Chapter XIII
World Collide part 2
The whole council chamber was hushed as a result of what they had just witnessed, not because a monster had broken into Camp Half-Blood but because of what Hestia's son had done. The oldest Olympian, barring Aphrodite, and the one who had no intentions of having a family of her own at any point, had just given birth to the strongest and, possibly, most dangerous demigod in all of Camp Half-Blood.
Zeus was about to say something when Aphrodite, now at Hestia's height, crashed into her.
"Oh, you must tell me who captured your heart!" Aphrodite said, overjoyed, "You must tell me everything about him! Details, girl, details!"
"I must say I am also interested in who this person is," Athena said, looking at the hearth goddess. "You have never been one to look for romance, never mind conceiving a child from said romance."
"Well, if Hestia can do it, then maybe there is hope for my little sister." Apollo said, smiling.
However, Hestia was not having any of it; she was not the type to flaunt anything over other people. Least of all the first lovers she ever had. Hestia lightly pushed Aphrodite off of her and recomposed herself, clearing her throat for good measure. The hearth's fire returned to normal after Hestia calmed herself down.
"No." Hestia said finally. "None of you need to know who Heron's father is or where he currently is."
"Hestia, your son has a power never before seen; until now he could be a threat." Zeus said seriously, putting one foot forward. "He could have more powers he is hiding."
"My son is no threat to you, brother." Hestia said while getting a look from Hephaestus."And as for this power you say he has, I will speak with his father about it."
"No, you will bring his father here to explain it to all of us should he know something about it." Zeus ordered thunder cracking in the distance.
"I do not interfere with your love life. You will not interfere with mine." Hestia declared at her younger brother, causing the sky god to go wide-eyed and back off a bit.
The room went dead silent. Hestia had just called her little brother on his cheating habits, something she had never done before with anyone. For the first time since Hestia was rescued from her father's stomach, she was acting like a big sister and scolding her younger brother.
Suddenly someone started to laugh. All eyes turned to the source to see the king of the underworld laughing his ass off. After a few moments, he stopped and walked over from his dark corner.
"I have to say, Hestia, you told him, but I have had enough of this little drama show, and I'm going back to the underworld." He said, putting his hands on Hestia's shoulders and giving an extremely rare smile before heading for the exit. Just as he put his hands on the doors, Hades stopped. "And if Zeus does end up killing your lover, I will give him a special room in my own palace so you can visit him whenever you want." He then pushed the door open and left.
The room was silent for a moment before Zeus spoke again. "Apollo, I order you to look into Hestia's son's future."
Hestia was about to protest, but Apollo, not feeling like being the center of his father's anger, did as he was told. He closed his eyes and opened them moments later, looking shocked.
"I can't," he said, shocked.
"What do you mean you can't?" Zeus said angrily.
"I mean, I can't see into his future; something is stopping me." Apollo said a little bit fearfully.
Zeus looked at Hermes, his eyes full of electricity. "Go get him from Camp Half-Blood and bring him here NOW!"
Hermes disappeared from his throne back to the camp, clearly in a hurry, not wanting to be the target of his father's anger either.
Hestia was too busy to object to Zeus' orders, as she was busy with her own mind. Apollo was not able to see her son's future; that could only mean the Fates themselves were stopping him or... Prometheus, but he was not seen for a long time. Starting to fear for her son, Hestia looked into the hearth to see if she could see Heron, but to her horror, nothing happened.
Hestia's heart started to race. Something was hiding her son, and if it had this range of cover on him, then just how powerful was the being that was hiding her son from the view of Olympus? She had to find him; she could not lose her only son, but she had no leads... other than his father.
Hermes then came back with sweat coming down from his head. "We got a problem; Camp Half-Blood had been taken over."
Thunder boomed outside, and Zeus turned to look at Apollo. "Find your sister and bring her here by the Summer Solstice!" Zeus bellowed. "I don't know what it takes."
Before Apollo could leave, the doors to the council room burst open, causing all the gods to turn and look. Dionysus entered the room, who looked extremely haunted as he massaged his throat.
"Dionysus, where have you been?" demanded Zeus, breaking the silence of the council room as the god of wine went to his respective throne.
"Just getting back from camp, Father," answered Dionysus; he then let out a cough. "But there's something you have to know."
"That being?"
"Prometheus is back, and he has a message for you and Hestia," answered the camp director.
Now that seriously surprises them all. Prometheus had a message for him and Hestia.
"What is it?"
Dionysus looked at Zeus.
"Well..."
Even as the flames disappeared from view, it was enough light for Percy to continue to gaze at the towering, strong-built man who would have made a bodybuilder envious. His confusion grew, and he paid no attention to anything. Of all things, Prometheus was in front of him, commanding and alluring. Realizing that this was more than just a tale he had read about but a live reality that required his attention, Percy experienced a mixture of amazement and disbelief.
All the Half-Blood campers were astonished to see one of Olympus' most renowned fugitives, who stole the fires of Mount Olympus, was standing amongst them. Even the Wood Nymphs, who were hiding in the woods, and the Satyrs, who stopped fleeing, were astonished by what they saw and wondered if they were dreaming.
However, one thing that came to everyone's mind: who in the Hades is Heldenhammer?
The campers exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident. "Heron Heldenhammer? Is he talking about one of the new kids?" One of them finally ventured, curiosity piqued despite the tension lingering in the air.
Frustrated by their silence and gossip, Prometheus said again, but louder this time, "Will you remain there all day, appearing shocked as if you have encountered a specter, or will someone respond to my question?" The stillness that followed his outburst was palpable, as if the very air had thickened with tension." Where is he?!"
The silence hung heavily, unbroken, save for the distant sound of gunfire and explosions. Finally, Dionysus stepped forward from the shadows, his face in a permanent sober mood but with a scowl.
"Prometheus," he said drily, glaring at the titan of foresight. "You finally decided to show yourself. What brings you to this forsaken place after all this time? Surely you must have known that your arrival would not be met with open arms."
"Dionysus, I presume. My, my, time has not been kind to you at all," Prometheus said, assessing the wine god and murmuring loud enough for him to hear. "By the way, you look absurd in those clothes."
Dionysus frowned at the creature and crossed his arms over his chest in frustration. "I could not say the same to you." He said, "You look like you're dressed for a fantasy convention," while glancing at the Titans' outfit.
Prometheus simply raised an eyebrow at the jab, "Grouchy, who took your glass of wine today?" He redirected the jab, making Dionysus's mood even more sour than it is. "Speaking of wine, I'm surprised that you're not stumbling around drunk!" He exclaimed, "What happened? Did your... skirt-chasing habits finally catch up to you? If it did, then I shouldn't be surprised. After chasing far too many wood nymphs. I knew your father would punish you sooner or later for defying him. But never have I thought your punishment would be so lenient in the form of teaching their children how to survive."
"Taking care of every one of these brats is not a lenient punishment." Dionysus replied, his mood turning sour by the second: "Each and every one of them is a pain in my ass, and what's worse, dear old dad banned me from drinking wine."
At that moment, Prometheus began to laugh a little, and soon he couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. The Titan let out a raucous laugh that boomed over the mountains like a thunderstorm. The sheer force of his amusement sent tremors through the ground, shaking the very air around him as he struggled to contain his mirth.
Oh, by Sigmar's Blood! I never expected Zeus to be so crafty with his punishments, but I certainly didn't expect your father to forbid the god of wine—his own flesh and blood—from drinking wine. It's simply poor comedy. The Olympian has a reputation that dates back millennia as one of the most notoriously inebriated party animals in history. It's a cruel irony, really, to witness such a paradox unfold within the divine realm. Perhaps this is Zeus's way of teaching a lesson, but it seems more like a recipe for disaster than a moral lesson. But one that I find fitting for a god such as you."
"If you're done laughing at my expense, can you explain who your new friend's is?" Dionysus gestured to the few Stormcasts who stayed behind to guard him. "They look like mortals, but I could clearly see that they're not," he said suspiciously. "No human can emerge from a bolt of lightning as if it were inconsequential; are they a new project you have been developing?"
"Oh, them..."Prometheus shook his head and pointed to the Vanguard hunters dragging away the Hunters of Artemis like that brats they were away."I apologize for disappointing you, but I did not make these fine specimens. Not at all. I wish I did, but I was never smart enough or visionary enough to make anything so...perfect." He paused, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Their creation goes beyond mere craftsmanship; it is a blend of artistry and arcane lore that surpasses my own." A little smile that showed a mixture of respect and remorse appeared on his face as he spoke. "They embody everything I aspired to be but could never achieve—the essence of my dreams brought to life by another's hand. Although in every prefecton there is an "imperfection' that needs fixing."
"What have you done?" Dionysus made a demand. The weight of his gaze bore down on the room, making it clear that he expected an answer soon.
The air thickened with tension as everyone exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how Prometheus would respond to the god's accusation.
"What I had too," he said in a foreboding tone.
"Now where is he, Dionysus?"
The god of wine arched a single eyebrow. "Where is who?"
His eye narrowed, glowing more dangerously as he stared directly at the god of wine. Dionysus shifted uneasily, sensing the tension in the air. "Do not try and deceive me, Dionysus; I know that he is here." Prometheus spoke in a calm but chilling voice. "I saw the bolt of lightning that fell out of the heavens, felt the chill of the god of winter's blessing, and I felt the heat of the boy's divine flame a mile away. I know that it wasn't Apollo's flames because fire doesn't fall from the sky with a bolt of lightning. So for the last time; where is Heldenhammer "
"I'm sorry, Mr. Candlelight, but there's no brat with that last name," replied Dionysus dryly mocking .
"Oh, for the love of—" Realizing that what he was doing was not getting him anywhere, upon seeing the frightened faces of the campers, he decided to adopt an alternate approach. Prometheus exhaled scorching air to ease his fury. "How about a name that you should all recognize? A name that you would know" Prometheus sighed, his tone eerily calm, "Heron Hammer."
And as if the universe decided to answer him, a voice called out from the crowd of campers, strong yet panicked.
"Lord Prometheus!"
The Titan of Foresight turned to the young voice, he saw a Cathyan, the son of the Jade dragon, pushing his way to the front of the campers to reach him. He was wearing clothes covered in dirt and blood not his own. This signified that the servants of chaos had encountered his unit. He could see the despair in the boy's eyes, despite the fact that his face seemed controlled. Prometheus immediately knew that this teenager was one of Heron's friends and that something had gone wrong. With a surge of urgency, Prometheus stepped forward, his mind racing with questions. What had happened to Heron? Is he alright? Is he hurt? He needs to know.
"Zhou Cao, what is wrong?" He demanded, his voice steady.
"It's Heron; there's something wrong with him."
Prometheus's face soon turned pale knowing that he had thought too soon. "Take me to him. Now!"
As Prometheus hurried to the now-pale son of Sigmar, the campers and satyrs hurried aside to make place for the Titan, who passed by feeling the heat radiating off his browned skin. The aura around him was so intense that it left many of the campers breathless. This legendary figure came from an age before the time of the Olympian god. The one who had the nerve to steal the fire from the hearth on top of Olympus and give it to humanity during the age of the gods is now standing in front of them.
Prometheus sensed the urgency in the air as he drew closer, a secret cry for assistance from the weaker hero, whose face had gone pale, and his youth was barely conscious; his vitality had disappeared.
With each trembling breath, Prometheus could see the flickering flame of hope dimming within him. Time was running out, and the weight of the plight pressed heavily upon his shoulders as he prepared to take action.
"What happened to him?" asked Prometheus, examining the boy more closely and ascertaining the nature of his affliction.
"He utilized his blessing and abilities again." Zhou answered, worried about the health of his sword brother, before quickly adding. "He didn't have a choice. The creature we were fighting was a Ghorgon, which accounts for his current condition. The beast itself, though, was not any ordinary Ghorgon. It possessed an unnatural resilience, making it a formidable opponent even for us. The fight was hard for all of us. It was only when Heron brought down the final blow with Soul Drinker, powered with the blessing of Ulric and his own powers, that he was able to turn the tide of battle. But in the end, he overdid it this time since what he did exhausted him to the point of turning into... this."
Prometheus sighed in frustration. He ought to have anticipated that Heron would act in this manner. Heron has always been a little careless.
In an effort to transform a losing situation into a winning one or to escape unharmed, Heron, like his father, would do things that were almost too drastic to gain victory every time he encountered a powerful adversary.
His attempts to inculcate a sense of caution seem to be ineffective. As a result, the boy would make use of both his blessings and other gifts. It was terrible enough to use two, but all three? It would put a lot of stress on his developing physique. Goddamn his near suicidal tendencies.
Prometheus rubbed the tip of his forehead "How long?"
"Ten to eleven minutes—twelve, added the time he gained the right altitude for the drop." Zhou quickly answered, calculating the time down to the precise .
"Hmp, it is fortunate that he gained his father's endurance. If he was a normal mortal, then he would be a pile of blood and gore smashed on the ground. How did he get in the air in the first place?"
"He had some help with one of the campers," said Anatoly, pointing to Luke, who was standing beside the campers, who were watching him tend to Heron. "That kid really stepped up when things got hectic; I don't know what we would have done without him. While most fled in fear in sight of the beast a few of them had the courage to confront a Gorgon, despite their young age and inexperience."
The moment the Titan of Foresight saw Luke, he saw a boy much like Heron, albeit not as battle-hardened; however, Prometheus sensed a darkness within the son of Hermes, hidden beneath a gut-wrenching need to kill him right then and there, but Heron's pained groan drew his attention.
"Lay him down on the ground gently."
They did just that, laying him down gently on the ground. "Is there anything you can do for him?" Silena pleaded with a sense of desperation in her voice. But she felt her breath catch as she stared into the giant's eyes, which seemed to see directly into her soul as if judging her if she had done anything wrong.
It reminded her of miniature stars. Brightly burning. This made her more uncomfortable as the Titan of Foresight continued to stare at her.
Then the Titan's gaze softened, and for a brief moment, seeing Silena ignited a flicker of sadness and hope.
"Don't worry, child," he rumbled, his voice deep and resonant. "This isn't the first time I have had to help this child, and hopefully it will not be the last."
Leaning over Heron, Prometheus called upon his divine powers; he focused thin threads of fire, small as a spider's web, that appeared on his fingertips as he raised his palm in front of Heron's face, then adhered to the teenager's pale skin. Heron's eyes widened in surprise as the threads began to glow brighter, illuminating the dim surroundings of Camp Half-Blood. The campers watched in awe as Heron's entire body began to glow as his once deathly pale skin began to turn to a healthy golden beige.
"What is he doing?" Percy inquired, his tone a blend of wonder and trepidation.
Temporarily forgetting who Percy's father was, Annabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea," she replied numbly, dumbfounded at what she was seeing.
Prometheus, however, said nothing, absorbed in the complex dance of flames that obeyed his commands. Like a snake creeping under Heron's skin, the strings of flames moved through his veins with every twitch of his finger, eventually reaching his heart. His whole body gleamed so brightly that it became difficult to see, and that's when the fireworks really started. Like a newborn star, his entire body began to glow more brightly each second, making Dionysus and Chiron realize what was happening but not believing it.
Surprisingly it was Dionysus who said, "Everyone avert your eyes from him now!"
All the humans and nonhumans did as they were told just in time for a massive, bright pillar of light that shot into the sky, bursting into reality uncontrollably, a pulse of power that any divine could have felt had they tried.
And for some of them, even if they didn't.
Luckily, Prometheus was able to prevent that from happening, plunging his hand into the fourteen-year-old chest, wreathing the uncontrollable energies that incinerate any lesser being. Clenching his teeth, his hand clenched around the thing he was searching, then with all haste, the titan yanked his entire arm out of the teen's chest. With a grunt of effort, Prometheus pulled forth a pulsating orb of radiant energy, its surface crackling with raw power.
When he did, the light faded, leaving an unconscious teenager lying on the ground, but Prometheus moaned in pain as his entire palm was nearly burned to a crisp. Panting, the Titan grasped the light in his hands, placing it in a sack attached to his waist and sealing it tightly so that nothing might escape.
Prometheus nodded. "I did what I could for him." He panted, standing back up. "What he needs now is plenty of rest."
"He's not waking up." Anatoly pointed out.
Elodie rolled her eyes at how dull headed her friend could be "It's because he's exhausted from everything that happened you big idiot."
"Elodie is right. His body is fatigued from not only battling the beast but from taking a direct hit from a his father divine lighting. Fighting a dangerous beast such as a Ghorgon is no easy feat, even with a retinue of experienced warriors like yourselves. Most would have died in the attempt. It was only because of your four's extraordinary lineage and experience that allowed each of you to endure the unrelenting assault of the monster and allowed your leader to ultimately slay it. Had any of you been mere mortals, you would all have become its next late meal. Yet the victory you achieved stands as a testament to your strength and unity, a bond forged in the heat of battle."
Zhou did a small bow "Your praise honored us, lord Prometheus."
"Yes, well, don't let it get to your head, for you might lose it one day. Remember, staying grounded is just as important as celebrating your achievements. Humility can often be your greatest ally in navigating life's ups and downs. Is that understood?"
The group said "Yes sir." at the same time.
"And that goes to all of you," Prometheus declared, his voice resonating with conviction to the campers standing around him. "You may consider yourselves sons and daughters of the gods, but you're still young. There's much you'll all need to learn the weight of your actions. Embrace your potential, for it is not merely a gift but a responsibility that shapes the world around you."
As he finished, the Titan motioned with his right hand for two of the Hunter vanguards behind him to begin carrying the son of Sigmar to the Big house where he'll will be tended by the Tempest Lord.
The air was thick with tension as the other Vanguard Hunters stood at attention, their eyes fixed on the Titan, ready to follow his command at any a surprising gentleness, the two warriors picked him up with surprising ease. They picked him carefully on a shield, as if he were an honored warrior; their movements were deliberate and respectful. As the son of Sigmar lay upon the shield, a hush fell over the gathered warriors, each one bowing their heads in reverence.
"Where are you taking him?" asked Percy, worrying about what they were going to do to his friend.
One of the blue warriors stopped in the middle of its stride and slowly turned its head to face Percy. Unlike the rest, who wore metal face masks, this one only wore a hood. Revealing a tattooed face with a scar running down his left cheek. Many of the campers quickly move away from Percy in case he is killed by the warrior.
The warrior's voice sounded like thunder upon opening his mouth. "What is his life to you?"
"He's my friend!"
The figure now looked down at him as if he had said the most unreasonable thing ever. "You cannot be friends with his highness. You don't have the aura of a warrior, nor a demigod like the rest of this lot." Gesturing to the campers surrounding Percy before laying eyes upon Grover with an expression of distaste, "Nor is he friends with mutant scum."
Now Percy couldn't stand this, he got ready to box the thing in front of him. "I said I was his friend!" At this, Percy tried to throw a blow but found that he was plucked off the ground by the back of his shirt.
The figure looked him in the eye and said, "Respect." Then went on to say, "Not many have the courage to come and fight a Stormcast; that is, as you mortals put it, when they refer to us, it is not completely accurate to say the least." The figure's face was so blank it made Percy uneasy. "You stare death in the face; do you not have any words to say?"
Grover was now pounding his fist into the figure's back. It would be an understatement to say that it accomplished nothing; either that or he was unaware of it until Percy's pal Grover was on the ground. "To attack an immortal warrior of Sigmar in close combat is folly; to attack barehanded, now that is madness." The reason he dropped Percy so rudely was because Grover was massaging his wounded knuckles.
"By the gods, I thought hitting skin was hard, but your skin felt like I was hitting a rock."
The figure looked at him and said, "Speak, Selinoi, how can the children of Pan be so far from the sacred forests of their god when this world doesn't even possess a gateway to other realms?"
Grover at this point: "How did you know about Pan?"
The figure ignored the question and then said back to him, "I am surprised a creature like you can even speak."
Grover, at this bit, a little offended, said, "Of course I can talk; I'm a satyr."
"I know what you are, but I'm baffled that you can speak English." The figure went on to say, "Speak; I cannot feel the taint of chaos on you; deem yourself blessed that I am not going to just kill you to make sure you don't fall to the four."
Grover was not going to ask him about that; he thought back to what it had asked him and then said, "Well, I start talking about Hades, and you bring up the Christian end of the world stuff."
The figure then said, "Perhaps your thinking is limited by your?" He paused for a moment to glance at Grover's legs before he found the right word. "Your questionable ancestry," he finished.
Grover wasn't going to convince him that his life was worth too much because this person had just insulted every Satyr in two words. Grover was aware that swallowing his pride was preferable to showing up as the mess on the ground. But the other Satyrs, on the other hand, weren't so smart as they all
Fortunately, when one of the figure's associates shouted out to him, the universe intervened on his behalf. The figure turned his attention to the noisy distraction, giving Grover a moment to gather his thoughts and steady his nerves.
"Palamedes!" Prometheus yelled out, his voice solid as steel, as he stared at the Stormcast. "Stop antagonizing the son of Poseidon and his satyr companion. And tell me, what is the meaning of this? I didn't call for any assistance."
"He has ordered us to bring you back to Azyr." Palamedes answered.
The Titan's eyes narrowed, not taking the answer well as he felt a pang of frustration, but working as Sigmar's advisor for a thousand years had taught him that Sigmar was not one to be easily swayed by emotion. Instead, he steadied his breath, reminding himself that patience was often the key to unlocking the truth behind Sigmar's decisions.
"Does Sigmar doubt my capability in negotiating with the Olympian gods? he said, his voice steady despite the underlying frustration.
"He doubts that you could control your hatred for the Olympian gods." The hunter vanguard corrected bluntly, "The god king is concerned that you may act rashly and imperil his , your order will still stand until we are ordered otherwise, my lord."
Prometheus clenched his fists and snarled; Sigmar desired a more polite way to communicate with the Greek gods. Is Sigmar aware that speaking with the Olympian gods can only be accomplished through a show of force? You can only win over despots on Ayzer's terms by bringing them down. Not Zeus's.
Before Prometheus was about to say a word, suddenly, out of nowhere, the sky cracked with thunder. Everyone looked up to see a large storm had formed in the distance.
"Looks like Dad wants everyone back at Olympus," huffed Dionysus; he then turned to look at Prometheus. "I can't imagine why."
"Dionysus, this is serious," interjected Chiron.
"Of course it's serious," snorted the god of wine.
The three of them kept their gaze fixed on Prometheus despite his irritated face. As they adjusted themselves and saw the Titan's fury build, the trio took a step back.
"Anyway, I'd better head to Olympus for that meeting Dad called," stated Dionysus, but before he could move, Prometheus spoke up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Inquired Prometheus as he stormed right up to Dionysus, "Don't think I forgot our conversation a moment ago."
"I didn't forget, but in case you haven't noticed, my dad is calling me right now."
The Titan of foresight didn't much as blink. "Oh, I did, but we weren't finished talking."
"Well, that's something Dad wants to know," answered the god of wine. "Now if you excuse m—"
"No, you listen, Dionysus," cut off Prometheus as he pointed at the short deity. "If Zeus thinks he had more of a right to find out about this boy's past, he's insane. Just because he's the king of Olympus doesn't mean he has more rights than we all do. This is his life, and I'm not going to let the tyrant screw it up."
The Titan of Foresight took a second to breathe before continuing, "So here's what's going to happen: What you're going to do is send a little message and tell him to wait tomorrow like a good little king until Heron explains what the chaos is going on."
Multiple campers were silent, as were Chiron and Annabeth, unable to believe that Prometheus had the gall to speak like that to a god. Right in his own face. Even Dionysus was taken aback by the sheer demand from the Titan. However, the god's expression quickly turned sour.
Dionysus narrowed his eyes as they suddenly started to glow. "Who's Zeus's name? Do you think you are talking to me like—GAH?"
He didn't even finish his sentence before Prometheus grabbed him by his throat and lifted him into the air. The deity gasped as the Titan's wrist was choked from the tight grip; his face was in line with Prometheus's. Dionysus's face went to shock as he couldn't feel the ground anymore, his legs kicking slightly while the air was cut off from his lungs.
"I'm not in the mood for your godly nonsense, Dionysus." Titan, enraged, clamped down his fist; the god of wine and Titan of foresight locked eyes. "So you're going to deliver an important message for me. A single message for Zeus and the other Olympians, while the other is intended for Hestia. Do you understand?
The god of wine nodded rapidly.
"Inform Zeus that his daughter and her hunters are now guests of mine and when the child awakes from his coma, she will be released unharmed once he wakes up. However, an Olympian—one Olympian—who dares to descend that mountain in the sky to inquire about the boy's birth I will kill all of their mortal lovers and offspring, from newborns to adults, and burn them all to the ground. Starting with the son of Poseidon and the daughter of Zeus. I will ensure that no trace of their existence remains. The winds shall carry their names far away, and the very earth beneath their feet will forget their presence, leaving only silence. And you will never see your precious daughter or her hunters ever again."
"Prometheus, what are you—?"
"I, Prometheus, the Titan of foresight,and the king of Azyr's personal advisor, am sick and tired of the hypocrisy of the Olympian gods, thinking that wisdom would win out in the end. Instead, I ought to have been harsher in my earlier attempts to expose their mistakes and more strict in dealing with their insignificant plots against humanity. No longer."
"Lord Prometheus, please see reason," began Chiron, trying to dispel the tension but failing horribly.
"SILENCE!" snapped the Titan of foresight before tightening his grip around Dionysus' throat. The flames within the firepit soon became pillars of fire that danced wildly, reflecting the intensity of the Titan's fury. The Vanguard-Hunters tensed, ready to intervene if necessary, but some hesitated, uncertain of the consequences of the Titan's wrath.
"Now, you better deliver that message, Dionysus, because if I find out you don't, you're going to have a front-row seat to the destruction of the entire Greek pantheon."
Prometheus held up his left hand and created an axe of pure fire in his palm, causing the god to widen slightly. "Do you want a demonstration?"
Dionysus, struggling to breathe, glanced down between the axe and the Titan's eyes, seeing the dead seriousness in them. Plus, the fact they were glowing faintly red was all he needed. He nodded fervently, sweat beading on his brow.
"I-I'll deliver it," he gasped, his eyes wide with fear, struggling to get some air. "And for Hestia?"
The Titan's rage halted, then turned to barely restrained anger as his grip on the god of wine gradually lessened. "Tell her that I pray that her lover, Lord Cipher, choose the right woman to bear his child and be the mother of his son."
Initially perplexed by the Titan's statement, the deity of wine's eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates upon uttering such words. However, he swiftly deduced the meaning when he remembered that Heron had informed them that he had been trained by Cipher. But it was a lie, one woven with threads of deception that sent ripples through the god's mind. A shadow of doubt flickered in the deity's thoughts as a shocking revelation dawned on him.
His father didn't ask Cipher to train his son. Heron's father is Cipher!
Prometheus dropped Dionysus, who fell to the ground, letting out a string of coughs as he held his throat. He glowered at the god as his feet, lowering his left hand and allowing the fire axe to flicker out.
"Now leave, and tell them I'm not the same person that they once knew," demanded the Titan as he turned away from the god and started towards the Stormcasts. All the campers and counselors alike immediately stepped aside to make a path so as to avoid the Titan's wrath.
Meanwhile, Zhou, Anatoly, and Elodie just watched him go by as if it were a summer breeze. Unfazed by what they just witnessed.
"Damn, it's been a while since I saw Prometheus let loose," commented the dragon-blooded as he folded his arms. "I hope his rage for the Olympian gods didn't override his diplomatic instincts."
"You mean besides what he said?" scoffed Anatoly, though he admits that seeing Prometheus this mad was pretty rare. It reminded him of the last time the titan got angry; it was during the War on the Peaks when he throttled Negash, giving the god of death a permanent injury, and later the battle against Kragnos, the earth shaker, where he held off the earth shaker when Alarielle and Lord Koak re-imprisoned him.
Anatoly shuddered at the memory, feeling the weight of that chaos wash over him again. "If we're not careful, we might find ourselves in another situation just as perilous," he warned, his expression turning serious as he considered the implications of Prometheus's fury.
Elodie, on the other hand, appeared uncomfortable when Sigmar's personal advisor disappeared in a flash of lightning, taking him back to the realm of Azyr.
The entire council room was silent, having heard Dionysus's story; however, it was safe to say that Zeus looked absolutely furious, while Hestia looked completely shocked and actually hurt by what was told to them. Prometheus just basically threatened Zeus that if he dares to do anything, he'll personally burn everything they had built to the ground. Granted, it was true that he was angry at them for what they had done to his family, but the ruthless and appalling form he did it in was what really got the god's attention. However, for those who listened to the second, they were all shocked to hear Prometheus's revelation.
Hestia's lover is Cipher, Olympus's number one enemy, with whom she had a son.
"How dare he!" roared Zeus in pure outrage as his face turned red with fury, the sky around Mount Olympus cracked with thunder, and lightning flashed in the background. As Zeus swore up a storm, quite literally, the rest of the gods were just silent as they looked at Dionysus with just shock.
"Oh, this is not good," breathed Apollo, finally getting the ability to speak, running his hand through his hair.
"We're sure this isn't the pacifist Titan that Pops knew and loved," said Ares; even he was taken aback by what was told from Dionysus.
However, while the gods and goddesses thought about what they had just heard, Hestia finally got over her shock and surprise. Taking a deep breath, she started towards the council doors. It obviously didn't go unnoticed by any of the gods, even Zeus, who directed his attention to his older sister.
"Where are you going, Hestia?" demanded the King of Olympus.
"To speak with my lover, Zeus," replied Hestia as she stopped where she was.
"No, you will not do any such thing," stated the King. "That fiend must pay for what he did!"
"No!" snapped the sister, glaring right at the King of Olympus; the hearth in the center of the room burst into fire, shooting a column up. Zeus actually shrank back under the enraged older sister.
"Prometheus is keeping our children prisoner, despite the harsh and offensive things he said. His voice was serious, and you could hear it. He will not only kill all of our children without hesitation but also inflict pain on my niece if we act hastily and attempt to confront him directly. Whatever had happened to him—I don't know—what made him vicious? But according to Prometheus, my beloved would disapprove of what he did. If that's true, then that could be the secret to forcing him and his troops to stand down without risking the lives of our kin."
A cold, wintery breeze blew open the chamber doors, sweeping into the council room. All Olympian eyes turn to regard the intruder.
Athena, with the mask of a master politician but scowled, seeing no philosopher or poet but a warrior of warriors, as the figure aura of strength and valor enveloped him.
Ares is smiling, feeling bold courage, ferocity, strength, and resilience radiating from this intruder in waves as every fiber of his being as a war god is screaming to fight this man.
Demeter, goddess of the harvest, felt her skin crawl as the frost came over her, the feel of warmth now gone and like a plant is feeling the effects of the winterly wind.
Apollo is having a difficult time keeping himself warm, even though he is the sun god, his teeth were chitterling like a chatterbox.
Since Aphrodite was wearing an exposing garment today and her ex-husband was emitting heat, she drew nearer to Hephaestus and embraced him to shield herself.
Hera kept up a strong front, trying to look not bothered by the cold, her hands clenching the end of her armchair tightly.
Poseidon was no better off than the rest of his nephews and nieces as ice started to form around his feet, but he showed no reaction that would be the same with his brother, who didn't want to look weak.
They take in the powerful human form wrapped in the pelt of the great wolf and chainmail shirt. Tan breeches tucked into boots complete the ensemble, and a mighty axe is leaned against one shoulder—much like how the boy below carries his hammer. A wild gray beard decorates his weathered face, and bright blue eyes stare at her, the hungry wolf he wears as a cloak, while his crown is bare hair.
Standing up from his throne, Zeus let out a bellowing in a threatening tone, "Who dares enter this domain!?" The echo of his voice reverberated through the entire council chamber.
The stranger stayed silent, not taking his eyes off of Hestia, and from the man's face, a wolf's eyes gazed back at her, pinning her to the ground and observing her every action for signs of weakness. It is very different from the look of even the wolves her niece's hunters kept as pets; they are more ferocious and predatory, as though they are viewing everyone as a scared baby in front of their teeth. She makes an effort to suppress the tiny shiver of anxiety that is running down her back.
I am not prey! She thinks to herself, trying to force her decorum back into place. It's only when she realizes that almost a full minute has passed in silence that she manages to shake off the paralyzing fear exuded by the god before her.
"So... this is the mother that the pup came from," the god rumbles, sending the winter's breath every time he opens his mouth.
Feeling the bite of the ice, the Goddess of Hearth—who takes great pleasure in being in charge of the holy hearth—shivered because of the cold for the first time in her life.
"Are you the one who my son called out during his battle against that horrid... beast?" The Goddess attempts to fix him with her most stern gaze; however, the stranger was barely fazed by her demeanor. Instead the stranger found it amusing that the little goddess was trying to be intimidating and let out a soft chuckle.
"Aye, I am, and I assure you, I am no mere mortal to be intimidated. My name is Ulric, God of Wolves, winter, and war. I didn't believe Prometheus's stories until I saw you with my own eyes." He replied calmly, a flicker of mirth in his eyes. "Your son may be brave, but the young pup still has much time to grow before he can truly embody the strength of his lineage. I have seen countless warriors rise and fall, yet the heart of a true leader is forged in the fires of adversity." Ulric's gaze turned serious, reflecting the weight of his words as he contemplated the challenges that lay ahead for the young hero.
"How did you know about Prometheus?" Athena inquires with arrogance almost surfacing within her voice tone. Her face twisted into a sneer at the barbarian god.
"That firechuker and I met on the same day Sigmar freed him, before you wretches could feed him to your pet eagle. He used to smile more back then too. Not to mention compassionate towards humanity. I think that is why Sigmar likes him so much more than all of the other gods he had met in this realm."
"And who is this... Sigmar?" Poseidon asked, leaning forward from his throne next to his brother's."Based on the sound of your voice, you make him sound like a
"You may recognize him as Cipher, but that was his previous alias on Terra. His true name is Sigmar Heldenhammer, the ascended god of civilization and development, the patron deity of humanity. Most of all, he is the lover of your older sister." Hestia's breath suddenly hitched, not believing what she was hearing. Heldan. Her Heldan is a god. That would make her son... a god, a being of immense power shaped by two divine and divine heritage.
The realization sent a wave of confusion and awe through her as she struggled to reconcile the man she loved with the mythic legacy he carried. Hephaestus could see Hestia was still in shock at this new revelation that she was barely listening to what Ulric was saying.
"The lord of Azyr, and the free cities of Sigmar's that have settled over the mortal realms. He instills a sense of hope and ambition in his followers, motivating them to strive for excellence and togetherness in the face of hardship. Sigmar's lessons, as a symbol of resilience, highlight the value of collaboration and creativity in creating a better future for all under his rule. Unlike your little brother, who's paranoid about the threats lurking in every shadow, like a certain cowardly brother of mine, Sigmar would compromise, bringing reason to your world; through great deeds and wise words, he gained the undying loyalty from friends and foes alike."
"Bullshit," a snide and extremely unwelcome voice scoffs from one of the thrones. All eyes turn towards Aries, who was leaning back heavily into his throne.
Ulric merely turns to glare at the bold man in the biker's jacket with a sneer of such hatred that the goddess of hearth beside him shuffles to the side in discomfort. She felt the winter bite getting stronger.
"Yes, Aries?" Zeus says in the serene manner of one suppressing their annoyance. For her nephew is indeed... a warmonger of impressive proportions.
The perfect example was the Korean War. Even though it wasn't quite as bloody as the previous two, her nephew had his fill of bloodlust for a couple of decades after that. He reveled in the chaos, stirring conflicts with a fervor that left many nations in turmoil.
"If this Sigmar is indeed as powerful a warrior god as this individual claims, why didn't he refrain from fighting us in a "real" battle? Why did the bastard spend so much time hiding who he was? A real god of war would welcome the fight rather than lurk in the shadows.
Aries doesn't have the breath remaining to finish his sentence. Not because he ran out of it with his rant; the man is a noted windbag and can go on for hours without seeming to have taken a breath. No, he was silenced because a certain well-grown wolf god lost his temper and crossed the room in three quick strides. His fist closes around the Greek god of war's throat like a vice, choking him off with an indignant squawk! the angry real war god snarls like the wolf he wore, lifting the biker off the throne with a single arm.
"No, you insufferable fool!" Ulric roared.
"The reason Sigmar didn't confront you all is because you all bear the blood of a coward and knew the consequences of having such a cursed lineage join his fragile position all the while he launched a campaign to reclaim the realms that were lost during the age of chaos. Creators breathe! Archaon would have led the legions to Terra and destroyed its civilizations before advancing on the rest of the mortal lands we have protected for millions of years. The Duardin and dwarfs in their holds, the Aelvesm Slvaneth and elves in the forests, islands, and the realm of Hysh, bountiful Ghyran, rich Chamon... All of it would have burned under their feet if we had failed." The god of wolves turns crimson with rage, his voice booming in his anger.
The Ares caught in his grip turns purple and then blue, his legs shaking in the air as the fist tightens further. Blizzard hurricane-force winds pinned the gathered gods firmly to their thrones, so none of them dared to move—not out of fear of receiving the same wrath, but because it was impossible to get up.
All except one.
A gentle touch rests on Ulric's arm, the kind that is more suited to domestic duties than combat. The wild wolf's eyes turn to take in the goddess beside him, Hestia's face set in a stern expression, giving a firm shake of her head as the fire pit begins heating up the chamber, clashing against the winter's frost, melting the ice into steam. Turning the chamber into a sauna. Seeing that Hestia won't back down, Ulric releases the god of war from his grasp with a nod. While everyone else is still getting up off the ground, nothing stops him from smashing into the floor like a sack of potatoes; the entirety of the room stares at him like a deer in the headlights, fear oozing in waves. Ulric moves away from the deity in a coma and looks up at King with expressionless eyes.
"What did you just say?" demanded Zeus, completely putting aside his anger with Ulric in favor of this new development.
"Your father and Sigmar knew each other once, but he betrayed him and tried to destroy everything Sigmar had built in the pursuit for power," Ulric hissed, unflinchingly looking Zeus in the eyes. "The only reason you're still on that throne is that Sigmar was concerned with other problems that demanded his attention until he fell in love with your sister and fathered a child with her. So he's ready to ignore your "complicated history" in favor of a more peaceful solution, King to King."
"What is his proposal then?" demanded the king of Olympus, "Tell me what this 'king of Azyr' wanted me to speak to me that he would send a god such as you."
Instead of answering, Ulric created an object of ice in his hands. The object soon became darker for a second before receding and revealing a scroll that was given to him by the god king of Azyr upon returning from Terra with a message for Zeus.
"This message is for the eyes of the King of Olympus only," he held up the scroll for all to see. The war hammer's seal was on the paper. It was composed of beeswax and exhibited a red hue that underscored the significance of the information contained within. As the gathered gods hushed in anticipation, curiosity spread among them, wondering what news could be so important as to warrant a private audience with the king of the gods.
Zeus, who had a piercing scowl on his face, giving the god of winter the most extreme look that would make lesser humans cringe, appeared unconcerned by the coolness in the air. Pushing himself off his throne, he marched up to Ulric, who had made him, the king of Olympus, appear weak in front of his court. This insult cannot go unpunished; however, his curiosity won out.
He examined the scroll, which was made of treated and scraped animal skin, carefully, looking for signs of deceit but found only harsh honesty something that is rare. Zeus removed the scroll from the winter god's hands. After breaking the seal, the king of Olympus opened the scroll and read it with a frown. It was an invitation to speak to face to face. They are allowed to bring two people with them, but only in New York, in his territory and he will choose what time they meet; however, Sigmar will decide the place where they'll meet and negotiate an agreement.
Although the paranoid part of his mind was warning him that this could be one of Cipher's tricks, a trap to lure him into a place of false security like he had done so many times in the past, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something undeniably real about the message he had received.
The urgency in the words tugged at his instincts, compelling him to investigate further despite the risks involved. Not only that, but it also said that he might know the culprit who stole his master bolt! If this is true, then this Sigmar may now know the name of the one who stole it.
"What is your answer... God, king of the west?" demanded Ulric, bringing the king of Olympus out of his thoughts.
The entire council room was silent for a moment as the Olympian gods waited for Zeus's reply, many wondering what he was reading as the king of Olympus was dead silent. Many suspected that Zeus struck the insolent god down.
To their surprise, Zeus calmly rolled the scroll back up and gave it back into Ulric's hand. "Tell Sigmar I agree to his terms and will meet him before the summer solstice." Zeus proclaimed. "And if you dare make me weak in front of my brothers and my court again, I will strike you down without a second thought."
Ulric said nothing, only nodded, and disappear in a blizzard leaving only spot of frost as evidence of his presence.
"This meeting is over!" Zeus ordered before disappearing in a large flash of lighting.
Iolaos stood on the beach watching the sun go down. He had witnessed numerous sunsets during his long hours on watch. After becoming acclimated to it, the sea raider no longer thought the sight beautiful; in fact, he couldn't think of anything attractive about the enormous blazing ball in the sky. That part of the man died on the day he was brought into this world when he was betrayed by the man he once called brother. It was that betrayal that led him to the blood god in the first place. Now a vicious raider who pillaged and burned sea villages and ports along the coast of Achronia.
His heart had hardened like the steel of his blade, fueled by a relentless thirst for vengeance and power. Each village he laid waste to served as both an offering to the blood god and a twisted reminder of the loyalty he had once cherished, now replaced by an insatiable hunger for destruction, earning the title Iolaos, the Crimson Tide.
The crimson tide was not merely a title; it was a testament to the chaos that followed in his wake. As Iolaos strode through the aftermath of his fury, the echoes of despair and despairing cries clung to him like a dark shroud, whispering that there could be no redemption in a world steeped in blood.
It was once a prosperous fishing village where a dozen or so villagers once lived in harmony with the sea, relying on its bounty for sustenance. Unfortunately, that was until he and his men came, and the tides of fortune began to shift; he and his men either killed as sacrifices to the true gods to gain their favor or brought the inhabitants into slavery, effectively destroying the entire community forever. Leaving the entire village in ruins, the once vibrant homes now stood as hollow shells, echoing the laughter and warmth that had once filled the air. The sea, once a source of life, now reflected the sorrow and despair of a community lost, its waves crashing against the shore like the lamentations of those who had been taken from their rightful place.
The rest of his army was camped on the beach in front of the realm gate leading to Terra, waiting around it; the small fleet was anchored along the sandy shore, waiting for the tide to turn, and galley slaves were mucking about under heavy guard in case any of them tried to escape.
"He approaches." Iolaos glanced to the corner of his eye to see one of his sea raiders pointing to the Realm Gate.
Iolaos turned to look down the realm gate to see a cloaked figure walking towards them. In little time at all, the shape transformed into that of a hooded figure, approaching them. Fear may have crept up Iolaos's spine if he weren't a beastman when he saw the servant of the changer of ways approaching him menacingly. Knowing full well that whatever happened on Terra ended in failure. And that someone is going to die tonight in a very horrible way.
Hopefully this time it would be a common slave this time.
The man looked in his forties, but Iolaos knew he was far older. Most of his features were shrouded in black darkness, making the man look like a living shadow; if not for the two red eyes, people would think he was some kind of shadow demon. Strange to think the monster heading toward him was ever human. In reality it was a human under that shadowy cloak who had given his body and soul to Tzeentch. Now, he walked with an eerie grace, each step echoing with the weight of countless sacrifices. Iolaos felt a chill run down his spine, knowing that this creature, once a man, was now a vessel for chaos, wielding power that could unravel the very fabric of reality.
"Iolaos, tell your warriors to board the 's time for us to leave before the Acheronians figure out where we are." With a powerful yet distorted voice, the figure gave the order. And without question, Iolaos did as he was ordered, shouting out instructions to his men.
They responded with urgency, their armor clinking as they hurried to gather their weapons and supplies, ready to set sail into the unknown.
Seeing that no one was brave enough to ask their leader, Iolaos stepped forward. "I take it that the cyclops' plan didn't work." said Iolaos, the hooded figure paused for a second before nodded, his hidden face mirroring his disappointment, his right hand balling around his bow, knowing full well that the cyclopes plan failed.
"Camp Half-Blood is still standing. Like I knew it would. The Sigmarites are now on to us. The plan would have worked if the Stormcasts hadn't stumbled upon the warherd. Fortunately, it wasn't all a waste."
Iolaos raised a single eyebrow at the Ithican's statement. "Oh, why is that?"
"There were no lightning bolts shooting down from the sky, but thunder cracking in the clouds, except for Sigmar's."
"So?"
"When does thunder crack with no bolt of lightning in sight?"
"Never." Iolaos's voice trailed off for a second before a smile appeared on the former Sheridan's face.
"The king of Olympus has lost his master bolt."
"Exactly, fate has at last finally given us the chance to gain our revenge. Right at the same time, the skaven laid the seeds of ruination upon the Mortal Realms."
"Now what? I doubt the one-eyed freak would be crying over the brayherd he lent us, but he would have our head after finding out that we lost two of his pet projects."
"He can keep his money. The cyclops' devotion to the titans left him too focused on pleasing his master to free himself from his prison in Tartarus to notice the danger that lurked before him; he believes us mere pawns to move on a game board, but I, for one, am sick and tired of being a pawn of uncaring gods. The beastmen will keep the Sigmirtes busy long enough for us to get to sea. We will stop at an island in the Ionian chain to replenish our supplies and raid the fishing villages that would satisfy the men before setting sail toward Assuwa and, eventually, Hattusa."
"Ahhh a nice choice, the ports of the kingdom of stone would be plentiful this time of year. Ships full of gold from mines and diamonds from Ind!" Some of his men raised their heads smiling at the prospect of raiding merchant shipping.
"Why are we really heading to Hattusa, though? I doubt it's for the riches. We already have an abundance of slaves on board. Any more slaves, and we'll have to throw some overboard to make more room."
"A messenger from the Three-eyed king. He said that the hour of our vengeance has arrived."
The blond-haired raider suddenly paused than smiled, filled with bloodlust, realizing what the man was referring to. "About damn time; I thought the Skaven would never stop stabbing each other in the back."
The stranger said nothing but nodded and gestured for Iolaos to follow him. Within half an hour the tides came in, carrying the fleet out to sea.
Darth-Cerdac: Working on it.
Gemini134:Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.
Guest: Yes indeed Prometheus has returned to earth and for good reason too however you can say he's isn't happy in meeting
Code Viper: In Warhammer fantasy mercy is a luxury that people could ill afford.
Guest: Thank you for your support man.
U.N.S: I watch those trailers ever time I write this story.
Guest: Angry, upset, betrayed, hurt choose your pick.
Guest: Yes, the Titans are well aware of the gods of Chaos, and although Kronos is a monster, he still has principles; hence, he will not form an alliance with the gods of Chaos. Even though they want to return humanity to the Bronze Age, Kronos would never make a deal with the chaos gods. So no Titan and Chaos alliance, thank you very much; however, that doesn't mean their servants would be willing to work together to use each other, though.
jmknz777: Thank you for your support.
SpadeKingform: Again thank you.
JustFam: Thank you for the complement still trying to work on my grammar sadly.