Zeus, King of the Gods, stood at the pinnacle of Mount Olympus, his domain in the vast sky above. His appearance was timeless—white hair and a flowing beard framed a face etched with the wisdom of eons. Eyes glowing with the intensity of lightning surveyed his realm. His muscular frame was draped in a traditional toga, and sandaled feet were planted firmly on the clouded ground. The air crackled around him, heavy with the scent of ozone.
Though Zeus had taken many forms in myths and mortal tales, now was not the time for such trickery. A more pressing matter consumed his thoughts: the ever-present threat to Olympus. Be it from outside forces or the gods themselves, the memory of past betrayals lingered, a constant reminder of the precarious nature of his rule.
His gaze hardened as he recalled the most recent rebellion. Hera, his wife, had conspired with half the Olympians against him. The sting of betrayal still burned, forcing him to reevaluate his trust in others. Even Athena, once his favored daughter, had fallen from grace. Now, Artemis held that honor. After all, caution was its own form of wisdom.
So when a door materialized in the center of the throne room, Zeus's first instinct was to destroy it. Lightning danced at his fingertips, ready to strike. But before he could act, Apollo's voice rang out, delivering a prophecy:
"Through hidden door, veiled truths come to light, Heroes proven by lightning and darkness witness the fight. Seven masters, seven servants in recent past, A war of magi and spirits unsurpassed. What's glimpsed may shake Olympus to its core, As gods and demigods learn what came before."
The lightning at Zeus's fingers dissipated, but his anger remained. This prophecy spoke of an unknown war, a concept that eluded even Athena's vast wisdom. If the goddess of wisdom herself couldn't decipher its meaning, what hope was there of understanding it now?
Cautious but determined, Zeus commanded his children to investigate the mysterious door. Their examination revealed no immediate threat, but something even stranger emerged: a large screen, unlike anything crafted by magic or technology, its surface flickering with anticipation.
Then, words appeared that gave even Zeus pause: '4th Holy Grail War.' This was no ordinary viewing. Whatever was about to be revealed had forced its way into the heart of Olympus itself. Zeus knew he had no choice but to allow it.
His mind turned to the prophecy's words: 'Heroes proven by lightning and darkness.' The meaning was clear. Poseidon's son. Athena's daughter. And the satyr who accompanied them.
Zeus scowled. The last thing he wanted was Percy Jackson on Olympus again. That boy was a magnet for trouble. Yet, personal feelings couldn't cloud his judgment now. These demigods were needed, whether he liked it or not. He could only hope Poseidon would keep his son in check this time.
"Remind me again why we're heading back to Mount Olympus," Percy asked, feigning ignorance. They all knew the answer, but speaking it aloud made it feel more real.
Barely a day had passed since they returned Zeus's master bolt. The exhaustion of their quest still weighed heavily on them, yet here they were, once again ascending the Empire State Building. At least this time, they didn't need to convince the guard at the elevator; the gods were expecting them.
Annabeth gazed at him through the reflection in the polished elevator doors, her brow furrowed in thought. "I doubt they're calling us back to rehash the quest. Something else must have happened."
"Whatever it is, I've got a bad feeling about it," Grover muttered, nervously chewing on his shirt.
As they stepped onto Olympus, the breathtaking beauty of the divine realm momentarily quelled their anxiety. Percy led the way to the throne room, having been there once before. Grover caught a few olives from a passing wood nymph, whispering his thanks before popping them into his mouth.
Their awe turned to shock as they entered the throne room. The assembled gods were an intimidating sight, but it was the floating door suspended in midair that truly caught their attention. It hung there, defying gravity and logic, completely out of place amidst the grandeur of Olympus.
Percy swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Lord Zeus," he managed, his voice steadier than he felt. The three friends knelt before the King of the Gods, their heads bowed respectfully.
Zeus's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "It seems you've learned some manners, Jackson." His piercing gaze swept over them. "Consider yourselves fortunate. If not for this prophecy, you wouldn't be setting foot here again so soon."
"Thank you, Lord Zeus," Percy replied, uncertain if gratitude was the appropriate response.
Zeus wasted no time on pleasantries. "Someone explain to these demigods why we've summoned them. Before they start pestering us with questions."
The gods exchanged uneasy glances, reluctant to speak first. Finally, Athena stepped forward. "I will explain, Father." Her keen eyes met Annabeth's, a flicker of pride evident despite the gravity of the situation.
Athena addressed the demigods, her voice calm but serious. "This morning, this floating door appeared, accompanied by a prophecy. Both the door and what lies beyond it are unlike anything we've encountered in all our millennia."
Percy glanced nervously at the door, while Annabeth's mind was already racing, trying to piece together this new puzzle.
"I've studied the legends of the Holy Grail," Athena continued. "In mortal myth, it's said to be the cup used by Jesus Christ at the Last Supper, granting immortality to those who drink from it. The quest for the Grail is most famously associated with three knights—Sir Galahad, Sir Percival, and Sir Bors."
Annabeth's eyes widened with recognition. "Sir Galahad... one of King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table, right?"
Athena nodded, a hint of approval in her expression. "Correct. Galahad, Percival, and Bors undertook the quest for the Grail. But only Galahad, pure of heart, succeeded in finding and claiming it. After that, the Grail vanished from mortal hands."
She gestured to the floating door. "Yet the title we've glimpsed—'4th Holy Grail War'—contradicts everything we know. There was no war for the Grail, let alone multiple conflicts."
Annabeth frowned, her analytical mind grappling with this inconsistency. "But how is that possible? If the gods don't know about it..."
"Precisely," Athena replied gravely. "This 'Holy Grail War' exists beyond Olympus's knowledge. Our influence stretches back to ancient Greece, yet we have no record of these events. We are venturing into uncharted territory."
Apollo chimed in, his usual cheerful demeanor subdued. "The prophecy suggests this 4th Holy Grail War occurred recently—perhaps just a few years ago. We'll be viewing the events of this war on the screen within the door."
"So... it's like a divine movie night?" Percy muttered, unable to resist the quip.
Apollo's face brightened slightly. "Exactly! Possibly the easiest quest ever assigned to demigods."
But Percy, Annabeth, and Grover couldn't share Apollo's attempt at levity. The weight of the unknown pressed down on them, overshadowing any excitement they might have felt.
Percy shifted uneasily. "When do we start watching this war?"
Zeus's commanding voice cut through the tension. "Soon. But first, we must decide which gods will accompany you through that door, and which will remain here to guard Olympus. The balance of power must be maintained, even in the face of this... unexpected development."
Zeus's proclamation set off a flurry of discussion among the assembled gods. Ares, the god of war, leaned forward eagerly, his eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement.
"I should go," he insisted, his voice gruff. "If there's a war to be watched, I need to see it firsthand."
Aphrodite rolled her eyes, her beautiful features twisted in a moue of distaste. "Always so eager for bloodshed, Ares. Perhaps a gentler touch is needed here." She turned to Zeus, her voice honeyed. "Love often plays a crucial role in such tales, does it not?"
Hephaestus grunted from his throne, his gnarled hands tinkering with a small device. "Bah! Love and war—is that all you two think about? This 'Holy Grail' sounds like a powerful artifact. My expertise could be valuable."
Dionysus, looking bored as ever, took a sip from his Diet Coke. "Do we really all need to go? Sounds like a waste of time to me. I've got a camp full of brats to manage."
Demeter spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. "We mustn't neglect our duties to the mortal world. The harvests won't tend themselves."
Hermes, ever the mediator, raised his hands placatingly. "Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We need a balanced approach here."
Athena nodded in agreement with Hermes. "Indeed. We must consider the strategic implications. Too many of us entering this unknown realm could leave Olympus vulnerable."
Artemis, her silver eyes gleaming, added her thoughts. "I agree with Athena. We should send a select few, chosen for their wisdom and strength."
Poseidon, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "My son is involved in this. I will go." His tone brooked no argument, even from Zeus.
The King of the Gods surveyed the assembly, his expression thunderous as he considered their words. Finally, he raised his hand for silence.
"Enough," Zeus commanded. "I have made my decision."
The gods finally decided that six of them would accompany the demigods through the door: Zeus, Hera, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, and Poseidon. Hestia would be in charge of Olympus for the time being, while Hermes searched for additional information about this 'Holy Grail' from other sources.
The gods stepped into a dimly lit viewing room, its walls lined with plush velvet drapes. Several comfortable seats of various designs were scattered around, perfect for sitting down and relaxing. In the corner of the room, a long hallway led to additional rooms, including a kitchen and separate toilets. At the far end of the room, a massive screen dominated the wall, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow.
Zeus was the first to choose his seat, followed by Hera, Apollo, and Artemis. Athena positioned herself closest to the screen. Poseidon, however, deliberately chose a seat between the gods and demigods. His decision was not lost on the others present.
As the God of the Sea settled into his chosen spot, his sea-green eyes - so similar to Percy's - flicked between his son and his divine brethren. The subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed his dual role: a powerful Olympian and a protective father. By positioning himself between the two groups, Poseidon tacitly acknowledged the delicate balance required in this unprecedented situation.
Percy caught his father's eye, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident in his expression. Poseidon gave him a nearly imperceptible nod, a silent reassurance that, regardless of the cosmic drama unfolding around them, he was there as much for his son as for Olympus.
The other gods noticed Poseidon's choice as well. Zeus's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face at this reminder of his brother's divided loyalties. Athena's calculating gaze darted between Poseidon and Percy, no doubt considering the implications of this seating arrangement for the dynamics of their viewing experience.
Annabeth, ever observant, leaned closer to Percy and whispered, "Your dad's got your back." Percy nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the gravity of the situation.
"So, how are we going to start the viewing?" Annabeth asked aloud, her question breaking the moment of silent tension. Her query was immediately answered as the title screen began to glitch.