Minor God's Pov
WHAM.
The summons came without warning.
One moment, I was minding my own domain small, quiet, and insignificant by Olympian standards and the next, the air shifted. A sudden, suffocating pressure settled over me like an unseen hand closing around my ribs.
I froze, my whole body creaking under the weight of the pressure. For a moment, I couldn't help but frantically trace back through my actions over the last few days, wondering if I had done anything to warrant this kind of attention
This feeling… I knew it all to well instantly. It was a command. It wasn't spoken or written; it was simply carved into my soul. I was being called, and there was no choice but to answer.
The God-King had called.
I straightened instantly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Lesser gods did not receive personal summons not unless something had gone horribly wrong, or someone higher up couldn't be bothered to handle it themselves.
Golden light flared, and the space around me warped. Before I could even think, I found myself standing in the heart of Olympus.
The Great Hall loomed as it always did: vast, radiant, and carved from equal parts arrogance and eternity. Thrones lined the upper dais, though only one truly mattered. Zeus sat at the center, lounging with one arm draped lazily over his throne, as though the weight of existence were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
I dropped to one knee immediately. "You summoned me, Lord Zeus," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the marble floor.
Zeus
He was a mountain of a man, possessed of a physique so massive and dense it seemed to exert its own gravitational pull. His frame was a colossal landscape of heavy, hardened muscle, looking less like flesh and more like storm-beaten ivory.
His hair was a wild, silver-white mane, thick and crackling with a static charge that made the very air smell of ozone and burnt nitrogen. His face, though handsome in a rugged, patriarchal sense, was dominated by an expression of profound, chilling indifference.
His eyes were the true terror; they were pits of electrical chaos, flickering with the blue-white light of a thousand trapped lightning bolts.
Silence reigned over the throne room
The air reeked of ozone and sweat immediately lined up my forehead.
Zeus looked at me the way one might look at dust floating through sunlight. "There was a disturbance," he said casually. "Brief. Faint. Barely worth noting."
I swallowed hard. "A… disturbance, my lord?"
"The Fates felt it," Zeus continued, waving a hand dismissively. "Something foreign. In and out like a whisper brushing the edge of the realm."
I dared to look up, just a fraction. "Foreign… as in another pantheon?"
Zeus laughed. It was a short, sharp sound that carried no humor. "If it were worth that much concern, I wouldn't be sending you."
The words stung more than they should have.
"You will descend to Sparta," Zeus went on. "Observe. Confirm there is nothing of consequence. Then return."
No blessing. No warning. No further explanation. Just an order.
"Yes, Lord Zeus," I said quickly.
Zeus leaned back, his gaze drifting away. "Do not interfere. Mortals are fragile; they tend to break when touched."
I nodded again, deeper this time. "And if… if I find something?"
Zeus's eyes flicked to mine for a fraction of a second, cold and absolute. I could see carnage flicker underneath those eyes for a fraction of a second.
"You won't."
Lightning cracked softly along the pillars.
"Go."
Just like before I was immediately cast out back to the hallway.
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Zeus didn't move for a while after the lesser god left.
The hall was quiet. Too quiet.
Then another presence made itself known.
"You felt it too."
Athena stepped forward from the shadows between pillars, her armor gleaming softly, her expression thoughtful rather than amused.
She stood with a rigid, imposing posture, her physique tall and strikingly athletic—not with the bulk of a brawler, but the dense, functional strength of a seasoned commander. Her hair was a river of dark, somber bronze, pulled back with a severity that allowed no distractions from her sharp, analytical features.
Hera followed shortly after, her steps unhurried, gaze sharp and displeased as it always was.
She occupied her space with a terrifying, statuesque stillness. Her physique was deceptively graceful, possessing a regal height and a presence that felt wider and more suffocating than the room itself. She was draped in heavy, iridescent silks that shifted like oil on water, but they could not soften the hard, unyielding lines of her frame. Her hair was a dark, coiled crown, perfectly set and motionless, framing a face that was the very definition of haughty, aristocratic perfection.
"Of course I felt it," Zeus replied. "The Fates don't whisper without reason."
Hera folded her arms. "Then why send him?"
Zeus glanced at her. "Because whatever it was vanished as quickly as it appeared."
Athena tilted her head. "Even fleeting things can be dangerous."
Zeus smiled faintly. "You worry too much."
Hera scoffed. "That's rich, coming from you."
Athena stepped closer. "The Fates don't misread the Loom. They sensed something that didn't belong. Not a god. Not a titan. Not even a primordial."
That earned Zeus' attention.
"Explain."
"They couldn't see it," Athena said calmly. "Only its passage. As if something crossed through the Greek realm without ever truly entering it."
Hera's frown deepened. "Impossible."
"Unlikely," Athena corrected. "Not impossible."
Zeus waved a hand. "If something truly dangerous had entered my domain, Olympus would know."
Athena met his gaze. "Would it?"
Zeus' smile faded slightly.
Hera turned away, pacing. "This realm has stood for ages. Mortals rise, mortals fall. Even other pantheons know better than to trespass openly."
Athena spoke again, quieter. "This wasn't open."
Zeus leaned forward.
"You think another pantheon is testing us?"
"I think," Athena said carefully, "that something passed through something it shouldn't have."
Hera sat on a regal throne next to Zeus's throne.
"Be clear."
Athena exhaled. "The Fates sensed a presence that did not originate from Khaos."
The room stilled.
Zeus laughed.
A full, booming laugh this time.
"Khaos is the origin of all things," he said. "Everything traces back to it. Even the primordials. Even us."
"And yet," Athena replied, unshaken, "the Loom hesitated."
Hera's eyes narrowed. "Hesitated?"
"For a single instant," Athena said. "As though something brushed against fate without belonging to it."
Zeus rose from his throne.
Lightning crackled faintly around him.
"You're suggesting something existed before the weave."
"I'm suggesting," Athena said, "that something exists outside it."
Silence.
Then Zeus exhaled slowly and waved a hand dismissively.
"Speculation."
Hera stared at him. "You're being careless."
"I'm being realistic," Zeus replied. "If the Fates truly believed it mattered, they would have shown us more."
Athena didn't argue.
She simply said, "What if they couldn't? "
That gave Zeus pause.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Athena said, "whatever it was… passed through something even they do not fully understand."
"Or better still, they came as if it were their own backyard. This is still a speculation, after all."
Hera looked unsettled now, though she hid it well.
"And you still think Sparta is irrelevant?"
Zeus scoffed. "Sparta is loud, violent, predictable. Mortal kings playing war."
Athena's gaze sharpened. "One of those mortals has shared wine with us."
Zeus shrugged. "Leonidas is exceptional. Still mortal."
Hera said nothing, but her eyes lingered thoughtfully.
Zeus turned back toward the mortal world.
"Let the lesser god confirm there's nothing," he said. "If the disturbance meant something, it will show itself."
"And if it doesn't?" Athena asked.
Zeus smiled.
"Then it never mattered."
High above the world, Olympus returned to its idle splendor.