Divine Ascension: Reborn as a God of Power-Chapter 58: The Schism of Olympus (Part 18)

(1 day till the start of the war...)

It’s strange, how silent power can be.

Hecate’s palace wasn’t loud with guards or bustling with servants. It just pulsed alive with ancient magic, a heartbeat of stone and shadow nestled between realms. The torches burned with violet flame. The walls shifted with faint whispers, like secrets scratching to be heard. And above us, stars moved wrong in the sky.

I stood by the arched window of the chamber. Not out of nervousness, but more like necessity. I needed the cold on my face and the night air to clear the haze of weight settling on my chest. Tomorrow, the war begins. And tonight, we choose the shape of it.

"Look who’s already brooding." Zagreus’s voice slid up behind me, a teasing edge in every syllable.

I didn’t turn, but I could feel the smirk on his face. The son of Zeus carried himself like he had nothing to prove, and yet everything to win. But my first thought on that moment was, what is this fool doing here?

"I don’t know how you sneaked here or how they accepted you but you should be worried," I said, keeping my voice low. "Tomorrow, your family becomes your enemy."

He gave a short and dry laugh. "They were never my family. Just people who gave me orders and limited my portential."

He said that so sure of himself that I thought thay maybe there was a little of truth there, buried in bitterness, even if I didn’t believe him. But anyway, it didn’t matter if I believed him, Zagreus and I wouldn’t get along, but I thought that we could at least understand one another. We’d both chosen this path and will travel it to the last of the consequences.

Before I could answer, the air in the hall changed. It seemed thicker and charged now. So I turned to see from where this energy came from and then I saw them.

They were arriving.

Aphrodite was first. She didn’t enter, it would be more accurate to say she unfolded into the chamber like a vision carved from golden smoke. Her presence seemed to bend the space around her, every step of hers echoing with grace and seduction. But her eyes—Gods, her eyes were knives.

She looked at Zagreus with a Little of disdain. Then at me and not only her expresión changed but she smiled. "Already whispering secrets, boys?"

Zagreus offered a playful bow. "Only discussing how beautiful treason looks on you."

"I call it self-preservation," Aphrodite replied, brushing a lock of rose-gold hair from her face. "Zeus stopped valuing love the moment it stopped being useful."

Behind her came Dionysus, barefoot and lazily sipping from a goblet that never emptied. His eyes were half-lidded, his tunic unfastened at the shoulder. Tonight, he looked almost bored.

"Hope this meeting doesn’t take too long," he said, flopping into one of the thrones lining the obsidian table. "I’ve got a final party to attend. Last taste of freedom, you know."

Next was Poseidon. Sea-salt and storm seemed to follow him in. His trident clinked softly against his armored shoulder. His expression was grim and ocean-deep. He said nothing to me even if he saw me. Not because of dislike, at least I don’t think so, but distance. Of all the gods here, he had perhaps lost the most by joining Nemesis. But he’d had his reasons probably. Enough of them to break from Zeus’s court.

Then came Hestia. She was quiet, warm and her presence seemed to bring comfort even in a room bristling with sharp edges. She nodded at me as she passed. She didn’t judge me, she just acknoledged me. She seemed to expel a calm strength that held the others together with only her presence, like a flame in the middle of a war camp.

And finally, Hesperia. She didn’t look at me, at least not yet. She took her seat beside Aphrodite, her hands folded neatly on the table. But I could feel her gaze on me even when her eyes didn’t move. She certainly was observing me, maybe worried for my wellbeing or maybe for her, I wouldn’t know.

When the orb appeared, the room silenced.

A glowing sphere, dark at its center, hovered above the head of the table. The voice that followed was a distortion—metallic, layered, and impossible to place. Male or Female. Both or neither

"I see you’ve all arrived."

I was just about to bow when I noticed something, no one was bowing, it seemed like Nemesis didn’t kneel, not even to its own leader.

"You’re late," said Hecate to my surprise, stepping out of the shadows at last. Her voice was smooth and cruel, but not without respect. I didn’t expect her to be part of this, but I should have imagined it, this was her domain, after all. The palace obeyed her alone. "We’ve waited."

The orb pulsed. "I was verifying the final movements of the Olympian legions. They will deploy at dawn. Zeus means to strike before we can."

"And he will fail." Poseidon growled.

Hecate gestured, and the stone table shimmered, transforming into a map. On the map we could see every parto f the known world, the mortal world, the heavens, the edges of Tartarus and figures of light and shadow moved like chess pieces across it.

"This will be the largest divine conflict since the Titanomachy," Hecate said, her voice calm, but heavy with meaning. "Which means sacrifices will be made. Mortals will die. Demigods will suffer. There’s no path forward without pain. Are we all prepared for that?"

A hush fell over the chamber.

Not the awkward silence of indecision. No, this was the silence that came when everyone already knew the answer but didn’t yet want to say it aloud.

It was Aphrodite who finally broke it, tilting her head with that ever-present half-smile she wore like armor. "I’ve already prepared my temples," she said, as if she were speaking about redecorating a garden. "Don’t worry about the mortals—my followers will adapt. They always do. They don’t love the Olympians anymore, not really, I made sure of that. What they lust for now is change, chaos, revolution. And we’ll give it to them—raw and glorious. When we’re done, they’ll tremble at the mere thought of us."

Zagreus chuckled softly, propping his boots up on the obsidian table and looking as smug as ever. "And I’ve made sure Daddy dearest has no idea what’s coming. Zeus still thinks I’m sulking somewhere in the Underworld. He’s tired, paranoid, surrounded by cowards pretending to be loyal. Perfect timing, if you ask me."

"You’ve always had a flair for betrayal," Hesperia muttered with a slight smirk.

"Call it what you like," Zagreus said, waving a hand. "All I know is when the moment comes, I’ll be the first to spill his divine guts."

"I want Hera," Poseidon said flatly, his deep voice cutting through the exchange. He stood with arms folded, every word etched with fury. "She’s mine."

There was a pause, and then the orb pulsed.

The floating sphere at the head of the table—the only presence of Nemesis’s leader—dimmed, then flared again. The silhouette inside was barely visible, only an outline of a humanoid form, shrouded and voiceless, until it spoke. The voice came distorted, layered, like many voices speaking as one.

"You’ll have her when I say," the leader replied firmly. "You know the price of personal vendettas, Poseidon. We strike with unity, not impulse."

Poseidon didn’t argue, but his jaw tensed.

Then the orb turned toward me.

"And you, Akhon?" the voice asked. "Are you ready for what’s to come?"

My throat was dry, but I kept my back straight. My city, my people, Aegle—all of it depended on this. "I am," I answered.

Hecate gave a quiet nod. "And the Titans?"

That’s when the shadows behind us shifted, and a presence colder than the room itself stepped forward.

Hades.

He looked worse than I’d seen him since our first meeting. Burnt flesh wrapped around one shoulder, his robes half-charred, one arm still stiff and bound in a golden brace. But he stood tall and commanding with his presence.

"They remain sealed," he said simply.

Zagreus scoffed. "You ’sealed’ them? Or did you tear their envoy to pieces and toss the remains at Olympus’s front gate like a gift?"

Hades didn’t blink. "Both."

Some around the table chuckled. Dionysus just raised his goblet lazily and took a long drink, unbothered by the tension in the room.

"Classic Hades," he said, swishing the wine. "Efficient. Brutal. A bit dramatic."

"Dramatic gets things done," Hesperia replied, resting her chin on one fist.

The orb pulsed once more, floating lower, casting strange rippling shadows across the walls and the gods’ faces.

"Then it’s settled," the voice said. "The war begins at sunrise."

A low rumble seemed to echo with those words, though whether it was from the palace or something within ourselves, I couldn’t say.

"The Olympians will not yield, not without a fight. But they’ve forgotten how fragile their empire really is and how complacent power has made them."

The orb flickered again, a hum of energy in the air.

"Our goals remain unchanged. End Zeus’s tyranny. Tear down the old order, shatter the throne and everything it represents. And when the dust settles, we build something better from its ashes."

Eyes turned toward one another—nods, grim smiles, a few flickers of uncertain hope.

"Each of you has a role to play. Each of you will stand, not as separate forces—but as one."

I looked around the room. This unlikely circle of revolutionaries. Aphrodite in her barely-there silk, her smile like a dagger wrapped in velvet. Dionysus half-drunk, but more alert than he let on. Poseidon smoldering with rage. Hestia, warm and calm as a storm before it hits. Hecate, calculating behind her calm expression. Zagreus, grinning like he already had Zeus’s blood under his fingernails. And Hades silent as always.

Then I met Hesperia’s gaze.

She smiled—not sweetly, or wistfully. But fierce an determined.

"Then let’s end the age of Olympus," she said.

Dionysus lifted his cup. "To chaos."

Aphrodite leaned forward, lips curling. "To freedom."

And me, standing in that cold palace of rebellion, surrounded by gods who had once stood as pillars and now chose to become architects of destruction, I raised my voice last.

"To tomorrow."

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l