Above the clouds, past the mountain peaks that pierced the heavens, stood the mighty Mount Olympus—resplendent in its glory, veiled in golden mist, and humming with divine energy.
But on this day, the splendor of Olympus was not comforting.
It was shaken.
In a grand hall, where all divine eyes watched the affairs of the mortal realm through the Mirror of Skies, a scene had just played out.
One that silenced even the most ancient of gods.
A mortal had defied them all.
A mortal had stood against six divine spirits.
A mortal had died... like a king, with no chains, no fear, and no master.
And the halls of Olympus were reeling.
*
*
*
In her own room, Athena, goddess of wisdom and war strategy, had watched it all with bated breath.
And then, in a rare moment unbecoming of her composed nature—
She squealed.
Not the reserved hum of approval a goddess might show after a well-fought war.
Not the cold satisfaction of a plan coming to fruition.
