Poseidon's Heir: A Battle for the Seas

~~~~~~~

The moment Gravill's fingers curled around the Trident, the entire realm of Olympus held its breath.

The sea roared louder. The skies grumbled like a waking beast. And far below, in the depths of the Underworld, something snapped.

Hades' chamber, a vast cavern of black stone and endless shadows, trembled. The river Styx surged violently, its dark waters lashing against jagged rocks as lost souls screamed in agony.

The god of the dead sat motionless on his obsidian throne, fingers steepled beneath his chin. But his shadow twisted unnaturally, writhing like it felt the pain its master refused to show.

The voice he'd planted in Gravill's mind — that sinister fragment of his will — had been severed. Cut off the instant the Trident's light surged through the boy's veins.

Hades' fingers twitched. A crack splintered through the stone beneath his feet.

"Poseidon," he hissed, voice like a funeral dirge. His molten gold eyes burned brighter as he leaned back into his throne, calculating. "Even in absence, you defy me."

The Hematoi, his most loyal creatures of shadow and death, prowled at the edges of the chamber. They growled low, restless from the disturbance, waiting for a command.

But Hades didn't speak to them.

Instead, he lifted his gaze upward, toward the unseen ceiling of the Underworld — toward the mortal world beyond.

"Enjoy your freedom while you can, little heir," he whispered, voice echoing through the void. "The Trident cannot protect you from the inevitable."

Meanwhile, atop Mount Olympus...

Zeus stood at the edge of the heavens, lightning sparking at his fingertips. He watched the distant storm over the Forgotten Isle, felt the ancient power surging like a heartbeat.

He exhaled slowly.

"Poseidon," he muttered again, tasting the name like it hurt to speak. But he said nothing more.

He didn't need to.

The heir had awakened the sea. And Olympus would not ignore it.

And far above, on the peak of Olympus, the gods turned their eyes to the mortal realm.

---

Athena's Temple, Olympus

Athena's hand froze over the map she'd been studying, the golden figurines representing mortal kingdoms rattling on the marble surface. The owl perched on her shoulder flared its wings, screeching as the goddess's grey eyes darkened like a brewing storm.

"The Trident," she whispered, fingers curling into her palm. She straightened, armor gleaming as she turned to the horizon, staring through the veil of clouds toward the Forgotten Isle.

"But Poseidon is gone..." Her voice was sharp, yet uncertain. The goddess's gaze flickered with something rare — concern. "Unless..."

Her heart twisted.

"The heir lives."

---

Apollo's Sun-Chariot

Apollo faltered mid-flight, the blazing wheels of his chariot veering slightly as the sun faltered in its path. His golden bow shimmered at his side, but for once, he didn't reach for it.

He simply listened.

The faint hum of a power lost to the world for centuries now thrummed through the universe like a forgotten melody. Ancient, untamed, and unmistakably familiar.

He swallowed hard.

"Gravill," he murmured, voice edged with both awe and dread.

---

Hera's Garden, Olympus

The peacocks in Hera's sacred garden screamed and scattered, feathers shimmering as they fled into the clouds. The queen of the gods sat still, her fingers curled around the armrest of her throne, nails biting into the gold.

She didn't speak. Didn't move.

Her eyes were locked on the horizon, her jaw tight as something bitter curled in her chest.

"That fool," she whispered, the words laced with venom. She turned her gaze toward Zeus's empty throne, her voice a cold accusation. "You swore it was over."

---

Zeus, Watching the Storm

Zeus watched the storm rage over the sea, lightning dancing along his fingertips. The power Gravill had awakened echoed through his bones — old, familiar, and undeniable.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as the storm crackled around him.

"Poseidon..." he muttered, the name heavy with regret and something dangerously close to fear. He opened his eyes, staring into the distance like he could see through the clouds themselves.

But he didn't finish the thought.

Because he didn't have to.

The heir of the sea was alive. And Olympus would never be the same.