Reincarnated As Poseidon

Not with fire, but with rifts—shimmering cracks of raw energy where divine blades clashed and the heavens themselves groaned from the strain. Where once the constellations had woven steady light, now their threads were torn, frayed into war banners of gods who no longer agreed on the order of creation.

Poseidon's absence was felt—like the weight of a storm just beyond the horizon. He had withdrawn, silent and unseen, leaving the battlefield of Olympus to the rest of the pantheon. Yet his shadow remained, unspoken but present, the reason this war had begun at all.

On one side, Zephyros, God of Sky and Judgment, commanded an army of stormborn. His wings spread across the clouds, each beat lashing thunder through the air. He had declared himself the arbiter of fate, demanding unity through iron decree. To him, Poseidon's resurgence had proven that leniency had no place among gods.

Opposing him stood Nymera, Goddess of Shadows, cloaked in dusk, her followers drawn from the forgotten corners of the world. She rejected Zephyros's tyranny, choosing instead to sow rebellion through chaos. To her, Poseidon's awakening was not a curse, but a sign that the old order was crumbling—and that a new, darker one could rise.

Between their armies, the neutral gods fractured further still. Seraphin, Goddess of Flame, stood alone, fire wreathing her like a crown, burning both armies that pressed too near. To her, neither law nor shadow was truth. Fire consumed, fire renewed. And she would let the world burn before she bent to either.

The clash began at dawn.

Storm legions hurled spears of lightning, their tips splitting into forks that seared through shadow-armored knights. Nymera's warriors dissolved into smoke, only to reform behind the enemy and plunge obsidian daggers into their ribs.

The sky was a theater of chaos—thunderbolts carved mountains of cloud into valleys, while shadows rewove them into cloaks of night. Seraphin stood between it all, a living pyre. Her flames didn't discriminate. They devoured thunder and shadow alike, her laughter echoing like the crack of burning wood.

"Both of you claim dominion," she roared, hurling a firestorm that split the sky in two, "yet neither of you has the strength to hold it!"

Zephyros dove through her fire, his spear of judgment blazing with starlight. "Then yield to me, flame, and I will cleanse this war before it consumes us all."

Nymera's voice rose from the darkness, velvet and venom. "Cleanse? You mean chain. You would bind every god, every mortal, to your precious law. And I will not kneel."

The battlefield answered her words. Shadow beasts rose from the torn cracks of the sky, wings like ash, fangs dripping venom. Lightning speared through them, bursting their bodies into plumes of ink, only for more to rise in their place.

Far below, the mortal world shuddered. Farmers in distant fields dropped their tools as thunder without clouds split their skies. Fishermen along the coast watched waves rise higher than any tide should allow. Priests in temples chanted, their voices breaking as fire rained from the heavens, scorching even the sea's spray.

The people did not know the names of their gods' quarrels. They only knew that heaven itself was at war, and that mortals would drown beneath its fallout.

As the battle raged, smaller alliances began to crumble.

A war-god allied to Zephyros struck down one of Seraphin's flameborn lieutenants in "error." In answer, Seraphin incinerated the war-god with a single gesture, his armor melting into molten rivers. His legion faltered, their loyalty shaken, their faith in Zephyros fractured.

Nymera seized the moment. Her shadows slithered into the gaps, whispering promises of freedom, of unchained power. Some stormborn faltered. Some turned. And for every defection, Zephyros's fury grew.

"You think yourself clever, shadow," Zephyros thundered, lightning flashing from his veins. "But your rebellion is nothing more than cowardice painted black."

Nymera's laughter echoed across the battlefield. "And your law is nothing but fear painted gold."

The gods clashed in earnest then—Zephyros's spear and Nymera's twin daggers colliding in bursts of light and dark so violent that Olympus itself tilted. Stars fell from the sky like embers, raining across the mortal realms as omens.

And Seraphin? She watched them both. Her flames curled higher, feeding on the destruction, growing brighter as Olympus burned.

At last, she whispered to herself, "If Poseidon does not rise to claim the sea, then I shall claim the fire that consumes the heavens."

She raised both arms, and her firestorm became a sun, expanding outward in waves. Both Zephyros and Nymera faltered, shadows seared, lightning dimmed, as her flame spread across the battlefield unchecked.

Gods screamed. Armies scattered. Even the fabric of Olympus warped, marble spires glowing red as they melted under her heat.

And Seraphin laughed.

Far on the edge of the battlefield, not all gods chose to fight. Some simply watched.

Aegirion, young god of tides, leaned on his trident, his gaze fixed not on the war, but on the horizon where he felt Poseidon's silent pull. "They tear each other apart," he murmured. "And when the sea returns, none of them will stand ready."

Beside him, a goddess of fate shook her head. "Perhaps that is what Poseidon wants. To let them fracture, so the tide may sweep them all."

Aegirion said nothing. But deep in his heart, he feared it was true.

By nightfall, Olympus was scarred. Towers of cloud and marble lay shattered, armies scattered, rivers of divine blood running into the mortal skies below like red rain.

Zephyros held the skies, though barely. Nymera's shadows lingered, though thinner. And Seraphin… she burned brighter than ever, her firestorm unquenched.

There was no victor.

Only ruin.

And in the silence after battle, the absent name weighed heavier than all their wounds.

Poseidon.

Though he had not lifted a hand, his shadow had dictated every strike.

The gods of Olympus had gone to war with each other.

And when Poseidon returned, he would find only ashes to claim.