Chapter 132: Olympus plot against poseidon 5
The sky above Olympus trembled.
Not with thunder, not with the crackle of Zeus’s temper, but with something far older. A ripple spread across the very heavens, as if the fabric of the divine realm had flinched. Every god, from the lesser deities who tended orchards to the great Olympians themselves, felt it ripple through their bones.
Something had awakened in the sea.
Athena was the first to stride into the marble-pillared hall of Olympus, her bronze armor gleaming with each purposeful step. The council chamber was circular, crowned by a domed ceiling painted with constellations that now seemed to shudder.
Her grey eyes narrowed. "That was no storm. Something ancient stirs within the ocean."
A gust of wind swept through as Hermes appeared, his caduceus in hand, wings at his heels fluttering. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with unease. "You’re right. I just came from the Ionian coast. Fishermen swore the sea tried to swallow their villages whole. They spoke the name... Thalorin."
The chamber darkened at that word.
A distant rumble echoed, and the torches lining the hall flared higher, shadows stretching unnaturally long. Then, a thunderclap announced the arrival of Zeus himself. He descended in a blaze of lightning, his beard wild, his eyes glowing with fury and caution.
"Summon them all," he commanded. "Every Olympian. Every seat filled."
---
Minutes later, the council convened. Hera swept in draped in peacock feathers, regal and cold. Apollo’s golden radiance dimmed for once, as he sensed an imbalance in the cosmic harmony. Artemis stood rigid, her bow slung across her back, every muscle taut like a hunting hound. Dionysus, though usually drunk on his own revelries, had sobered completely. Even Hades emerged from the underworld, his cloak trailing wisps of shadow, though he rarely deigned to answer his brother’s summons.
At the center of the chamber blazed a pool of divine light — a scrying mirror conjured by Hestia, hearth goddess, whose flame always revealed truth. The waters within it shimmered, showing the seas writhing in unnatural currents. Beneath those depths, Poseidon’s domain boiled, as though rejecting the one who claimed mastery.
"It is him," Hades said, his voice like gravel breaking the silence. "I have felt the shift in souls. The dead whisper his name again — Thalorin. The Abyssal One. I thought him destroyed before time was even counted."
"Destroyed?" Athena scoffed, crossing her arms. "You don’t destroy beings like Thalorin. You only bury them deep enough and pray they never claw free."
Zeus slammed his thunderbolt against the marble, sparks cascading like meteors. "And yet, now he walks again. Not in his own form... but in Poseidon’s. Tell me, brother." His gaze flicked toward the scrying water, his tone heavy with accusation. "What game do you play at, hiding behind that guise?"
But no answer came, only the echo of waves crashing in the vision.
---
"Poseidon is no longer himself," Apollo said grimly, his golden lyre dim in his hand. "I see two currents in him — the god we know, and a darker one, pulling him deeper. If we do nothing, the sea will belong to Thalorin, not Olympus."
Hermes whistled low. "So what do we do, mighty council? Go marching into the ocean with our togas and shiny weapons? If the mortals whisper his name again, it means he’s already planting roots. Strike too soon, and we risk waking him fully."
"Strike too late," Artemis countered, "and no hunt in the world will save us. The tides will drown both mortal and divine."
Hera’s eyes glittered with calculation. "We should not be hasty. Perhaps the boy is merely a vessel. Perhaps Thalorin can be separated. Better to use him than destroy him outright."
The word "boy" hung in the air. Not god. Not ruler of seas. Boy. They knew Poseidon was not what he once was.
Hades, however, shook his head. "You are fools if you think he can be contained. Thalorin is no beast to leash. He is hunger itself." His voice deepened, a cold echo filling the chamber. "He will devour until nothing remains. If he has bonded to Poseidon’s essence, then the boy is already lost."
That brought silence. Even Zeus faltered.
---
Finally, Athena broke it. "Then we must decide now. Do we end him before Thalorin takes full hold? Or do we risk waiting, gambling with Olympus itself?"
The council erupted. Dionysus muttered that perhaps this was fate’s wine, meant to intoxicate them into ruin. Ares slammed his spear down, eager to draw blood, calling for war against the sea. Apollo and Artemis argued balance, while Hera whispered strategies of manipulation.
Through it all, Zeus’s jaw tightened. Lightning gathered in his fist until the very dome quaked. "Enough." His voice shook the chamber, silencing gods and goddesses alike. "We cannot allow another Titanomachy. We cannot allow another Primordial to rise." His eyes narrowed, thunder crackling across his beard. "We will act."
"By killing him?" Athena pressed.
Zeus hesitated. For all his pride, Poseidon was still his brother. And yet... the danger outweighed sentiment.
"We will test him first," Zeus declared at last. "If there remains a shred of Poseidon, he must prove it. If not..." The thunderbolt flared. "...we end him."
---
In the corner of the chamber, Hestia’s flame flickered violently, the scrying pool shifting again. A vision rippled across its surface.
Poseidon — no, the boy wearing Poseidon’s mantle — stood upon a storm-lashed rock. His trident glowed, yet behind him, a colossal shadow loomed in the waves, its form shifting like a nightmare half-remembered. Tentacles, eyes, and abyssal teeth, all wrapped in the guise of darkness.
And then, a voice seeped from the pool, though no lips moved within it.
"You cannot stop the tide."
The chamber froze. It was not the boy’s voice. It was something far deeper. The sound of drowned screams, of ancient abysses yawning open.
Hera shivered. Even Zeus paled.
"Then it is true," Hades murmured. "Thalorin stirs... and he has chosen his vessel."
The council sat in silence, each god realizing the scale of the threat. This was no mere rebellion. This was a war older than Olympus itself.
And in the stillness that followed, only Athena found her voice.
"We have but one choice," she said. "Prepare for battle. Whether against Poseidon... or against the abyss wearing his skin."
Zeus’s thunderbolt flared in grim agreement.
---
Far below Olympus, in the mortal seas, Poseidon’s eyes opened — glowing not with calm ocean blue, but with the abyssal green of something far more ancient.
And he smiled.