moment? What does Apollo expect—that I ensure his success with minimal loss?"
The messenger hesitated.
Then spoke.
"If the operation fails… and Apollo is captured… he may be forced to speak."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh?"
"About matters," he continued, "including the previous incident involving Lady Freya."
Silence filled the room. then a slow smile formed on her face.
"…So this is how he speaks to me now."
The messenger lowered his head, fully aware that a single wrong word could end him here.
"Lord Apollo believes it would be best if tonight proceeds without complications."
She studied him.
"And how exactly am I supposed to manage that?"
Her tone sharpened.
"You're not suggesting my familia should confront Freya or Hephaestus directly."
"No, my lady," he said quickly. "Only that you provide support."
He stepped forward and placed the parcel before her.
"With this—and your current resources—it should be sufficient to assist Apollo and delay interference."
Ishtar's gaze settled on the parcel, but she made no move to open it. She didn't need to. The intention behind it was already clear.
Apollo wasn't asking her to win, but what he was asking wasn't much easier. There was a clear difference in strength between her familia and Freya's, and this plan was unstable, risky, and likely to collapse the moment something went wrong.
Even so, refusal wasn't an option.
If apollo failed—if he was captured and forced to speak—her involvement with Freya would come to light. And once that happened, there would be no room left for negotiation, only consequences she could not afford to face.
Ishtar exhaled slowly before lifting her gaze back to the messenger.
"…Very well. Leave it."
The man obeyed immediately.
"You may go."
He bowed deeply and left without hesitation, not daring to look back.
The moment he disappeared, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The earlier calm faded, replaced by quiet movement as Ishtar rose from her seat.
"Gather the familia."
Her voice carried across the chamber, clear and decisive.
The Amazonian near the entrance moved at once, already relaying orders as others began to stir. The stillness broke into controlled activity, preparations spreading through the building without confusion or delay.
Ishtar's gaze lingered briefly on the parcel before she looked away.
Whatever happened next, she would fight but her priority would be slightly different.
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