I Am Zeus

The storm above Olympus didn't fade. It grew louder—alive with wings, roars, and power from realms that hadn't shared breath since the first dawn. The marble terraces shook under the weight of armies arriving through light and shadow.

The first to step through the rippling sky were the Giants. Each one towered like a moving mountain, their skin carved with runes glowing blue and crimson. Frost curled from their breath, fire from their veins. Skrymir, broad-shouldered and draped in furs, dragged an axe the size of a temple door.

He met Zeus's gaze, his voice deep as thunder. "We remember when your kind chained us. Now we stand beside you."

Zeus nodded. "Then let us make that history worth something."

The Giants grinned, their laughter rolling like an avalanche.

Behind them came the Titans. Ancient figures wreathed in the glow of stars long dead. Hyperion's golden armor reflected every flash of lightning. Theia walked beside him, her light soft but steady. Even Iapetus, the quiet one, had come, his eyes colder than the void between worlds.

And then—Rhea.

The sight made Zeus still. His mother's steps were slow, but the ground bloomed where she walked. Her hair moved like dusk, her gaze calm.

"My son," she said, her voice the sound of the earth breathing. "You've gathered the living and the damned under one sky."

"It's time they remembered what we fight for," Zeus said quietly.

She smiled faintly. "Then remember this too—when gods fight, the world trembles. Keep your hand steady."

He bowed his head once. "I will."

As Rhea moved aside, Hades approached to greet her, and the mountain continued to fill.

From the clouds came the roar of dragons—sleek, gold-scaled beasts from the Eastern realms. Their wings folded as they descended, bowing their long necks toward the summit. The Jade Emperor followed soon after, his court descending on radiant platforms of light.

From the north, the Valkyries swept in with their banners of red and silver. Freyja rode at their front, her armor catching the dawn. She caught sight of Athena and grinned. "Thought you'd have more flair for this sort of thing."

Athena smirked. "I prefer results to performances."

"That's what all strategists say until they lose."

"Good thing I don't."

Freyja laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. "Then don't start now."

In the distance, the sound of hooves announced another arrival. The demigods—sons and daughters of Olympus—marched up the slope. They weren't gods, not entirely, but the air bent around them just the same.

At the front walked Heracles, carrying a lion's pelt over one shoulder and a club carved from a Titan's spine. Jason and Perseus flanked him, their weapons drawn, faces solemn. Behind them came a younger figure—Aegion, a storm in human form. Lightning flickered under his skin like veins of silver.

He stopped before Zeus and dropped to one knee. "Father."

Zeus looked down, the faintest trace of pride in his eyes. "You shouldn't have come."

"I was born from your blood. If you march, I march."

"You will stay," Zeus said firmly.

Aegion blinked. "What?"

"The gods fight to protect creation. You are its future," Zeus said. "You and the others will remain. Protect the mortal world, its borders, its faith. If Olympus falls, you'll be what remains."

Heracles frowned. "We've fought beside you before. We can again."

"I don't doubt that," Zeus replied, his tone soft but unyielding. "But this war isn't meant for heroes. It's meant for endings. You protect the next beginning."

Aegion's fists tightened, but he bowed. "Then we'll guard the world until you return."

"If we return," Hades muttered from behind.

The younger ones pretended not to hear.

The sky brightened again, splitting into soft ribbons of light. From the east came the goddesses—each one radiating power in her own quiet way.

Metis was first, stepping forward in a cloak of silver threads, her eyes calm and calculating. "You called the world to you," she said, her tone measured. "That takes courage... or madness. Which is it this time?"

"Whichever gets the job done," Zeus answered, half a smile flickering.

Leto followed quietly, the faint glow of twilight around her. She stopped before Zeus and touched his chest lightly. "Bring our children home."

"I will," he promised.

"Good," she said. "Because if you don't, I'll come for you myself."

That earned a small smile from Artemis nearby.

Maia appeared next, her movements light as wind. "You've sent Hermes to run through Hell," she said. "If he doesn't come back, I'm haunting you."

"He'll come back," Zeus said with certainty. "He always does."

Mnemosyne's arrival felt like a sigh of wind through old halls. "Do not forget what this fight is for," she said softly. "Not power. Not pride. But memory—the right for mortals to dream of us."

"I'll remember," Zeus said.

Themis came after, her gaze firm, her balance unshaken. "You are breaking every law that binds heaven and earth," she said.

"I'll rebuild them when it's done," he answered simply.

Finally came Demeter, her robe a weave of gold and green. "Persephone goes with you," she said. "That was her choice. But if she doesn't return—"

"I'll bring her back," Zeus promised.

Demeter's expression softened. "Then may the earth remember mercy."

As the goddesses stepped back, Zeus exhaled. His gaze swept across the terraces, over the hundreds gathered: gods from every pantheon, dragons coiled on the edges, titans standing silent as statues, giants sharpening blades of stone, demigods preparing to defend the mortal plane.

The sound of the mountain had changed. It wasn't thunder now—it was breathing.

Nearby, Odin stood with Hades and Poseidon, speaking in low tones. "When this begins," Odin said, "there will be no boundaries left. The realms will bleed together."

"They already are," Poseidon replied, watching the ocean-colored horizon. "I can feel it in the tide. The water tastes wrong."

Hades adjusted his cloak. "It always tastes wrong when Hell's door is open."

Zeus approached them, his presence grounding the storm. "We move at dusk on the third day," he said. "Until then, strengthen the wards. I don't want their corruption touching this world."

Odin nodded. "And if it does?"

"Then you'll see why I carry the thunder," Zeus said simply.

The others didn't argue.

Across the terrace, Sun Wukong was already surrounded by a group of curious Valkyries, showing them how his staff changed shape with a grin that could have lit the clouds. Thor joined them moments later, laughing as sparks flew when he tried to lift it. "Too light," he said. "You should make a proper weapon."

"I did," Wukong shot back. "You just can't handle it."

Freyja rolled her eyes. "Children with hammers," she muttered.

Elsewhere, Persephone stood beside Artemis, looking out over the gathered armies. "Do you think we'll survive this?" she asked quietly.

Artemis didn't look away from the horizon. "Survival isn't the point," she said. "Making sure it means something—that's the point."

Persephone nodded once. "Then let it mean everything."

As the sun climbed higher, the mountain gleamed like a beacon in the storm. The armies of heaven, earth, and shadow stood ready.

Zeus walked to the center of it all, feeling the pulse of the world through the stone beneath his feet. Every realm had answered his call. Every creature that could fight had come.

Not for glory. Not for vengeance.

For existence.

He lifted his gaze toward the sky, his voice quiet but clear enough for those closest to hear. "When the fire comes," he said, "it will look for fear. Don't give it any."

Thunder rumbled in answer.

And far beyond the clouds, in the endless dark where Lucifer waited, the first echoes of Olympus reached Hell.