The Whispering Spring — Days Later
The sky was golden with the fading sun, casting long shadows across the water. Steam curled lazily above the spring, and laughter—quiet, relaxed—bounced softly between the trees.
Zeus lounged near the edge of the spring again, arms stretched out along the rocks, bare chest rising and falling steadily, lightning gently crackling in the air around him. His hair was tied back today, loosely, letting his face stay clear as he stared across the spring at Metis, who was pretending very hard not to notice how often he was watching her.
The other sisters had stopped pretending.
"You keep coming here like you own the place," came Styx's voice, sharp and amused from the far side of the spring. She sat with one leg dipped in the water, flicking a small wave toward him.
"Aren't you afraid we'll tell the Titan King his precious son—Zeus, god of ego and thunder—is out here peeping on women while they bathe?"
Her grin was wicked. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Zeus didn't flinch.
He smirked and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"Then you'd just be adding yourselves to the list of people I'll have to punish after I overthrow my dear old dad."
He smiled—charming, dangerous, electric.
Styx scoffed. "You think it's that easy? Just storm in, throw a lightning bolt, and poof, you're king of the cosmos?"
She flicked water toward him again.
"Cronus is the Titan King for a reason. You don't just walk up to the throne and take it. Not even my father—Oceanus—dares say that freely."
Zeus leaned back, staring up at the sky for a moment.
"Maybe he's waiting."
Styx frowned. "Waiting?"
Zeus turned to look at her, eyes calm but burning with something deep. Ancient.
"Waiting for someone reckless enough to try."
The spring went quiet.
Metis finally looked at him, her expression unreadable.
Doris blinked, wide-eyed. "You're serious."
"Dead serious."
Eidyia tilted her head. "Even if you lose?"
Zeus grinned again, this time with teeth.
"Then I die trying. And even if I lose—Cronus will remember my name."
There was silence again, but it was different this time. Heavy.
Metis stood slowly, water dripping from her robes. She stepped closer, just enough that the light caught her eyes.
"Overthrowing Cronus isn't about power," she said softly.
"It's about patience. Precision. Timing."
Zeus looked up at her, meeting her gaze.
He didn't smile this time.
"That's why I need you."
The wind stirred the trees.
And for the first time, Metis didn't look away.
"And what would that be?"
Styx said, her voice wasn't mocking this time. Just steady. Serious.
Zeus looked at her, then at each of the sisters in turn. When his eyes landed on Metis, something in him steadied.
Then he spoke.
"I need my siblings."
Silence.
The wind shifted.
Zeus let the words hang in the air before continuing.
"They're in Cronus. Still alive. Trapped. Waiting."
His voice was quiet, low, but it hit like thunder under the surface.
"And I need to get them out."
Doris blinked, stunned. "You… you're going to make him throw them up?"
"Basically," Zeus muttered, shrugging. "Or rip him open. Depends on how cooperative he's feeling."
Styx stared. "You want to fight Cronus… to free your brothers and sisters? The ones he ate?"
Zeus nodded without hesitation.
"Hestia. Demeter. Hera. Hades. Poseidon. They're not just names. They're mine. My blood. My responsibility."
Eidyia's voice was soft. "Even though you never met them?"
Zeus's jaw clenched slightly.
"I've lived with the weight of their silence my whole life. I don't need to meet them to know they matter."
A long silence followed.
Metis finally stepped forward, the water swirling gently at her ankles.
"You have no army. No allies. No realm under your name. And yet you speak like a king."
Zeus looked at her, unwavering.
"Because I will be one."
Metis studied him—long and hard. Her mind turning like gears behind those ancient eyes.
Then she smiled, small and sharp.
"Then I suppose we better make a plan."
Styx sighed and leaned back. "Oh great. I knew hanging out with him would end in war."
Doris grinned. "You're just mad he didn't fall for you."
"Quiet, river clown."
Zeus smirked and raised a brow. "So that's a yes?"
Styx rolled her eyes but didn't say no.
Eidyia smiled softly. "We'll help you. But you'll need more than lightning and bold words to take on Cronus."
Zeus's grin returned, wild and bright.
"Good thing I've got more than that."
He turned toward Metis.
"You in?"
Metis crossed her arms, then nodded slowly.
"Let's wake the gods."
Deepwood Hollow – Nightfall Among Ancient Roots
The moon had vanished behind a wall of dark clouds, and the forest below Mount Othrys pulsed with strange energy. Trees older than Titans twisted upward like silent watchers, their leaves whispering secrets in a tongue older than stars.
The sisters moved quietly through the undergrowth, their steps light, their presence cloaked. Zeus walked among them—his divine presence dulled, disguised beneath layers of woven mist from Eidyia's enchantments.
"This place stinks of curses," Styx muttered, brushing past a crooked tree bleeding black sap.
"That's how you know it's the right place," Metis replied, eyes scanning the dark.
They came to a stop before a wide, moss-covered stone, cracked down the center. Metis knelt and placed a hand over it.
"The first ingredient," she said, "is Midnight Bloom. A flower that only grows where time has slowed to a crawl. This grove is caught in a time fracture. One wrong step, and you'll age a hundred years or revert into nothing."
She looked at Zeus.
"Ready to test that immortality of yours?"
Zeus smirked. "Let's hope I age gracefully."
He stepped forward into the fracture. The air shifted immediately.
His vision blurred. Sound slowed.
But he kept walking.
Electric sparks danced across his skin as his divine core pushed against the time-warping pressure. He spotted it—Midnight Bloom. A glowing, violet flower rooted in the hollow of a dead tree.
Zeus reached forward, carefully, his gauntlet humming.
He plucked it. The air snapped back to normal.
He held it up.
"One down."
Next: The River That Doesn't Flow
They traveled north to a hidden spring that ran backward—its current flowing from sea to source. A river cursed by Prometheus to hold the Tears of the World—drops of grief from mortals who prayed but were never answered.
To collect them, they needed a vessel blessed by both hope and sorrow.
Doris provided the vessel—fashioned from her own hair and springwater woven by her hand.
Zeus stood at the river's edge, looking at the shimmering current.
"This river's full of regrets," Eidyia said softly.
"It'll try to drown you in your own."
Zeus didn't flinch. "Let it try."
He stepped into the river.
Visions struck him—flashes of the siblings he never met, swallowed before they could speak, laugh, dream. Of Rhea crying alone. Of Metis… swallowed too, if fate stayed true.
His knees buckled.
But then he stood.
And dipped the vessel into the current.
The Tears shimmered inside like starlight trapped in water.
"Two down."
Last Ingredient: The Bone Ash of a Forgotten Titan
This one was guarded.
Deep beneath the ruins of Anemos, the wind-torn temple of a Titan who once tried to steal Chronos's throne, lay the last trace of his body—ashes sealed in a stone urn behind divine wards.
They arrived under moonless sky, Metis whispering spells as Styx shattered ward after ward with cursed blades.
Inside the tomb, Zeus approached the altar. The urn pulsed with dead power.
He reached for it.
A shadow beast formed behind him, built from the Titan's lingering rage.
"Watch out!" Styx shouted.
But Zeus turned calmly.
And raised his hand.
"Smite."
A single bolt of divine lightning pierced the monster like a divine spear. The beast shattered into dust.
Zeus picked up the urn.
"Three."
As they emerged into the night, Metis carried the ingredients in her satchel.
"We have what we need," she said.
"Now we brew the Elixir of Unbinding. Strong enough to make a Titan vomit out a god."
Zeus looked up at the stars.
His smile was gone.
"Get ready."
"I'm bringing my family home."