Through intersecting channels of Ocean and Underworld, Ginrius, Hades, and Poseidon reached Olympus undetected. They found the place in a rare, corporate holiday mood, empty and uneventful enough to look closed for the day.
But up the steps leading to the palace, Heracles blocked their path in a high and mighty stance, all prepped for beatdown with his golden lion armor. His club was another cautionary tale: intimidating came in varying shapes and sizes, and his took the form of a modified, steampunked Olympian pillar, fitted with a handle the length of a laundry pole. The proxy on the battlefield was, in all likelihood, a shapeshifter, the timeless Olympian trick for every occasion.
"You think you're the only one with schemes?" the god of strength roared beneath his bestial helm. He began his descent towards his rebellious kin, making sure to wear that patented invincible grin of his.
Ginrius and Hades braced themselves for the encounter, just to have an anticlimactic Poseidon get in the way. "I'll handle him. Just go and finish all this now," he told them.
It was very odd to see a deity, mostly associated with water, burn with such pride and conviction. And though worried of the matchup, Hades knew to respect such resolve. He nudged his son to move on, and after bidding his younger brother farewell, followed suit.
Surprisingly, Heracles did not get in their way, and was content on just relaying his ominous speech. One swing of that club would have been enough to set them back a whole year, or cancel the trip altogether. "You should have stayed in the Underworld, Hades… now you shall experience death like no other."
Only Ginrius seemed to have paid this warning some heed, and for a moment, as his eyes locked with his cousin's, he knew he wasn't the bluffing kind. This was the same man who threatened the sun with a bow and arrow—and meant it; the same simpleminded bloke who pulverized masonry for looking too real. There were no hidden messages between his lines. Confidence in his father's might was such that he allowed his biggest opposition a free pass. Of course this sentiment was also backed by the involvement of Hera, the goddess who made his life a living Tartarus.
When you take everything into account, it was amazing how Hades remained unabashed by the shifting odds. It was three against two on a worst-case scenario; now it's an even pairing, if you can even call it that. Was he that confident of his strategy? If the delivery of the Anti-Zeus succeeded in the first place, shouldn't the war be over before it even started? These thoughts kept Ginrius occupied as they clambered towards the final boss, enough a distraction to mute the explosive opening of Poseidon's bout with Heracles.
Tensions have never been this high. So imagine their reaction when they finally breached the interior and found Zeus just chillin' on his throne, feasting on a banquet with his wife, Hera. No surprise numbers this time, no tired flashbacks of the more peaceful, bygone days, just parting dialogue.
Rising up, Zeus greeted his unwelcome guests. "Well met…"
Even without the Aegis, the king of the gods looked incredibly daunting. In fact, his bare attendance made him look more formidable than he otherwise would in layered steel. There was a reason why Heracles was the greatest demigod to ever live, and that reason was Zeus. The god had the kind of build that forgo the use of protection, shaped not by status like most of his kin, but with hardships and war.
As with everything, Hades would not be affected by this, and his son Ginrius, at least succeeded in guising his reservations. Their treason made them a more alienating presence in that hall—there was strength to be found in that as well. "Last chance, brother," the former said as he reproduced his dark blades. "Just lay down and we can all return to how it used to be… There is no point to being this proud and petty about something so trivial."
"You should be the one to surrender, brother," reprised Zeus. He produced the vial Dionysus delivered, and then smashed it down the ground. "Your plan has failed. Even with our father's improved weapon, you cannot win… You know full well that I am beyond even Typhon now."
"Is that so?"
Zeus looked a bit triggered, but in staying silent, Hades found the chink to reinforce his point. "Ginrius here is fighting for the love of his life. Can you honestly say the same for yourself? If not, then I rest my case."
The surging currents around Zeus gave his mood away—and his opinion. When Ginrius labored to speak his mind next, he just wouldn't have it. "SILENCE!!!" the godking thundered. His rage alone proved enough to demolish the structure, replacing their contest to the outdoors. "Oh you may rest brother—you may rest in peace…" he continued in a bipolar tone shift. He began to approach his challengers, but was held back by his wife a few steps in.
"To the glory of Olympus!" Hera exclaimed, raising two goblets of ambrosia before them.
Zeus accepted the toast by downing the beverage wildly. "To the glory of Olympus!" This ritual seemed to boost his ego further. The king wasn't pulling any punches this time, and to prove it, he skipped straight to his full lightning form. As usual the heavens worked with him, turning sourly dark and pelting him with more discharge. He towered over the arena in a surge of cobalt and golden energy, looking godlier than it was legally and cosmically allowed.
"I don't know about you, pops, but he looks the exact opposite of enervated," Ginrius said as he traced the monstrous form of the competition. "Do you have a secret strategy for this one?"
Hades provided no consolation save for a non-answer caveat. "Just watch out for his attacks—and use the sword as soon as you see an openi—"
Zeus launched his offensive before the dark god could finish: a giant wave of pure energy that disintegrated everything it touched. The father and son duo got separated as they got out of the way, and it became clear that Ginrius was the main target. The king shrugged off all of Hades' attack and threw veritable storms at the lankier godsmith. And when the dark god tried to counter with hi sea of darkness, Hera stepped in with a breakwater defensive.
Left in a bind, Ginrius turned to his hammer. As the storm of the century closed in on him, he raised the weapon up, causing the strong winds to turn neutral. Then, as part of the two-tiered miracle, he absorbed all the lightning with it, before shoving it right in the face of its caster.
The godking couldn't believe what he just witnessed, especially when the hammer struck and actually hurt him. It was the first time his own lightning was used against him, and worse, it was accomplished by someone as lowly as his crippled son's surrogate.
Ginrius himself first looked surprised that his mod worked, before going full-blown ecstatic about it. "How'd you like that, your highness?!" he boasted. As soon as the hammer returned, he exploited the opening and pummeled Zeus with more vicious strikes, each blow draining the king's energy further.
But just when the timing felt right for Cronkris to be drawn, the godking reverted to his corporeal form, and the lightning force back to its base polearm function. He then backhanded the outbalanced Ginrius, who went sailing past walls to land on the far side of Olympus. Hades can be heard yelling in the background, but was too busy dealing with Hera to lend his aid.
Apparently, Zeus was switching tactics too. With the lightning spear, he summoned back all his wayward energy, all the way to the storm clouds above them. The sky regained its healthier palor and so did the godking, as he began to imbibe the reimbursed power.
When Ginrius rose from the rubble, he became witness to an even more terrifying adversary. Zeus grew in proportion to the energy he absorbed, buffing up as though he had misread a steroid prescription. He now used his reserves to augment his physical strength, forgoing most of the flashy, magicky stuff he was best known for. His anger had also grown to such extent, that it manifested a dark aura around him, closer to the image of the void than that of a god's.
The result of these changes hit the godsmith hard, literally. Zeus descended upon him faster and harder than Hermes and Heracles combined. He was able to block the attack, but it easily crumbled his defenses, much like when he hacked the king with the Cronkris before. Sensing how far outmatched he was, he thought of drawing the weapon at last, only to have Monster Zeus push it back down its scabbard, and then giving him a gut punch that shattered the rest of his armor. When he got fisted in the jaw next, he thought he was dead as he shot straight up the air and blacked out, yet felt it still when the enemy zoomed past to smash him back to the ground.
Immobilized with hurt, Ginrius knew he was done for. Zeus was rocketing back down again, and when he landed, that would be it. That meteor charge of his was probably powered with everything he's got; without any protection left, a humble godsmith would be all but vaporized.
Then it rained mystic arrows from out of nowhere, forcing Zeus to postpone his attack. Artemis crashed in astride a Hein, shooting more projectiles to keep the godking on the defensive.
"Why are you here, Artemis?" Ginrius spoke weakly.
"You gave me a mark, and I never miss one," said the goddess, nocking eight arrows at once.
"Heracles? You mean he's dead?"
Artemis' response was stunted, hinting the grim revelation in advance. "Yes. Unfortunately, so does Poseidon… He damaged Heracles enough so I could land the final blow, but it was too late for him. The far battlefield is also ridden with casualties, Thanatos included."
A difficult sigh weakened Ginrius further. They were down two gods and Zeus was nowhere near beaten. At this rate, the king of the gods would score another major victory, cementing his rule as the greatest of all time. "Does father know?" he asked next.
Right then, a familiar darkness covered time and space. Hades finally broke free of Hera, though how much help he would be was still up for review. Ginrius heard the dark god mutter, "Now is the time, child," and felt the area around them change. They were no longer in the sun-kissed boundaries of Olympus, but in a snow-covered region that felt like tables turning. They were also enclosed in an arena of runic pillars that seem to rekindle the godsmith's waning might. He grinned as he addressed the disoriented Zeus. "I gather you know where we are?"
"Yes," Zeus growled out of character, looking around. "But you are a fool to believe that you can keep me here!" He launched himself against the pillars, only to be denied by its boundaries.
"That would be unwise, brother," the voice of Hades echoed from above this time. "I am certain that given enough allowance, you can muscle your way out of there… but I daresay it's wiser to focus on the more immediate threat."
Ginrius took it as cue to raise himself back up. He looked more impressive with his do-over of braided, fire-red hair, and armor that sported a cape and links of enchanted silver. He slid the Cronkris out to wield with his surging hammer—the bell had just rang for the third and final round.
***
On the eve of the battle, Hades revealed another failsafe to his interweaving plans; this time involving the cage he commissioned Ginrius to build. In case the Zeus affair went further south, he had arranged for its delivery to the Nordic realms, where they would ensnare the king on fairer battlegrounds. In these parts, the people perceived the godsmith as a mightier warrior, a defender that was on par with the king himself. Armed with the Cronkris, this development would help Ginrius level with Zeus, if not supersede him entirely. When he had beaten the king senseless, he would be freed by the dark god directing the choreography from behind the scene.
An yet even with these adjustments, it seemed that Zeus had no desire to submit. The king of the Nordic pantheon was no slouch himself, and was a legit war god in his own right. He traded thundering blows with his promoted subject, rocking the Sisyphus cage with its pay-per-view treatment of Ragnarok.
Cronkris was especially punishing to the integrity of their arena, tearing up pillars and runes each time it missed its target. It didn't take long for Zeus to notice this trend, and so shifted focus on dodging attacks than landing them. Disarming Ginrius was pointless when his weapons returned to him with such overt sentience.
When one of the runic pillars looked ready to go, Zeus hurled his spear to it one last time. It exploded and dominoed into the rest until the cage was no more. As soon as he was free, he grabbed the shocked Ginrius and deported back to Olympus, reverting them both to their original state.
Hades was quick to follow and move Ginrius out of harm's way. The standoff was to continue with Zeus regaining his insurmountable lead. "Got any more brilliant plans, brother?" the latter inquired.
The dark god's response was an inching retreat with his son, who was in no shape to resume combat. It took all he had to wield the power of Cronkris, and with the damage he sustained, it became a challenge to even stay vertical. Zeus on the other hand, soberly paced towards them, filled with enough rage to go for plenty more rounds.
And then he wasn't.
A few yards off his quarry, the king fell to his knees retching. He started coughing, first with blood, and then with something even more precious: his being. Out came bits of his godly essence, followed by the still impressive form of his ex-wife, Metis. Then something else pewtered out, and though it seemed but dregs at first, it emanated a force of its own. This alien power saw a gradual increase that surpassed even Zeus'.
In the succeeding moments, the value of this substance would be known, as Hades scooped it into a vial, along with the king's essence. It brewed itself to a golden elixir, which he handed to the ailing Ginrius for consumption. "There's your answer, brother," he told Zeus wisely.
"H-how?" Zeus faltered on the ground. His wretched condition was no longer that of a god's, but more similar to a mortal in his final moments.
"Why don't you ask the wife?" answered Hades.
Hera then came for her wasted husband. She held him in her arms, weeping for the first time in eons. "It was the only way… Forgive me." she said. It was a soapy moment to touch the most callous of hearts. Zeus may have been a sovereign douchebag, but bad guy decay in the climax appealed to everyone's caramel center.
Disbelief overtook the fallen king. Questions ran in his failing mind, until it stumbled upon the toast he took earlier. It was laced with poison, specifically, the Anti-Zeus potion he thought he had taken out of the picture. Hera probably swapped the vial while everyone geared for battle. His own wife was Hades' inside man, and if that wasn't enough to hurt a god, nothing else would.
Ginrius also put two and two together. His father's cunning was such that he had the potion delivered where it needed to be, at the same time rooting out the traitor within their midst. He tricked everyone in the board to achieve this goal, even so far as producing a fake-genuine brew to prevent collapse from the army's morale.
"You have reigned a good reign, husband, now it's time we retire… We all know about the corruption of Chaos—how you've been fighting it off all this time…" Hera continued, before turning to Hades. "Now keep your end of the bargain and send us to paradise."
Hades walked right over, kneeling down himself to caress his brother. Zeus was now too weak to even try speaking. "Just rest, brother—we'll be all right. Rest so the swelling Chaos inside you could die." He switched to Hera, who just loaned out her own essence.
After receiving the goddess' being, the dark god returned the gesture with a touch, further demoting the now mortal couple to dust. He stood before their remains, contemplating over the unassigned power he held.
The arrangement was a steal for Hera, who had suffered his beau's infidelity since time immemorial. As gods, they were not eligible to find peace in death, but as mortals favored by the Underworld, they have a claim for complete Elysium benefits. Polygamy would be a task in an exclusive haven as well, making it the perfect honeymoon destination. And if Zeus considered this outcome torture, it would be all the more satisfying for everyone.
Hades was soon joined by Ginrius, who had not only fully recovered but boasted new and improved vitality as well. The Zeusforce—and that of his devoured son—had melded with his own, and it showed in his everything. He was no longer just the lowly godsmith; if anything, he was more fit of the pantheon crown than any. "Do you have any plans for that?" The son asked his father, eyeing this ownerless power pulsing in his hand. "If not, I think I may have one for stopping this war once and for all."
They both shot the unconscious Metis a look, thinking how they probably shared the same idea. Even the way their faces lit up likened a reflection.
As above, so below—like father, like son.