No More Olympus

Part 2: Return to Athens

Wallace King paused for a moment to look over his work table.
The stainless steel table had been covered in various ancient relics that King himself had quickly categorized.
He looked at this collection with disappointment.
There were indeed many impressive relics here in front of him, such as a bow with the sun symbol of Apollo on the handle, a jewelled girdle with Aphrodite's swan symbol sewn into the front, and a jewelry box the size of a wallet that was found in Athena's temple, inside was a golden necklace decorated in a black stone King didn't recognize with a highly detailed owl carving on the inside. But strangely enough, this carving was not the owl from the symbol of Athena above her temple, which led King to theorize this particular owl represented something other than the goddess or even perhaps a smaller part of her.
However, the rest of the items seemed to be completely worthless, a worse-for-wear silk robe worn by Hera, a collection of the common bronze chalices that seemingly had no connection to any specific gods, and a whole lot of bad poetry written by Apollo that they found behind a loose brick.
His wallowing was soon interrupted by a soldier entering his tent.
"Professor King," the young man said formally, "General Anzo has requested an update on your progress."
General Omar Anzo was the man in charge of this mysterious operation, an operation that some sort of secret government organization had seemingly funded. King had been recruited due to his published theories on gods or god-like beings existing and subtly shaping most of human history, influencing wars, politics and other such global events. Other, more reputable scholars had dismissed his theories as the stuff of bad cinema. Still, for this mysterious group of individuals who claimed to be part of the American government, his wild theories were attractive, leading him to be flown out to Greece to assist them in finding Olympus, hiding as just another boring archaeological dig.
He had not yet told them about the powers and knowledge he had found in Pandora's box. He had decided they were not worthy of it.
"Son," King began, slowly turning to face the soldier, his eyebrows narrowed with thinly veiled annoyance, "You've given me a bunch of garbage, an old bow, a girdle with a bent clasp, and a necklace that while quite pretty isn't exactly going to give you the next Manhattan project."
The soldier seemed a little caught off guard by this, unsure of what to do next.
"Go tell him that," King ordered.
The soldier enthusiastically took the opportunity to leave.
"Be patient, Wallace," said the voice that had appeared when he had opened the box, "As any weaver would tell you, patience is essential to success."
"I know Milady," Wallace said aloud to the voice, "I'm just... we're so close. I've been looking for their wisdom since I was a young man. I'm just frustrated."
"I understand," the voice assured him, "But the time has nearly come. We are almost over the hill."
Almost as if the voice was relaying a prophecy, a sudden wind blew into the tent, throwing paper onto the ground and causing the walls to shake as if a storm had appeared in front of him.
King looked up to come face to face with a harpy, a half-woman half-bird creature the size of a chimp.
"What is your news?" King demanded, utterly unshaken by the horrifying creature before him.
"The Gorgons, the cyclopes, and the one hundred-eyed giant have all failed," the harpy explained in a fluttery voice, "Now the gods of war, wisdom, love and the messenger come to Greece to investigate Pandora's box."
King extended his hand, allowing the harpy to disappear into a puff of smoke that was promptly sucked into the palm of his hand like a vacuum.
He sighed.
"Don't look so disappointed," the voice said, "This is better than we could have planned."
"What are you talking about?" King debated, "These useless monsters failed at their tasks."
"Yes, but now the gods are coming to us," the voice explained, "As long as you keep the box by your side, they will come for you, and once they do, we will both get what we want from them."
"Please, milady," King began, "Tell me what you want from the gods."
"It's simple, child," the voice chuckled, "They turned me into the monster I am today, they humiliated me, they turned my name into a parody of what it used to be, and then they locked me inside a box for over two thousand years. I believe what I want from them is quite clear, once you acquire whatever knowledge, wisdom, power, call it what you like, from them. I wish to destroy them, and let the Minotaur feast on their corpses."