Whatever called Medusa only needed her intention directed towards it to act. A raw, all-consuming force rose from the earth, encased her body and pulled like a mountain-sized magnet. Her feet, fuelled by the same force, barely touched the ground as she raced at breakneck speed.

  She got the vague sense that Hippolyta was on her tail, but the feeling quickly faded as her speed tripled. On instinct, a dense sheet of aether encased her body, and just because, she attempted to resist the drawing force only to find she was no match.

  The world blurred around her as she took a sharp curve without any prompting on her part. Then another bend. Her blazing speed would have felt exhilarating if her concern wasn't rapidly rising. The key was somehow in sync with whatever pulled her. It's cool logic that usually reigned over her senses had crumbled under a feverish, alien eagerness.

  Then she stopped so abruptly that she pitched ahead, her arms cartwheeled before she managed to plant a foot forward. Her heart was strangely calm; she wasn't sweaty, and her breath was even. It didn't even feel like she walked here.

  Righting her stance, she looked ahead and frowned in confusion. She didn't know what she was expecting, but an outcrop wasn't it. It barely surpassed twenty feet.

  Where was the darkness-belching crevice she saw in her vision? And the air around felt normal without the subtlest shift in aether. The feeling of that oppressive darkness that called was completely gone, as if she imagined it.

  She turned to take in how far she had come. No wreckage marked her path, and the land was flat with the mountains a faint border in the far distance. Shrubs, as opposed to the towering trees of the woods, were scattered about. It resembled savannah grassland, but with far greener plants.

  Confused frown deepening, she returned her focus to the rock. Now that she looked more closely, there was a jagged vertical crack across it. At least six feet long and holding clinging vines straining for sunlight.

  Medusa reached for the key to see if there would be some reaction, but it was silent—too silent if you ask her. Resolving to try the only thing that made sense, she reached for the rock and found a warm, ordinary surface.

  "How disappointing..." She began pulling away when a staggering load of aether surged from her and drained into the rock. Snatching her hand away as if stung, she observed the rock with wide, horrified eyes. It had drained her to near dregs.

  Instinct told her this wasn't a mere rock. If she willed it, it would make a way, not because she could suddenly manipulate the earth, but more like...

  "A locked door yielding to a key," Medusa mumbled as she reached for the rock again, as if mesmerised. To no surprise, what was once unyielding made room.

  The crack widened, exposing a chasm so dark it revealed nothing. That familiar feeling returned, like she had experienced whatever dark energy lurked inside. Didn't mean it was wise to enter, though.

  She glanced behind, noting no sighting of Hippolyta or Rico. Should I have left him like that? I should return—

  Before she could complete the thought, that earlier magnetic force surged and yanked her into the darkness.

  Medusa sensed a cutting. Whatever bound her to Clotho vanished, and in its place was a jarring emptiness. Even as she called for her in her head, it was her inner voice speaking to nothing. This wasn't like that time in Drys Valon when the Moirai was gone; this felt much worse, as if Clotho had completely ceased to exist.

  Thoughts of the Moirai quickly pulverised as Medusa took in what lay before her. Yes, it was dark, but her eyes, by some miracle, could see in clear shades of grey.

  It was a twisted botanical garden in an expansive hall with a high, cave-like ceiling and towering columns around which thick cords of pulsing vines curled.

  Fog spread at ankle level, hiding what the ground looked like. Was the air poisoned? Her lungs did not burn. Wait, was this even real? She touched her face and pinched her cheek. Pain registered.

  Even more concerning.

  She lingered where she stood and only realised she still wielded the glaive when her fist tightened around it. The key, now back to its steady pulse in her chest, didn't tug her in any direction.

  Forming an even tighter aether shield around herself, she took the first step, then the next and so on.

  The place was infected with a malignancy. She could see it in the twisted shape of the trees and the wrinkled leaves. A blight that left sparse patches of health in a sea of death. The soil beneath her feet felt loamy and loose, her sandals sinking in and leaving footprints soon covered by the low fog.

  Nothing moved, which was strange. She could sense a soft wind against her face coming from ahead, but the diseased leaves did not rustle in response, nor did the fog around her feet shift without her movement stirring it.

  She had just walked past a cluster of overgrown thorn bushes when she saw it. Ahead, a tall barrier stood. Its wall, which reached the high ceiling, churned like the surface of a black sea, pouring waves of that dark energy.

  This energy belonged to...

  She had first sensed it the time she met Atropos in her domain and even more vividly when she faced Perseus. His sword had flared with it. Did that mean—

  The blunt strike got her square in the chest, ripping her off her feet and hurtling her through the air. Her sense of coordination scattered as she tore through vegetation, whizzed past a pillar by a hairsbreadth and crashed. Chunks of earth went flying as her back bowed from the impact.

  Her aether shield had cracked, but it thankfully neutralised the horrific pain she would have suffered if it hadn't been present. She needed to get up, but her body, locked in the position she had fallen, took its time to readjust.

  Fog curled around her face as she blinked in a stupor. It was the aether loss from earlier. That had to be the reason she was taken by surprise. But why was the ceiling moving? No. Something was moving on the ceiling. Springing to her feet, she strained her vision.

  As if she had seen wrong, the ceiling returned to its stillness, but now there was a scraping sound. Something large was dragging over dirt and what sounded like loose gravel. Whipping around, she observed every shadow, every shift. Whatever stalked was familiar with the place's layout and used it to its advantage. She could catch nothing, even after straining her sight.

  A blink after, and her stalker was before her face. It attacked her eyes with a blaze of stinging red, the only colour in the hues of grey. Frozen, she could only take in the looming monstrosity.

  It possessed the head of a lizard with rows of fangs for teeth. Red eyes marked with dark slits for pupils, and the most notable feature that made the beast somewhat recognisable was its flared frills. They spread like a crown around its head, with rings of red strobing in disorienting shades.

  It aims to stun me.

  No sooner had the thought registered that the kolkhikos drakon lunged at her. Nightmarish mouth wide open as it hissed a hot, salty breath over her head. Her eyes stung, the sensation similar to what she felt whenever she met the gaze of her gorgon form. It still didn't attack, only staring with dagger teeth bared and red rings flashing. Was it waiting for some reaction?

  When Medusa took quick backwards steps, it released a chuff, glared with a calculating gaze, and slightly tilted its head to the left.

  Were the red flashes supposed to do something to her? A poisonous gaze, perhaps? Judging from the state of the vegetation around, that could be the case.

  The drakon twisted in a fluid spiral, rising and rising. Medusa gawked at its full form. Its body resembled an Asian dragon's back on Earth, the key difference being its head and four feet. Each foot was scaly like those of a bird of prey, with gleaming black claws, curved and wickedly sharp.

  This drakon was significantly different from what she had read about kolkhikos drakons. For one, the lizard before her was easily a hundred times the size of its species, and the red, flaring circles around its frills were unusual. Perhaps it was guarding something. From what she read, kolkhikos were good at guarding treasures. They seamlessly fuse with their chests and flare into venomous action if anyone but the owner attempts to tamper with what they guarded.

  This drakon, though... now it had curled around one of the towering columns from where it watched her with that intelligent glint in its eyes. Since it was bigger and fiercer, did that mean it was guarding a treasure of unspeakable worth? Medusa's heartbeat kicked up with anticipation, but there was a problem.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  A brief check of her body and she realised she hadn't even recovered a quarter of the aether she lost before she was sucked into this place. That aside, there was a wrongness in this place's ambient aether. Drawing it into her reserves may be deadly.

  Something rustled behind her, and she turned in time to see vines, each as fat as a large python, shoot for her face. Twisting around, she swung her glaive, slicing in an arch. They fell in unison, thrashing and spurting black like they were actual beheaded serpents. Then even more came, sliding beneath the fog, only to shoot for her from multiple directions. Handling them was nothing, but they did hamper her alertness against the bigger opponent.

  She jerked to the side at the last moment, narrowly missing hooked claws aimed at her midsection. It withdrew from her sight, and the vines resumed their assault. Darting at her, whipping her across the back, doing their damn best to keep her disoriented. Swallowing a hiss of frustration, she slashed at the subtle flare of danger, and this time her blade met something much more solid, but it slid off hard scales, completely ineffective.

  Its tail whipped from the left, striking her arm with enough force to shatter her shield, break her bone and send her sailing again. Pain and rage flared as her arm snapped back in place, the healing process gulping her already sparse aether reserve.

  Gritting her teeth, she twisted mid-air and shot off the column she would have crashed into. Drawing out a poisoned needle, she threw it at the drakon's eye.

  That damn turfed tail interfered. It slapped the needle aside as the drakon screeched at her. More of that frill flaring, and this time, its eyes appeared even redder. Air acted weirdly around its body, too, forming mirages as if the beast gave off heat.

  Medusa could sense it; this beast was by far the strongest she had ever faced. Whatever treasure it was guarding had better be worth it.

  Without looking, she slashed at vines shooting at her. One managed to get her around the ankle, tugging with a shocking granite grip. She freed herself with a downward slash.

  A way to end this prodded the back of her mind. Shifting to her gorgon form may level the playing field somewhat. Then she recalled the horrific pain that morning. Would she be able to concentrate on a battle with that level of agony flaring across her back?

  The other problem was her weapon. The glaive had a long reach, so it was good against the vines, but her polearm skills were decent at best. A rock-armoured drakon was leagues above marauding slavers. Even her decent skill had failed her then, barely got fifteen minutes into the little war, and she was dead at thirty-four. A crying shame her fourth life was.

  Sighing internally, she decided to press on with the glaive and throw in more needles. Less than a minute into a direct clash with the drakon, she came to a sobering realisation: it seemed the beast was toying with her.

  Its first attack had come with a speed and viciousness that completely took her by surprise, but now its attacks were measured and slow.

  Resolving to pour everything into her next attack, she replaced the glaive with her daggers before shooting for the drakon at her fastest speed. She was easily yanked to a stop, ribs creaking in pain as she was squeezed in a slow but steady constriction.

  She stabbed down with both daggers, pouring all that was left of her aether into each strike. Her blades slid off bumpy scales, even throwing off sparks in their uselessness.

  Medusa grew dizzy as her body throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

  What sort of beast resists aether-enhanced strikes so casually? Was it her aether manipulation that was weak? She dismissed the thought. Yes, her aether reserve was low, but her strikes were the deadliest she had ever managed, even more than what she achieved when she faced her sister. So what was this beast that made no sense?

  Blood flooded her mouth and leaked past her lips as the drakon tightened its grip further. Lifting her until they were at eye level, it huffed in her face, expelling a cloud of fog so thick it exposed only the muted glow of its red eyes.

  Weakly straining for freedom achieved nothing but tearing pain. For a brief moment, Medusa considered allowing it to swallow her. Maybe I can stab it through its mouth—

  No. The beast may be intelligent enough to kill her first.

  Giving up, Medusa reached for her last option. All the while she faced the drakon, her gorgon form had not stopped pressing to make an appearance. Getting crushed and swallowed was far worse than scalding pain across her back.

  Seeming tired of playing with its food, the drakon's unhinged jaw broke through the fog at the same time Medusa shifted. Then she frowned. Something wasn't right. The key was doing something to her body.

  I'm swelling. Why am I swelling? As she grew, the drakon was forced to loosen its crushing hold.

  Skin. Hair. Claws. Everything was the same but different. The snakes were there, her skin still bore the translucent scales, and her claws were... claws. What was strange was her current size.

  She stood at least twenty feet tall. How?

  The drakon crashed into her, drooling jaws snapping at her neck and claws digging into her side. Now its attacks were ferocious, far removed from the calculated movement it previously displayed.

  Medusa stumbled under its vicious assault, still dazed by the reality of her new size. She held her hand before her face as questions and worries exploded in her head. How is this possible? Eyes leaving her hand, she sought out the drakon and observed it.

  Even though she was now twenty feet tall, the drakon was still massive. It stretched to a length of at least forty feet and had the girth of a large tree.

  It shot at her again, resuming its feral attacks. Claws ripped through her skin. Blood spilt, but curiously, she felt nothing save for the constant ache between her shoulder blades.

  When its tail whipped at her face, she snatched and squeezed it. Her grip, now powered by the key and what she drew from the Monolith vein, crushed the offending appendage before she let go.

  Hmmm. Interesting. Ignoring the pained shriek of the beast, Medusa stared at her clawed hands and flexed her fingers. If aether was burning coal, the Monolith's energy was propane, and the key was the ignition that also stored everything she'd drawn from the veins. She made a mental note to sincerely thank Clotho. If she hadn't accepted that drink, it may have taken her a longer period to reach this level.

  The drakon screeched and came for her, its saw-like jaw unhinged. She let it bite her arm and, in the same move, stabbed its eye with poison-laced claws.

  It ripped off her, blood pouring like tears as fog billowed from its nostrils and mouth. Soon, the place was clouded with thick fog.

  Standing straighter, Medusa rubbed her fingers together, checking if its blood was poisonous. Her skin didn't sting or discolour, but the points where its fangs had broken her skin appeared black, with webbed veins. It healed quickly with no negative effects she could sense in her body.

  The fog was even thicker now. Once in a while, she'd spot a pair of glowing red eyes move like taillights, then disappear. So its eyes had recovered. Interesting. It was doing more of that stalking, but this time, Medusa was more sensitive to its movements. She couldn't pinpoint its location, but she sensed its attention.

  Her snakes shifted restlessly around her neck and face, each rearing their head and looking about. The vines no longer attacked. And the stillness was back, its silence like a tightly strung string on the cusp of snapping.

  When the drakon finally attacked, Medusa was ready. Again, its jaws were unhinged, with strings of venom stretching from sharp teeth to sharp teeth and frill spread.

  Claws pressed tight, Medusa calmly stabbed into its open mouth and pushed until she grabbed what felt like bone. It bit down on her arm, but she didn't care. Drawing from the key, she squeezed and yanked with all her might.

  Hot blood splattered across her face as the weight of the beast surged forward. It was thrashing, the force of its mad movement shaking the ground and shattering a column. Refusing to let go, she fell upon the beast. Knee pressed against its large trunk, she swiped at its spread frills, ripping it with her claws.

  She continued tearing the beast apart. Even bathed in its blood and kneeling in the midst of the death-poisoned air and the coiling fog, she did not stop. She only returned to her senses when her fingers brushed something cool in the midst of all that warmth. It was smooth to touch. A stone? She swiped her fingers across it, and she realised it was indeed a stone, humming not with aether but the Monolith's energy. And there was a rune etched on its surface. Her attempts to pry it free proved futile; it was fused with the bones of its spine.

  Huffing in determination, she poured in even more of the monolith's essence and tugged. It dislodged at last, revealing a perfectly symmetrical stone. Save for the mirages forming around it, it was almost identical to her practice stone. The rune etched into its surface was unfamiliar. Maybe Theos Tongue or something else?

  Drawing the stone into her dimension, she pushed to her feet and observed what remained of the drakon. The vibrant red had dimmed to a reddish grey, and its eyes, that once flashed with crimson ferocity, were empty grey orbs.

  "You should have just let me take the treasure, you stubborn lizard," Medusa muttered before frowning at her appearance.

  She was covered in blood, and her clothes were gone due to her increase in size. How troublesome. If this was how it was going to be, then it would be wildly embarrassing to shift to her gorgon form in public. Now that she thought of it, the titan statues scattered across Tartarus were all clothed. So, there may be a way to ensure public decency, right? Or were they all permanently in titan form and wore large clothes?

  Wait! Did that mean she was a titan now?

  At merely twenty feet? No way. Medusa shook her head, then frowned when she recalled the appearance of her curse. The first time they met, she had loomed over her like a skyscraper. Could this be—

  Medusa. The whisper slid from one ear to the other, and she was immediately struck with a sense of deja vu. This had happened before, but unlike the vision where she met Lachesis, this felt ominous.

  She tried to shift back to her human form, but first shrank to her regular-sized gorgon form, then to the redhead. As for covering herself up, she had two options in her dimension: the jingling training uniform or the bodysuit that still bore her sister's cut. Medusa went with the latter.

  The voice still called, urging her to come. She could already guess who might be waiting at the other side, judging from the abounding energy in the place.

  Atropos had attempted to kill her twice. The wise move would be to turn around now and flee while she could, but the key said something else. It was still curious, buzzing as if an actual treasure, not death itself, waited for them on the other side.

  Kicking her fear in the teeth, she took a step forward and continued until she was before the barrier. This time, much closer. If she stretched an arm, she would break the surface.

  And she did just that.

  She was underwater, and ahead was a dot of dim blue light. It was strangely similar to visiting Clotho's domain, but with an awful twist. Unlike the refreshing feel of the ocean pressing around her, that off-putting dark energy abounded in the water, and it relentlessly pressed against her skin.

  Medusa shivered as she swam, pushing herself faster than she ever had until she burst through the light. Blinking repeatedly, she swiped a hand over her dripping face, eager to see what lay ahead.

  Edits. Manages to write. It's trash. Why is it trash? I'll try tomorrow. Please don't be trash tomorrow. It's still trash tomorrow. Ah! Rinse. Repeat. Siiiiiiiiiigh.