Divine Ascension: Reborn as a God of Power-Chapter 30: Disappointment

At the place where the first meeting of the Council of New Gods had been planned, there was no trace of order or solemnity. What was happening there was the complete opposite of what had been anticipated.

SLAP!

The sound of the slap echoed loudly in the vast hall with its golden columns and heavenly marble. Zeus's hand, still vibrating with the energy of the impact, trembled slightly in the air. Zagreus staggered back a step, more surprised by the humiliation than by the blow.

Only three figures occupied the room at that moment: Zeus, his son Zagreus, and Hera, who watched from a side throne, silent, her lips pursed and her eyes filled with disappointment.

"I allowed you to organize this ridiculous council because I believed you could handle it," Zeus said, his voice a thunderous rumble. "I thought you had finally matured. But I was wrong. You are still the same spoiled, immature child you always were, Zagreus."

The young god brought his hand to his face, where the echo of the punishment still burned. He lowered his gaze, as if wanting Tartarus to swallow him up.

"I... I'm sorry, Father. Believe me, I didn't mean for things to end up like this. But with so many gods gathered together, the egos, the old grudges... everything got out of control, and..."

"I don't care about your excuses!" interrupted Zeus, stepping forward. His voice cut through the air. "You were the organizer, you decided who to invite and how many. If you made bad choices, it's your responsibility. Learn this and engrave it on your soul: the mistakes of those under your command are also yours. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father..." Zagreus murmured, his voice choked with shame.

"LOUDER!" Zeus roared, unleashing an aura of power that lit up the hall as if the sun itself had risen inside it. His voice, amplified by his divinity, made the walls vibrate.

"YES, FATHER!" Zagreus shouted in a firm voice, infected by the heavenly roar.

The light of the aura gradually faded, and Zeus took a few steps back, regaining his imposing calm.

"Good," he said in a more serene tone, though no less serious. "However, I did not come here just for your failed advice. My presence has nothing to do with your little gathering."

Zagreus raised his head, surprised. Confusion shone in his eyes. Even Hera turned her face slightly, interested in her husband's words.

"Then... why are you here?" asked the young god, his voice heavy with unease.

Zeus narrowed his eyes. There was something dark in his gaze, something that even he seemed hesitant to put into words.

"I have received disturbing information," he said at last. "For some time now, there has been widespread discontent among the gods. You know that I have always had detractors since I took the throne of Olympus. Some closer than you might imagine. But now... this is no longer a whisper. According to my sources, a resistance has been born. One that not only questions my rule, but the very idea that a single god should rule the entire cosmos."

Zagreus held his breath. The air suddenly felt thicker.

"A rebellion...?" Zagreus muttered, more to himself than as a real question. The very idea of wanting to overthrow the King of All seemed blasphemous to him. It was like looking at the sky and deciding that the sun didn't deserve to shine. After all, to him, his father was a sacred figure who had always cared for him. The mere idea of a conspiracy against him confused and irritated him. How could anyone question his father's mandate?

Meanwhile, Zeus just nodded, his face carved in granite, without a trace of emotion.

"Yes. Apparently, dozens of gods are involved. I don't know yet who is organizing or promoting it, but I do know this: several of the guests who were coming to your meeting today are involved. And not passively. They are active players. Instigators."

Zagreus's heart stopped for a moment. He could accept many things: failure, punishment, even humiliation... but betrayal, and worse, being part of it without knowing it, stirred his soul.

His thoughts rushed together, and suddenly an idea, a terrifying possibility, broke through his mind like a crack in marble.

"Do you think I'm a traitor? Do you think I organized the meeting to gather followers... and overthrow you?"

Zeus did not respond immediately. His eyes, as ancient as time itself, stared at him without blinking, and his silence weighed more than any words. Finally, he spoke in a neutral voice, as if stating a fact rather than an opinion.

"I never said that."

But the lack of a complete denial was no less cruel. On the contrary, it left open a crack of doubt into which Zagreus' entire world could fall.

"Although I must admit that I have my doubts about the meeting. I find it strange, ill-timed... naive. But I don't believe you are capable of betraying me. Not deliberately."

Zagreus blinked, confused and curious at the same time. If he didn't believe he was a traitor... then what did he believe?

"Why?"

Zeus sighed, like a father tired of repeating truths that are never fully understood.

"You see, son... during my reign as King of the Cosmos, I have been able to rule thanks to a careful but refined judgment. This judgment gives me the belief, no, rather the certainty, that there are two types of beings in this world. Those who wish to rule, and those who wish to serve. And you, my son... I very much doubt that you are of the first type."

"What...?" muttered Zagreus, baffled by the apparent contradiction.

"Don't misunderstand me," Zeus continued, "I'm not saying you have no will. You actually have a strong character, sometimes unbearably stubborn. But throughout your entire existence, there has always been someone else fixing your mistakes. Guiding you. Holding you back so you don't fall headfirst into the hole you dug for yourself."

Zeus crossed his arms, as if he were talking to a statue instead of his son.

"It's not just that you need someone to tell you what to do. It's that, deep down, you want it. It makes you feel secure. It relieves you of having to decide. It's not weakness... not entirely. It's... dependence."

Each word was a nail in Zagreus' pride. He felt the blood boiling in his veins, but he didn't know if it was rage or shame. That his own father—the King of the Gods—whom he admired and looked up to as a role model, considered him some kind of eternal follower, a prince unworthy of the scepter, hurt him more than any blow he had ever received in his life.

"I... I think so," he finally said, his voice low, automatic, lifeless. It was as if someone else was speaking for him, someone ashamed of his existence.

Zeus watched him silently. There was no victory in his eyes, no mockery. Only a kind of resignation.

"Anyway," he said at last, turning slightly, "my original plan was to appear here with Hera. To disguise my presence as paternal courtesy, not to arouse suspicion. To investigate the reactions of your guests. To see if any of them made a mistake in front of me."

He paused, looking at the empty chairs in the hall, as if the shadows of those who never came could still be seen in them.

"But since that's no longer possible... I'd like you to give me a list of all the guests at your... ahem, council."

Zagreus nodded, saying nothing. He felt small. As if his whole body had been shrunk by the weight of disappointment.

Zeus looked at him one last time and smiled ironically.

"Good boy."

Then he turned around and began to walk toward the exit of the hall. Hera was still in a daze, unable to believe the words that had come out of her husband's mouth as she followed him stealthily.

Meanwhile, the imposing figure of the god cast a shadow that seemed to swallow the light in its path.

"Oh, and before I go, remember to clean up this mess. Remember that this room has several uses for other gods," he said simply, ignoring his son's lost gaze as he walked out the door to his throne on Olympus. His wife followed behind him.

Zagreus stood in the middle of the empty room, the echo of his father's last words resounding like a war drum: "Good boy."

His fists clenched. His arms trembled, not from fear, but from a contained rage that began to build like a hurricane in his chest. Every muscle in his body was tense, every part of his being burned with a mixture of shame, helplessness... and fury.

Zagreus looked toward the door through which Zeus had left, and for a moment he wished he had the strength to follow him, to confront him, to shout that he was not an obedient dog. That he was not useless and did not need to be treated like a child.

But he did not move. Because he knew that, for now, he could not.

And that made him even more miserable.

With a roar of frustration, he threw one of the council chairs against one of the columns. The sacred wood split with a sharp crack, and the vibration spread through the marble as if the temple itself had felt his anger.

"DAMN YOU!" he shouted, not knowing if he was addressing his father, himself, or the gods mocking him from the shadows.

He was breathing heavily, like a wounded animal. His eyes burned with tears he refused to let fall. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to give anyone that pleasure.

He leaned against one of the walls, panting, his forehead sweaty and his jaw clenched.

'Two types of beings?' he repeated bitterly in his mind. 'To rule or be ruled?'

And what about those who want neither? What about those who just want to be free?

And then, like a spark in a powder keg, an idea began to ignite.

First it was just an intuition. Then a clear thought and finally a concrete possibility.

And finally... he took a decision.

He slowly straightened up, no longer trembling. And his face had changed, now hardened. His eyes were no longer clouded by confusion, but by a new and dangerous clarity.

'Join the rebellion...?'

The idea would have seemed unthinkable a few minutes ago. An act of insane madness and a betrayal to the very order of the universe.

But now... now it had a different flavor.

He wouldn't do it out of conviction. Not because he believed in a new order. Not even because he thought Zeus should fall.

He would do it for something darker.

Perhaps for his wounded pride. For rage. Or simply for revenge.

'If he thinks so much that I am incapable of betraying him... then let him suffer when he discovers how wrong he was.'

He would not admit it out loud. Not even to himself. But deep down in his soul, the decision had already been made.

He was going to find those rebel gods and join their cause.

And if he found a place among them... Then he would let Olympus tremble.