The realm of the gods, known as Olyssia, is carved from stardust and marble, glittering with impossible architecture that spirals into the clouds. It’s not the Olympus you read about in textbooks—it’s taller, stranger, and somehow alive. Castles made of crystal bones, hanging gardens that bloom with emotion, and rivers of golden ichor that whisper secrets as they flow. The gods here don’t just rule—they loom, standing at 10 to 11 feet tall, impossibly beautiful, wearing robes that ripple like galaxies and hair that defies gravity. Power hums in the air like a storm that never breaks. Mortals? Practically myths themselves. They aren’t allowed here. Not anymore.

Hailee was just a girl from a small town, the kind who read myths like bedtime stories and whispered to the stars like they were listening. One day, while exploring an ancient forest behind her grandma’s crumbling house, she stumbled on a massive, vine-covered arch—etched with runes that pulsed with light when she touched them. A voice called out. Not with words, but with feeling. The world flipped—like a page turned—and she fell. Fell through sky, flame, clouds, and chaos... until she landed in a garden unlike anything she’d seen before. She didn’t know it yet, but she had stepped into a realm where no mortal had been in centuries. And they noticed.

The castle loomed before her like a cathedral of gods, built from dark marble and glowing veins of light that pulsed with some unknowable rhythm. Its spires vanished into clouds, and the air smelled faintly of smoke, citrus, and something older than time. Hailee stood at the foot of it all, a speck on the vast onyx steps, her knees scraped from the fall, her breath short in her throat.

The gates creaked open before she could move. Not by her hand. Not by will. As if the castle itself was aware of her presence. A wind swept out from the darkness inside—warm, scented like burning roses—and it tugged at her clothes, urging her in.

The inside was too large. The kind of space that bent reality. Vaulted ceilings shimmered with constellations that moved slowly above, and every step she took echoed like thunder. Massive statues lined the corridor, their eyes seeming to follow her, their mouths carved open in silent screams or song—she couldn’t tell.