His Return

11. The Rise of the Exiled

October 28th
3 years 6 months after the Tartarus War.
7 years since banishment.
600th Floor, Empire State Building,
Mount Olympus, Throne Room

Meanwhile on Olympus

««•••»»

In the past years, the gods found themselves quite blind to the happenings that occurred on their Earth.

Things that conspired and churned right beneath their noses.

Threats were gone, thus there was no motive to stand guard against something that would never happen.

This was the beauty in working silently.

Operating in complete tranquility gave no one any reason to be on their toes. No reason to start preparing strategies. None to start rallying troops. No person had a clue, so to the gods, the world was at peace, as far as they knew.

There are ways that humans and immortals are alike, but the most common is that we; at least a percentage of us, learn from our mistakes. We try to refrain from butting our heads twice in the same place. It is how we survive.

With this being said, there was no prior warning before this day came.

October 28th.

Nearing four years since it'd happened.

When I, (the narrator) said that both humans and divine alike learn from their faults and fails, by no means was I speaking of the gods.

Olympian gods have been arrogant and egotistical for all of their reign, which is why they tended to constantly run into walls, only to be rescued by the children they had borne.

When I speak, I speak of the primordials.

The highest of all sanctified beings. These gods worked diligently to adapt to the changes of time. They humbled themselves for long enough to take the knowledge they have gained after their defeats, and used this information to make sure that they did not falter again.

Not entirely, though, oh no.

Only enough that they had the element of surprise on their side.

See, since the beginning of time, there have always been a template set for choosing battles—before you invade, you must announce your intention, therefore giving the opposition a fair chance. Immortals usually sent their messengers to do this. A fine example of this would be Kronos's declaration of war onto the Olympians, through his loyal servant, Luke Castellan. By the end of the quest for Zeus's bolt, Luke would corner his former cabin-mate in the woods and tell him of the plans that Kronos had in store, proceeding to then poison the young boy.

This time, there was no prior warning, and the gods would be left unknowing to the occurrences until the last moment.

The only thing was that the warning did not come by messenger.

The warning came by prophecy.

This was what lead them all here, all together on Olympus for the first time in what seemed like ages. Even those with bitter words for others temporarily settled their grievances to hear the message brought forth in this new prophecy.

There was a heavy and disturbed ambiance in the room, which brought troubled looks on the faces of the Olympians. For once, they were all silent. No one shouted or yelled insults across the room. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop in a haystack.