If someone vomited in front of you and then proceeded to puke out five living people, what would you say?
But if this was ancient Greece before the Common Era, the vomiter was Kronos, and you were Zeus—what then?
"Numb."
Zeus stared at the wine in his hand, then at Kronos, who was still heaving like a cat with a hairball problem. At this point, he had two choices:
The father dies, and the son laughs—or things get very messy.
---
A Few Hours Earlier
On the west coast of Crete, a strikingly handsome white-haired young man stood at the shore. He had just finished weaving a makeshift raft, hoisted a white sail, and let the sea breeze carry him far away from the island.
"Gaia, you can't trap me forever! Hahahaha!"
Zeus laughed like a lunatic. Finally—finally—he was free! As long as he was on the ocean, beyond the reach of solid ground, Gaia's divine influence wouldn't be able to hold him back. After eighteen long years, his escape was complete.
"I don't care if I starve to death at sea and my body gets eaten by fish—I'm never going back to that damn island!"
This young man was Zeus. Not the Zeus of myths, but a modern man who had somehow ended up trapped in this ancient world. And let's be real—eighteen years without the internet was practically medieval torture.
For nearly two decades, he had survived by wrestling wild beasts and eating whatever he could scavenge. Worse still, the one who raised him was none other than Gaia, the Earth Mother. And his dear old dad? Oh, just Kronos, the guy who made a habit of swallowing his own children whole.
Good guy. Zeus had no words—just, good guy.
---
"Zeus, in order to defeat your father, you need your siblings. I have an emetic wine here. Just trick your father into drinking it, and then—"
"Yeah, how about no?"
Gaia had barely finished explaining her genius plan when Zeus immediately noped out of the conversation.
First of all, patricide wasn't really on his to-do list. Secondly, how was an 18-year-old supposed to go up against the literal King of the Titans?
Sure, Zeus had discovered that he could discharge a little electricity since he was a kid, but that was barely enough to electrocute fish for dinner. He wasn't about to test whether his sparks were stronger than the power of time itself.
And that was precisely why, instead of following Gaia's plan, Zeus had ditched Crete overnight.
Theoretically, Gaia controlled all land. But as long as he stayed on water, she couldn't track his movements. Of course, he couldn't just drift forever—sooner or later, he'd need to go ashore for food, and Gaia would find him again. But for now? Freedom.
"Nice try, Gaia, but you can kiss my foot-washing water."
Zeus grinned as he opened his bag. Inside was a single treasure: a goat's horn. But this wasn't just any goat horn.
A few days ago, while he was wrestling a particularly stubborn goat in the forest, he had "accidentally" broken one of its horns. And thanks to some divine tinkering, this horn was now connected to Gaia's treasure vault.
Translation? Unlimited free food.
Zeus cackled as he pulled out some fresh fruit. "Hades, Poseidon, Hera… sorry, but I gotta look out for number one. No matter how fast lightning is, it's not faster than time. Don't hold it against me in the afterlife, yeah?"
He popped a grape into his mouth. Ah, the sweet taste of betrayal.
---
Just as he was enjoying his moment of peace, a faint cry reached his ears.
"Help… Help…"
Zeus frowned. He was in the middle of the ocean—who the hell was screaming for help out here?
Scanning the horizon, he spotted an old man dressed in expensive robes, barely clinging to a piece of driftwood.
Save or not?
Normally, humans shouldn't exist in this era—at least, not clothed ones. But according to Gaia, humanity had been born, just without any established civilization yet.
Which meant this guy was no ordinary human.
Zeus's eyes gleamed. Gods loved their little "tests"—help them, and maybe they'd give you a divine blessing or something.
This was a golden opportunity.
"Old man, don't worry! I'm coming!"
Zeus rowed over as fast as he could, pulling the old man aboard.
"Thank you, young man," the elder wheezed. "I'm parched… could I trouble you for a drink?"
"Of course! I have the finest wine right here!"
Zeus smirked as he reached for his goat horn. Technically, everything inside belonged to Gaia, but hey—what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
He rummaged around until he found a particularly luxurious-looking wine jug.
The moment he opened it, an intoxicating aroma flooded the air. The wine was a deep, almost blood-red color, and just one whiff made Zeus feel a little lightheaded.
"Good wine," the old man murmured, his eyes shining with hunger. The weak, frail look from earlier? Completely gone.
Busted.
Zeus saw right through the act but played along anyway, pouring the wine into a cup.
"Here you go, old man. A drink to warm you up after soaking in seawater for so long."
"Ahh, you are a fine young man indeed!"
Hook, line, and sinker.
The old man eagerly downed the entire cup—only for his face to twist into confusion.
"Strange… it tastes good, but… a bit… too intoxicating…"
Then, with a dull thud, he collapsed.
Zeus blinked. "Old man? Uh… old man?"
No response.
Then came the gurgling.
"Ughh… huuaaahhh—!"
Before Zeus could even process what was happening, the old man's body started convulsing violently. A second later, he threw his head back and let out a monstrous, ear-splitting retch.
Blaarghh!
Zeus flinched. "Ugh, dude, if you're seasick, warn me next time!"
But then—flash!
From the depths of the old man's throat, five brilliant white lights shot out, twisting in the air before landing on the deck.
As the glow faded, Zeus found himself staring at five unfamiliar figures—three women and two men, all ridiculously attractive. But something about them felt… oddly familiar.
The eldest woman stepped forward, her expression soft.
"Sixth brother, thank you for saving us."
Zeus's brain short-circuited.
Wait. Wait.
Did she just call him… sixth brother?!
His gaze darted between the five figures and the unconscious old man on the floor. The realization hit him like a truck.
The old man wasn't just any old man.
He was Kronos.
And these five?
Hades. Poseidon. Hera. Demeter. Hestia.
His siblings.
Zeus stared at them. Stared at Kronos. Stared at the now-empty wine jug in his hands.
Then he finally muttered the only thing that made sense.
"...What the actual hell did I just do?"