From the moment he took his first breath beneath the storm-filled skies of Crete, Zeus was different. While his siblings were devoured, burned, and shaped by suffering inside Cronus's acidic prison, Zeus was nurtured in light and freedom. He was protected and trained from birth by divine spirits and sacred beasts. Raised on ambrosia and divine milk from Amalthea, surrounded by the mystical chants of the Kouretes, his body matured fast, and so did his strength.
By the time he was a child, his divine aura was already immense. By the time he was a youth, he had the power to challenge elite gods and titans head-on. Not only did he possess natural authority, but he was also born with raw divine power, enough to match and perhaps even surpass those who had endured far more than he ever would.
He was a High-Level God at birth, a rarity among divine beings.
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But that ease of power, that lack of true struggle, carved something different into Zeus's soul.
Where Hades forged patience and cunning in agony, where Poseidon developed steadiness through restraint, Zeus was raised in freedom with strength handed to him, not earned drop by drop.
As a result, he grew up with a sharp edge of arrogance. He believed himself not just strong but destined to be king, not because he worked for it, but because the world owed it to him.
He was bold, charismatic, and commanding. But also impulsive, lustful, and recklessly driven by ego as much as ambition.
Women were drawn to him, and he did not resist. Mortals, nymphs, even goddesses—he saw them not as equals, but as conquests.
And yet… fate still chose him to be the final piece. The one hidden from Cronus. The one who would strike the blow that began the downfall.
But fate was not always just, and power was not always pure.
As the storm-god grew, so did his desires—for control, for love, for recognition.
And while his strength was undeniable… It remained to be seen whether his heart could ever match the depth of those who came before him.
Zeus, in his youthful pride and unmatched power, strode through the divine realms as though he already ruled them.
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On the beach of the island of Crete.
Clank!
Two spears clashed and sparks flew out. Zeus and the Kouretes were battling. As both spears engaged, Zeus kicked a Kouretes warrior. The Kouretes shielded themselves, but due to inertia, they fell backwards.
Then two more Kouretes charged Zeus at the same time. Zeus did not panic; he simply raised his hand. From his palm, an electric bolt propelled out and shot down both of them.
Both Kouretes fell down, groaning in pain. Then Amalthea, who was standing in the corner watching their battle, clapped and praised Zeus. "Wow! Prince, you are quite strong. You alone defeated them all."
Then she walked toward Zeus and wiped his sweat with a towel. Suddenly, Zeus put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer, looking at her. "I am hungry, Amalthea."
Amalthea simply blushed, then said, "Please come inside, Lord Zeus."
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The day ended and night rose. In the bed, Zeus stared at the flickering flames while lying down. Beside him, Amalthea, while covering herself, noticed Zeus's silence. "Lord Zeus, what are you thinking?"
Zeus sighed and said, "I am bored, Amalthea, and frustrated with this prison."
Amalthea tilted her head and looked at Zeus while putting on her clothes. "What prison? Here you have everything: a good castle, luxurious food, drinks, and beauty."
"Freedom. I don't have freedom here. I can't use my spells on a wide scale, I can't even have privacy, I can't go to the outside world, and there are too many restrictions." Zeus looked out the window. "I want to go outside and explore things and experience how others live."
Amalthea came near him and said, "But if you go outside, it will break the protection field made by her majesty. And also, the outer world is quite cruel and filthy; everyone is after other people's accomplishments."
Zeus scoffed. "Huh… only the weak fear this type of danger. I want to go outside to see what my future subjects are like—or if they are even qualified to serve me."
Amalthea asked, "Then what about friends and allies?"
He scoffed again. "Only the weak need allies; the strong take what they like alone. As for friends, no one is equal to me to hold the position of friend."
"Lo—" As Amalthea was about to say something, Zeus interrupted her and glared at her in annoyance. "Enough! Tomorrow, I will go outside. That's final."
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The next day,
As Zeus was about to leave, Amalthea came forward and stopped him. "What happened, Amalthea?"
Amalthea took out a pouch of potions and said, "Lord Zeus, take this with you. These are high-recovery potions."
"I don't need them."
Amalthea's head was down, then she said in a low voice, "This is from your majesty. Please, take this with you; it may help you in some way."
As her mother's name came up, this time he did not reject it and took it.
Driven by this arrogance, he began wandering the world in secret, testing his strength, seeking titans and gods alike not to learn, but to conquer.
One moonlit night, high in the starlit heavens, Zeus came across one of the four Cardinal Titans: the silent and calculating Crius, Titan of Constellations and the Axis of the Cosmos.
To Zeus, he was merely another obstacle in his destined path to rule.
Without hesitation or formality, Zeus stood tall and called out.
"You there! Titan! I am Zeus, god of thunder! I challenge you!"
Crius, seated on the ridge of the celestial void, turned his head slightly, his face expressionless. A deep sigh echoed across the stars.
"Another hot-blooded godling…," he muttered.
He didn't even rise from his seat.
Instead, he casually reached out toward the night sky and created a small star with his divine energy, as if plucking a star—a burning celestial body—and, without a word, hurled it toward Zeus like one swats a fly.
"You're a nuisance."
Then, without waiting to see the result, Crius vanished, leaving the heavens still and silent once more.
But for Zeus, the danger had only begun.
As the blazing star roared through the sky, its tail igniting the clouds, Zeus's senses screamed danger. Far more powerful than he had anticipated, it carried the weight of cosmic destruction.
Acting on instinct, he summoned lightning, wrapping it around his body as divine armour, golden arcs of power sparking like a raging storm.
With a roar, he forged a lightning spear, hurling it with all his strength.
The spear shot forward, colliding with the star in a thunderous explosion of light.
But the star was stronger.
The force shattered his spear and smashed through the thunder-armour, striking Zeus and sending him hurtling down from the skies like a falling meteor.
His body was torn and scorched; golden ichor dripped from open wounds. He quickly drank one of the high potions. If not for his swift reaction and the potion, if he had hesitated even for a moment, he knew he would have been bedridden for years, perhaps even crippled.
He lay on the cracked earth, breathing heavily; a strange silence settled over him. The sky above twinkled gently, as if mocking him. He clenched his fist, feeling the dull pain surge through his muscles.
"I lost…?" "No...I was never ready to begin with."
This wasn't just defeat; it was a lesson. A lesson crafted by fate, one he could not ignore. From that moment on, something changed in Zeus.
In the cracked earth and his own split ichor, the first seed of doubt took root. It wasn't enough to temper it, but it was enough to force a question that he had never asked before: "What if I am not enough?"
For the first time, he thought about allies. His arrogance didn't vanish, but it tempered. He had tasted true power, and with it, he understood something vital.
Strength alone was not enough. Even the stars burned hotter than thunder.
Fate had thrown its first strike. And Zeus had survived.
Now… He would grow. Not just into a god of thunder, but into a king.