I Am Zeus-Chapter 69: Children Of Zeus 1

The days slipped by.

Pelion’s skies turned from grey to gold, then grey again. Seasons didn’t announce themselves here—just arrived, slow and soft. The village stayed quiet. Smoke still rose from chimneys. Goats still kicked over buckets. And the old oak in the field kept its silent watch over the patch of earth that hadn’t been touched again.

No one knew what had happened that day. No one saw the goddess. No one heard Melina cry into her son’s hair. Kratos’ name was never spoken again, not even in the wind. Just folded away into silence, like the man had never existed.

But in Olympus, silence didn’t last long.

Months passed. And with them came whispers.

It started in small corners of the realm—nymphs trading glances, minor gods pausing mid-drink. A rumor with no voice but heavy breath.

Metis... was pregnant.

At first, it sounded ridiculous. She hadn’t been seen since the day of the war summit. No public visits. No temple appearances. No rituals. Not even a bird or snake of hers in the gardens. Just—gone. But then... someone saw her silhouette in the Courtyard of Echoes. Another swore they caught a glimpse of her cloak gliding through the mist near the Hanging Pools.

And one priestess—just one—claimed she heard Metis’s voice at night... humming.

By the time the news hit Olympus proper, it was wildfire.

Metis. Pregnant. By Zeus.

And just like that, the air shifted.

Not in the heavens. Not yet.

In Hera.

She didn’t show it. She didn’t scream. She didn’t tear through Olympus with storms and fire like some expected. No. She vanished. Not from Olympus, but from the eyes of Olympus. Her throne stayed empty. Her temples stayed closed. Her servants were dismissed.

No one knew where she was. But she was there. Watching. Listening. Burning.

And no one—no one—dared to speak her name around Zeus.

He said nothing either. Just sat taller. Walked heavier. Like the crown on his head had gained weight. He never confirmed the pregnancy. Never denied it. But sometimes, when he stood on the edge of the Sky Altar and looked down at the clouds... he smiled. Just slightly.

Hestia tried to reach Metis once. She left offerings in the Shrine of Thought, lit candles made from starlight, whispered into them. But Metis didn’t answer.

Athena wasn’t born yet.

No one had come through Metis yet.

But something... something had changed.

The stars above her chamber spun slower now. The realm around her felt like it held its breath, much like the sky did over Pelion that day. The gods above and the creatures below... all waited.

Because this wasn’t just any birth.

This would be the first.

The first child of Zeus.

And not just a child—Metis’ child.

The goddess of thought and strategy. The one who saw twelve moves ahead of everyone, even the Fates. Her child wouldn’t just be powerful. It would be dangerous. A wild card in a realm where prophecy held more weight than truth.

And somewhere, in the quiet folds of Olympus, Hera knew this. Felt it. She didn’t need to see Metis to feel her swelling with life. To feel Olympus itself react to the rhythm of a growing heartbeat. A new thread being spun—one Hera didn’t control.

She sat alone in a forgotten wing of her own palace. A room no one entered anymore. There were no mirrors in it. No lights. Just dust, old scrolls, and a single cradle made from divine wood that had never been used. It had been carved for her. A gift from Hephaestus when he was still young, still desperate to earn her smile.

She stared at it often now.

And wondered.

What kind of mother would Metis be?

She wouldn’t show it, but Hera’s thoughts tangled at night. She’d whisper to the empty room, asking questions no one would answer. Did Zeus love Metis? Was it just one of his fleeting whims again? Or... was this the start of something else?

She didn’t cry. Not once.

But sometimes, when she sat too long, the walls would crack from the weight of her silence.

Elsewhere in Olympus, preparations were being made.

Not openly. Not proudly. But subtly. Quietly. Hidden among rituals and feasts, scrolls were drawn, midwives summoned, protective seals written into the wind itself. Not for Metis’ safety. But for everyone else’s.

Because when a god-child comes into the world, the world feels it. And sometimes... the world breaks a little.

The moon grew heavier each night. The stars dimmed just enough to be noticed. The air, even in the highest peaks, started to feel thick. Like something was coming. Like the universe was tightening around a single point.

And then, one night—it began. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Far beyond the courtyards. Beyond the temples. Deep within the Crystal Garden that only Metis walked, a flower bloomed.

It wasn’t large. Or bright. It didn’t sing. It didn’t dance. Just opened, slow and patient, with petals made from the first thoughts the cosmos ever had.

And where it bloomed... Metis stood.

Her cloak was soaked with dew. Her hair down, long and wild, like it hadn’t seen combs in weeks. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes—still sharp.

But tired.

She held her belly with both hands now. The time had come.

The child was ready.

She breathed out, slow. Her knees gave slightly. The wind around her stilled. The very leaves on the crystal trees froze.

And in the silence of that sacred garden—unseen by gods, untouched by fate—Metis whispered one word.

"...now."

A soft quake rolled through Olympus.

The bells in the Temple of Truth rang by themselves.

Every fire dimmed for just a breath.

And somewhere in that dark, forgotten room, Hera’s head turned sharply.

She felt it.

The child of Zeus and Metis... was coming.

A/N

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