I Am Zeus-Chapter 39: The Prophecy

Olympus – Night of Quiet Storms

Zeus lay on the wide marble bed, one arm draped over his eyes to block out the flickering light of the braziers lining his chamber walls. The soft scent of olive oil and smouldering cedar drifted through the still air. Outside, the wind howled faintly around Olympus’s golden towers, rattling the bronze shields hung as offerings on the temple walls.

He could feel sleep pulling at him, trying to drag him down into its gentle dark. But his mind refused to still. The storm inside was always awake, even when his body was worn thin.

A soft chime, deep in his chest.

Then a familiar blue shimmer blinked into existence in his vision, invisible to all but him.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

The flickering text expanded, glowing softly against the shadows of the ceiling.

[MAIN QUEST COMPLETED]

[QUEST: THE MONSTER OF MONSTERS]

[STATUS: SUCCESS]

Zeus exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease, if only slightly. Typhon. The name alone still sent faint chills down his spine. He had faced Titans. Fought monsters. Wrestled gods and stormed citadels. But Typhon... Typhon had been something else entirely.

Something ancient. Something wrong.

The system flickered again, pulling his eyes back to the blue text.

[REWARD ACQUIRED:]

[Primordial Access – Tier 1 Unlocked]

[Divine Right Strengthened]

[New Skill Unlocked: Worldbreaker Strike (Lv. 1)]

Zeus narrowed his eyes at the glowing words.

"Worldbreaker Strike..." he murmured to the silent room. The name felt heavy on his tongue. Dangerous. He focused, and another line of text unfurled.

[WORLD BREAKER STRIKE (Lv.1)]

[Allows the user to channel the combined power of their divine authority and the Primordial Core to deliver a single attack capable of fracturing the boundaries between realms. Usage is limited. Excessive use risks destabilising personal divinity and the immediate fabric of reality.]

His chest rose and fell slowly as he read. Lightning flickered faintly across his fingertips, crackling in small arcs that kissed the sheets and vanished.

So... it was as it sounded. A weapon of absolute destruction. But not one to wield lightly. He could almost hear Metis’s voice in his mind, calm and soft:

"Be careful with power that can break the world. You still need the world to rule, my love."

He smiled faintly at the imagined memory. It faded quickly as another set of notifications scrolled into view.

[Primordial Access – Tier 1]

[The user may now perceive and partially influence the flows of primordial energy threading the base of the world. Current access: 4%]

Zeus closed his eyes, feeling the meaning settle into him. Primordial energy. The stuff that came before Titans. Before gods. The raw essence of existence itself, older even than Gaia and Uranus, older than Cronus’s reign.

He didn’t fully understand it yet. But he felt it. Like faint silver threads vibrating beneath his senses. The roots of reality. If he focused, he could almost see them—lines running through the marble floor, through the air, through the veins of his own body like hidden rivers of light.

The final line blinked softly.

[Divine Right Strengthened]

He knew what that meant. The unspoken law of power. Every god had divine right – the unassailable authority granted to them by their domain. By defeating Typhon, a threat even the Titans feared, his divine right as King of Olympus had solidified further.

His commands would weigh heavier. His storms would roar louder. Even his mere presence would press harder against those beneath him, divine or mortal alike.

And with that strength came certainty.

His people would bow deeper.

His enemies would think twice before testing him.

His allies... his allies would cling closer to his protection.

Zeus exhaled again, slower this time. His fingers traced the edge of the blanket as the text faded from his vision, dissolving back into the hidden system that only he could see. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

He felt... tired. Not just from battle, but from knowing what this power meant. What it demanded of him. Strength without limit was a lie. There was always a price. Even gods bled for what they claimed.

A faint flicker of golden light drew his eyes sideways.

Metis stood at the doorway, framed in the glow of the hallway torches. Her robe was simple today, pale cream tied with a thin bronze sash. Her hair, pinned up for council earlier, now fell in dark waves down her shoulders. She looked at him with that quiet, measuring gaze that stripped away all crowns and thrones.

He didn’t speak. Just watched her.

She stepped forward, her sandals whispering across the marble, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her cool fingers brushed his cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair away from his brow.

"Rest," she whispered softly. "The world is safe for tonight."

Zeus reached up, covering her hand with his. The faint spark of lightning crackled where their skin met, but she didn’t flinch. She never flinched.

Metis felt Zeus’s hand tighten gently around hers. His eyes softened, the stormlight in them dimming under her calm gaze. For a fleeting moment, there was peace in that chamber. No thrones. No prophecies. Just a man and the woman who steadied him.

Then—

The chamber doors swung open without warning, the polished bronze slamming back against marble walls with a metallic thud. The sudden burst of wind extinguished half the braziers along the hall. Shadows danced wildly across the floor as Hera stepped in.

Her robes rippled behind her like dark waves. Her hair, still pinned high in its intricate coils, glowed gold under the flickering torchlight. But her eyes—her eyes were cold and sharp as obsidian, fixed on Zeus and Metis with unreadable darkness.

Metis didn’t move her hand from Zeus’s cheek. She simply turned her gaze calmly to Hera. Zeus’s grip tightened slightly, but his face remained composed, if slightly tired.

"Hera," he said, his voice quiet but carrying the same authority as a thunderclap. "It’s late."

Hera’s lips curled in the smallest ghost of a smile, but there was no warmth in it. She stepped forward, each sandal strike echoing against the silent chamber floor.

"I apologise for the intrusion," she said smoothly, her voice honey-sweet and poisonous all at once. "But I come bearing news you... both should hear."

Metis stayed silent. Her eyes watched Hera closely, patient and still as deep water. Zeus only sighed softly, letting his hand fall back to the blankets.

"Speak, Hera," he said.

She tilted her head slightly, eyes flicking to Metis before settling back on Zeus. "I spoke with the Moirai today. The Sisters of Fate." Her smile grew faintly, like frost spreading across glass. "They shared with me... an interesting prophecy."

Metis felt Zeus’s fingers shift against her knee under the blanket, a subtle acknowledgement to stay calm. She did.

"What prophecy?" he asked, voice quiet.

Hera’s eyes gleamed. "They said... the son born of Metis will overthrow his father." She paused, letting the words hang heavy between them. "He will not only take your throne, Zeus. He will kill you."

Silence.

Outside, a distant rumble of thunder rolled across Olympus’s peaks, echoing into the night.

Metis sat perfectly still, but her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the blanket. Her gaze remained calm, but in her chest, a quiet sadness pulsed. Not fear. Not worry for herself. But for him—for the man who bore the weight of so many burdens alone.

Zeus didn’t flinch. His golden eyes didn’t even flicker. He stared at Hera, then exhaled softly, almost like a tired laugh under his breath.

"Is that all?" he asked, his voice low, almost amused.

Hera’s expression tightened just a fraction, her brow twitching before smoothing again. "You think it meaningless to hear that your own son will destroy you?"

Zeus leaned back against the pillows, shifting his gaze away from her to the flickering shadows on the ceiling.

"I think," he said quietly, "that if fate wants me dead... it will try, prophecy or not. And if my son is strong enough to defeat me..." He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "...then perhaps he deserves Olympus more than I do."

Hera stared at him, her eyes narrowed in cold disbelief. Metis felt a slow warmth bloom in her chest at his words. Not because of arrogance, or defiance. But because of the simple truth within them.

He was Zeus. Skyfather. Godking. He didn’t fear storms. He was the storm.

Hera’s jaw clenched. She turned her gaze sharply to Metis, her voice slicing the air like cold iron.

"And you... what do you say to this, Wisdom Goddess? Will you bear a child knowing he will bring ruin upon his father?"

Metis’s eyes softened as she looked at Hera, unblinking, unafraid.

"If it is fate... then it is fate," she said quietly. "But I will raise him to honour his father, not destroy him."

For a moment, Hera faltered. Just a flicker of uncertainty. Then her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Foolish," she spat softly, almost to herself. She turned away sharply, her robes sweeping like thunderclouds around her ankles.

Without another word, she left the chamber. The doors closed behind her with a deep, echoing boom that shook the braziers against the walls.

Silence fell again.

Metis reached out and gently brushed a curl of hair away from Zeus’s brow. His eyes remained on the ceiling, golden and unreadable.

"Does it worry you?" she asked softly.

Zeus closed his eyes, breathing out slowly.

"No," he whispered. "Because I’ve already lived long enough to know one truth."

"What truth?"

He turned his head slightly, looking at her with tired, gentle eyes.

"That everything ends eventually. Even gods. And if my end comes by my own son’s hand... then at least I will know my line was strong enough to surpass me."

Metis smiled faintly, her fingers trailing down to rest on his chest where his heart thundered quietly under her touch.

"You’re still a fool," she whispered, her voice full of warmth.

"Perhaps," he murmured back, closing his eyes. "But I am Zeus. And that... is enough."

Outside, lightning forked across the night sky in silent silver branches, illuminating Olympus’s towers under the calm watch of its king and the quiet wisdom of his chosen queen.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺