The television turned on by itself.
Elias noticed because the sound cut through the hospital's quiet like a blade.
"…—repeat, this is not a drill—"
The screen across from his bed flickered, resolving into a news anchor who looked hollowed out by exhaustion. Her hands were folded too tightly. Her eyes kept sliding, just slightly, off-camera.
Behind her, the city skyline burned.
Not figuratively.
Actually burned.
Elias pushed himself upright despite the pain. His ribs protested, sharp and immediate, but the screen held him in place.
"…global anomalies have been confirmed across multiple continents," the anchor said. "Authorities advise citizens to remain indoors unless instructed otherwise by local—"
The feed cut.
Static surged.
Then the image snapped into a helicopter shot over the Mediterranean.
Mount Olympus floated above Greece.
Not ruins.
Not a mountain range.
A single mass of stone and marble suspended in open sky, its peak wrapped in spiraling storm clouds. Lightning crawled across its surface, slow and deliberate, as if choosing where to strike.
The camera shook.
A voice whispered off-screen, "That's not possible."
The screen fractured.
Feeds replaced one another in rapid succession.
Cairo—gone.
An ocean of gold stretched where the city had been, dunes swallowing streets and towers alike. At its center burned a colossal sun disk, so bright the footage struggled to focus. Shadows moved beneath it—human-shaped, but wrong.
Northern Europe vanished beneath darkness as a massive tree erupted from the land, its roots tearing through cities, its branches punching into cloud cover. Ravens filled the sky in numbers that defied counting.
Japan disappeared.
One moment there was coastline.
The next, a flawless barrier sealed it off, translucent and absolute—like a decision made permanent.
Elias' stomach tightened.
This wasn't invasion.
It was reclamation.
[GLOBAL NOTICE]Myth Integration Threshold Breached.
Myth Zones Established.
The words overlaid the broadcast, flat and indifferent.
OLYMPIAN DOMINION — ACTIVE
EGYPTIAN SOLAR TERRITORY — ACTIVE
NORSE WILDS — ACTIVE
SHINTO ASCENSION ZONE — ACTIVE
The list continued.
Names Elias had learned as stories. Names that should have stayed buried.
A nurse hurried past his room, whispering into a phone. Another followed, pale and shaking. Somewhere down the hall, someone started crying and didn't stop.
The interface resized itself, as if reality had expanded and it needed more room.
[MYTH ZONE — LOCAL STATUS]Designation: MINOR OLYMPIAN INFLUENCE
Stability: FLUCTUATING
Environmental Modifiers:
– Atmospheric pressure increased
– Electrical activity elevated
– Authority resonance detected
Authority.
Elias felt it then—a subtle weight pressing down, not physical but conceptual. The air carried expectation. Obedience.
Outside the window, clouds gathered too fast.
Thunder rolled.
Something answered it.
The hospital lights flickered.
A scream echoed down the hall.
Elias stood, swaying. The floor felt solid beneath his feet, but the rules under it felt unsettled—still negotiating their boundaries.
The television cut back to live footage.
A crowd knelt in the street.
Not in prayer.
In fear.
Above them hovered a figure wrapped in lightning. Human-shaped, but larger. Brighter. Its voice boomed through the feed, distorted by authority rather than volume.
"Those who kneel will be protected," it said.
"Those who resist will be corrected."
A man ran.
Lightning struck him mid-step.
When the light faded, nothing remained but scorched pavement.
The crowd collapsed lower, foreheads pressed to the ground.
Elias looked away.
[SYSTEM ADVISORY]Pantheon alignment available.
Benefits: Protection, accelerated growth
Risks: Permanent binding
Binding.
The word settled heavily.
"So that's it," Elias murmured. "Choose a god or die."
The System did not disagree.
Another feed filled the screen.
A different city. A different continent.
Humans stood in a line before a towering figure with the head of a jackal. One by one, golden scales appeared before them, weighing something invisible.
Some were allowed to pass.
Others weren't.
Those who failed were dragged screaming into the sand.
Elias' hands clenched.
[NOTICE]Humanity Status Updated:
– Protected: Pantheon-aligned
– Contested: Neutral zones
– Expendable: Unregistered anomalies
Expendable.
The word hollowed his chest.
Unregistered.
That was him.
The truth settled with brutal clarity: this world no longer had space for people who refused to be claimed.
The screen flickered.
Went black.
For a moment, Elias saw his reflection—pale, hollow-eyed, dried blood beneath his nose.
Then text replaced it.
[PERSONAL ADVISORY]Subject Classification: PENDING
Recommendation: REMAIN UNSEEN
Elias exhaled slowly.
Thunder cracked overhead, close enough to rattle glass. Somewhere outside, a statue shattered. Somewhere else, a god accepted worship.
He pulled on the jacket folded over the chair and moved to the window.
The city still stood.
But it no longer belonged to itself.
Clouds churned overhead, heavy with borrowed storms. In the distance, lightning bent sideways, drawn toward an unseen throne.
This was the new world.
Carved into territories. Ruled by stories made flesh.
And he belonged to none of them.
Elias turned away from the window.
"If staying alive means staying small," he said quietly, "then that's what I'll do."
The System stayed silent.
But deep within its architecture, an error flag pulsed—unresolved.