The ground of Pangu's realm shifted like it was alive. Each step Zeus took rattled mountains into avalanches, each breath made rivers surge like they were afraid. His storm coiled around him, but it was no ordinary lightning anymore. This was the storm that had swallowed Tartarus, split Ymir's skull, burned through Erebus, and drowned Tiamat's brood.
The guardians of Pangu poured without end. Giants of stone, taller than city walls, tore themselves out of cliffs. Creatures of gold crawled up from rivers, their bodies flowing like molten metal, reshaping with every wound. Winged beasts dropped from the red sky, their wings sharper than swords, feathers raining down like endless blades.
And then, the gods came.
