Chapter 247: Chapter 5
The private chambers of Olympus glowed with a soft golden light, filtered through gauzy curtains that swayed gently in the mountain breeze.
The air carried the scent of ambrosia and honeysuckle, mingled with faint thunder still lingering from Zeus’s presence.
On the vast bed carved from clouds and silver marble, Zeus, King of the Gods, leaned close to his wife, Metis, the Titaness of Wisdom.
His lips curved into a roguish grin, his eyes flickering like lightning in a summer storm as he murmured something flirtatious that made the clever goddess laugh softly, her tone melodic and calm.
Metis, graceful even in repose, brushed a strand of gold from his face and teasingly remarked that if he spent half as much time ruling wisely as he did flattering her, Olympus might have already achieved eternal peace.
Zeus responded with a dramatic groan and an exaggerated pout, saying that ruling wisely was her job, while his job was to keep her distracted enough to forget about politics for at least an hour.
Their playful banter filled the air, when suddenly then — tap, tap.
A sharp noise interrupted their bliss. Both turned toward the tall, gold-framed window, where a crow, black as the abyss, its feathers shimmering with faint violet light, perched on the edge of the marble balcony.
Its beady eyes glowed faintly as it stared inside, unblinking and utterly still.
Zeus’ mood immediately soured. The vein on his forehead pulsed as his divine aura surged, faint sparks of lightning dancing across his skin.
"A crow?" he muttered with disdain, raising a hand. "How dare some filthy bird intrude upon the chamber of the King of—"
But before he could unleash his wrath, Metis caught his wrist gently. Her calm voice, as cool and composed as moonlight, stopped him.
"Wait," she said softly, her wise eyes narrowing as she studied the bird. "Crows are not ordinary creatures, my love. They are messengers of Hecate. If one has come here, it is not by chance."
Zeus exhaled through his nose, visibly trying to restrain himself. The lightning around his hand flickered and died, though his annoyance remained clear.
"Hecate," he muttered, folding his arms, "that witch really loves her dramatics, always meddling with cryptic messages and riddles. Can’t she ever send Hermes like everyone else?"
Metis smiled faintly, the corners of her lips curving in quiet amusement. "If she did, she wouldn’t be Hecate."
As if to confirm her words, the crow’s eyes began to glow faintly with a cold, silvery light.
When it spoke, its voice was unmistakably that of Hecate, smooth, calm, but carrying that eerie undertone that made even the gods uneasy.
"Greetings, Zeus. Greetings, Metis," came the voice, echoing slightly as though it drifted through the veil between worlds. "Forgive me for interrupting your... delightful recreation."
Zeus twitched slightly, while Metis stifled a knowing smile. Hecate’s tone carried just enough mischief to make her chuckle, which just annoyed Zeus as she reminds him that they were interrupted when things were about to get good.
The crow continued, "Hades, Lord of the Underworld, has called for a council of the Twelve Olympians. You are all to gather in the Underworld in three days’ time. He has an announcement of great importance—one that concerns not just Olympus, but the fate of all realms."
Then, without waiting for reply, the crow tilted its head, let out a final "Caw!", and vanished into a wisp of shadow, leaving behind only the faint scent of incense and the uneasy silence of divine tension.
Zeus stood there for a long moment, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He could feel thunder rumbling faintly outside, responding instinctively to the shift in his mood.
"I should have blasted it," he muttered darkly, though there was no real conviction in his tone.
Metis stepped closer, the white silk of her robe rustling softly as she moved.
"You know better," she said, her gaze thoughtful. "If Hecate sent a message through her familiars, then something serious must be stirring. Hades rarely interferes with the affairs of Olympus, let alone summon the entire Twelve. Whatever this is, it’s not trivial."
Zeus ran a hand through his golden hair, frustration shadowing his handsome features.
"I don’t like it," he said finally. "Hades has always kept to his realm. If he’s calling us down there, it means something has gone wrong, something he can’t solve."
There was a strange silence at that. Even the thunder outside faded.
Zeus does not like his brother, and he made no effort to hide the fact. It wasn’t hate nor anything malicious, it was just pure jealousy and pride.
Hades possessed strength Zeus can only dreamed of, and the woman he had loved—Hera—had chosen him and followed him to underworld.
But for all the jealousy and dislikes, Zeus acknowledged one thing; Hades was strong.
In Zeus mind, Hades was the strongest creature in all of creation, stronger than even those lofty Primordials.
Due to that strength, Zeus was completely carefree, believing that no matter how bad the universe gets, his brother would be there solve it.
One can say, it was because of Hades that Zeus completely disregards all restraints.
But...if even this Hades needed them for something, then there must be something serious going on, so serious that even Hades who keeps to himself has asked to meet them.
Metis’s sharp eyes glinted.
"And that frightens you," she said gently, not as accusation but as fact. "Because if even Hades cannot handle it..."
"Then it may be something no god, titan, nor primordial can," Zeus finished for her, his jaw tightening.
He turned toward the window, looking down at the world below — the mortal realm bathed in twilight, unaware of the brewing storm among their gods.
His reflection flickered faintly against the glass: the face of the King of Olympus, but behind the arrogance, there was a rare, quiet seriousness.
"Still," he murmured, slipping into his white robe, the folds of fabric glowing faintly with divine radiance, "I wonder just what in all of cosmos can make that brother of mine completely willing to reach out to Olympus."
He looked back at Metis, who regarded him with calm understanding.
"Tell me," he said, his voice softer now, "what do you think this is about?"
Metis stepped closer, laying a hand over his heart.
"I don’t know," she admitted, her gaze distant. "I really can’t think of anything in this existence that can even threaten Lord Hades."
Zeus’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest rumble echoing across Olympus.
"Then so be it," he said. "We will see what that brooding brother of mine wants."
He turned his gaze once more to the heavens, where clouds were gathering, thunder rolling lazily across the horizon, not in anger, but anticipation.
And though he would never say it aloud, deep within the thunder god’s chest, something unfamiliar stirred, it was not pride, not jealousy, but a flicker of unease.
Because if Hades, the god who ruled death itself, had found something worth summoning the Olympians for...
Then perhaps even the King of the Gods had reason to fear.