Chapter 257: Chapter 15
Overworld.
At that very moment, high above the clouds where thunder never ceased to hum and the sky itself seemed to bow in reverence, Zeus sat upon his throne, the Seat of Dominion that towered over the radiant halls of Olympus.
The storm that perpetually surrounded the peak rumbled softly, as if responding to the unease that emanated from its master.
His eyes, sharp and electric, were fixed upon the figure kneeling before him, Hermes, the swift-footed herald of the gods, his divinity glinting faintly in the light of divine fire that illuminated the chamber.
Zeus’s fingers drummed once on the armrest of his throne before his deep, commanding voice echoed throughout the grand hall, carrying with it the weight of divine authority and the crackle of distant lightning.
"Hermes," he began, his tone calm yet edged with gravity, "by my command, go forth and deliver my decree. Summon every god, every titan, and every divine being that still draws breath upon this earth. Tell them to gather in Olympus, for the threat that stirs beyond the stars is one that concerns us all."
Hermes lifted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with determination.
"As you will, Lord Zeus," he said firmly, his voice respectful but steady, for he too could sense the heaviness in the air, the quiet dread that lingered beneath the thunder.
With a single graceful motion, he pressed his hand to his chest, then stepped back.
In that instant, the divine wind swirled around him, and before another heartbeat could pass, the messenger of Olympus vanished, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of golden light and the whisper of wings.
Moments later, the heavens themselves trembled.
Across the overworld, the voice of Zeus, the Supreme Ruler of Olympus, resonated like rolling thunder that spanned mountains, oceans, and skies.
Every god, titan, and spirit felt it in their core, a divine calling that brooked no refusal.
Far to the east, the radiant Helios, who drove the Sun’s chariot across the sky, reined in his steeds mid-flight.
The brilliant fire of the sun dimmed momentarily as he gazed toward Olympus, his golden hair flowing in the solar wind.
He frowned, for he could sense from the tone of the summons that this was no ordinary council.
"It seems Zeus is anxious," he murmured, his eyes narrowing. "I wonder what this meeting is going to be about? He rarely is this serious."
With that, he urged his steeds onward, hastening toward Olympus, his chariot trailing fire across the clouds.
In a grand marble temple wreathed in starlight, Asterius, the god of constellations, looked up from the pool of reflected sky in which he mapped the fates of mortals and gods alike.
The constellations shifted and shimmered, forming the sigil of Zeus’s lightning bolt, and his expression immediately grew grim.
"A summons of all gods?" he whispered to himself, his hand tightening on the silver staff he carried. "Then the prophecy I foresaw draws near."
His celestial form dissolved into starlight, ascending toward Olympus in streaks of blue flame.
Deep within the shadowed mountains, hidden from mortal eyes, Hyperion, the ancient Titan of Heavenly Light, stood from his solitary meditation.
His bright eyes opened, burning with the brilliance of dawn as he gazed toward the distant heavens.
"Zeus... calling even us Titans?" he muttered, his voice both bitter and intrigued. "The heavens must be truly desperate."
What could make a man as arrogant as Zeus request the presence of their defeated enemy?
With a mere thought, his aura ignited like a newborn sun, and he too vanished in a burst of radiant light.
And it was not only them.
Across the world, the divine and the forgotten alike felt the pull of Olympus’s decree.
In sacred groves, in ancient shrines, in the hearts of mountains and the depths of the clouds, the gods stirred.
Winds changed course, seas trembled, and the firmament quaked as thousands of divine presences began to move toward the sacred mountain.
Meanwhile, far below, in the depths of the ocean, the mighty Poseidon sat upon his coral throne within the golden halls of his undersea palace.
His trident rested against his shoulder as his piercing blue eyes reflected the rolling currents outside.
The moment he felt the reverberation of his brother’s call, the sea around him churned restlessly.
Without hesitation, his voice boomed through the water, carried by the waves to every corner of the ocean realm.
"Gods of the sea, my kin and my children, heed my command!" His words rippled through the deep, shaking the coral reefs and awakening slumbering titans from their eternal rest. "Gather before me in the court of Atlantis! The world stands upon the brink of doom, and the threat that devours stars has turned its gaze upon our cosmos!"
In response, the deep abyss of the seas roared.
From the trenches rose ancient sea titans long unseen, Pontus the Primordial Sea, Nereus the Old Man of the Sea, the monstrous Ceto, and the vast Oceanus himself, whose domain encircled the world.
They, arrogant and lofty beings who would usually ignore Poseidon’s command, can sense the desperation in his voice.
They were curious, what could an arrogant man like him feel desperate for?
The waves swelled, the currents converged, and soon the ocean itself seemed to breathe as one, awaiting the command of their king.
Poseidon rose from his throne, gripping his trident tightly.
"Even the seas cannot hide from this fate," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he looked toward the surface. "Hades, I promise you an army of every living thing in the seas."
And as both sky and sea prepared for what was to come, the mortal world trembled, unaware that the gods themselves were gathering for war against something beyond the stars, something so vast and ancient that even eternity itself feared its hunger.
Deep within the endless shadows of the Underworld, where rivers of molten gold and obsidian light wove across a land untouched by time, Hades emerged from the veil of darkness, his imposing figure radiating a cold, divine authority that made even the spirits tremble.
Behind him, stretching endlessly across the jagged plains, stood the towering figures of the Giants, his ’long-imprisoned’ children, each one carrying the marks of Tartarus upon their colossal bodies, their eyes burning with both rage and anticipation.
Turning to face them, his expression unreadable beneath the faint glow of his crown of shadows, Hades spoke in a calm, resonant voice that carried through the air like the toll of a funeral bell.
"Tell me, my children," he asked, his eyes moving from Porphyrion to the others, "how does it feel to breathe freely again, after countless ages spent in the pit of Tartarus?"
Porphyrion, the mightiest among them, stepped forward with a grin that could shatter stone.
"It feels... lighter," he said, stretching his massive arms as chains of spectral light still flickered faintly upon them, remnants of their ancient bindings.
"The air here, though thick with the feeling of death and gloom, tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever known."
"Hahaha! So this is the realm ruled by the honored father! It feels like I’ve returned home!"
"I wonder if I can have a rematch with Athena. I want to see if she have grown stronger since the war!"
A deep rumble of laughter and murmurs of agreement rolled through the ranks of Giants.
Some spoke of vengeance, others of glory long denied, and a few, quieter than the rest, spoke only of the strange peace that came with standing once more under their father’s gaze.
Hades regarded them in silence for a long moment, his dark eyes reflecting both pride and sorrow.
Then, with a grave nod, he said, "Good. Remember that feeling, for the time ahead will test every breath you take. The world above will burn, as those beings beyond the cosmos seek to devour it. You must prepare yourselves, because the next battle that awaits us may well be our last."
At his words, the Giants grew solemn, their laughter fading into the heavy stillness of the Underworld.
At his reminder, anger and revenge burned in the eyes of the giants.
Those outer ones, they will pay for what they have done to them and their mother.
At this moment, standing behind their father Hades, they were no longer an army to punish the gods, but an army of vengeance.