Mount Caucasus, summit.
As Samael, Atalanta, and Medusa arrived, Heracles had already torn apart the chains binding Prometheus. Together with his companion, the centaur Chiron, he helped the human prophet sit down to rest.
The Ancient Serpent found the scene rather amusing.
In Greek myth, it was Heracles who fulfilled humanity's duty by rescuing Prometheus, the human prophet and mentor, from his suffering atop Mount Caucasus. Back then, however, Zeus stood in his way, forcing the mighty hero to seek out Chiron, who had been struck by a poisoned arrow, to take Prometheus's place. Even so, to fully enforce Zeus's judgment, Prometheus was still required to wear an iron ring forever, set with a stone taken from Mount Caucasus.
That way, the King of the Gods could proudly proclaim that his enemy remained chained to the cliffs of Mount Caucasus, and that the authority of Olympus was not to be profaned.
Yet as Sisyphus once said, those who laugh at others sometimes end up becoming the joke themselves.
Now, it was Zeus's turn.
Just then, a sharp chirp echoed through the sky. The Caucasian eagle that had been circling above dove down and landed on Samael's outstretched arm, happily preening its feathers.
"You finally showed up. I'm sick to death of eating whatever I can find around here..."
The Caucasian prisoner, his face buried beneath a beard as wild as weeds and his skin roughened by years of wind and sun, spread his arms and slowly walked toward his old friend, complaining in jest.
The Ancient Serpent stepped forward and embraced him, giving Prometheus a firm pat on the back and laughing openly.
"Alright. Tell me what you want to eat. I'll cook it for you later. But first, there's business to attend to. The show on Olympus is waiting for you."
Hearing this, the prophet looked toward Mount Olympus, where the thunderclouds were finally beginning to disperse. The corners of his lips lifted in a pleased smile as he leaned close to Samael's ear, his tone light and teasing.
"Then let's go, my dear Lord of Opportunity, Prince Poros. Take me along to witness the curtain fall on Olympus."
The Ancient Serpent smiled and nodded. He drew in a deep breath, gently closed his eyes, and crossed his hands in front of him. Silver-gray divine light flickered at his fingertips before he brought his arms down with force.
As spatial authority pulsed into motion, a rift leading to Olympus took shape.
Just as Samael was about to lead the warriors of Areopagus toward Hera's temple, a furious roar erupted from behind them. The Sea of Oceanus churned and thundered, as if an invisible giant hand were trying to tear the sky apart, crushing what little divine authority Zeus had left.
Poseidon… you're far too impatient…
The Ancient Serpent narrowed his eyes and looked back toward the storm-shrouded Sea of Oceanus, murmuring under his breath.
Meanwhile, oceanic authority continued to gather at a terrifying rate. Towering waves piled higher and higher. Hundreds of meters… thousands of feet… rising without end.
Samael's expression darkened, his gaze turning grave.
Something was wrong. He did not remember Poseidon's power ever being this overwhelming…
...
Meanwhile, on Olympus, within Hera's temple.
Zeus's counterattacks grew weaker by the moment. His defeat was no longer in doubt.
With the throne seemingly within reach, Poseidon drove his trident down onto Zeus's shoulder, smashing him to one knee. Unable to contain himself, Poseidon poured more and more power into his dominion over the seas, looking down from above as he declared triumphantly,
"Zeus, you've sat on that throne long enough. Surrender. If you submit to me and acknowledge me as king, I'll pardon your crimes!"
"Hah. You want to usurp my throne? You think you're worthy? Even if I handed it to you, could you really hold it steady?"
Zeus sneered and turned his gaze toward Hera and Athena, his contempt for Poseidon only deepening.
"Then let's see whether I have what it takes to replace you!"
Humiliated and enraged, Poseidon's eyes burned red as he swung his trident like a madman. Aqua-blue light flared as the crushing weight of billions of tons of seawater slammed down again and again upon Zeus. Blood spilled from the God King's lips as his body sank deeper into the ground.
As though responding to the Sea God's fury, twelve pillars of light shot up from the storm-tossed ocean. They intertwined and merged, forming a chaotic torrent that spread and surged across the sky.
At the same time, the sea itself rose in heaving layers. Waves piled upon waves, dragging with them water that had turned almost pitch-black as it howled forward.
In an instant, islands scattered across the sea were swallowed one after another. Wherever the colossal waves passed, walls collapsed, houses crumbled, trees snapped, and even birds and beasts were wiped out, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake.
"You've lost your mind!"
Athena's cold shout rang out beside Poseidon.
The Sea God seemed to wake from a daze. As his authority resonated, he looked toward the Sea of Oceanus and saw the monstrous waves that had already swallowed dozens of islands, now surging toward the Greek mainland and its coastal city-states. His expression finally shifted.
If a tsunami of this scale reached land, the entire Peloponnesian Peninsula would be completely submerged.
Worse still, this was only the first wave.
If several more followed, Greece, scoured again and again by floodwaters, might see humanity wiped out entirely.
"Let go!"
Athena's eyes were icy, her voice sharp.
"No!" Poseidon snarled. "This is our best chance. We're only one step away from success!"
Gritting his teeth, he glared at the captive whose divine core was on the verge of being fully eroded and sealed. Instead of stopping, he pressed down even harder on Zeus, determined to make the results of this rebellion irreversible before the great flood reached land.
Clang!
Seeing Poseidon stubbornly persist, Athena did not hesitate. She swung her golden scepter of victory in a sweeping arc, striking aside the surging trident.
"You!"
The sudden betrayal by his ally caught Poseidon off guard, sending him stumbling backward. When he finally steadied himself, his fury exploded.
Yet Athena, despite having disrupted Poseidon's control over the sea, showed no sign of relief. Her expression grew even more tense.
Looking out toward the distant Sea of Oceanus, the Goddess of Wisdom realized that even without Poseidon or his trident driving them, the waves continued to stack higher and higher, their power not diminishing in the slightest.
That inexplicable sense of dread washed over her again and again, like relentless waves.
It was as if something horrific was about to rise from the deep.
At the sight, Athena's heart dropped. She immediately pulled back her Aegis Shield and hurried out of the temple.
"No, you can't leave!"
Poseidon, frantic and wild-eyed, scrambled to his feet. Even as he kept Zeus pinned, he tried to stop her, lowering himself to plead in a softened voice.
"Athena, have you forgotten your mother is still imprisoned inside Zeus? Have you forgotten the fear and humiliation Zeus put us through? This is our best chance—maybe our only chance!"
At the doorway, the Goddess of Wisdom slowed and glanced back with a cold smile.
"Idiot. If Greece gets wiped out by storm and tsunami, what's the point of taking the throne?
Besides, as long as I'm alive, if I can defeat Zeus once, I can defeat him a second time.
And right now, I'm busy. As for this boring game, I don't have time to keep playing along with you."
The moment Athena stepped out without hesitation, a silver streak cut across the air. It folded its wings and landed before the courtyard, snorting softly, docile. The sharp horn on its brow and its pure white wings made it unmistakable.
Pegasus.
You don't blame me, do you, Father…
Athena reached up, took the reins, and swung into the saddle. A knowing smile tugged at her lips, and the last trace of unease in her chest vanished.
"Poseidon, for the sake of our alliance, one last piece of advice: wake up. Is this really power you should have? The Oceanus Sea is in serious trouble. Aren't you even a little worried about your Atlantis?"
She left the warning behind, guided Pegasus into the sky, and shot toward the gateway of Peloponnesus, straight for the Kingdom of Mycenae.
At the same time, a nearly invisible ripple stirred in the air. The God of Sleep revealed himself for an instant, then quietly withdrew as well.
Atlantis… my Atlantis!
Poseidon snapped out of it, staring at the storm sea that kept expanding as the chaotic currents spread. His expression flickered, but he still couldn't bring himself to stop.
Zeus was already on his last legs. Even without Athena, if Hera and I work together, if we just take a little more time, we can still—
Clang!
Before he could decide, a blue-white arc of light detonated in front of him. Rampaging lightning surged through his limbs, leaving him briefly numb. His trident was knocked free and sent flying.
A prickling chill crawled over him as Zeus lifted his Thunderbolt, its tip leveled straight at Poseidon's brow.
But the price was clear. The chains Hera controlled had already bitten deep into the God King's flesh, completely sealing his divine core.
Zeus stood at the center, silent for a moment. Then he turned to Hera and smiled faintly.
"My love, if you want my life, then take it. I've broken our marriage vows again and again. Your revenge would be only fair."
"No, Your Majesty, I just…"
Hera froze, shaking her head on instinct.
"If this is only to vent your anger, then this farce has gone on long enough. Let go. I swear by Styx, the goddess of oaths, I will ensure you face no punishment."
Zeus's face hardened, his voice low, his deep gaze fixed on his wife.
The Queen of Heaven's thoughts tangled in an instant. With only a few words, Zeus scattered the resentment that had been piling up inside her, pressing her with both softness and force. Her fingers slackened without meaning to.
Without Hera's divine power reinforcing them, the chains immediately weakened. Zeus gathered his authority over the sky again and forced out the suppression curse embedded in his body.
With the Thunderbolt pointed at his forehead, Poseidon never dared make a move. He could only watch Zeus break free as the schemes he had spent centuries building collapsed into nothing.
When the "wise God King" tore off the chains, now stripped of any binding effect, Hera had already steadied herself. She dispersed her divine power and stood on the steps with a relaxed shrug, clearly aware she wouldn't be seriously punished.
As for Athena, who had left early, part of Zeus's trump card was still in her hands. Areopagus would not lose out either.
The one who truly drew the short straw was Poseidon. After all his scrambling, he was now the perfect scapegoat. Worse still, Atlantis—his painstaking creation—seemed to be teetering in the storm, its future uncertain.
The Sea King who had once been so full of drive now let his head hang. In that single moment, it was as if all his ambition had been washed away, leaving him like an old man waiting for judgment.
Having weathered the crisis, Zeus snorted, ignored Poseidon completely, and left his elder brother standing there as he rose and walked out of Hera's temple.
"What are you going to do, my King?"
Hera's expression tightened as she asked.
Zeus stopped beneath the portico, lifted his hand, and lit a torch. His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
"Come. It's time to light the sacred fire, summon the gods, and hold a feast…"
...
Meanwhile, along the coast of the Kingdom of Mycenae on Peloponnesus.
The nearshore waters churned into a filthy swirl, silt and sand rolling up from below. Great sheets of ghastly white foam piled in layers and crashed onto the shallow banks.
With the rise and fall of the surf, drowned cattle and horses, human corpses, shattered wreckage, and even stranded sea beasts were shoved onto the shore.
The markings on bronze armor and splintered hull fragments made the sentries' blood run cold. They slammed on bronze bells in frantic warning.
It's over! Crete is finished! The Minoan Kingdom is finished!
But before even one full round of bells could ring out, the sound cut off dead.
The soldiers stared at a towering wave that seemed to connect sea and sky, advancing parallel to the coastline. In the blink of an eye it reached the shallows. Faces drained of color; limbs went slack. Like marionettes with their strings cut, they sagged against the city wall and slid down helplessly, despair swallowing them whole.
Mycenae… is finished too…
This is… the end of humanity…
Whoosh!
At the last possible instant, a razor-bright arrow streaked in from the sky above Mount Caucasus, crossing the distance in a flash and plunging straight into the immense wave.
Boom!
In an instant, the golden light buried within the water curtain began to greedily draw in the surrounding Ether, twisting and compressing it. When the power reached its limit, it erupted.
A burst of golden radiance flared, and an overwhelming shockwave slammed outward, cutting the towering wave clean in two.
"Earth's Command, upon my body, let the weight of the world answer my plea—Earth's Authority! Conformity, Solidify!"
Almost at the same time, a purple streak dropped like a comet and smashed into the shoreline. A solemn divine chant echoed in everyone's ears.
Then, from the earth beneath that purple figure's feet, a gray-white rock wall thousands of meters high surged upward, arching along the coast like a guardian barrier.
Rumble!
The impact came with thunderous, unending roars. The rock wall shuddered violently as salty seawater blasted into the air and rained down in sheets, like a torrential storm, hammering the sentries along the shore.
Drops as large as soybeans clattered against their armor. Any exposed skin that got caught in the spray quickly bruised and swelled, leaving their limbs aching and numb.
"A miracle! A Divine Spirit has come to save us!"
Still half in a daze, the soldiers suddenly realized that the cold, distant goddess with flowing purple hair was exactly the figure enshrined in Mycenae's Temple of the Earth Mother Goddess, worshipped for countless generations.
The Mycenaean soldiers who had survived at the sentry post stared at the coastal wall standing before them and nearly lost their minds with joy. From the watchtower, they dropped to their knees and bowed again and again to the deity who had descended.
"Idiots! If you've got time to worship, then get moving!" Samael snorted, his voice cutting like ice. "Go back and report to your king. Get the civilians evacuated. Summon the nation's heroes, Maguses, and priests here to reinforce the coastal wall and prepare for the next удар!"
Samael had spent divine power to tear open a spatial rift and descend here in person. Only now did the soldiers snap out of it, scrambling down from the post and sprinting off to carry out the order.
"Don't bunch up! Three to a group, spread the message out!" Samael barked when he saw them running around like headless flies. "And not just Mycenae. Notify every coastal city-state nearby. Light the sacred fires in the temples along the way, ring the disaster bells, send more hands, and use every warning method you've got!"
His shout was sharp enough to yank their minds back into place, his divine intent pressing the command into them.
Once the soldiers scattered in all directions, the Ancient Serpent leapt onto the coastal wall. He looked out over the Oceanus Sea, a solid mass of darkness where thunderheads and stormlight churned, then down at the wreckage along the shore with its unmistakable markings. He drew a slow breath, reached out, and rested a hand on Medusa's shoulder, his voice gentler.
"Ana, don't worry. Your sisters… they'll be fine."
Medusa pressed her lips together and nodded. The worry in her eyes eased. She took several Earth Hearts from Samael and set them into the coastal wall, reinforcing it further to withstand the next tsunami.
At that moment, the tides heaved. Twelve prismatic pillars of light merged into one and drifted down like ribbons, spreading out like a glittering veil that lit up the black sky over the Oceanus Sea.
Within the storm fog, a vast blue-white humanoid silhouette gradually sharpened and solidified. A deep-blue vortex at its abdomen looked as though it held an entire starfield, and its body seemed woven from countless points of starlight. Golden-blue stellar patterns pulsed in a steady rhythm, beautiful and uncanny.
Splash!
Then two beastlike claws, absurdly oversized compared to its frame, swung forward. The sea reacted as if struck by a catastrophic gale, and a tsunami of staggering height surged toward the shore.
In the glare of the sky's halo, Samael finally saw the white giant clearly. It had the face of a human woman, and atop its head were long, slender, rabbit-ear-like organs.
The Ancient Serpent's breath caught, his pupils shrinking hard.
Damn it… the Civilization Reaper—Alien Sefar! Why did it have to be this murderous thing?!