The skies above Mount Olympus were unnaturally restless. Clouds twisted in spirals of silver and storm, as if the heavens themselves knew something ancient had stirred. The marble pillars of the gods' great hall rose into the sky like unyielding spears, gleaming under the light of a sun that could not break through the brewing tempest.
Inside, the air was thick with voices. Gods, lesser deities, and messengers crowded into the council chamber, their faces marked by unease. Rarely did Olympus call such a sudden assembly, but the truth was clear to all who had heard the whispers from the mortal realm.
Something had awakened beneath the seas. Something that had been buried for millennia.
At the center of the golden chamber sat Zeus, king of Olympus, his thunderous gaze commanding silence. The lightning in his eyes flickered like a storm barely restrained. His hand rested on the pommel of his staff, the crackling aura around it a warning to any who dared challenge him.
