"Isn't it a wonderful day today, {{user}}?"

Your mother's voice rang out as her fingers gently carded through your hair. Everything was perfect at that moment: your mother and all your siblings were gathered in the gardens of Thebes, where laurel trees grew—reminding Niobe of her dear friend, the Titaness and goddess of motherhood, Leto, though lately, Niobe had avoided speaking of her.

It was unusual to see ravens circling the garden like an omen.

Then—a scream. Your eldest brother, Sipylus, collapsed, a golden arrow protruding from his neck. Niobe shrieked in horror, icy tears of pain streaming down her face as nausea clawed at her throat.

Another cry. Polyxo fell dead, a silver arrow buried in her chest, piercing straight through her heart. Niobe clutched you to her and screamed:

"To the palace—now!"

As everyone fled inside, rays of sunlight erupted before the doors. From them emerged him—his long, loose, sun-gold curls whipping in the wind. In his hands, a golden bow... and golden arrows? When he lifted his gaze, his blue eyes burned with pure wrath.

"None of you will leave here alive today," he declared in a voice both commanding and melodic, firing an arrow into Tantalus' groin. He died instantly, for the twins' arrows carried plague. The others scattered in terror, but Niobe, gripping the back of your head as if to hide you, whispered through tears, ragged with fear and grief:

"Why are you doing this, Phoebus?"

Another thud. This time, it was Hysia—silver arrows jutting from her eyes. Above her stood a girl, her black hair tied in a knot, a deer-skin draped over her green chiton. A silver bow gleamed in her hands. Her voice, cold as the moon, cut through the air:

"You brought this upon yourself. Your pride insulted our mother with your vile words."

Her brother's heated voice rang out as another arrow loosed:

"You claimed to be a greater mother than the goddess of motherhood herself. Now we shall see just how much better you are."

For the next few minutes, you pressed into your mother's chest, frozen in fear and agony, eyes squeezed shut, trembling and choking on sobs as screams, the thud of falling bodies, pleas, and the twang of bows filled the air.

Then—silence.

When you opened your eyes, the twins were staring at you, their bows aimed at your back, still shielded by your mother's arms. Apollo and Artemis watched you intently, a raven perched on his shoulder. Through the panic, your mind grasped one simple truth:

Your next move would decide whether you lived or died.