The storm above Olympus had not faded.
Zeus' incarnation remained, towering over the golden halls, his presence a weight that even the gods could barely endure. The world of storms trembled under his will, a power so vast that Olympus itself seemed small before it.
The gods had gathered. Some knelt. Some stood in defiance.
But all of them knew—
A new order had begun.
The Second Oath: Athena Kneels
Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war, had watched the fall of Apollo.
She had seen the power Zeus now wielded.
And she understood.
There was no stopping this.
There was no changing what was inevitable.
And so, as the golden storm raged above Olympus, she knelt.
The gods who still resisted stiffened. Even Hera turned her head, watching in silence.
But Athena did not hesitate.
She bowed before Zeus' incarnation, lowering her head—not in submission, but in acknowledgment.
"You are the storm," she said. "You are the king. And I will follow you."
Thunder roared in approval.
And Zeus spoke only once.
"Rise, Athena, Strategos of Olympus."
She stood, no longer just a goddess.
But the second ruler of the new Olympus.
The Queen's Ascension
Hera had never feared war.
She had ruled alongside Zeus for eternity, shaping Olympus with law and unyielding will.
But now, her husband, her king, had become something else.
And she would not be left behind.
As Athena swore her loyalty, Hera stepped forward.
But she did not kneel.
She placed her hand upon Zeus' incarnation, and in that moment—
She changed.
A golden aura enveloped her, a power not of storms, but of divine rule itself.
For if Zeus was the storm, then Hera was the crown that commanded it.
She had no need to submit.
Because she was already his queen.
And Zeus did not deny her.
The Birth of the Angel Legion
Zeus turned his gaze to the gods who still stood.
To Ares, his once-loyal war god, who refused to kneel.
To Apollo, humiliated, still too weak to stand.
To Hermes, Hephaestus, and the others who had yet to choose.
And he saw the future.
Olympus could no longer rely on those who wavered.
A new army was needed.
Not one of gods.
But one of purity. One of absolute, unquestioning loyalty.
Zeus raised his hand.
And from the storm, they were born.
The First of the Angels
The sky tore open.
From the golden storm, figures of radiant fire and divine lightning emerged.
Each one clad in armor forged from the heavens themselves. Each one wielding weapons shaped from the raw force of storms.
These were not gods.
These were angels.
Beings of celestial might, created for one purpose alone.
To enforce Zeus' will.
At their head stood the first among them—
The strongest, the purest, the warrior who would command them all.
Michael, Archangel of the Storm.
He descended, his presence sending ripples through Olympus.
And as he knelt before Zeus, his voice echoed with divine certainty.
"We are yours, my king. Command us."
Zeus looked upon his creation.
And for the first time, Olympus knew what true order meant.
The Gods Who Remained Silent
Ares clenched his fists.
He had ruled war for eons. But now, he had been replaced.
Apollo, still wounded, looked upon the angels and realized his mistake.
Hermes and Hephaestus stood on the edge of decision.
Would they join this new Olympus?
Or would they be left behind?
The choice was now theirs.
Foreshadowing: The Return of the End
As the Angel Legion took their place in Olympus, another presence stirred beyond the realm of storms.
A presence not of sky.
Not of law.
But of the End.
In the Underworld, Hades had felt it all.
And now, his incarnation would descend.
Because Demeter had made her choice.
And she would not walk to the End alone.