The storm didn’t stop. Because the King of the Titans was down... but his army wasn’t. From the broken hills, from the cracks in the earth, from the black clouds above—Titan beasts and loyalists rose like an ocean of wrath. The ones too stubborn to kneel. The ones too proud to stop. They marched now, screaming in old tongues, led by surviving Titans whose names hadn’t yet fallen to silence. But Zeus didn’t wait. He stood above the crater, chest bare, blood running from his side, sparks still hissing around his arms. The broken sky mirrored his eyes—burning, flashing, raging. The clouds split wide. A hundred bolts fell at once—like rain if rain was made of judgment. Titan soldiers evaporated in mid-charge, their bones turned to ash before they could scream. But Zeus wasn’t done. [Skill: Heavenbreaker] Each step was a blow. Not on the land. On the sky itself. With every movement, the air behind him shattered like glass. Lightning arced across the field, dancing like wild beasts toward the enemy lines. A Titan beast—a thing with a hundred arms and one single burning eye—leapt at him from the side. Zeus turned his palm. The monster froze midair—its body suspended in thunder-stilled time. Then Zeus clenched his fist. And the beast exploded in every direction. Thunder echoed for miles. The Titan army faltered for the first time. But still they came. And now they swarmed. He moved forward, into the thick of them. A group of giant warriors surrounded him, armored in obsidian and wielding blades forged from the first mountain’s teeth. [Skill: Sky Rend Barrage] Reappeared behind one—his fist through its back. Reappeared above another—kicked its skull clean off. Reappeared between the last two—drove his hands into the ground. Lightning erupted upward like geysers. They didn’t just kill. They erased. Zeus stood again. Chest heaving. Arms crackling. A new wave charged—this one led by Klymenos, a minor Titan of warlust, screaming with madness, his dual axes drenched in divine blood. "I’ll mount your heart on my chest!" Klymenos roared. [Skill: Wrath Conduction] He pointed a single finger. A bolt snapped through the clouds and into Klymenos’s chest before he blinked. The Titan dropped to one knee, smoking—but roared again, rising. Zeus walked toward him. The ground dimmed beneath each footfall. Thunder responded like drums. Their weapons met—axes against raw lightning wrapped in fists. A shockwave flattened half the field. But Zeus twisted, ducked under the second swing, and— Then five more in the same second. Each hit struck with thunder so loud, Titans across the ridge covered their ears and fell. Klymenos reeled. His mouth opened to scream— Zeus grabbed his throat. [Skill: Storm Crown Execution] A crown of lightning formed above Klymenos’s head—then came down like a guillotine. The Titan exploded midair. Zeus let the ash fall. All across the battlefield, his siblings saw it. Hades tilted his head. Hera, bloodied and breathless, leaned on Nemeia and smirked, whispering, "He’s pissed now..." Even Demeter paused, vines pulsing at her fingertips. But the Titan army didn’t stop. Some were too far gone. One last commander stepped forward—Ophion, a Titan who had once ruled the heavens before Cronus. A skeletal figure with wings of black marble and a voice like crushed stone. "You are not fit to lead the cosmos," Ophion hissed. "I don’t want to lead the cosmos." He stepped forward again. "I just want you all gone." Ophion’s wings spread. [Skill: Gravity Severance] The world around him twisted—gravity flipped. Mountains folded into air. Bodies lifted and fell. Zeus was caught mid-air. Ophion raised his hand. Threw a spear of condensed gravity. Zeus twisted his body midair and— [Skill: Thunder Deflect] Sank a knee into the earth—and the thunder responded like a god. The storm above dimmed for a breath. Then it roared louder than ever. His chest glowed now. Not with lightning. [Skill: Olympian Surge] The storm crashed downward. For a moment, he became light. A column of golden storm that walked like a man. His fist met Ophion’s wing. The wing cracked—then shattered. Zeus landed behind him. Turned. [Skill: Thunder King’s Fall] His heel slammed into the back of Ophion’s neck. The Titan hit the ground so hard it cracked in ten directions. He didn’t move again. Breathing like a man on fire. Around him—the battlefield shifted. The ones who hadn’t yet tasted wrath from a god of sky and storm. Zeus didn’t chase them. He turned to the last remaining soldiers—beasts, creatures, giants, corrupted demigods. He raised his hand again. There were no single bolts. [Skill: Heaven’s Final Verdict] It fell like judgment. Everything that didn’t kneel—vanished. The battlefield fell silent. Only the rain whispered now. Zeus exhaled. Dropped to one knee. His siblings began to walk toward him. Demeter. Poseidon. Hera. Hades. Hestia. All scarred. All bloodied. All alive. The sky above them wasn’t broken anymore. It was open. Ready for a new age. But the lightning in his eyes had softened. Because they had won. That was another battle entirely. The lightning faded, but the smell of ozone still clung to the air. Ash drifted down like black snow. Zeus stood in the silence, knees bent, one hand still pressed to the cracked earth. His breath was deep. Controlled. But tired—like his body had given everything it had. A soft crunch behind him. Prometheus stepped forward first, shirt torn, hands still glowing faint with leftover flame. His brother, Epimetheus, followed—blood running down one temple, but smiling like a man who had finally seen the sun after years of storms. Metis came last. Calm. Elegant. But there was mud on her knees. Ash on her cloak. Her golden eyes watched him like only she could. "You finally won," Prometheus said with a half-smile, offering a hand. Zeus didn’t answer at first. Prometheus pulled him up slow. Epimetheus clapped his shoulder. "That was insane. I thought the sky was going to fall with how much power you pumped through it." "It nearly did," Zeus muttered. Metis stepped closer. She didn’t touch him. Just looked at him, steady and quiet. "What about him?" she asked. Zeus followed her gaze. To the middle of the crater. Where Cronus still lay, barely breathing. Covered in rubble. His scythe snapped in two. Time itself no longer listened to him. The world had moved on. Zeus stared at him for a long moment. Then he looked up—past the mountain ridges. All the way to the far peak of Mount Dikti. There, in the gray light of dawn, stood two silhouettes. Gaia’s eyes glowed faint with ancient sorrow. Her vines curled gently around Rhea’s shoulder. Rhea, for once, didn’t look like the wounded queen or grieving mother. She looked like someone who had waited a long, long time for a storm to pass. Zeus exhaled through his nose. "I’ll let Granny decide," he said simply. Metis raised a brow. "Just like that?" "I fought the war. I ended him. I’m not going to judge him too. I just want to... rest." He sat down again—not collapsed, just lowered. Like the storm had finally left his bones. Prometheus looked back at Cronus. "You sure Gaia will show mercy?" "I’m not," Zeus said. "But it’s not my choice. I’m done choosing who lives and who doesn’t." The wind shifted. Rain finally stopped. For the first time in what felt like forever, the sky was blue. Hera walked past them, bruised but standing tall. She didn’t say anything—just nodded once at Metis, then sat beside Zeus, shoulder to shoulder. Poseidon dragged Triena behind him and flopped down on the other side. Hades stood at the crater’s edge, helm off, watching Cronus like he was seeing the ghost of a future he’d never wanted. Then he turned, and slowly sat near his siblings. Demeter arrived next, wiping blood from her cheek. Hestia followed, wrapping her flame-cloak tighter around herself. No throne. No anthem. No divine lightshow. Sitting together after surviving hell. Metis crossed her arms and smirked. "You know you’ve got to rebuild the world now, right?" Zeus leaned his head back and groaned. "Later." Prometheus chuckled. "Want me to write the speech?" Epimetheus grinned. "We could just make a big dinner and call that a win." Hestia finally smiled. Zeus let his eyes drift closed. And for the first time—