Zeus stepped forward.

Should’ve been simple. One foot, then the other. He’d done it a million times. Walked battlefields, walked thrones, walked into wars he had no business walking out of.

But this time—something pushed back.

Not hard. Not enough to stop him. Just... resistance. Like the space in front of him wasn’t fully sold on the idea that he should be there.

His foot touched the ground anyway. The white plain dipped slightly under him. Not cracking. Just lowering a fraction, like it had to think about it first.

Zeus paused.

"...You feel that?" he muttered.

Metis took her time answering. She was watching his foot. Then his shadow. Then the way the light around him bent just a little too late.

"...Yes," she said.

Zeus shifted his weight. The ground responded again. A slow, subtle adjustment. Like it was correcting itself after he moved.

He let out a quiet breath through his nose.

"...That’s new."

"It’s not just the ground," Metis said.

He glanced at her. She pointed up.

The sky wasn’t still. It never was anymore. The cracks had widened—thin lines at first, now thicker, deeper. Some curved in ways that didn’t make sense. Others just hung there, like cuts that refused to close.

Lightning flickered through one of them. Not his lightning. Something else.

He didn’t like that.

"...Everything feels off," he said.

Metis looked at him. "Not everything."

He already knew what she meant. He looked down at his hand again. Black lightning curled around his fingers like it belonged there. Not wild. Not loud. Just steady. Too steady.

It moved when he didn’t tell it to. Slid between his knuckles. Wrapped around his wrist. Then settled.

Waiting.

Zeus clenched his fist. The air around it tightened. Not visibly. But he felt it. Like reality itself held its breath for a second. Then let go.

"...Yeah," he said quietly. "I noticed."

Metis didn’t look away. "You didn’t let it go."

He gave a short laugh. "Didn’t feel like something I could drop on the floor."

"That’s not what I mean."

He turned to her. She held his gaze this time.

"You didn’t come back the same."

Zeus didn’t answer right away. Because she wasn’t wrong. He could feel it. Something under his skin. Not moving. Not restless. Just there. Like a second presence. Not separate. Not fully. But not him either.

He exhaled slowly. "...I’m still me."

Metis didn’t nod. Didn’t argue. She just watched.

That was worse.

Zeus looked away first. Bad habit.

He took another step. Same resistance. Stronger this time. Not enough to stop him. Enough to notice.

He frowned. "...Okay."

He pushed forward harder. Not physically. With will. The space in front of him twisted. For a split second, the ground didn’t exist where his foot was about to land. Then it snapped back.

Zeus stopped walking.

"...Yeah," he muttered. "That’s definitely not good."

A faint sound brushed past his ear. So light he almost missed it. Almost.

It wasn’t wind. Wasn’t a voice. It was something. A thought that didn’t belong to him. Not clear. Not words. Just a feeling. Old. Endless. Watching.

Zeus tilted his head slightly. "...You hear that?" he asked.

Metis went still. "No."

He stayed quiet. Listened. There it was again. Faint. Distant. Like something speaking from underwater. He couldn’t make out what it was saying. But it wasn’t random. It was patient. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Zeus clicked his tongue. "...Not dealing with that right now."

The feeling didn’t leave. But it pulled back. Like it understood.

That annoyed him more than anything.

Behind them, the battlefield was still moving. Not fighting. Working.

Athena stood a short distance away, her eyes moving constantly. She wasn’t looking at people. She was watching everything else. The ground. The air. The edges of the sky. Patterns. Failures.

She crouched slightly, touching the surface of the plain. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the space around her hand flickered. Like a reflection glitching.

She pulled back instantly. "...No," she said under her breath.

Hermes appeared beside her. "Please tell me that was nothing."

"It wasn’t nothing."

"Great."

Athena stood, turning slightly as her gaze swept the horizon. "...This structure is failing faster than I thought."

Hermes frowned. "Define ’faster.’"

She didn’t look at him. "Faster than we can fix."

That shut him up.

Thor dragged a massive piece of broken Heaven into place with a grunt, muscles straining. "Where d’you want this?" he called.

"Not there," Athena snapped.

Thor froze mid-step. "...Then where?"

Athena pointed. "Three degrees left. If you put it there, it’ll overlap a fault line."

Thor blinked. "...I don’t know what that means."

"Just move it left."

"...That I can do."

He shifted. The moment he placed it down—the air around it warped. Just slightly. But enough.

The structure held. For now.

Athena exhaled slowly. "...Temporary," she said.

Hermes crossed his arms. "You keep saying that."

"Because it keeps being true."

Another flicker. Higher this time. A crack in the sky pulsed. Once. Twice. Then spread. Not fast. Not slow. Just inevitable.

Athena’s jaw tightened. "This isn’t over." Not loud. Not dramatic. Just certain.

Hermes followed her gaze. "...Yeah," he muttered. "I figured."

Zeus heard it. Of course he did. He always did.

He looked up again. The cracks were getting worse. Not just wider. Deeper. Like something behind them was pushing outward.

He flexed his hand. Black lightning answered instantly. No hesitation. No delay. It coiled tighter this time. More responsive. More aware.

Zeus frowned slightly. "...You getting comfortable?" he murmured.

No answer. Not directly. But the faint whisper brushed past his mind again. Closer now. Not louder. Clearer.

He caught a fragment this time. Not words. Meaning. Shape. Something like—

more

Zeus’s expression hardened. "...Yeah," he said quietly. "Not today."

He pushed it down. Not suppressed. Just ignored. It didn’t fight him.

That bothered him more than if it had.

Metis saw the shift. "Something’s wrong."

Zeus shook his head. "Later problem."

"Zeus—"

"Later."

She held his gaze a second longer. Then let it go. For now.

A deep sound rolled across the field. Low. Heavy. Wrong.

Everyone felt it. Not heard. Felt.

Athena’s head snapped up. "Wait—"

Too late.

Far in the distance—a section of Heaven gave way. Not cracked. Not shifted. Collapsed. A massive stretch of the white plain folded in on itself like something had reached down and pressed it flat. Light bent inward. Space twisted. Then the whole thing dropped. Not down. Sideways. Into nothing.

The edge tore open, revealing a depth with no bottom. Angels near it screamed as they stumbled back. Some didn’t make it. They slipped. Vanished. Gone. No light. No return. Just absence.

Wukong stared. "...Yeah," he said slowly. "That’s worse than the last one."

Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir. "...What happens if more of that goes?"

Athena didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was steady. "Then we don’t have a battlefield anymore."

Hermes looked at the hole. "...What do we have?"

Athena’s eyes didn’t leave it. "Nothing stable."

Silence stretched.

Then—Zeus stepped forward again. This time, he didn’t test the ground. He forced it. The space under his feet bent. Adjusted. Accepted him. Barely.

He looked at the collapsing horizon. Then at his hand. Then back at the sky.

"...Yeah," he said. Quiet. But it carried. "This is gonna get worse."

No one argued. They could feel it too.

And far above—the cracks spread again. Slower this time. But deeper.

Like something was starting to remember how to break.