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Chapter Text

ALTERNATE *SOLARBALLS (2022)* UNIVERSE 999SOLARCONFESSIONS999

JANUARY 2007AZ:

“You…destroyed the early rocky planets! Lied about it! Then ejected Planet X and lied about it again??!!” the Sun clenched his teeth furiously as X smirked, experiencing schadenfreude after so long.

Jupiter bowed his head and bit his quivering lower lip before looking up at him with a devastated expression. “Yes. All of this is true, Sun.”

While the other planets either yelled in denial or booed and accused him of being a killer, Sol lifted his chest and frowned disappointedly.

“You are not who we thought you were,” he firmly stated. “I have no choice but to — ”

“Banish me—I understand. I-I’ll go. Just please…have Planet X take my place, and have Ganymede and Europa and the rest of my moons orbit him.”

The yellow dwarf scoffed at him. “You think you can make demands after all this?”

X hovered forward. “He brings some fair points, Sun. Ganymede and Europa’s past behavior could be attributed to Jupiter’s bad influence.” The said planet bowed his head in devastation. “I think under my orbit, they should improve their ways.”

Sol reluctantly gave in. “Fine—you two can come back.”

Ganymede and Europa smiled before Jupiter opened his mouth. “Before I go, can I — ”

“No!” the Sun cut him off as his lips trembled. “Just leave, Jupiter. I don’t want to see you. None of us do.”

The largest planet spotted his previously confused siblings, who shared conflicted expressions. Luna zipped in front of Earth just in case X’s words were completely true.

“Okay, I’ll go. I’m—I’m sorry,” Jupiter apologized in resignation as he gradually headed towards the edge of the Solar System.

Planet X glanced in his direction, satisfied with the end result. “Goodbye, Jupiter.”

But before the gas giant was no longer visible to the others, another familiar voice—this time female—hollered, “Wait! Don’t go!”

Jupiter halted and spun around while Neptune, Triton, and Proteus instantly recognized who it was as soon as the celestial object revealed herself (alongside three other individuals).

“Deia? Despina? Is that you?” the smallest ice giant gasped in surprise.

Laomedeia nodded once. “Yeah Neptune—it’s us.”

Triton rushed over to them, checking for potential injuries. “Are you guys alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Despina forced a smile. “We’re fine, big brother. Nothing to worry about.”

“Hey guys!” the moon with a diameter of 420 kilometers happily greeted them. “What’s up?”

“Hey Proteus,” Laomedeia replied softly.

Concurrently, Saturn hovered to where the other two individuals were located.

He breathed unevenly. “R-Rhea? Tethys? H-How much did you…?”

The larger moon hesitated for a second. “We—didn’t eavesdrop on the whole conversation. Just the last part.”

“Yeah, we came when Planet X—when he talked about the Grand Tack,” her brother added.

“When Jupiter migrated from 3.5 to 1.5 astronomical units before reversing direction and reaching his current orbit at 5.2 AU,” Laomedeia elaborated.

“We—we also know about the protoplanets and how they…well…” Rhea stumbled on her words. “Technically we were already born before the current Inner Planets formed…”

“Ah, so you do know about it,” the navy blue planet mused, locking his eyes on the four moons that just arrived. “I admire your knowledge, Laomedeia—and you too, Rhea. Nice to meet you guys, by the way.”

They simply blinked at him as X continued. “Now I know what you’re thinking—how could I possibly know your names? Well…let’s just say I’ve been watching the Solar System for a looooong time and…oh! Pardon me,” he chuckled. “I forgot to greet the others. Hello, Despina and Tethys. Nice to meet you too.”

Laomedeia and Rhea eyed him warily while Despina and Tethys frowned with similar expressions, but none of them said a word as Saturn’s eyes widened.

“Wait—you guys know about that? How?” he asked.

“Deia often listened to Makemake’s lectures when we were little,” the larger Neptunian moon casually stated. “Then she became a genius herself.”

“Rhea too,” the fifth-largest Saturnian moon chimed in.

Both named satellites ducked their heads and smiled modestly, remaining silent.

“Ahem!” Sol alerted the group. “Hate to interrupt, but what exactly are you four doing here? And why did you tell Jupiter to wait? You know precisely why I asked him to leave.”

The gas giant himself was genuinely curious as to where this was going, including the others who were present (particularly X and Saturn).

What is happening…??

Laomedeia scowled in disagreement as she faced the yellow dwarf, sick and tired of all the shit that occurred since the Moon Revolution. Even though she wasn’t personally involved (along with Luna and Tethys), this time she couldn’t back down. The woman had to stand up for herself and what she thought was right.

“By your logic, you might as well banish all of us from the Solar System,” she countered.

Everyone gasped dramatically (except for Despina, Rhea, and Tethys). Then the Sun’s jaw wobbled in agitation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he challenged.

Triton floated next to his little sisters with a disapproving glare. “Listen—I don’t think you two should get involved in this.”

“Deia and I are adults, Triton. We can handle this,” Despina reminded him.

“She’s right,” her sister pointed out. “Besides, this is important.”

Neptune’s major moon wanted to protest. “But — ”

“Triton, please…trust us on this,” Laomedeia persuaded.

He sighed and backed away reluctantly as the other satellites arrived, wondering what the commotion was all about. However, they remained in the background for now, a few muttering amongst themselves.

Sol cleared his throat again, catching everyone’s attention. “Laomedeia, I have to say—I did not expect this from you out of all people, and yet here we are. So I’m gonna ask you again—what did you mean by your previous statement?”

The heart-shaped moon looked at her three siblings, all four bobbing their heads as everything was finally set in motion in order to proceed with their plan.

“Jupiter is not the only one who accidentally caused deaths in the Solar System,” Laomedeia explained. “Others have made the same mistake.”

Most of her siblings were perplexed by her words, whispering among themselves whereas others paled instantly, recalling memories from millions (or billions) of years ago they swore to avoid or deny. At a safe distance, X’s smile faltered while Sol laughed humorlessly.

“I’m sorry—are you telling me that most of my rocky planets were killed by accident? Because according to Planet X, they were murdered! And last time I recall—murder requires intention,” he growled the last sentence.

“Tell him Saturn,” the 42-kilometer moon pleaded.

He nodded and moved forward until he faced the Sun directly. “Laomedeia is right—it was an accident. Jupiter did not intend to kill them. That’s what he and I were trying to tell you…until we were interrupted.”

Sol blinked rapidly. “W-Wait…so Jupiter didn’t do it on purpose? I-It was an accident?”

“Yes,” Saturn confirmed.

“Does it matter?” Planet X retorted. “At the end of the day, Jupiter’s so-called mistake was permanent! And worst of all, you and him lied about it for billions of years! Oh, and let’s not forget that you two literally ejected me out of the Solar System and lied about that too!”

“Which was also an accident,” Saturn calmly reminded him. “Jupiter and I never meant to send you away, and we are so—so sorry for that. In fact, he wanted to bring you back as soon as possible, but I stopped him from doing so.”

Sol continued processing this information. “Why?”

“Because the Solar System was already too unstable and…Jupiter and I finally realized how strong our gravities were, combined or not. So I told him that if we went after X, then the entire system would’ve destabilized,” the smaller gas giant replied.

“And when it did stabilize, why didn’t you go looking for him then?” the Sun questioned.

“Like I said—Jupiter and I were and still are essential to maintaining the balance of the Solar System. So if we left at any point, the current rocky planets would’ve either collided with each other or been destroyed by your Roche limit. And Uranus, Neptune, and everyone else would have drifted away for good,” Saturn clarified.

“Or maybe you two didn’t look for me because you were afraid of getting caught!” X argued.

“You’re right—but that wasn’t the only reason. Remember, we didn’t want to repeat the same mistake, especially Jupiter. That’s why he worked so hard to become better over the years, transforming into a decent role model for our new little siblings,” the ringed giant persuaded, which earned surprised reactions from the other planets.

Planet X groaned in disbelief. “Sun, are you seriously buying any of this?”

Instead of answering him, the yellow dwarf slowly turned to his firstborn planet, who returned his gaze. “Jupiter—is this true?”

Chapter Text

SAME DAY:

Planet X facepalmed. “Are you seriously asking him out of all people?! The one who lied to your face for billions of years about the protoplanets’ deaths and my fate?!”

The Sun took a deep breath. “X, I will get back to you in a second.” Facing his biggest planet once again, he repeated his question. “Jupiter?”

The gas giant nodded sadly. “Yes Sun. Everything Saturn said was true. We didn’t try to silence X. It’s just…e-everything spiralled out of c-control and um…” He bit his lower lip. “E-Even though we lied, which we’re not trying to excuse by the way…I-I don’t think any punishment w-would’ve been worse than…”

Sol was confused. “Worse?”

Jupiter blinked back tears. “A-After our second lie, w-when Planet X was ejected, w-we um…I asked Saturn what to do, and he—he told me we’d make things right from that moment on, a-and I agreed with him. But in the process, we—we knew we had to live with what we did—what I did…for four-and-a-half billion years.”

He cleared his throat. “And that right there—was our real punishment. Because I—we had to live with the fact that we were the only ones who knew how our sisters really died.”

Jupiter explained the aftermath of the situation—how him and Saturn held a funeral for their baby sisters a few weeks after their deaths, even when Quarta and Quinta collided with each other, which led to both giants elaborating on Jupiter’s inward migration and Sol ordering him to stay there, thus increasing their fear of him.

Again, it wasn’t an excuse for their lies, but it was understandable why they felt the need to resort to that. After all, when Jupiter and Saturn were born, the Sun promised in his gentle voice that they would never have to be afraid of him—but ultimately that promise was broken after Quarta and Quinta’s sudden deaths, leading to Sol’s current personality.

But 4.5 billion years of overwhelming grief and guilt that gradually accumulated in Jupiter’s chest finally spilled over in the form of saltwater. Through shaky sobs, the gas giant blurted out how awful he felt over his mistakes that he wished to god he could take back. And if that were possible, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

There was no one in the universe—not even Planet X—who hated Jupiter more than himself, and that his actual punishment had started immediately after the Grand Tack. So yes, his banishment was ironically the easy part. Forcing himself to live with his screw-up and keep it a secret was much harder.

Even Saturn couldn’t grasp the amount of pain he suffered, which he swore to protect his younger siblings from, as well as the Sun.

Yet I failed in that department too.

Jupiter’s tears increased, weeping over how much his deceased protoplanetary sisters would’ve loved meeting the other planets and/or spending more time with them if their lives weren’t cut short. But sadly, it was too late. He couldn’t turn back the clock and change anything. And because of that—he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

So no, Jupiter didn’t drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness (not that he had body parts other than occasional hands). He didn’t plead his siblings to reconsider their negative stance on him and understand the ramifications of his collective failures. Hell, he even expected them not to buy his explanation and instead dismiss it as an ‘emotionally manipulative sob story’.

But surprisingly, that wasn’t the case because the other seven planets were wracked with guilt of their own. Mercury and Neptune had unshed tears in their eyes, Venus and Mars scowled deeply since they wanted to forget their own mistakes, Earth and Uranus had quiet tears streaming down their faces, and Saturn was a blubbering mess himself.

However, they weren’t the only ones who harboured feelings of regret and remorse. Despina and Laomedeia exchanged anxious glances with Triton, soundlessly begging him to confess. At first, he gradually shook his head…until he spotted half the planets openly crying. Then he finally resigned to his little sisters’ persistence and inhaled sharply.

“I…I-I guess if this is the time to come clean, then might as well…” Neptune’s spherical moon began nervously as everyone else locked their eyes on him.

Jupiter and Saturn’s tears stopped instantly, though their eyes were still puffy and red as Earth and Uranus mirrored their expressions, except their crying decreased at a gradual pace.

“Deia was right earlier. Jupiter’s not the only person who—who made that kind of mistake,” Triton continued. “You guys probably know by now that I wasn’t always a moon, but originally a dwarf planet from the Kuiper Belt near Orcus and Pluto.”

Sao nodded. “It’s true.”

“Anyway, it didn’t last long. After Neptune switched orbits with Uranus, he moved outward and accidentally captured me in the process. And as soon as that happened…” He swallowed thickly. “I…I-I was moving so fast that I couldn’t…I-I couldn’t slow down and…by the time I decelerated, i-it was too late.”

“I…” The Sun was at a loss for words. “W-What do you mean by that?”

The retrograde moon ducked his head in shame, unable to say it as Laomedeia decided to take over.

“Is—is it okay if I…?” she asked as Sol bobbed his head, giving her permission. “Well—like Triton said, his capture caused him to accelerate extremely fast, which meant that…his five previous major moons were unintentionally destroyed. Neptune and his irregular moons directly saw it happen.”

Her younger Neptunian siblings winced painfully while the others gasped in shock. Then the heart-shaped moon inhaled shakily, blinking back tears of her own as she displayed a clear diagram above her head, emphasizing specific details.

“Billions of years ago, Neptune’s original satellite system used to be like the other giants. His spherical moons formed within his protolunar disk, thus having a regular prograde circular orbit near his equatorial plane,” Laomedeia said.

“Now as you know, there are four ways moons can form: co-formation (protolunar disk), fission (ejected planetary debris), giant impact (collision), and capture (gravitational pull),” she continued. “I’m one of Neptune’s outer moons and therefore irregular since I have a heavily-inclined prograde orbit of 37.874 degrees. So yes, I’m also a captured Kuiper Belt object.”

Nearly everyone’s jaws dropped in bewilderment.

“You were an asteroid??” Deimos gasped.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Basically most non-spherical moons of the Solar System are irregular, so they were probably captured from elsewhere in the heliosphere—primarily the Belts — ”

“Hold on,” the saturated ice giant cut her off, genuinely concerned. “You told me none of you guys remembered how you were born.”

“That was a lie,” Despina revealed. “We—we’re so sorry, Neptune. We did it ‘cause we—we didn’t wanna worry you. Even though us regular moons were asleep when Triton was captured, Deia told us what happened.”

“She’s right. We collectively agreed not to bring it up again, so…we acted like we forgot about it—but we didn’t,” Psamathe supplied sadly, shuddering at the memory of her planet’s heart-wrenching screams and sobs when his original satellites were destroyed.

Her siblings cried as well. But that’s when Neptune’s demeanor began to change gradually as he distanced himself from the other planets (Uranus especially), which definitely explained his current persona. It also made sense why his smaller moons put up a childlike front, so they could avoid reliving their trauma which ironically forced them to grow up pretty fast.

And speaking of which…

“Are…are we asteroids, Mars?” Phobos asked as both twins turned to their host planet. “Deimos said we are, so…”

Ares was reluctant to answer, but he knew he would have to come clean himself eventually.

But for now: “It’s—highly unlikely guys, ‘cause you’re pretty much made of the exact same stuff as me. Like Laomedeia said, you two have low-inclined prograde orbits near my equatorial plane.”

“Wait…d-does that mean we’re—we’re fragments of one of your previous moons??” the older twin exclaimed fearfully.

Mars was internally panicking at this point. “I…w-well um…”

Mercury came forward, frowning apprehensively. “Mars—I think you should tell them.”

Again, the red terrestrial hesitated. “I…I dunno — ”

“Mars, it’s gonna come out sooner or later,” the smallest planet reminded him. “Might as well tell them now.”

“Tell us what?!” Phobos snapped, growing impatient. “What did you do?!”

“Hey, don’t yell at him!” Deimos said defensively. “It’s not his fault there was a collision 2.7 billion years ago from the Asteroid Belt which shattered our sister’s body and split into fragments that formed us!”

As soon as the words spilled out, he quickly covered his mouth, eyes bulging out of his sockets.

“Uh…” the 12-kilometer Martian satellite stumbled on his words.

Phobos recoiled in shock. “Wait, you…you knew about this?”

Deimos gulped anxiously. “W-Well I uh…”

“So all this time, you lied to me? For how long?” his older twin demanded, but Phobos didn’t receive an answer right away, which aggravated him. “Deimos! How long did you know about this?!”

His little brother was too scared to speak, and so Mars chimed in. “Phobos—it’s not his fault. I’m the one who told him to keep Nerio a secret.”

“WAIT WHAT??!!” the said moon shrieked.

Chapter Text

SAME DAY:

“W-What?? Why?” Phobos repeated at a normal volume, feeling even more betrayed.

Mars pursed his lips sadly. “I—well—Deimos overheard me talking about it with someone and…well, he couldn’t exactly unhear it, so…yeah, I convinced him not to tell anyone.”

“You could’ve told me,” his larger moon’s voice broke. “If you guys didn’t tell anyone else, it wouldn’t matter. But you should have told me.”

Deimos never felt so guilty in his life, and couldn’t bear to see his twin’s sorrowful expression, so he knew he had to say something—anything to ease his brother’s pain.

“Phobos, I…” The smaller moon bit his lip. “We are so sorry — ”

“Don’t,” his older twin cut him off. “Just…I can’t…” He took another deep breath. “I thought I could trust you two more than anything…but I guess I was wrong.”

“Then what can we do, bud? Please, we—we wanna make this right,” Mars pleaded.

The 22.5-kilometer moon slowly turned to him, face crumbling in anguish. “What else did you guys lie about? Or keep from me?”

Deimos’ lower lip wobbled, tears building in his eyes. “W-Well…at least 40 million years from now…y-you’re gonna reach Mars’ Roche limit and t-turn into a ring.”

Phobos was horrified. “I…I-I…what?”

“I…I’m so sorry bro! P-Please forgive us…!” the younger twin wept, tears escaping his eyelids. “I-It’s not Mars’ fault! W-We can’t stop it even if we w-wanted to!”

While Mars gently rubbed Deimos’ head consolingly, Phobos stared at them as the cyan ice giant stepped forward, his eyebrows and lips curved downward.

“Some—some of you know who Telluria is,” he began. “She was our sister too and um…well you all know I’m tilted about 98 degrees to the Sun’s equatorial plane, right?” Most of them nodded. “W-Well uh…about 4.5 billion years ago, I-I wanted to expand my orbit outward. But while doing that, I…”

Neptune frowned despondently, knowing exactly where this was going since he was the only other person (aside from the Uranian moons) who knew about it.

“Uranus…” he whispered.

“M-My gravity pulled her in and…she—she got destroyed as soon as she collided with my core.” Once again, tears cascaded down his face. “That’s when I realized I…I’m the one who killed her…even though it wasn’t—it wasn’t intentional.”

The smaller ice giant approached him and caressed his back gently, hoping to provide comfort to his distraught brother while he mirrored his expression (without tears).

Uranus sniffled, trying and failing to collect himself. “S-So if you’re gonna banish Jupiter then…might as well kick me out too, Sun. That’s fair enough, isn’t it?”

Sol was speechless while Saturn’s two confidantes hovered forward, eyeing Titan as they silently obtained his permission to allow the cat out of the bag, since he was unable to say it out loud without crying himself.

“We…Tethys and I know how Saturn’s first rings were formed,” she unravelled. “Iapetus and Titan do as well, since it has to do with—with Titan’s orbit.”

The said moon paled as the ringed giant’s jaw slacked. “Wait what? You do?”

“You—you remember Chrysalis and Themis, right?” Tethys asked delicately.

“C-Chrysalis and Themis…?” Yep, Saturn definitely remembered as his lips trembled violently.

Tethys nodded somberly. “The—the thing is um…200 million years ago—like Uranus, Titan wanted to explore his orbit more. So he moved outward and…s-since Themis was between Titan and Hyperion, while Chrysalis was between him and Iapetus…i-it was an accident but—Titan’s gravity pushed them inward and um…it was too late to pull them back.”

Saturn’s tears resumed for the millionth time today. “So they…th-they both died in m-my Roche limit?”

His fifth-largest moon mouthed ‘yes’ as he succumbed to his own tears.

“Saturn, I…I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what I’ve done. I-I know it wasn’t intentional, but…I-I can’t take it back and…I’m really really sorry.” Titan also started crying. “I—I understand if you all hate me. I—I already hate myself as it is. Hell, i-if you wanna banish me too, then go ahead. I—I deserve it.”

“Titan, I…I…” Saturn tried to find the right words, but they didn’t come out yet.

“If you cast him away, then do it to us as well,” Iapetus offered without hesitation, gesturing towards Tethys and Rhea. “We were also accomplices in terms of covering for Titan and pretending not to know about it. But you deserved to know the truth.”

Rhea winced regretfully. “I—I agree with Iapetus. We—we’re so sorry, Saturn. We wanted to tell you, but…the only reason we kept it a secret is because you were in so much pain already.”

“Wait—you kept this from us?” Dione exhaled firmly.

“Yes we did,” her fraternal sister gave in. “But we shouldn’t have.”

“Were we…awake when it happened?” Mimas asked unsettlingly.

“Your trauma was processed differently, so yes,” Rhea supplied. “Like Saturn, the rest of you forgot how Chrysalis and Themis died.”

Finally, Saturn spoke. “If it weren’t for the Grand Tack—perhaps I would have reacted differently, but…” He laughed sadly. “What right do I have to judge you, Titan? Since your mistake was precisely the same as Jupiter’s? And for the rest of you…I know exactly what you’re going through right now—and I am not angry with any of you.”

“I…w-what?” The densest atmospheric moon was taken aback. “H-How can you forgive us so easily?”

“Remember what Jupiter said? I too was an accomplice,” his host planet reminded him. “I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t.”

With that, the Saturnian System huddled together in a group hug, though Dione and Hyperion warned the others not to lie about anything like this ever again, to which the others agreed wholeheartedly.

Planet X closed his eyes and gradually shook his head. “What a disappointment. I expected better from you guys, especially my fellow ice giants.” He sighed loudly. “But then again, it does make sense—given Jupiter’s bad influence on you.”

Despina uncharacteristically glared at him. “I’d watch it if I were you…Nemesis,” she growled.

The navy blue ice giant scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Oh please. Don’t act like you don’t know!” she snapped back. “Tell the Sun how badly you hurt Sedna!”

“Wait—Sedna? The dwarf planet?” Jupiter asked in surprise.

“We—we haven’t seen her in while,” Earth hummed.

“Yeah. Isn’t her orbit like 11,000 years or something?” Mercury estimated.

“You’re right. Sedna will reach perihelion in 2076,” Laomedeia informed them.

“Everytime the four of us saw her…it wasn’t always, but there were times when she either had scars or bruises all over her body,” Despina lamented. “All those years, we believed her when she told us it was interstellar rocks that caused the damage.”

“Until 24 hours ago—when Sedna broke down and told us everything,” Rhea added sorrowfully. “She—she said she witnessed Planet X being ejected from the Solar System, which also affected her own orbit and sent her back to 937 AU, which is the furthest point between Sedna and the Sun, also known as aphelion.”

“We can bring Sedna here if you want. We have evidence,” Tethys tested casually, which was unlike his usual conscientious demeanor.

“Of what?” X scoffed.

Despina was normally a chill and easygoing moon, but this time she had to restrain herself from punching him in the face. “How ‘bout emotionally and verbally abusing her every time you two crossed paths?! And threatening her into not telling on you! And don’t forget how you stole the real Planet X’s identity!”

This accusation earned another round of shocked gasps and whispering among the crowd.

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it! Clearly she wanted attention—and I am the real Planet X!” he snarled.

“No you’re not,” Neptune’s third innermost moon stated, eerily calm. “And Sedna never wanted attention. Our beloved sister tried to take her own life twice because of you. She already suffered from depression as it is, but you just had to make things worse.”

“Oh yeah?” the midnight blue ice giant retorted. “Well if that’s true—which it isn’t—then what else did she say about me?”

“Oh ho!” Despina laughed humorlessly. “There were a lot of things. Where do we even start? Deia, would you like to do the honors?”

“Of course,” Laomedeia accepted as she directly faced her host star. “Sun, he’s not who he says he is. His actual name is Nemesis, and he disguised himself as Planet X. Not long ago, Nemesis made up a story that X was unable to return to the Solar System for billions of years…but that’s not true at all.”

Sol pressed his lips tightly. “Please elaborate.”

“The real Planet X could’ve returned whenever he wanted—but chose not to,” said the 42-kilometer moon. “He was the only extreme trans-Neptunian object (ETNO) who knew he could go back without anyone being able to detect him…yet he sacrificed his own orbit during the Grand Tack.”

“Bullshit! That never happened!” the opposition sneered.

“Planet X is our real brother, and you’re a fraud,” Laomedeia reminded him. “Even when the Sun wasn’t always aware of his own planets and moons being out of their orbits back then.”

“That’s…unfortunately true,” Sol admitted. “But I’m working on that!”

“My point is…according to Sedna, Nemesis spied on us for a long time,” she disclosed. “He was aware of almost everything that was happening, including the Moon Revolution. In his own words, he said that Earth deserved to be destroyed, and Nemesis would’ve found a way to finish the job himself if not for Ganymede and Europa’s ambition.”

The two Galilean moons turned to Earth and winced remorsefully, silently vowing to never pull a stunt like that ever again. Both knew they went too far, especially when Mars and Venus were attacked. And this was something they would regret for the rest of their lives.

“Yeah—turns out, it was Nemesis who sent the asteroid towards Earth that killed the dinosaurs 65 million years ago—on purpose,” Tethys blurted out, which caused more gasps and cries.

“He…” Earth teared up instantly. “He did what?”