Rage would not solve the problem; he needed to understand the other's true purpose.
"To come here across world barriers, impersonate me to defile Hera, and now strip me of my thunder... If this were merely about power, you are already a king of gods in your own world. Why go to such trouble—"
"Because it's boring." Zeus interrupted him, his tone light, yet deep in his eyes flickered a shadow even he himself might not have acknowledged.
"Ruling a world for millennia, watching the same gods scheme, the same heroes repeat tragedies, the same mortals stumble through their folly... It gets tedious, believe me. So when that guy Hades opened a passage, I immediately wanted to know: what kind of life does another me live? Is he like me, sitting on a golden throne, utterly empty inside?"
He hovered higher, surveying the devastated land below. "I'm a little disappointed with the result. You're more 'competent' than I am. You take your role as king of gods seriously, maintaining the order of Olympus, even caring about the tedious honour of 'the queen of gods being defiled.' I stopped feeling the meaning of any of that long ago."
'Zeus' suddenly understood something. "A passage opened by Hades? Are you saying Hades already knew you were coming? That he might have even orchestrated this?"
"Orchestrated?" Zeus laughed. "No, he's not that boring. He merely... presented an option. It's like placing a new deck of cards on the table. He doesn't care who plays or how. He cares about the outcome of the game, and how many chips he can extract from it."
He twirled the thunderbolt scepter, purple-black lightning coruscating along its length. "But since I'm here, I might as well take a souvenir. Your thunder is excellent; I'll accept it. As for the mess in your world..." Zeus looked towards Mount Olympus, where several powerful divine lights were rising—apparently, the terrifying three-day battle had finally attracted the attention of the other major gods. Gods like Apollo and Ares were approaching.
"Just leave you to clean it up." Zeus waved his hand, tearing open behind him a rift shimmering with grey-purple mist—a temporary passage to the world of Chaos, seemingly maintained by Hades's power.
"Oh, and by the way, apologies regarding 'Hera'. That night... it was actually quite enjoyable. She was, at least, gentler than the one from my world. After all, I never managed to catch her there."
"YOU COURT DEATH!!" 'Zeus' finally snapped. He roared, raised the purloined thunderbolt, and poured all his remaining divine power into a single, massive golden pillar of lightning, enough to pierce a continent.
But Zeus had already stepped into the rift.
The pillar of lightning struck the spatial tear, causing only a ripple, and then the fissure closed rapidly, as if it had never existed.
The valley fell silent once more, leaving only the scorched earth and scattered divine ichor as evidence of what had just transpired.
Seconds later, the first divine lights descended.
It was 'Apollo', driving his sun chariot; 'Ares', wreathed in the flames of war; and 'Hephaestus', limping on his damaged leg, carrying his massive forge hammer.
The gods looked at the dishevelled 'Zeus', at the clearly 'wrong' thunderbolt scepter in his hand, and then sensed the lingering fluctuations of divine power in the air, their expressions varied.
'Athena' frowned deeply.
She had been one of the first gods to sense something amiss—when Zeus had been frantically searching for the impostor, she had used her authority of wisdom to deduce a troubling conclusion:
There were two possibilities: either it was the return of Kronos, or... another Zeus.
Now, it seemed to be the latter.
"Father of Gods," 'Athena' lowered her spear and saluted, her voice calm. "The enemy has fled?"
'Zeus's' chest heaved violently, lightning still crackling in his eyes.
The gazes of the gods pricked him like needles. Especially 'Apollo', that son who always pretended to be submissive—there was now a poorly concealed glint of schadenfreude deep in his eyes.
Shame.
Unprecedented shame.
Defeated by another 'himself', his artifact stolen, his queen defiled, and now humiliated before his own children...
"Leave." 'Zeus' forced the word from his throat.
The gods exchanged glances.
"I said, LEAVE!" 'Zeus' suddenly snapped his head up, the furious lightning in his eyes causing the surrounding space to begin to crumble.
"Return to Olympus! No one leaves the sacred mountain without my command! Transgressors will—!"
The final words were left unspoken, but the compulsion of the king of gods' authority was palpable, stabbing into the hearts of every god present.
Even the most unruly 'Ares' paled and instinctively took half a step back.
'Athena' stared intently at her father for a long moment, then took the initiative to turn and transform into a streak of light, departing.
The other gods also left, except for 'Hephaestus'. He hesitated for a moment, then limped forward.
"King of Gods, your injuries..."
"ARE YOU LOOKING TO BE SPARED?!" 'Zeus' whipped his head around, the thunderbolt scepter pointed directly at Hephaestus's face. "GET OUT! You ugly waste! The sight of you makes me sick!"
Pain flickered in Hephaestus's one good eye, but it was quickly masked by his usual numbness.
He lowered his head, turned silently, and limped away towards his forge.
When all the gods had gone, 'Zeus' finally could no longer hold himself up. He fell to one knee and spat out a mouthful of golden divine ichor.
The blood, spilling onto the scorched earth, actually caused a few small, faintly glowing blades of grass to sprout—even a single drop of the King of Gods' life force contained terrifying power.
He looked down at the thunderbolt scepter in his hand.
The scepter was still magnificent, the lightning still dazzling, but he knew that something fundamental had been taken.
It was like a man whose spine had been removed—outwardly intact, but collapsed within.
What was even more frightening was that he vaguely felt that Zeus hadn't just been trying to obtain a more powerful weapon.
That guy must have done something else the moment the scepters touched—some kind of hidden 'exchange'.
'Zeus' struggled to lift his badly wounded body, transformed into a dim streak of lightning, and flew towards Olympus.
He needed to retreat immediately, to carefully examine his divine authority and essence, to ensure no hidden dangers had been planted.
As for 'Hera'...
Thinking of that name, a complex mix of emotions flickered in 'Zeus's' eyes: anger, shame? What else?
That night, when he had burst into the palace and sensed the presence of the other 'him', the rage was real.
But now, in the calm after the storm, he suddenly realized: Hera's reaction that day—that long-lost tenderness and satisfaction—was something she had never experienced with him in a thousand years.
Had the impostor, while playing with him, been... gentler with 'Hera'?
This thought slithered into his heart like a venomous serpent. 'Zeus' shook his head, banishing the distracting notion.
The most important thing now was to recover his strength, uncover the origin and purpose of this other Zeus, and then—
"And kill him." 'Zeus' muttered to himself, his eyes once again condensing with cold murderous intent. "In the most painful way possible."
---
On the peak of Mount Olympus, the palace of the King of Gods was once again shrouded in thunderstorms.
But this time, the thunderstorm was silent, oppressive, like the dead calm before a storm.
And deep within the palace, 'Hera' sat alone on the palace terrace, gazing towards the thunderclouds that had not yet fully dispersed over Corinth, unconsciously touching her lips with her fingers.
The warmth of that night, it seemed, still lingered.