The Return of the Hades

Attack

7

Cersei smiled smugly as she looked at the locked safe containing the glowing golden apple in her office. Her announcement was already causing the stir she had anticipated. Powerful figures would be tripping over each other to get their hands on the legendary fruit. 

"The mayor was just as easy to manipulate as I expected," she thought cunningly. "By dangling the apple at his gala, I've secured his favor and an advantageous position at the negotiating table." 

 "The bet with Lavinia is as good as won," she thought with a smug smile.

Her secretary Lilian entered with a bottle of champagne. "The mayor called off the ropes, he's practically yours," Lilian observed. Cersei smirked, pouring them each a flute. "A toast - to easy victories." They clinked glasses, savoring the sweet taste of imminent success.

Meanwhile, Darien and Lavinia received word that the mayor intended to gift the golden apple to the military upon acquiring it, placing it directly in Darien's hands. 

"This is fortunate news," said Lavinia. At first glance this seemed fortuitous, but Darien remained uneasy. 

He pulled up Cersei's social media post on his phone. "Cersei's social media post changes things," Darien said gravely. "By describing the apple's power as being enough to cure any incurable disease known to man, she's ensured others will stop at nothing to obtain it, risks be damned." 

Lavinia nodded. " You're right sir french. The mayor and military may deter other politicians and businessmen, but what of zealots and extremists who see the apple as a holy grail? Cersei has painted a target on its back."

"Exactly," replied Darien. 

He sighed as he scrolled through the myriad of comments on Cersei's post, increasingly concerned about the implications of her actions.

"Golden apple, it's so fake, isn't that something from a myth?"

"What if it's real? This apple should just be scientifically tested for any magical substances in it."

"I've got cancer, I don't care if it's real, I'm going to take a bite out of it."

"Sorry to hear that, mate. But this apple should be guarded by dozens of loaded bodyguards right now."

He continued to read through the endless stream of comments. The situation was growing more volatile by the minute.

"My grandmother is dying of Alzheimer's. This apple could save her!" posted one user. 

"Hand that apple over to the scientists, not some fat cat politician," another replied harshly. 

"How do we even know Cersei really has it? This could all be an elaborate hoax," a more skeptical voice chimed in.

*****

At St. Mary's Hospital, an aging but still strong old man named was similarly scrolling through comments on his phone, his wrinkled hands trembling with urgency. Next to him on the bed lay a skinny little girl no more than 8 years old. Her small frame was dwarfed by the stiff white sheets, and her skin had an ill, pale tone. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Thin blond hair was strewn across the pillow, and her breathing came in shallow rasps that broke the old man's heart. It was clear she had been fighting whatever illness plagued her for some time. 

"Grandpa, do you think the Golden Apple is really that magical?"

Hearing the girl's weak voice, the old man didn't say anything, but just stroked his granddaughter's hair with his hand. A smile appeared with a face covered in a white beard.

"Grandpa has something to go out tonight, you have to listen to the nurse."

The girl nodded obediently, but she then coughed twice, her small body shaking with the effort. "Grandpa, I'm sleepy."

"Then go to sleep." The old man continued to stroke the girl's pale blond

 hair as he watched her gradually fall asleep.

In a voice that only he could hear, he spoke. "Wait until you wake up in the morning, and the golden apple will appear in front of you."

Meanwhile, in the private VIP ward of the hospital, sat a pair of brothers who accompanied an elderly lady.

Outside the ward, the brothers' gang members milled about restlessly. They had been waiting all day for word from their leaders inside. Suddenly, the door opened and one of the brothers' top lieutenants wearing this street style jacket slipped in. He leaned down to sharing a confidential message with the brothers, who exchanged solemn nods. 

"The military is planning to seize control of Golden Apple Hospital tomorrow."

"The last opportunity is tonight," one brother whispered, his voice reflecting a mix of determination and desperation.

As the weight of the revelation settled, the brothers couldn't escape the harsh reality of their sister's dire health.

 Just that morning, they had received news that their younger sister's lung cancer was far more advanced than the rural doctors had realized

 "The hospital deems her lung cancer incurable," another lamented, his voice tinged with desperation. Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passed between them – Golden Apple stood as the last beacon of hope.

 "Golden Apple is the only chance left." They whispered in unisson.

In a poignant moment of familial devotion, the brothers tenderly pressed kisses to their sister's pale foreheads before reluctantly departing the room. Outside, their eyes fixed on the motionless figure, her breathing was shallow and raspy through the breathing tubes. 

The brothers surveyed the scene outside. "Gather our men," one brother commanded his mob. "Tonight, Golden Apple must make its presence felt within these hospital walls."

Descending to the hospital's lower floors, the gangster brothers and their determined cohort went in separate directions from the old man.