A Few Days Later – The Garden Above Olympus
The sky was soft.
Not calm. Just… soft. Like the clouds were watching.
Zeus stood near the edge of the high garden, arms crossed, hair drifting with the breeze. Lightning flickered through his irises now and then, a twitch he hadn't fully mastered yet. Olympus pulsed below, alive but silent, waiting. He didn't say much. He didn't need to.
Because today… they came to him.
One by one.
He felt them before they stepped onto the garden's sacred stones.
Themis was the first.
She didn't walk. She glided—regal, draped in white and shadow, her eyes veiled in gold light. Where her feet touched, the flowers straightened. Even the air paused.
"Zeus," she said, voice steady, low.
He turned slightly. "Themis."
She looked at him a little too long. Then stepped forward until she stood beside him.
"I've seen how you command silence. And storms," she murmured. "But I wonder… what would you do if someone commanded you?"
He blinked.
