They said I'm power hungry remember?

Enyo stood at the edge of the field, her broad shoulders rigid, muscles tense. She watched the clash unfold before her. Her brother Erebros moved with cold precision, each strike calculated, every movement designed to exploit Medusa’s weaknesses.

Her eyes followed every move, sharp and unblinking. Part of her burned with envy. He’s doing it, she thought bitterly. That moment when she had faced Medusa and given everything and still came up short flashed through her mind. She had wanted it so badly, to rise above, to prove her worth not just as a Dunamis, but as the Dunamis. But Medusa had bested her and now, here was Erebros. Methodical, unflinching Erebros who had always seemed so... in control.

For a flicker of a moment, Enyo wanted him to fail. She wanted to see Medusa rise and strike him down, to show him that it wasn’t just about skill or strength. If he lost, then maybe it would ease the sting of her own failure. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, a wave of shame followed. He’s Dunamis, she reminded herself. He is her blood. He deserves this, even if she never got it.

Right?

Erebros delivered the winning blow, and Medusa staggered. Enyo’s heart raced, a mix of emotions swirling through her. Pride. Envy. Frustration. Admiration. She clenched her jaw, fighting the storm of feelings as Erebros stood tall, victorious. Of course he won.

She should feel proud. And she was...deeply. Like deep down. A knot of bitterness coiled in her stomach. He had done it, and in doing so, reminded her of the battle she had lost.

Her eyes glinted, and she allowed herself a small, tight-lipped smile. "You’ve earned it, brother," she said in a mild congratulatory manner. There was no trace of the inner turmoil. She would be proud of him.


"SPEECH"