Chapter 131: Olympus plot against poseidon 4
The golden halls of Olympus shimmered as twilight bled across the skies, casting the palace of the gods in hues of amber and violet. The thrones of the Twelve stood arranged in a crescent, looming above the marble dais where lesser divinities and messengers shuffled nervously. Today, the atmosphere was different—thick, heavy, charged with dread that even immortals could not ignore.
Zeus, the thunder-wielding king of Olympus, sat rigidly upon his throne, knuckles white as he clenched the armrest. His golden eyes burned with suspicion, though beneath his commanding aura lay something far more dangerous—fear.
"Poseidon..." Zeus muttered at last, breaking the silence. His voice rolled like distant thunder. "The oceans have awakened. My spies report storms that tear across the Mediterranean without cause. The tides themselves roar his name. Tell me, brothers and sisters... what does this mean?"
A hush fell. Gods exchanged wary glances, though none dared speak first. It was Hera, ever the queen, who rose gracefully, her robes flowing like a river of starlight. Her eyes narrowed with calculation.
"It means, my husband," Hera said, her voice cool but sharp, "that what we buried long ago refuses to stay buried. Poseidon was thought gone, his essence dissolved into the sea itself. Yet now, he breathes again. Whether by chance or by some darker power’s design, the sea god has returned."
The name alone sent ripples through the chamber. Poseidon—the tempest lord, brother to Zeus and Hades, ruler of the oceans. Yet the Poseidon they remembered was not the one who now stirred beneath the waves.
Athena leaned forward, her grey eyes glowing with intellect and unease. "No ordinary return. My scouts whisper that it is not merely Poseidon, but something greater entwined with him. The mortals speak of storms walking in the shape of a man. His aura is unstable, ancient, as though he carries with him not just the god we once knew... but something older."
At that, murmurs broke out. The word many of them feared hung unspoken in the air—Thalorin.
Apollo, lounging with his usual charm though tension hardened his smile, tapped his lyre. "Shall we truly dance around it? The seas sing not just of Poseidon, but of a presence that predates even us Olympians. This... Thalorin. The water entity that nearly broke creation when the world was still molten. If it has chosen Poseidon as vessel—or worse, fused with him—then he is no longer merely our brother. He is something else entirely."
The chamber darkened as if the sky itself listened.
"Blasphemy," Ares growled, his hand already on the hilt of his blade. His bronze armor glinted as he leaned forward, warlike eyes flashing. "Whatever this abomination is, it matters little. We are gods. If Poseidon is tainted, we strike him down. Sever him from Olympus before he turns his power upon us."
"You fool," Athena snapped, her patience with the war god thin as ever. "You think steel and brute strength will end him? If Thalorin has awakened within him, Poseidon may wield the full depth of the seas, both divine and primordial. Your sword would sink like a pebble."
"Better to drown fighting," Ares shot back, "than cower in fear like philosophers."
The clash of their voices echoed until Zeus raised a single hand, and silence thundered louder than words. His gaze turned to Hermes, who had been shifting uneasily at the edge of the council.
"You," Zeus commanded. "You who dart between mortal lands. Tell us. What do the humans know?"
Hermes straightened, fiddling with the caduceus in his hand. "Whispers, Father. Sailors tell tales of a man walking from the surf with storms in his wake. Coastal villages speak of eyes like fathomless depths, of waves obeying his command. They call him Poseidon reborn. Some... worship already."
The weight of those last words drew frowns from the Olympians. Worship. To the gods, belief was power, and if mortals turned their prayers once more to Poseidon, his strength would surge beyond measure.
Hades, who rarely graced Olympus but had been summoned for this council, finally stirred from his silent corner. His presence chilled the room, shadows trailing his every word.
"This should not be," Hades said coldly. "The boy Dominic was meant for death. I saw his soul pass into my realm. Yet something snatched it away before it reached the Styx. A mortal soul stolen from my dominion... and returned fused with the essence of Poseidon. If Thalorin is involved, then we are not speaking of resurrection, but of usurpation."
His words sent a shiver through even the mightiest gods. For if the Underworld itself had been denied, then forces greater than Olympus were at work.
Artemis frowned, her silver bow across her lap. "What if Poseidon himself struggles against this? What if he is not our enemy, but a vessel against his will? Would we still strike him down?"
"Naïve," Hera interjected sharply. "Will you show mercy when Olympus burns beneath tidal waves? Whether vessel or master, the result is the same—he is a threat."
Hephaestus, voice deep and steady like molten earth, rumbled, "Threats can be bound. Chains forged in the heart of Tartarus, strong enough to shackle even a god. I can fashion such bonds. But we would need him weakened first."
The debate spiraled—some crying for war, others for caution, still more uncertain whether to treat Poseidon as brother or stranger. And through it all, Zeus sat unmoving, his storm-laden eyes distant, calculating.
At last, he rose, and lightning crackled through the chamber.
"Enough!" His voice shook the very pillars. "This council bickers while the sea stirs. Hear me well. Whether Poseidon or Thalorin or something in between, we cannot allow his return unchecked. If he grows, he could rival even me." His pride laced every word, but so too did raw dread. "I will not permit it."
"What do you command?" Hera asked, her lips curling faintly.
Zeus raised his scepter, the master bolt gleaming with divine wrath. "Summon every eye, every ear. Watch the oceans. When Poseidon shows himself, we move. Not as squabbling rivals, but as one pantheon. If he can be reasoned with, we shall attempt it once. But if he defies us..." His gaze swept over his siblings and children, leaving no doubt of his intent. "Then Olympus shall unleash its full might upon him."
Silence fell. Some gods bowed their heads. Others smirked, eager for war. Yet all understood—the storm was not only at sea. It brewed here, among them.
Athena’s thoughts lingered longer than most. Her mind raced, weighing the dangers, the possibilities. Poseidon reborn... or something far worse. If Dominic truly carries both god and primordial... then perhaps even Olympus is not enough to contain him.
And somewhere far below, beyond marble halls and divine thrones, the oceans surged with laughter that was not entirely Poseidon’s... nor entirely Thalorin’s.
The game had begun.