Red blue blur
The battle between Zeus and Poseidon raged on with ferocity, lightning clashing against crashing waves in a spectacle of divine power. Thunder roared as the god of the sea summoned storms to meet the lightning strikes, the sky torn between the fury of sky and sea. But the tide was turning—Poseidon's strength was fading, his breaths labored and uneven under the relentless assault of his brother's unyielding power.
Thal watched from the sidelines, every fiber of his being aching to leap into the fight and aid his father. Yet he knew better. He was not ready, not strong enough. The burning desire to help was a cruel reminder of his own limitations.
Just as Zeus prepared to deliver a crushing blow to the weakened Poseidon, a streak of red and blue suddenly tore across the sky—a blur moving faster than the eye could follow. The figure was a tempest of motion and power, a blur that collided with Odin, the Allfather, who had been circling above, waiting for the perfect moment to strike at Thal.
The punch landed with staggering force, sending Odin hurtling away in a fiery arc toward the south. The earth trembled where he crashed far from the battlefield, near the vast, wild lands Thal guessed might be Africa. The duel between Odin and the mysterious figure vanished from sight, a distant storm beyond Thal's vision but burning bright in his mind.
Back on the field, Zeus snarled, his momentary distraction fading. His attention snapped back to Poseidon, who struggled to rise, wounds deep and strength nearly spent. "You think you can best me?" Zeus spat, his voice like thunderclaps. "You are weaker than ever, brother."
Poseidon's gaze was fierce despite the pain. He called forth one last surge of power, sending a massive tidal wave crashing toward Zeus, forcing the thunder god to stagger back. But even the sea's fury could not mask the exhaustion in Poseidon's eyes.
Zeus retaliated with a brutal lightning strike that hammered Poseidon into the rocky ground. The god of the sea collapsed, breath shallow and fading, as Zeus loomed over him, ready to end the fight.
Thal's chest tightened with desperation. He wanted to run forward, to stop Zeus, but his body refused. The weight of his inadequacy crushed him. Not yet.
Suddenly, the wind shifted, and a new figure landed beside Poseidon—a woman whose presence radiated calm strength. She bore no crown of divinity, no radiant glow of the gods, yet her eyes burned with a power that made Zeus hesitate. Her voice was low but commanding. "Back away, Zeus. This ends now."
Zeus snarled, surprised and wary. The woman stood firm, a silent challenge in her stance. Her presence shifted the battle's rhythm, granting Poseidon the precious moments he needed to regain footing.
Thal's heart thundered. There was something about her that stirred something deep within—a familiarity he could not yet understand. This woman fought not as a goddess, but as a warrior grounded in a world beyond the gods' dominion.
Zeus narrowed his eyes, pulling back for another strike. But now, the battle was no longer simply between gods. Something greater was unfolding, ancient grudges and hidden truths woven into every blow.
As thunder crashed and waves surged, Thal stood frozen, caught between awe and fear, knowing this fight would shape the fate of gods, mortals, and the boy whose blood bound them all