I Am Zeus

The courtyard was gone.

Flames tore the marble into rivers of molten rock, while lightning split the skies in jagged veins. Olympus trembled under it, every column shaking, every statue shattering, as if the mountain itself couldn't decide whether to burn or be struck down.

At the center, Zeus and Surtr clashed.

The fire giant swung his spear in a brutal arc. The weapon's head carved through the air, and the flames it carried melted the ground to lava as it passed. Zeus lifted his hand, thunder booming as a lightning shield crackled into existence. Spear met storm. The impact exploded outward, blasting the gods back, forcing them to shield themselves.

Hermes dove behind a broken pillar. Apollo flared his aura brighter to block the searing heat. Athena's knuckles whitened on her spear as she anchored herself against the gale. Even Nyx's robe of stars rippled like a pond disturbed.

Zeus shoved forward, his shield bursting into a lance of electricity that surged into Surtr's chest. The giant staggered a step, smoke hissing from the wound—but he only roared in laughter, his flames rising higher.

"MORE, SKY KING!" Surtr bellowed. His voice shook the bones of every god present.

He stomped once. The earth cracked like glass, and a geyser of molten fire erupted beneath Zeus. The king of Olympus blurred away, his body scattering into lightning bolts that zipped across the battlefield. In the blink of an eye, he reformed above Surtr, fist drawn back.

Thunder cracked.

He slammed his fist down like a hammer of the storm itself.

The blow struck Surtr's helm, the shockwave flattening half the courtyard. Fire splashed out like a tidal wave, spilling into the gardens, torching trees into cinders. The mountain groaned under the force.

But Surtr's head only turned slightly, his molten grin never fading. He caught Zeus's wrist mid-swing, flames crawling up his arm. "Too slow."

He yanked Zeus down and drove a knee of magma into his ribs. The sound was like stone breaking. Zeus's body snapped back, crashing through the courtyard wall, rubble exploding into dust.

"Father!" Apollo shouted, raising his bow.

"Stay back!" Nyx snapped sharply. Her silver eyes never left Surtr. "This is his fight."

Zeus rose from the wreckage at once, no hesitation, no stumble. His robe was gone, torn away in the impact, leaving only the storm that clung to him like armor. Lightning coiled around his shoulders, dancing across his skin, every spark humming with fury.

He raised his arm. The skies split open.

A hundred bolts dropped at once, spears of raw thunder raining down like judgment. Each strike cracked stone, tore fire apart, burned the ground black. The air screamed under the assault.

Surtr crossed his spear before him, flames bursting outward in a shield. Lightning hammered it again and again, but he pushed through, roaring, his whole body glowing like a furnace about to rupture.

He charged.

The spear thrust forward, a comet of fire. Zeus caught it bare-handed, sparks screaming as lightning wrapped the blade. For a heartbeat, the two forces locked—the god of storms, the giant of fire, both shoving, both snarling.

The marble under their feet shattered into nothing. The shockwave lifted entire pillars from their roots and flung them aside like toys.

Then Surtr twisted. The spear slid free, slashing across Zeus's chest. Blood—bright, divine—spilled, sizzling as it hit the molten ground.

The gods gasped.

But Zeus didn't flinch. He seized Surtr's wrist and slammed his forehead forward, cracking against the fire giant's skull with a thunderclap so loud it shook the stars above.

Surtr reeled back, flames sputtering for the first time.

Zeus lifted both hands.

The storm screamed.

A colossal bolt, thicker than a temple column, ripped from the heavens and struck down onto Surtr. The giant's roar was drowned in the explosion, his entire form swallowed in light. The ground cratered, molten rock spraying upward like a fountain.

When the light faded, Surtr was still standing.

Charred. Smoking. But grinning.

"Good," he rasped, voice broken with fire. "Good!"

He raised his spear high. Flames gathered around him, twisting, screaming, merging into the shape of a wolf made of fire, its jaws snapping, its body towering taller than Olympus itself. Its howl shattered the clouds.

The gods staggered back in fear. Apollo dropped his bow. Hermes went pale. Even Ares, still standing, cursed under his breath.

Zeus looked up, calm, the storm raging louder around him.

He spread his arms.

The wolf lunged.

Zeus vanished.

And reappeared inside its throat. Lightning flared so bright it blinded the world. His body split into dozens, a hundred streaks of thunder ripping outward at once, each one a lance piercing the wolf's form.

The beast of fire detonated in a blaze that turned night to day.

Surtr roared, the force ripping through him, flames spilling from his mouth. He staggered, his molten skin cracking under the storm's onslaught.

Zeus landed in front of him, eyes burning like lightning itself. His voice rolled like thunder across Olympus.

"You should have stayed in your realm."

Surtr growled, his spear lifting one last time, trembling. His body cracked like stone, flames leaking through. "I… will… burn this mountain…"

Zeus's hand closed around his spear shaft.

Lightning surged.

The weapon shattered in two.

Surtr froze, eyes wide, molten blood spilling from the cracks across his chest. Zeus's lightning speared through him, tearing him apart from the inside. For the first time, the fire giant screamed—not in rage, but in pain.

The sound echoed down the mountain, across the seas, through every realm listening.

And then, with a final burst of light, Surtr exploded into ash and fire. His essence scattered to the winds, the wound in the sky closing behind him.

Silence fell.

The courtyard was gone, reduced to molten ruin. The gods stood in awe, bruised, singed, their breaths ragged. Nyx alone still smiled, her silver eyes glinting.

"Well," she murmured, her voice soft but carrying. "Seems the other pantheons are paying attention too."

Zeus stood among the ruin, his chest bloodied, his aura still crackling with lightning. He said nothing. His gaze lingered on the sky where Surtr had vanished, calm and steady, though his hand clenched at his side.

The war had not even begun. But the first stone had already been thrown.