Rachel spoke in a flat monotone, like reciting memorized lines. "The war god was fighting. The Asian man stabbed him from behind with a black blade. The god fell. The man drank his blood. He laughed while the god died."
Each word was a nail in Marcus's coffin. None of it was true, but delivered in a traumatized child's voice, it sounded devastatingly real.
"Enough," Apollo said, descending from his throne. Lightning crackled around his fists. "I will end this now."
"Wait!" Marcus shouted. "She is lying. Someone put those memories in her head. Look at her eyes. She is not really seeing me."
"A convenient excuse from a murderer," Artemis said coldly from her throne. "The child has no reason to lie."
"She has every reason if someone is controlling her," Marcus insisted. He turned to Zeus. "Give me time to prove it. One day. Let me find who is really behind this."
Zeus studied him with eyes older than civilizations. "And why should I grant mercy to my son's killer?"
"Because I am not a killer." Marcus felt the mark burning beneath his skin, responding to his desperation. "Your son chose me. Ares marked me with his last breath because he saw something worth saving. If you execute me, you spit on his final choice."
The chamber fell silent.
Apollo moved faster than thought, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. His hand wrapped around Marcus's throat, lifting him off the ground. Divine fire burned where they touched.
"Do not speak my brother's name," Apollo hissed. "Do not pretend you understood him. He was war incarnate, and you are nothing."
Marcus could not breathe. Could not speak. The mark flared hot, screaming danger, flooding him with power he did not know how to use.
"Apollo, release him," Zeus ordered.
"No." Apollo's grip tightened. "This ends now."
The mark exploded.
Golden light erupted between them, throwing Apollo back across the chamber. Marcus crashed to the floor, gasping. The symbols on his skin burned white hot, spreading further up his neck, down his arms.
Apollo recovered instantly, fury transforming into something colder. More dangerous. "You dare strike me? In Zeus's own hall?"
"I did not strike you," Marcus coughed. "The mark defended itself."
"Lies upon lies." Apollo raised his hand, and the sun's light condensed into a spear of pure energy. "I will burn the truth from your corpse."
"Enough!"
The voice was not Zeus. A woman stepped from the shadows between the pillars, moving with quiet authority that made even Apollo pause.
Athena.
"Sister," Apollo said. "This does not concern you."
"A trial concerns all of us," Athena replied. She walked to Rachel, kneeling beside the girl. "Especially when the witness has been tampered with."
She placed her hand gently on Rachel's forehead. The girl jerked, trying to pull away, but Athena held firm. Silver light flowed from the goddess's palm, wrapping around Rachel's head like a crown.
"What are you doing?" Artemis demanded.
"Checking for mental manipulation," Athena said. Her expression darkened. "And finding it. This child's memories have been altered. Violently."
The chamber erupted in angry voices. Gods shouted over each other, some demanding proof, others calling for immediate investigation.
Apollo went very still. "You are certain?"
"I am wisdom itself," Athena said quietly. "I know a lie when I see one, brother. Someone has been inside this girl's mind. Someone powerful."
Zeus rose from his throne, and silence fell like a hammer. "Who would dare interfere with divine justice?"
"Someone who wanted Marcus condemned," Athena said. "Someone who orchestrated this entire scenario to ensure we executed him without question."
Marcus felt hope and terror collide. Someone had gone to enormous lengths to frame him. Someone with enough power to manipulate a child's mind and plant false memories.
"The Vesper," Marcus said suddenly. "She had Rachel. She has been using her."
"Accusing a primordial avatar without proof is unwise," Demeter warned from her throne.
"Then let me find proof," Marcus said, climbing to his feet. "Give me time to investigate. To find who really killed Ares."
Zeus considered this, his expression unreadable. "Apollo. Your thoughts?"
Apollo stared at Marcus, grief and rage and doubt warring across his perfect features. "If there is even a chance my brother's true killer walks free..." He closed his eyes. "Three days. You have three days to prove your innocence. If you fail, I personally oversee your execution."
"I need help," Marcus said. "I know nothing about your world. Your politics. I cannot do this alone."
"You will have an escort," Zeus declared. "Athena, you confirmed the manipulation. You will assist him. If he runs, you kill him."
Athena bowed. "As you command."
"Take the child," Zeus added. "Heal her mind if you can. We will need true testimony when this is resolved."
Guards moved forward to collect Rachel. As they led her away, she finally looked at Marcus. For just a moment, her eyes cleared. Recognition and terror flashed across her face.
"Run," she whispered, so quietly only Marcus heard. "She is coming for you."
Then the guards pulled her through a doorway, and she was gone.
Hermes appeared beside Marcus, that cold smile fixed in place. "Three days. The clock starts now."
Reality twisted, and Marcus found himself standing on a Chicago street corner at sunset. Athena materialized beside him, her armor gleaming in the dying light.
"We have much work ahead," she said. "And many enemies."
Marcus nodded, exhausted. Three days to find a killer. Three days to prove his innocence.
Three days before Apollo's fire ended everything.
A black car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing a woman with dark hair and sharp green eyes.
Elena Vasquez. The detective from the police station.
"Get in," she said. "Both of you. We need to talk about who is really hunting Marcus Chen."
Marcus looked at Athena, who studied Elena with interest.
"A demigod," Athena murmured. "Hephaestus's daughter, unless I am mistaken. This just became more complicated."
Elena's expression hardened. "Get in the car, or I leave you to the wolves. Your choice."
Marcus opened the door.
The hunt for truth had begun.