I Am Zeus

The air over Olympus grew heavy. It wasn't just a shift—it was a plunge, like the whole mountain had been dropped into an endless night.

Every god froze. Every minor deity, every nymph and spirit in the courtyards below lifted their heads as the sky itself dimmed. Torches bent, their flames stretching toward the ground, shadows pulling longer and sharper as if the world itself feared to stand straight.

An aura filled Olympus. Ancient. Boundless.

Athena's grip on her spear tightened. Ares raised his sword instinctively. Hermes's easy grin faltered, and even Apollo, who thrived in radiance, looked uneasy as his light dimmed.

Only Zeus stayed calm. From the high balcony, his eyes narrowed, patient, knowing.

The night itself thickened at the heart of the training ground, swirling like ink spilled across marble. From it, she stepped.

Nyx.

Primordial Night.

Her robes shimmered like a starfield stitched into shadow, her hair flowing black and endless, swallowing light at the edges. Her silver eyes gleamed with the weight of eternity. She moved without sound, yet every footstep rang in the gods' bones.

For a moment, none dared breathe. The sheer gravity of her presence pressed into their skin, made their hearts drum faster. Even the air was afraid.

Then she smiled.

"Ahh… children." Her voice was velvet, soft but carrying through Olympus with ease. "How you've grown. Bickering. Training. Pretending you're ready for the world outside Daddy's mountain."

The oppressive weight lightened at once, like someone opening a window in a suffocating room. The silence cracked. A few minor gods exhaled loudly, relief spilling into the air.

Athena straightened, her tone cool. "Why are you here, Nyx?"

Nyx tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Hmm… do I start with the scary part, or the fun part? Ah—fun, definitely. Let's warm up."

Her silver gaze landed squarely on Apollo.

"You. Shiny boy."

Apollo blinked, already wary. "…me?"

"Yes, you." Nyx made a dramatic gesture, outlining him with her hands. "Golden hair, golden aura, golden everything. My, my, don't you ever get tired of blinding people? Or is the hair part of the strategy? Walk in, glow so bright they can't aim, then loose an arrow?"

Hermes snorted before he could stop himself. A few minor gods outright laughed.

Apollo's jaw tightened. "It's called radiance. Mortals pray for it."

Nyx leaned closer, smirking. "Mortals also pray for night so they can sleep. Guess who they thank then? Not you, sunshine." She thumbed at her own chest. "Me."

Laughter rippled around the courtyard. Apollo's face flushed. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "jealous hag."

Nyx only winked. "Don't pout. You're pretty, but not that pretty."

Her eyes slid next to Hermes.

"And you," she said, zeroing in on his sandals. "Oh, look at those little birdie shoes. Do they chirp when you walk?"

Hermes froze mid-step. "…they don't chirp."

"Are you sure?" She bent down mock-seriously, hand to her ear. "Flap-flap, flap-flap. Honestly, you sound like a goose chasing grain."

Apollo burst out laughing this time. "She's not wrong."

Hermes's face turned crimson. "They're for speed! Stealth! They're legendary!"

"Sweetheart," Nyx said sweetly, "I can cross the void in one blink. Your sandals are cute, though. Maybe get a matching beak?"

Hermes groaned and covered his face.

Nyx clapped her hands once. "This is fun."

Her gaze shifted again, this time to Athena.

"And here's the brain." She conjured a tiny constellation above Athena's head like a crown. "Always calculating, always scowling, never smiling. Tell me, do you whisper bedtime strategies to your pillow?"

Athena's eyes narrowed, her voice steady. "Discipline is not the absence of joy. It is order. Something you wouldn't understand."

Nyx gasped theatrically, hand to her chest. "Order? From you? Oh, sweetling, you're one battle away from turning into Cronus with a better vocabulary."

Even Ares barked a laugh at that.

Athena didn't flinch, though her jaw flexed. "Your humor is wasted here."

"Nothing's wasted on me, darling. I invented wasted time." Nyx giggled, spinning once as if to show off the sky stitched into her gown.

Then she turned to Ares.

"Ohh, my favorite little hothead."

Ares bristled immediately. "Don't."

"Oh, I must." Nyx stepped closer, her grin sharp. "You think you're war, don't you? Fury, blood, fire. But you're just a toddler with a sword, throwing tantrums until someone pats you on the head."

Ares's aura flared, blade rising. "Say that again."

Nyx leaned forward, whispering with deliberate slowness. "Tan-trum."

Ares roared and swung. His sword cleaved air where she stood—but shadows drank it whole, rippling like water. The strike vanished into her aura.

She blew him a kiss. "Cute. You almost scratched the paint."

Hermes was wheezing from laughter now, while Apollo shook his head in disbelief.

Nyx clapped again. "Honestly, you children are delightful. Training, sparring, roasting each other—it's like theatre, but with shinier props."

Apollo muttered, "You're insufferable."

Hermes added, "And hilarious."

Athena's eyes narrowed. "Enough games. Why are you here?"

The air shifted instantly.

Nyx's smile lingered, but her aura swelled again, pressing heavy. Shadows spread farther, swallowing half the courtyard in dark. Her silver eyes burned brighter, colder.

"The Primordials are watching," she said, her voice no longer playful but vast, echoing with the first darkness of creation. "Chaos stirs. Erebus listens. Even Tartarus dreams. And you—" her gaze lifted to Zeus above—"you have been noticed."

Silence. No one moved. The laughter and teasing seemed like it had happened in another world.

"The storm you prepare for will not be of your making," Nyx continued, softer now but heavy. "They see you as a threat, Sky King. They see all of you as pieces on the board. And pieces… are meant to be moved."

Her words settled like ash. Athena's knuckles whitened on her spear. Hermes swallowed hard. Even Ares's anger cooled into wary silence.

Zeus alone did not flinch. He stood on his balcony, gaze steady, unmoved.

Then Nyx's smile returned, playful once more, as though the weight she'd dropped was nothing. She twirled, robe flaring like a galaxy. "Well! That's the scary part done. Back to fun. Now—" she leaned between Athena and Ares with a sly grin—"are you two going to keep fighting like siblings, or finally admit you'd make a cute couple?"

Both gods recoiled instantly.

"Absolutely not," Athena snapped.

"Over my dead body," Ares growled.

Nyx clutched her heart. "Oh, the denial! Delicious. I'll be writing fan-poems about you later."

Hermes collapsed laughing again. Apollo groaned into his hand.

And through it all, Zeus remained still, calm, watching. He knew what the others didn't. Nyx's laughter wasn't just mockery. It was a veil, covering how close the Primordials already were.

When Night herself came to play, it meant the world was already sliding into shadow.