I Am Zeus

The high halls of Olympus hummed with a silence no one dared disturb. The seam between worlds had closed, but its echo lingered like smoke caught in the rafters. Zeus stood on the upper terrace, the winds folding around him, the thunderheads beneath like a restless army waiting for command.

He closed his eyes.

The visions came fast, jagged and cruel. Futures breaking against him like glass. The vote in the void wasn't hidden from him—he felt the weight of it pressing down already, old powers shifting, whispering the same word: death.

His death.

He saw flames spilling across fields where no mortals should walk. He saw oceans climbing too high, reaching for mountains. He saw the sky bending under a crown that wasn't his. And in the center of it all, shadows moved like chess pieces, the old ones testing, tightening their grip.

He breathed slow. His hand curled, lightning gathering between his fingers and fading again.

"They will come," he murmured to himself. "And I'll be ready."

A laugh, low and amused, slid through the still air behind him.

Zeus opened his eyes but didn't turn. "Of course," he said flatly. "You."

Lucifer stepped out from the darker end of the hall as if he'd been waiting there the whole time. His coat trailed behind him, his steps light, unhurried. Crimson eyes glimmered like coals in the dim.

"You make it sound like I'm an unwelcome guest," Lucifer said, voice lazy but edged.

"You are," Zeus said.

Lucifer smirked. "And yet, here I am."

He stopped a few paces behind Zeus, hands sliding into his pockets, gaze wandering across the terrace. "You felt it too, didn't you? That little gathering in the seam. Old family meeting. Shadows voting like gods in a council."

Zeus tilted his head slightly. "I saw enough."

"And?" Lucifer asked. "Scared?"

"Prepared," Zeus answered.

Lucifer chuckled, stepping closer, leaning a little so his shadow stretched across the marble beside Zeus. "Prepared. That's such a Zeus word. So tidy. So heroic. You don't fool me. I've seen gods who claimed preparation while fear chewed their bones. You…" He studied Zeus's profile, eyes narrowing. "You're too calm."

"I've been king too long to shake," Zeus said, finally turning to face him. His eyes sparked faintly, not anger—just stormlight waiting to break.

Lucifer's grin widened. "And this," he said softly, "is why I like you."

Zeus's brow arched. "Like me?"

"Yes," Lucifer said. "You don't beg. You don't bluff. You don't hide behind songs and prayers like the others. You stand, even when the seam itself whispers that your time's almost up."

"I don't need your admiration," Zeus said.

"You'll take it anyway," Lucifer said easily. "Because it's honest. And I don't give that freely."

Zeus turned away, eyes back on the horizon. "Then keep it. I don't need your help either."

That made Lucifer laugh—loud enough that it bounced off the stone and startled a few birds from the columns. "There it is. The famous arrogance. Tell me, king of gods, do you really believe you can stand against all of them? Erebus. Nyx. Tiamat. Even Gaia is split, and her protection won't last forever. They voted death for you, Zeus. They want your head. They want your throne. Do you really think thunder alone will keep them back?"

"Yes," Zeus said simply.

Lucifer's grin froze for a beat, then curled sharper. "You infuriating bastard. You actually mean it."

"I do."

Lucifer's laugh softened into a low hum. He walked past Zeus now, standing near the edge of the terrace, letting the wind tug his coat. His red eyes looked down at the shifting storm-clouds below.

"You remind me of me," Lucifer said at last. "Too proud to bend. Too stubborn to share. And when the world sharpens its teeth, instead of retreating, you bare yours."

Zeus said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Lucifer caught it. He smirked. "See? You know I'm right. That's why I like you. You're not a liar, not to yourself. You won't ask me to stand with you. Not because you think I'd betray you—though, I probably would—but because you'd rather win or lose on your own terms."

"Exactly," Zeus said.

Lucifer exhaled, a sound that was half a sigh, half a laugh. "Fine. Then I'll do what I do best."

"And what's that?" Zeus asked.

Lucifer turned his head, crimson gaze glinting. "Watch. From the sidelines. I'll sit back and see how the king of Olympus handles being hunted by the very roots of creation. Maybe I'll enjoy the show. Maybe I'll step in when it's fun. Maybe not."

"You're a vulture," Zeus said.

Lucifer bowed slightly. "Flatterer."

Zeus stepped closer, his height and presence pressing down like thunder about to break. "Understand this. If you get in my way, you won't just watch from the sidelines—you'll crawl back to whatever pit spat you out."

Lucifer met his gaze head-on, unfazed. "And that," he whispered, "is why I'll never get bored of you."

The silence stretched. Two predators, storm and shadow, staring across the thin line of something that wasn't friendship and wasn't enmity either. Something sharper.

At last, Lucifer leaned back, breaking the tension with a grin. "Very well, king. Stand your ground. Shake the skies. I'll be waiting to see how many of the old ones you drag down with you."

He turned, his coat flicking behind him as he started back toward the darkness he came from.

"Lucifer," Zeus called.

The devil paused, looking over his shoulder.

"When they fall," Zeus said, voice quiet but heavy, "don't pretend you didn't want to help."

Lucifer's grin widened, wicked and amused. "And when you fall, don't pretend you didn't want me to."

Then he vanished, fading into shadow as if the hall had swallowed him whole.

Zeus stood alone again, thunder whispering under his skin, the future pressing close. He closed his eyes once more.

This time, he didn't see fear. He saw war.

And he was ready.