In the heart of Olympus, beyond the Council Hall and behind the golden veil of light that cloaked the inner sanctum, the gods gathered once more.
The long marble table shimmered beneath the weight of divine presence—Zeus at its head, Poseidon silent at his side, Hades leaning against the shadows like a forgotten omen. Apollo, Artemis, Athena, Ares, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite each sat scattered, their pride dulled by dread.
And at the far end of the chamber stood Cronos—no throne beneath him, no crown above.
A father among children he once devoured.
The gods argued in quiet tones, each proposal more desperate than the last: assassination, ambush, awakening of old evils long buried in myth. Their voices rose and fell like a storm restrained within stone.
Zeus raised a hand.
Silence.
He looked across the table—into the eyes of the very beings who once followed his lightning blindly.
"I've made mistakes," Zeus said. "But none of them compare to the mistake of underestimating Megumi Valentine."
A few gods shifted uneasily.
"He has changed. He is no longer just a man of pain. He is purpose. Vengeance. Divinity incarnate."
He turned toward his father—Cronos standing still like a statue of regret.
"I know why you kneel to him," Zeus said. "I understand it now. But if there's even a fragment of who you once were left… then listen to me."
Cronos didn't move. His face was carved from stone, but his eyes flickered.
Zeus stepped closer.
"I'm not asking you to betray him. Not anymore. That was foolish. But at least… don't tell him our plans. Be what you've become—a pariah. An outcast among both sides."
Cronos raised his gaze slowly, searching Zeus's face as if seeing him again for the first time.
"Is that what you truly want of me, son?" Cronos asked, his voice ancient and heavy.
Zeus nodded. "Yes. For the gods. For Olympus. For whatever's left to save."
A long silence followed.
Then Cronos gave the faintest of nods.
"So be it."
Zeus turned back to the table, steeling himself.
"We begin now. We strike where it hurts."
He glanced at Athena. "I want records from the mortal realm. Anything that can tell us about the soul of the man who became the Fallen King."
To Artemis and Apollo: "Track his allies. Even if we can't sense them, find traces."
Then to Ares: "Ready your legions. If we go to war, you'll lead the first charge."
Ares smirked. "With pleasure."
Poseidon's brow furrowed. "You know this won't stop him."
"I know," Zeus replied. "But we're gods. We don't kneel. We fight."
He looked up.
"Until one of us no longer draws breath."