Reincarnated As Poseidon

Aegirion, battered but unbroken, forced himself to his knees. His trident wavered in his grip, but his gaze held. "You've drowned one city already. Do you mean to unmake the entire mortal coast?"

Poseidon tilted his head, faint amusement playing across his expression. "I do not unmake. I restore. What mortals call ruin is only reclamation. What is land but stolen sea?"

Seraphin, coughing flames into the salt air, staggered upright. Her wings of living fire flickered, dimmed by the humidity pressing against her. "You call this restoration? This is slaughter, Poseidon. Nothing survives in your tides—"

"Wrong," Poseidon cut in. "Everything survives. In me."

He stepped forward. The sea followed like a cloak. The battlefield groaned as the tide shifted, dragging ships, stones, and even chunks of collapsed temple deeper inland. Mortals clinging to the cliffs above screamed as houses cracked and slid into the rising flood.

---

The Clash Resumes

The third god—Kaelith, lord of the sky's vault—dragged himself from the rubble. His spear, forged from the spine of a fallen star, gleamed faintly as he leveled it toward Poseidon. Lightning arced across his broken form.

"You do not belong here," Kaelith snarled, his voice a rasp. "You belong in the Rift. Where you were cast."

Poseidon raised his trident. The air thickened with the sound of crushing waves. "Cast me away, yet here I stand. Do you not see? Even the Rift could not hold me. What prison do you imagine yourselves capable of building?"

He thrust his trident forward.

The sea obeyed.

A wall of water taller than any mountain roared into existence, curling forward like the jaw of a leviathan. Kaelith roared back, summoning lightning that tore the heavens open. Bolts lashed against the tidal wave, splitting it into a thousand luminous fragments—yet none dispersed. The fragments became serpents of water, each one lunging with fanged maws of foam.

Seraphin answered with fire, hurling orbs of molten brilliance. Each exploded within the tide, boiling away torrents into steam. But for every drop evaporated, two more surged forth.

Aegirion charged through the chaos, his trident colliding with Poseidon's in a thunderous crash that shook the very seabed. The impact birthed a crater in the water itself, the sea bowing away in reverence as divine will met divine will.

"Poseidon!" Aegirion snarled, veins bulging as his weapon strained against the god of the sea's raw might. "You're not fighting mortals anymore. These are gods. You cannot consume us all!"

Poseidon leaned forward, eyes glowing like abyssal lanterns. His voice was a whisper of drowning tides.

"Watch me."

On the cliffs above, survivors of the drowned city watched in horrified awe. The battle between gods had torn their harbor to pieces. Each clash sent shockwaves through the water, collapsing cliff faces and ripping fissures into the earth.

Children clung to their parents as waves taller than towers crashed below. Priests of the Seven Currents dropped to their knees, their prayers shattered by the realization that the sea did not listen to them—it listened only to him.

"The drowned god…" one whispered, voice breaking. "He isn't a story. He's here. He's walking again."

And below, Poseidon's trident carved arcs of impossible power.

Kaelith hurled his spear, lightning splitting into seven streaks that tore the sky into pieces. Poseidon caught it mid-flight, water spiraling around his hand to extinguish its brilliance. He spun, hurling the weapon back—not at Kaelith, but at Seraphin.

She cried out as it struck her shoulder, fire sputtering out in a burst of embers. She plummeted toward the waves, only for Poseidon to catch her with a single gesture. A hand of water rose from the ocean, holding her aloft like an offering.

"Fire drowns easily," Poseidon murmured. "You burn bright, but your ashes always sink."

With a flick of his fingers, the hand of water clenched. Seraphin screamed as her flames extinguished, her form dragged beneath the surface.

"NO!" Aegirion roared, breaking from the clash to dive after her. He ripped the sea apart with his trident, forcing the water to yield. But Poseidon's hold was stronger. For every channel Aegirion carved, two more closed.

Kaelith unleashed another storm of lightning, his desperation boiling into fury. Bolts hammered Poseidon's chest, searing the air. For the first time, the sea god staggered—steam rising from his skin where divine lightning bit deep.

But instead of anger, Poseidon smiled.

"Good," he whispered. "At least you fight like gods."

He drove his trident into the earth.

The ocean responded.

From the depths, shapes rose—vast, shadowy forms with eyes that burned like suns buried under miles of pressure. Ancient leviathans, forgotten since the dawn of time, surged upward. Their roars were not sound but pressure, crushing bones, rupturing stone.

The gods faltered. Even Kaelith's lightning dimmed as the first leviathan breached, its body blotting out the moon. Seraphin, barely clinging to life, screamed in despair as she beheld the creatures Poseidon now commanded.

"These are not your pets," Kaelith spat, horror edging his fury. "They were sealed!"

Poseidon's laughter shook the seas.

"Seals? Locks? Prisons? You built them with my power. You thought I would not remember how to open them?"

He raised his arms, and the leviathans obeyed.

One lashed a tail across the battlefield, shattering mountainside. Another opened its maw, swallowing wrecked ships whole. Mortals on the cliffs wailed as the truth became undeniable—Poseidon was not merely a god of seas. He was the abyss itself, and he had come home.

Aegirion managed to drag Seraphin to shore, her body limp and smoldering, her fire almost extinguished. His eyes burned with grief and rage as he turned back toward Poseidon.

"Then it's true," he growled. "You're not here to reclaim the sea. You're here to erase us all."

Poseidon's gaze lingered on him, almost pitying.

"No," he said softly. "I am here to erase what you built. The sea does not forget. And neither do I."

Kaelith screamed defiance, summoning one last storm, lightning brighter than the sun. It struck Poseidon full-force, searing his flesh, rattling his bones. The trident trembled in his grip.

But Poseidon did not fall.

He stepped forward, through the lightning, through the storm, through the fury of a god who once believed himself supreme. And when he reached Kaelith, he placed one hand on the sky god's chest.

The sea surged through that touch.

Kaelith's eyes widened as his lightning sputtered. His scream choked as saltwater filled his lungs, drowning him from within. His body convulsed, light dimming. With one last gasp, his form crumpled, collapsing into the tide.

Silence followed.

Only Poseidon stood unbroken, his chest scorched, his flesh torn, but his eyes blazing brighter than ever.

He turned toward the cliffs, toward the mortals watching, toward Olympus above where gods surely watched as well.

"Send more," Poseidon roared, his voice crashing across land and sea alike. "Send every god you have. Send your armies, your champions, your kings. I am the tide. I am the abyss. And I will not bow."

The waves thundered in answer.

The depths remembered.