The sky over Olympus stayed the same boring blue it always was, but Athena's face looked like she had swallowed something sour.
She wasn't jealous. Not really. Jealousy was for weaker gods who couldn't handle facts. What pissed her off was the sheer stupidity of it all.
Zeus had taken their new half-mortal brother, dumped a ridiculous amount of power into him, and then basically told everyone else to deal with it.
No plan, no limits, no backup rules. Just raw power handed over like candy. That kind of thing never ended well. It poisoned everything it touched.
Athena stood on one of the wide marble terraces that overlooked the lower slopes of the mountain, arms crossed, staring down at nothing in particular.
She had run the numbers in her head a hundred times. Too much strength given too fast created weak spots. Gaps. Places where the new guy would trip over his own ego and bring half of Olympus down with him when he finally fell.
And Zeus just kept smiling and patting the kid on the back like it was all part of some grand design. Typical.
A familiar voice cut through her thoughts, smooth and way too pleased with itself.
"What happened, oh sister?"
Hermez stepped out from behind a column, golden hair catching the light like he had practiced the angle for hours.
That smug little grin sat on his face exactly where it always did, right between annoying and punchable.
He wore his usual traveler's cloak, light and practical, the kind that screamed "I move fast and I don't care who notices."
Athena didn't even turn her head. She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon and kept walking along the terrace.
Ignoring Hermez was a skill she had perfected centuries ago. Out of all her siblings, only Ares irritated her more, and that was only because Ares punched first and thought never.
Hermez talked first, punched second, and left chaos behind like bread crumbs.
He didn't take the hint. He never did. Hermez slithered right up beside her, matching her pace without effort. His hand drifted toward her waist like he thought she wouldn't notice.
Athena slapped it away hard enough that the sound cracked across the stone. "What do you want, Hermez?"
"Nothing much," he said, still grinning. "Just some info. Some very important info about our dear new bastard brother."
Those words made her stop mid-step. She finally looked at him, eyes narrow. "I'm listening."
Hermez leaned in a little closer, voice dropping like he was sharing state secrets even though they were alone up here. "I have good news. I already sent someone to take care of our little issue."
Athena raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged, casual as ever. "One of my sons. I sent him down there to deal with this so-called issue.
Before our shiny new brother attracts any more attention and starts thinking he's untouchable, my boy will handle it. Quietly. Efficiently. No big scenes for Zeus to notice and throw a tantrum over."
Athena studied him for a long second. Hermez lied as easily as he breathed, but this time he looked almost serious. Almost. "Which son?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" He waved a hand. "He's competent. Fast when he needs to be. And he knows how to make problems disappear without leaving fingerprints all over the mortal world. Relax, sister. I've got it covered."
Athena didn't relax. She never did when Hermez said he had something covered. But she also knew pushing him right now would just make him clam up or start lying more creatively.
So she nodded once, sharp. "Fine. Keep me updated. And if your son screws this up, I will personally make sure Zeus hears every detail of how you tried to fix his mistake behind his back."
Hermez laughed, light and easy. "Always so dramatic. You'll thank me later." He gave her a quick two-finger salute and then he was gone, blurring away in that annoying burst of speed he loved so much.
***
Down on the ground, far below the shining peaks of Olympus, the air smelled like wet dirt and cheap street food.
Two figures stood in the middle of an empty parking lot behind an old warehouse district on the edge of the city.
The sun had already shined high, painting everything orange and long-shadowed. Most normal people had gone home for the day. That was good. Fewer witnesses.
Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying not to look as tense as he felt. He was still getting used to the new weight in his body.
The power Zeus had dumped into him didn't feel like magic or lightning or anything cool from the stories.
It felt like someone had cranked every dial in his system to maximum and then broken the knobs off. Strength, speed, senses—everything sat at 100X what it used to be.
He could hear the hum of electricity in the power lines three blocks away. He could smell the grease from a burger joint four streets over.
And when he moved, even a little, the ground sometimes cracked under his shoes if he wasn't careful.
Shawn stood a few meters away, arms loose at his sides, watching Ethan with the kind of lazy confidence that came from knowing exactly how the next thirty seconds were going to play out.
Shawn was tall, built like someone who spent more time in the gym than most people spent sleeping, and he had that same half-god smirk Hermez wore, just uglier.
Son of Hermez, through and through. Fast talker, faster runner, and always looking for an angle.
"You still don't get it, do you?" Shawn said, cracking his neck. "That 100X multiplier Zeus gave you? It's not a gift. It's a target painted on your back now.
Every minor god, every ambitious half-blood, every bored immortal with something to prove is going to come sniffing around. And you? You're still learning how not to trip over your own feet when you walk."
Ethan didn't answer right away. He kept his breathing steady. The last thing he needed was to lose control and accidentally level the entire block. "So what? You're here to give me friendly advice?"
Shawn laughed once, short and sharp. "Advice? Nah. I'm here to take advantage of it. See, my old man sent me because he figured you'd be easy pickings while you're still figuring out the controls.
I take a little piece of that power for myself, maybe siphon some off, and suddenly I'm not just another one of Hermez's disposable kids anymore. I move up. Way up."
Ethan's hands tightened into fists. He could feel the power surging under his skin, begging to be let out. "You think you can just steal it?"
"I don't think. I know." Shawn took one step forward, and the air around him seemed to ripple. He was fast. Not as fast as his father, but fast enough that normal eyes would have trouble tracking him.
"You're still soft. Still thinking like a mortal. That multiplier makes you strong, sure. But strength without control is just a bomb waiting to go off. And I'm real good at setting bombs off early."
Shawn blurred.
One second he was standing there talking. The next he was behind Ethan, fist already swinging toward the back of his head. The punch carried real weight—demigod strength backed by years of dirty fighting and stolen tricks from a dozen pantheons.
Ethan's new senses screamed a warning half a heartbeat too late. He twisted, but not fast enough. The blow clipped his shoulder instead of his skull.
Pain flared hot and bright, but it didn't drop him. The 100X multiplier absorbed most of it, turning what should have been a knockout into a bad bruise. Still hurt like hell.
Ethan spun around and swung back without thinking. His fist cut through the air with a low whoosh. Shawn dodged easily, laughing as he danced backward.
"See? Too slow on the reaction. You've got the power, but your brain hasn't caught up yet. That's why I'm gonna win this."
Shawn came in again, low this time, aiming for Ethan's legs. He swept one foot out in a blur, trying to take Ethan off balance.
Ethan jumped, clearing the sweep by a good three feet, but when he landed the concrete cracked under his boots like thin ice. The sound echoed between the warehouses.
Shawn didn't stop. He pressed the attack, throwing a rapid series of punches and kicks that came from every angle. Some landed. Most didn't.
Each hit that connected sent jolts of pain through Ethan's body, but none of them were enough to put him down. The multiplier turned his skin into something closer to armor and his muscles into steel cables.
Still, the sheer volume of attacks started to wear on him. He couldn't land a clean counter because Shawn never stayed still long enough.
"You're wasting it!" Shawn taunted, voice coming from left, then right, then behind again. "All that juice and you fight like a drunk toddler. Give it up.
Let me take some off your hands. You'll thank me when you're not walking around like a nuclear reactor with a hair trigger."
Ethan growled and lunged forward, throwing a heavy right hook. Shawn slipped under it, came up inside Ethan's guard, and drove an elbow into his ribs. The crack of bone was audible.
Ethan staggered back a step, breathing hard. Pain radiated through his side, but he could already feel the multiplier kicking in, knitting things back together faster than they should.
Still, it hurt. And it was pissing him off.
Shawn grinned wider. "There we go. Get mad. Make mistakes. That's how this ends with me on top."
He blurred again, aiming for another cheap shot at Ethan's blind side.
This time the hit never landed.
A new figure dropped out of the sky like a sack of bricks, landing hard between them.
The impact sent a shockwave of dust and broken asphalt outward. Marcus straightened up slowly, dusting off his hands like he had just finished a minor chore.
"Enough," Marcus said, voice flat and deep. He didn't shout. He didn't need to. The single word carried weight.