Olympus
Hermez stood on the marble ledge overlooking the lower clouds, arms crossed, his usual smirk fixed in place.
The wind tugged at his golden cloak, but he didn't move. Behind him, a faint ripple in the air appeared—first a shimmer, then a solid shape.
The goddess of velocity stepped out of nothing, silver hair whipping around her face like living wires. She said nothing, only watched the back of his head with flat, unblinking eyes.
Athena floated a short distance away, half-hidden in the white mist that clung to the peaks of Olympus.
She looked down through the layers of cloud, past the floating islands and the golden spires, all the way to the mortal districts far below. A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.
"Oh, you planned ahead?" Hermez asked without turning around. His voice carried the lazy drawl he used when he was annoyed but didn't want to show it.
Athena didn't answer right away. She kept her eyes on the scene unfolding beneath them.
"Indeed. Your sons were already too drunk on the popularity and the power they possessed. Our father's blood runs strong in them, but our bastard brother isn't that dumb."
Hermez stayed quiet. The fake smile on his face slowly dropped away until only a thin line remained. "Okay…" he said at last. The word came out flat.
"You were right to awaken her. But now you've unleashed her, you will know the consequences. There is a reason I caged her. There is a reason she is called the goddess of velocity."
"I know," Athena replied. She finally turned her head toward him.
"I know about your jealousy with your own shadow. I know how your own creation was called the god of speed instead of you." She beckoned with two fingers, a small, dismissive gesture.
Those words landed hard. Hermez's shoulders stiffened. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and said nothing for several long seconds.
When he did speak, his tone had changed. "We really can't see eye to eye, sister. I will take this issue to fath—"
"Father?" Athena cut in, her voice sharp with amusement. "Now complaining to dear old daddy, I see. Always the smug boy. Always were, still are, and always will be."
Hermez stared at her. The air between them crackled with tension.
"….."
Zaap!
A streak of yellow lightning tore across the sky. Hermez vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving only a fading trail of sparks and the low rumble of thunder that followed.
Athena remained where she was, gazing down through the dark clouds that gathered over the lower levels.
She saw more than anyone else could—threads of fate, shifting probabilities, the faint glow of divine blood moving through mortal veins. She felt the weight of every decision that had led to this moment.
"Oh, my new brother," she whispered to the empty air. "This is for your own good. You will thank me later."
She turned and stepped back into the mist, disappearing toward the higher palaces.
***
Speed was the only thing that existed for a moment.
The world blurred into streaks of color and light. Buildings, streets, and floating platforms whipped past so fast they became nothing but lines. Then, just as suddenly, everything snapped back into focus.
They stood in front of a massive black tower that rose straight up into the upper levels of the city. The headquarters of the upper administration.
Lyra Voss slowed to a stop, her silver hair settling around her shoulders like it had never moved. She looked exactly the same as she had in the alley—calm, sharp-eyed, and completely in control.
"Lyra… Lyra Voss, was it?" Marcus asked, still catching his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving.
"Yes, dear. Those are my blissful damn names." She pulled a thin metal card from her coat and held it up to the scanner gate in front of them.
A red light swept across the card, then turned green.
The heavy doors slid open with a low hiss. A number flashed above the gate: Level 47. Only a handful of people in the entire city had access this high.
Ethan glanced down at the watch strapped to his own wrist. The display showed a simple number three. No fancy lights, no special privileges.
These levels weren't something you earned by winning tournaments or completing quests like in the games the lower districts played. They were bought. Plain and simple. Money talked louder than merit up here.
"That's nice of you," Ethan said, keeping his tone even. "Spending all that money for us."
Lyra turned her head just enough to look at him. A small smile curved her lips. "It's called investment, dear. Investment." She walked through the open gate without waiting for a reply.
Ethan and Marcus followed her inside. The moment they crossed the threshold, the air changed—cooler, drier, carrying the faint smell of ozone and polished metal. The corridor opened into a wide central hall.
Hundreds of screens covered the walls, each one showing live feeds from different parts of the city: traffic patterns, energy grids, security cameras, stock tickers for divine artifacts.
People in crisp gray uniforms and augmented glasses sat at long desks, fingers moving across holographic keyboards. Every head turned when the three of them entered.
Lyra stopped in the middle of the room and clapped her hands once. The sound cracked like thunder. Every conversation died instantly. All eyes locked onto her.
"Attention, everyone," she said, her voice carrying without effort. She raised her arm and pointed straight at Ethan. "Look who I have found."
Silence.
Then someone near the back whispered something. The whisper spread like fire through dry grass. "The latest son of Zeus… after centuries…"
The room erupted. Applause, cheers, a few sharp whistles. People stood up from their stations. Someone started clapping louder than the rest. Within seconds the entire hall was on its feet, the noise bouncing off the high ceiling.
Ethan stood still, letting it wash over him. He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He just scanned the faces, noting who looked genuinely excited and who looked like they were calculating how this could benefit them.
After almost a full minute, the noise started to die down. Ethan finally spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear but calm enough to cut through the leftover excitement.
"What is this place?"
Lyra turned to him, still smiling that small, satisfied smile. "This is my den. The den that will push you straight into the world above. Into Olympus."
She gestured around the room with one hand. The screens flickered, and new images appeared—maps of the floating islands, schematics of the golden palaces, security protocols for the highest levels.
The people in the room quieted again, watching her.
Ethan's eyes moved across the displays. He saw routes, weak points, names of officials, amounts of money moving between accounts. This wasn't just an office. It was a command center.
Marcus stepped closer to Ethan and muttered under his breath, "This woman doesn't do anything small, does she?"
"No," Ethan answered quietly. "She doesn't."
Lyra walked over to the largest central screen. With a flick of her wrist, she brought up a new window. A profile appeared—Ethan's face, taken from some security camera earlier that day.
Next to it, lines of text scrolled rapidly: bloodline confirmed, divine signature detected, potential threat level marked as unknown.
"Most of you already know the story," Lyra said, addressing the room. "Zeus has a new son. The first in centuries.
The old families are already moving. Some want to use him. Some want to kill him before he becomes a problem. And some…" She paused and looked directly at Ethan. "…some want to see what he can actually do."
She tapped the screen again. The image changed to a live feed of the streets below. Crowds were still gathered near the arena where the earlier fight had taken place. News drones hovered overhead.
Headlines scrolled in bright red: SON OF ZEUS REVEALED. POWER SURGE RECORDED. HUNT FOR DIVINE HEIR BEGINS.
Ethan felt the weight of every eye in the room on him. He didn't flinch. Instead, he looked straight at Lyra.
"You brought us here because you think I can climb higher than the others," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Exactly," she replied. "The levels above us are locked behind money, connections, and raw power. You already have the blood. I have the money and the connections. Together we can break the locks."
One of the technicians raised a hand. "Ma'am, what about the other heirs? Ares' line has been moving troops toward the mid-levels. Hermez's sons are buying up every speed-enhancing artifact they can find. They won't sit still."
Lyra's expression didn't change. "Let them move. Speed is useful, but it's not everything.
Our new friend here slowed down an entire arena full of fighters without breaking a sweat. That kind of control is rare."
Ethan kept his face neutral, but inside he felt the familiar pressure building. He glanced at the watch on his wrist again.
The number three stared back at him. He remembered the system message that had appeared earlier.
[The goddess of velocity is watching.]
He could feel it now—a faint pressure at the edge of his mind, like someone standing just behind his shoulder. Not hostile. Not yet. Just… observing. Weighing. Deciding whether he was worth the trouble.
Keep watching then, he thought, directing the words inward. And don't you dare attack me.
The pressure eased slightly, as if the observer had heard and accepted the challenge.
Marcus shifted his weight. "So what's the plan? We can't just walk up to Olympus and knock on the door."
Lyra laughed once, short and sharp. "No. We can't. That's why this room exists. Every screen, every feed, every contact I have is aimed at one thing—getting Ethan through the gates before the other families can organize a proper hunt. We start tonight."
She turned to the technicians. "Run the full scan on him. Blood, signature, latent abilities. I want numbers.
Then prepare the ascent package. Level four access papers, false trails for the trackers, and a secure route through the gray zones."
The room exploded into motion. Fingers flew across keyboards. Screens split into new windows. Data streams poured in.
Ethan watched it all without moving. This was the part he had expected. People with power always tried to use him. The difference this time was that he needed what they offered. For now.
Lyra stepped closer to him, lowering her voice so only he and Marcus could hear. "You're not here because I like lost causes. You're here because I see the same thing Athena saw. Potential.
The kind that can shake the entire board. But potential means nothing if you get killed on the first step. So listen carefully."
She held up three fingers.
"First, we raise your level tonight. Four at minimum.
That gives you access to the mid-tiers without setting off every alarm in the city.
Second, we spread controlled leaks—enough to make the other heirs think you're weaker than you are.
Let them underestimate you. Third, you stay close to me until we reach the gates of Olympus. After that, you're on your own. I don't babysit."
Ethan met her eyes. "And what do you get out of this investment?"
Lyra's smile returned, colder this time. "When you sit on the throne, or whatever passes for one up there, you remember who put you there. That's all."
Marcus snorted softly. "Sounds like every politician I've ever met."
"Smart man," Lyra said. She turned back to the central console. "Begin the scan."