MTLNOVEL Chapter 18: Chapter 18: The Dawn of Mortal Ages
### Chapter 18: The Dawn of Mortal Ages
The grove where Apollo and Artemis stood thrummed with the quiet power of their twin bond, the ancient oak casting dappled shadows over their giant forms. Apollo's golden curls shimmered in the starlight, his crystallized jewel-blue eyes glinting with a secret satisfaction, his golden-blue toga clinging to his twelve-pack frame, the white gloves of Purity glowing faintly against the night. Beside him, Artemis's silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, her sharp silver eyes tracing the valley below where humanity's first fires flickered, *Selene's Fang* resting at her side, her presence a fierce testament to her dominion. Their systems hummed in sync—380 faith nodes, 1,650 miles of influence, Zeus's wrath at 95%, Hera's enmity at 90%, and mortal devotion soaring to 99%. Prometheus's curse echoed in the distance, his chains clanking under Zeus's storm, but the twins stood unshaken, their gifts woven into the fabric of humanity's soul.
The mortal world below stirred with newfound life, the humans—clay turned flesh by Prometheus, imbued with Apollo's light, music, sound, and fire, and Artemis's hunting prowess—spreading across the earth. The myths of Greek mythology unfolded before them, a tapestry of creation and chaos that Apollo recognized from his hidden past life, though he kept that secret locked tight, even from Artemis. Humanity's dawn was here, and with it came the next chapter of their divine saga.
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The valley glowed with the first sparks of human civilization, the mortals gathering around fires that burned with Apollo's golden flame. Men and women, their eyes bright with his Light, sang crude hymns with voices gifted by his Sound and Music, their hands crafting spears and shelters with the instincts Artemis had bestowed. The air carried their whispers—"Apollo, the Radiant One," "Artemis, the Huntress"—and the twins' systems chimed in unison:
"Faith nodes increased: 385. Influence radius: 1,700 miles. Mortal activity detected: settlement formation, tool creation, worship initiation."
Apollo's lips curled into a smirk, his golden curls swaying as he watched. "They're moving fast—building, singing, surviving. Just like the myths."
Artemis tilted her head, her silver eyes glinting with curiosity. "Myths again? You keep saying that—what do you mean?"
He waved a gloved hand, his twelve-pack flexing as he masked his past with a casual tone. "Visions, sister—Prophecy's threads. I see patterns, echoes of what's to come. Humanity's rising, and we're at its heart."
She smirked, her grip on *Selene's Fang* tightening. "Good enough for me. They're ours—let's see how far they'll run."
Below, the humans began to organize—families forming, hunters stalking game with Artemis's skill, fires tended with Apollo's gift. They fashioned crude altars from stone and wood, offering scraps of meat and wildflowers, their voices rising in chants that blended his Music with her Wilderness. The earth itself seemed to pulse with their potential, a raw, untamed energy that the twins had sparked into being.
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But Olympus wouldn't let it rest. High above, Zeus sat on his storm-forged throne, his gray eyes sparking with a fury that hadn't abated since Prometheus's chaining. His massive hands gripped the splintered arms, his paranoia a thunderhead that darkened the hall. Hera stood beside him, her emerald eyes glinting with spite, her peacock crown rustling as she stoked his rage. Poseidon lounged nearby, his trident dripping seawater, while Ares paced, his blackened armor clanking with restless bloodlust.
"They're spreading," Zeus growled, his voice shaking the marble. "Those clay rats—Prometheus's spawn—building, burning, singing. And Apollo's fire fuels it—my own son, defying me still!"
Hera's lips curled into a venomous smile. "I told you, husband—your twins are a plague. Apollo gave them fire, Artemis hunting—they're arming these mortals against us. How long before they challenge you?"
Poseidon snorted, twirling his trident. "Let 'em try—my seas'll drown their little fires. But Apollo's got guts—I'll give him that."
Ares slammed a fist into his palm, his grin savage. "Guts I'll spill! Let me loose, Father—I'll crush their villages, teach 'em fear!"
Zeus's lightning flared, his paranoia surging as he rose, his massive form crackling with power. "No—they'll learn their place, but not yet. Prometheus rots in chains, his liver torn daily—that's warning enough. The twins… they're mine to handle."
But his mind churned, the myths of his own rise haunting him—Cronus's blood, the Titans' fall. *Apollo's thirty-five domains—Prophecy, War, Fire—he could see my moves, burn my rule. Artemis's arrows—unerring, lethal. They've armed humanity—what if they turn it on me?*
Hera's whisper slithered into his ear. "You're hesitating, Zeus. Strike them now—twins and mortals—before they grow too bold."
He growled, his grip splintering the throne further. "I'll watch them—break them if I must. But they're my blood—I'll bend them first."
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Back on the cliff, Apollo and Artemis felt the storm's ripple, their systems chiming:
"Threat update: Zeus's wrath at 96%, Hera's enmity at 92%. Olympian sentiment: containment protocols discussed. Mortal progress: settlements established, population growth initiated."
Apollo's smirk widened, his golden curls glinting as he leaned against the oak. "They're fuming up there—perfect. Humanity's taking root, and they can't stop it."
Artemis nodded, her silver eyes tracing a hunter's silhouette against the firelight below. "They're thriving—my gift's in their blood, your fire in their hands. What's next in your 'visions'?"
He didn't mention the myths—the tales of Pandora, the flood, the ages of man—but his domain of Prophecy flared, weaving threads he shaped into a vague reply. "They'll grow—spread across the earth, build cities, fight wars. We'll guide them, sister—keep them ours. Zeus'll rage, but we'll outshine him."
She smirked, her silver hair catching the moonlight. "Good. Let's hunt their future—make it ours."
The humans below began to multiply, their settlements expanding into clusters of huts and camps. They hunted deer and boar with Artemis's skill, cooked meat over Apollo's flames, sang songs that echoed his Music. Altars grew more elaborate—stones carved with crude suns and moons, offerings of grain and hides piling high. The system chimed again:
"Faith nodes: 400. Influence radius: 1,800 miles. Mortal activity: cultural development detected—language formation, ritual standardization."
Apollo's jewel-blue eyes glinted, his twelve-pack rippling as he adjusted his toga. "400 nodes—they're praying harder. They'll name ages after us soon."
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But the myths pressed forward, unstoppable as fate. Zeus, in his wrath, summoned Epimetheus—Prometheus's brother, the Titan of Afterthought—to Olympus. "You'll finish what your brother started," Zeus commanded, his lightning crackling. "Shape beasts for the earth—let them rival these humans. And take this woman—Pandora, crafted by Hephaestus—to bind you. She'll balance their chaos."
Epimetheus, dull-witted but obedient, nodded, his hands soon shaping lions, wolves, eagles—creatures to challenge humanity's rise. Pandora, a beauty rivaling Aphrodite, stood beside him, her curious eyes hiding a jar that Zeus had sealed with mischief and doom.
Apollo saw it unfold through Prophecy, his jewel-blue eyes glazing over as he stood on the cliff. "Trouble's coming," he murmured, his golden curls swaying. "A woman—Pandora—and a gift that'll curse them. Zeus's counterstroke."
Artemis frowned, her silver eyes sharpening. "A curse? After all we gave them?"
He nodded, his voice threading with Fate and Knowledge. "It'll test them—disease, strife, chaos. But they'll endure—my fire, your hunting—they're strong enough."
The system chimed:
"Event detected: Pandora's creation. Threat level: moderate. Objective updated: mitigate Olympian interference, bolster human resilience. Faith nodes: 410. Influence radius: 1,850 miles."
Apollo's smirk returned, his golden curls gleaming. "410 nodes—they're tougher than Zeus thinks. We'll see them through."
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Below, humanity's first age dawned—the Golden Age, as the myths would later name it. Men and women lived in harmony with the earth, their lives simple but rich, their voices rising in songs of Apollo's Music, their hunts guided by Artemis's Wilderness. They built no cities yet, but their fires burned bright, their altars multiplied, and their faith deepened. The twins stood watch, their giant forms a beacon of gold and silver, their systems tracking every step.
Artemis adjusted *Selene's Fang*, her silver hair whipping in the wind. "They're ours, brother—clay turned to fire and blood. Zeus can't take that away."
Apollo's twelve-pack flexed as he grinned, his jewel-blue eyes blazing with triumph. "No, he can't. Pandora'll come, chaos'll spread—but they'll rise above it. We've set the stage, sister—just like it's meant to be."
He didn't say *the myths*—his past life's knowledge stayed buried, a secret he'd guard forever. But the echoes of Greek mythology unfolded before them, humanity's dawn a canvas for their power. Zeus raged, Hera schemed, and Pandora loomed, but Apollo and Artemis stood supreme—giants of sun and moon, their gifts the heartbeat of a new world. The Golden Age had begun, and their legend burned ever brighter.