6 Order

Zeus nodded and stood shoulder to shoulder with his son, gazing at the changing and shifting images in the mist. It all revealed the aftermath of his decision to illuminate the night sky with the Milky Way.

It had been a risky move, pushing the boundaries of the Ancient Law of Secrecy, almost on the brink of breaking it. But to Zeus, it was a risk worth taking. He needed to demonstrate his commitment and love for Hera, backing up his words with action. It was the least he could do after everything that had transpired in their marriage, which, let's face it, was broken and shattered.

Hera hadn't returned to Olympus yet. Zeus had an inkling of where she might be, probably seeking solace with their mother. He could probably track them down with some effort; the temptation was strong, but Hera needed time and space now more than ever. After all, his transformation had essentially brought the bleak state of their marriage to the forefront, a truth they both had been ignoring. It was a catalyst, no doubt.

I just hope, truly hope, it won't lead to the end.

Hermes' steady voice brought Zeus back from his thoughts. "The fallout is immense. The Mist is weaving its wonders, obscuring and warping the perception of mortals as always." He took a significant pause. "But Lord Father, the magnitude of your act was colossal. The Mist hasn't been able to completely erase its traces."

Hermes waved his hand at the flickering images of puzzled scientists, the most brilliant mortal minds baffled and confused, occasionally glancing up at the sky from their groundbreaking works. Then there was the President of the USA himself, scrutinising his cabinet in doubt. It didn't stop there; the images revealed more mortals from Europe, Africa, and South America, all looking bewildered and confounded. They hadn't witnessed anything directly, but they could instinctively sense that something had happened, something far beyond their mortal comprehension.

Zeus merely gave it all a superficial glance. "Get Hecate on it," he ordered. "A sweep from her through the Mist will erase every trace from the mortal world." He added after a moment of careful thought. "And bring her to Olympus after. Her presence is needed."

Hermes nodded, accepting his orders without question. Then his professional expression finally crumbled into one of significant worry. "And Lord Father, about the Ancient Law of Secrecy..." he spared a cautious glance at Zeus. The King of Gods nodded, urging him to continue, and so he did, taking a deep breath, "It may not have been broken, but you nearly infringed upon it." He looked up at the sky, at the cosmos within which their world floated. "They—the Angels—will be watching us."

Ancient Laws.

In the Percy Jackson books, it was a code of laws that Gods adhered to strictly and obediently. The origin of those laws remained a mystery, but now everything was clear; the Silver City (Heaven) introduced and enforced the ancient laws on the world.

It all began with the coming of Christ. The Age of Gods ended then and there. Silver City took over the world entirely. There was no fight or war between the Divine Pantheons and Heaven. Rather, all the Gods were absolutely dominated and forced to submit to the might of the Silver City. Even the Kings and Queens of the Pantheons could do absolutely nothing but sign their compliance to the commandments of the Ancient Laws. After all, the Silver City was just too powerful; each Archangel under the Throne of Heaven had might comparable to a primordial.

And the one who led it all was Gabriel, one of the first three Archangels created by God, more powerful than even the Primordials. His presence single-handedly sealed the end of the Age of Gods, for no one was willing to go against the One who wove the Order.

The ancient laws were not concrete decrees but rather conceptual and abstract principles etched directly into the very fabric of reality. Their effects were all-encompassing and downright terrifying; the Gods could feel their influence, and while they possessed some autonomy to attempt to defy them, lesser beings weren't granted such a privilege. They would unwittingly adhere to the Ancient Laws throughout their lives, often without even realising the existence of these cosmic dictates.

One of the ancient laws was the Code of Secrecy, forbidding Gods or any other extraordinary being from revealing the truth of their reality to the mortal world.

Zeus looked up at the cosmos as well, closing his eyes as memories of the past flashed before his eyes, of how he fell from his throne to the feet of Gabriel. "I know," he ultimately whispered in acknowledgment, turning to Hermes as he opened his eyes, bright and glaring. No matter from which point, Heaven looked insurmountable.

For now.

FOR NOW.

He made an oath like that countless times in the past, but this one was different, ringing with such certainty and conviction in his heart.

Hermes swiftly moved on with the briefing, probably sensing his stormy mood. "Next up is the extraordinary side," the God of Thievery gestured at the wall of mist, and the images rippled to display the various extraordinary communities throughout the divine empire. And there were many. It wasn't just Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. There were Magical Communities (not those damn Egyptians!), Vampire Covens, Werewolf Packs, Demigod establishments of other Pantheons, Monster Bars(yes, that was a thing) and so much more.

You name it, it was there.

A whole wonderful yet twisted world right beneath the mortal world, separated only by the thin veneer of the Mist. "Your Celestial act has been the talk of everywhere. Many still don't know it was you, but rumours have been spreading all around recently, especially from Olympus." He finished carefully, gauging his father's reaction.

"So everyone knows," Zeus cut to the chase.

"Yes, they do," Hermes simply nodded.

"Let it be." Zeus decided. "It will die out soon, anyway," his tone sharpened. "But Hermes, about the rumours flying from Olympus, keep a record of all the sources, just in case, will you?"

"Yes, Lord Father." Hermes bowed in finality.

Zeus turned and left the courtyard, making his way toward the highest balcony of the palace. There he stood, overlooking Olympus and West. He leaned forward on the railing, his thoughts torn between dark yesterdays and bleak futures.

"My Lord?" A sweet voice called from behind him. It was Ganymede, who had finally managed to find him. Good timing, regardless. I really need a drink.

Zeus turned and stared. Ganymede had really gone all out. He was decked in golden jewellery; rings, earrings, nose ring, and wrist rings—all adorning numerous white veils that draped his tanned and stunning body with a fashionable flair, flowing and billowing gracefully with each step. Yet, the veils did little to hide the sculpted contours of Ganymede, brimming with allure. His coppery eyes, filled with conviction, held Zeus, bearing the Chalice of Gods in his hand.

As Zeus looked at Ganymede, he was torn. A part of him yearned to forget all his troubles and fuck Ganymede right then and there, until all he could whisper was his name. Another part felt deeply disturbed and uneasy about the first part. Look, Caspian was as straight as they come, and as for Zeus, well, Zeus was Zeus. There was no sugar-coating it. He might have even outdone Aphrodite in the realm of Desire, if not for the unholy orgies sponsored and conducted and participated in by the Goddess of Love almost every day. Some of them were traumatising to even him.

Zeus didn't try to figure out what sexuality he would fall under now, for he already had an answer: Herasexual. Truly, Hera was all that mattered from now on. Desire be damned, he wasn't going to cheat on her again.

"Your drink. With extra ice." Ganymede passed a cup of nectar to him, his posture leaning to reveal even more of his sculpted body. The cup was brimming with shimmering golden liquid, nectar collected from the dews of the heavenly tree in Mount Olympus at the dawn of the first day of spring. It was the highest concentration of nectar in the world, one of the greatest drinks in the cosmos.

Zeus grabbed the cup, crossing fingers of Ganymede filled with suggestiveness and invitation. He ignored it, hoping Ganymede would pick up on the cue, but of course, being the overcompensator, Ganymede did the exact opposite thing.

Zeus turned away from the alluring form of Ganymede, his gaze fixed on the ocean of clouds ahead and glimpses of Manhattan underneath. He took a sip from the chalice, feeling the chilling sweetness coursing through his being and soothing his heart.

"My Lord.." Ganymede hugged him from behind, pressing his lips against his ear, whispering sweetly. "You look so drawn and weary. Allow me to help you get some rest."

Zeus sighed. He was going to have to do this, hadn't he? To sweet Ganymede, whose whole world seemed to revolve around him. Okay, that was messed up; he didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to just grab Ganymede and bring him to Olympus as his... companion and cupbearer back in Ancient Greece—oh, who was he kidding? He knew exactly what he thought: Oh, would you look at that? He's pretty! I want him!

Oh my Gaea! Grandmother, just wake up and swallow him already!

"Rest is the last thing I will be getting from you, Ganymede," Zeus chided, escaping the other's embrace and turning to face him, taking another sip of nectar. Damn, this is good...

"Oh," Ganymede chuckled suggestively, though his confidence and conviction were beginning to wane under Zeus' unmoved stare. "I am sorry, but you are mistaken. After all that transpired, rest is but one of the sensations you will be experiencing, my Lord..." he trailed off, his voice lost under Zeus' sigh.

"Ganymede, my sweet Ganymede," Zeus's voice was barely above a murmur, his hand lingering on Ganymede's cheek. "You don't have to go through this anymore. You're my cupbearer, and that's all you should be."

Ganymede's eyes welled up, his body leaning into Zeus's touch. "Is it me?" he choked out, vulnerability etched across his face. "Have you finally had enough of me?"

"No, no, no, that's not it," Zeus's response was gentle, his words carrying a mixture of comfort and reassurance. "You are not the problem, it's me." He released his grip on Ganymede, stepping back to let his words sink in. "You're my perfect cupbearer, Ganymede. That's all I want from you now. Understand?"

Ganymede nodded, his expression still pained, but now devoid of confusion.

"Understand?" Zeus pressed again.

"Understood, my Lord!" Ganymede nodded vehemently, wiping away his tears in a moment of conviction. "I will continue to be your perfect cupbearer." He bowed to Zeus, a full and complete bow. "I will not disappoint you."

"Good," Zeus said with a satisfied smile, though his heart was one of pain and sorrow, looking at the broken young god before him, shattered by his own hands. "Here," he passed the cup back to Ganymede. "Refill it."

And Ganymede did so with careful precision, grabbing the Chalice of the Gods from midair and refilling his cup, then passing it back to Zeus.

Zeus took the cup and turned back to the balcony. It was a dismissal and Ganymede understood it this time, turning and walking out onto the balcony.

"And Ganymede?"

Ganymede stopped at the threshold, turning back to Zeus, but Zeus didn't turn, his gaze fixed ahead at the ever-changing world.

"Thank you."

Ganymede's lips quivered, his hands trembled, and his eyes widened, but he gathered himself and nodded in acknowledgment before disappearing behind the curtains of the balcony.

Zeus let out a heavy sigh, taking more and more sips of the heavenly nectar. Yes, he wanted to help Ganymede, but he was already far too gone because of his actions. Trying to help him would only do the exact opposite. Even if he released Ganymede from his duty, what would he do and where would he go? Everything that belonged to Ganymede was already gone long ago.

Zeus took another swig, letting out a heavy breath. It was time to quit wallowing in the past and face what lay ahead. Brooding wouldn't undo the mess he'd made.

First things first, he had to nail down the members of the Sovereign Advisory. Athena and Hermes were non-negotiable. Then, there was Hecate. Because magic was magic, it was the wild, untamed force that ran through the world, giving a damn about borders and boundaries. It was also a ticking bomb. Just look at the Dream of Endless, a cosmic entity shackled by magic somewhere in Britain. And there were spells that could make even a god bleed and even fall. Olympus needed Hecate on board, keeping an eye on that unpredictable power. Tying her to the Sovereign Advisory was the best option. It meant she'd be bound to Olympus, no more room for any lingering doubts or discontent.

Then came the War seat. Yeah, Athena was also the Goddess of War, but her strategic finesse wouldn't cut it alone for the Advisory. They needed someone who could bring the ruthless, brutal edge of War to the table. That seat had Ares written all over it. Enyo might've been the smarter pick - she had that fiery War spirit like her brother, but with a sense of restraint and order. Yet, Zeus had this crazy notion of giving his good-for-nothing son a shot at redemption, at making a real impact. As for Enyo, she could become the vanguard of Olympus.

Next up, the Order seat...

Zeus was in a bind. There was a perfect contender for this spot, but she'd long retired from her position on Olympus. He mulled it over for a moment, then made up his mind. Maybe it was selfish, but damn it, he wanted her back on Olympus.

The King of Gods hurled a piece of his essence through the sky, transforming it into a lightning bolt that ripped through the heavens, its brilliance hidden from prying eyes. The bolt streaked from the East Coast to the West Coast in an instant, crashing down into Wyoming. It streaked through the forests and mountains of Yellowstone before finally slamming before the entrance of a massive villa, an amalgamation of Ancient Greek and Gothic architecture, situated right beside a waterfall, with a view overlooking the dormant supervolcano. It was the perfect spot for a divine abode, to be brutally honest.

What better place than right above a world-ending catastrophe for the home of a God, or in this case, a Titaness.

The bolt didn't inflict any damage, dissipating into electric embers from which Zeus emerged, his form coalescing out of his very essence. Has he ever enlightened you about this marvellous and practical divine ability? He's guessing not. You see, Gods have this knack for existing in multiple places simultaneously by dispersing their essence to manifest various forms of themselves. It's not quite like clones, but imagine it as a hive mind—a way of extending your consciousness to different locations, only in this case, you're physically present too.

So there you have it. Zeus was at both Olympus, sipping his Heavenly nectar in contemplation, and striding toward the gate of the Titaness' Villa.

The gate swung open of its own accord, revealing a divine woman. She was a sight to behold, adorned in a sleeveless white gown adorned with intricate silver embroidery, tracing delicate patterns across the fabric, emphasising every contour of her figure. The gown flowed gracefully around her, its hem barely skimming the ground, as if with an ethereal touch. Her cascade of blonde hair framed her face, tumbling down to her hips like a waterfall of shimmering gold. Each strand seemed to catch the light, a river of brightness. Her golden eyes held an undeniable sense of power and authority, reflecting the wisdom gathered over epochs. She was none other than Themis, the Titaness of Justice, Order, Custom, Divine Law, and Oracular Prophecy. Also my former wife.

"Welcome, Lord Zeus," Themis acknowledged with a light bow, though her expression betrayed questions and doubts and surprises. So she didn't foresee my arrival? Well, that only raises more questions.

Zeus nodded and followed Themis into her house. It seemed he had stumbled upon a tea party, with Titanesses spanning generations—from Mnemosyne to Leto—all gathered around a table laden with desserts, snacks, and tea. They were all gawking at his new form, standing on their feet with a mixture of shock and curiosity and disbelief.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" Zeus began apologetically. At his words, their reactions and emotions seemed to intensify.

"Not at all," Themis shook her head, her bright eyes unwaveringly fixed on him. She motioned to the table, conjuring a chair at the empty end. "You can join us if you want," she offered openly.

"Yes," Leto chimed in with enthusiasm. "You're welcome to join."

"Oh, no," Zeus politely declined. A tea party with his exes wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. But this situation was... well, it was a different league of godly life, even for Zeus. Maybe they were all curious because of his transformation. Perhaps this wasn't a tea party at all, but an urgent meeting gathered to discuss about him. "I'm here to discuss something important with Themis and… Hecate." Since she was here as well, he might as well break the news to Hecate too.

Themis and Hecate turned somber, nodding to their sisters, nieces, and aunts before ushering Zeus into a private chamber. The eyes of the hall followed them, a mix of disappointment and relief. As Themis began to close the chamber doors, a whirl of hushed whispers erupted, momentarily drowned out by the thud of the closing doors.

Hecate settled into her chair, deliberately avoiding Zeus's gaze, while Themis took a seat beside her. Zeus was positioned across from them.

"What is it that you want to discuss with us, Lord Zeus?" Themis took the lead in the conversation, sharing a meaningful glance with Hecate. There was an underlying tension in both of their movements, something Zeus had missed before due to its subtlety. But now, with both of them together, he couldn't ignore it. And both of them are goddesses tied to domain of Destiny. Troubling.

"Themis," Zeus didn't beat around the bush, focusing on Themis. "I want back on Olympus."

——

Meanwhile, on Mount Olympus, Zeus took another sip from his cup, savouring its taste as he contemplated the selection of the Seat of Destiny. Apollo? Nah! He had a much better position in mind, one that would perfectly suit his son. And let's not even start on the three Fates. They weren't exactly tied to his pantheon or any others, in fact. So who else?…

His deliberation was interrupted by a blaze of light, within which a divine figure materialised. She appeared tall, ethereal, and vibrant, with long black hair flowing gracefully over her shoulders. Her dark-brown eyes brimmed with youth. Dressed in a long blue sleeveless gown that sparkled with gold, it was fastened around her slender waist with a belt made of golden leaves. Similar metal armbands adorned her tender arms. A golden flowery crown adorned her head, accentuating her otherworldly figure.

She was none other than Hera, the Goddess of Marriage and his beloved wife.

Zeus turned and stared, taking in all the glory of his wife. She had gone all out. The last time Zeus had seen her take on such a youthful appearance was many centuries ago. Like himself, Hera preferred a more mature and regal demeanour, though certainly not to the extent of his perfection. Still, seeing her like this made his heart beat like thunder.

Hera didn't say anything, joining him on the balcony, their gazes fixed on the world below. Their hands rested against the cool marble railing, their figures bathed in the warm hues of twilight.

The setting sun was brilliant and nostalgic against their youthful forms, reminiscent of the one they had witnessed after the end of the Titanomachy. One that signified the close of an era.