The Greek realm stirred.
It didn't happen all at once. It came in fragments—like cracks appearing in marble before the statue fell.
Ships that sailed the Aegean vanished in fogs that belonged to no sea. The Nile's waters, once calm, surged backward, flooding fields with black silt. The winds that usually obeyed the peaks of Olympus howled out of control, shredding crops, collapsing villages.
And then came the intrusions. Not Titans. Not mortals. Not monsters.
Gods.
Strangers.
From the east, Shinto kami danced across rivers, stealing offerings meant for nymphs. From the north, Norse spirits stirred in the mountains, their axes echoing through passes that had never known them. From the deserts, faint shadows of Devas flickered, their auras so strong that the air split, their presence alone bending worship away from shrines of Olympus.
