Surely Not for That?
"No way, you're thinking of that?"
Even if Zeus's specialty was waking up in the middle of the night for any woman, impregnating beauties regardless of origin or race without ever missing a shot...
"Isn't that condition more than enough to make 'surely not' a reality?"
The Secret Book's jab left me speechless for a moment.
"But I'm from another dimension. Hard to call me his son."
"Harpocrates himself came from another dimension originally. Before settling in Olympus, he was known as Horus."
What? Horus—the falcon-headed god from Egyptian myth? So he started in that pantheon and crossed over here?
If gods hopped dimensions that casually, Zeus 100% had sons in other worlds too. The guy lived by the motto "I claim it, therefore it exists."
"Honestly, son or not, does it matter?"
"True enough. He's just useful, so they're testing him out with some power first."
With that, I forced a look of sheer, reverent awe onto my face and cried out to the Goddess of Order., Eunomia.
"Is that truly so?!"
Agamemnon and the warriors were equally awestruck.
"Power from the supreme god!"
"This marks the start of a legend!"
"An honor without equal!"
Even with the goddess of order right there, no one could contain their excitement. But Eunomia just smiled warmly, unperturbed.
"Goddess Eunomia, what exactly do you mean by 'power'?"
When I asked out of curiosity, she explained kindly.
It is a fragment of the supreme god's divinity. With it, you can do as you desire. Of course, should you act against propriety, it will be reclaimed.
Divinity. No way, no way—Zeus was going all out.
Divinity was the essence unique to gods, beyond mortals. Handing it over like this?
"Peleus, there's something in Eunomia's words."
"What?"
"She said you can do 'as you desire.' Meaning they're bestowing raw, unrefined chaos itself."
I grasped the Secret Book's point instantly. Unprocessed divinity was called "chaos" in the forbidden tome.
The recipient was free to shape it however they wished. Heracles's jewel contained Zeus's divinity too—refined into superhuman strength, like carving a raw gem into a desired cut.
"Zeus is testing your potential by granting chaos. He'll watch if you can wield it, and what you make of it. Evaluating your aptitude."
"Cunning bastard."
I sneered inwardly but kept up a facade of utmost humility.
"I wonder if I'm worthy of the supreme god's grace."
Zeus has decreed it, so worry not, prince of a foreign land. How you wield it is entirely up to you.
Zeus's power was pearls before swine to the unqualified. Meaningless to most humans, like giving a gun to a monkey.
But I wasn't worried. I'd already been vetted for Zeus's divinity.
No need to look far—hadn't I squeezed every last drop from Heracles's jewel?
The Secret Book chimed in.
"Harpocrates chose you perhaps because he saw your talent for handling Zeus's divinity. Only a rare few humans are fit for the supreme god's power. Even Atreus's bloodline lacks the aptitude to wield that sword over there. But you swung it and blasted Artemis's divine beast on your first try. Maybe fate itself picked you."
It rang true. Now I understood why Harpocrates chose me over the High Priest.
He'd probably been watching silently since I got Heracles's jewel. Showed me the forbidden tome, worked behind the scenes. When the apocalypse hit and Cycnus invaded, he regressed me like he'd been waiting.
Gods were gods—scheming across ages.
"Goddess, I will heed your words."
I expressed gratitude and accepted the power. Eunomia extended her hand toward me.
Brilliant light poured from her palm, flooding over me.
"Oh...!"
The light had texture, prickling my skin as it seeped in, coalescing into a lump inside me.
"Congratulations!"
"A warrior blessed by the gods!"
"Zeus's light upon a mortal!"
Gasps erupted around us. The supreme god's favor was priceless.
Agamemnon looked green with envy. For an heir-wannabe, his great-grandfather Zeus's power was the ultimate prize.
But that glory went to the victor. Losers groveled on cold stone—that was the way of the world.
"Thank you for this unparalleled honor! I will do my utmost not to sully the supreme god's name!"
I accepted boldly. Eunomia nodded with a smile.
May fate stand with you.
Her business done, Eunomia turned to Agamemnon. She'd mentioned words for him earlier.
Not a reward—Zeus was ice-cold to losers. He'd scorned even his daughter Artemis after the Calydonian boar.
Agamemnon might get punished for fainting on the stone.
His face darkened.
Fear not, prince of Mycenae. Zeus says you will rise greater from today's failure.
Forgiven, huh? Agamemnon sighed in relief, overcome.
"Thank you! This will never happen again."
Excellent, prince of Mycenae. With such resolve, you can overcome the crisis besetting your royal house.
Agamemnon's face stiffened at the sudden mention.
"What crisis do you mean?"
Zeus says King Atreus of Mycenae flickers like a candle in the wind. A cannibal giant hunts him—hasten to save your great king, prince. A second failure will not be tolerated.
With that, the goddess vanished after wishing us fortune.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd before the auspicious aura fully faded.
"Your Highness! The great king in peril?!"
"He's out hunting now! We must go!"
The warriors clamored, but Agamemnon brooded coldly.
Old memories stirred in me too. Cannibal giant... Something nagged.
"Your Highness! Why so silent?!"
"This is no trifle!"
Even as they urged mounting up, Agamemnon stood firm. Then, in a voice like frost:
"All of you, shut up!"
His royal dignity silenced the boiling warriors instantly.
"I know my father's life hangs in the balance. How could I hold back? But he's gone far afield. By the time we arrive, it may all be over."
Too late to catch up, even now. Eunomia said Atreus was in immediate peril. Swift action was needed.
"Peleus, a word?"
"Of course."
"One thing: a way to reach my distant father before dawn."
"What is it?"
Agamemnon revealed the royal house kept two Pegasi.
Winged horses, divine beasts gifted by Zeus himself.
"Pegasi are royal sacred beasts. None ride without the great king's leave—even he rarely takes them from the stable save for dire need."
"Then you can use them, Your Highness?"
"It would be overstepping. But with his life at stake, rules be damned."
Plus Zeus's warning: no second mistakes. Failure here meant ruin for Agamemnon. He had to go all-in.
"Peleus, will you help me?"
I'd guessed from the "two Pegasi" mention.
"Of course. My coming to Mycenae per prophecy was no accident. Saving the great king may be my destined role."
"Thank you, Peleus!"
Smooth lie, but he was grateful. Help in a pinch makes true friends—or so they say.
Time to aid the cornered prince and snag an official post. Nail this, drop a hint, and he couldn't refuse.
"Chance to live off the kingdom's taxes!"
My eyes sparkled; the Secret Book muttered pityingly.
"You should never enter service. You'd be a corrupt official for sure."
"Corrupt official... Yeah, always wanted to try that since I was a kid."
Agamemnon led me to the stables. Guards were there, but he beat them senseless without explanation—knowing they'd refuse the overreach.
We donned enchanted reins for control and golden royal armor against the chill, then took off.
* * *
"Flying through the sky is truly wondrous."
I'd flown planes before, but feeling the heavens' wind firsthand was different. Even the Secret Book groaned softly passing the picturesque Corinth Gulf.
But as sea gave way to land, my face hardened.
A massive mountain range loomed like a screen in the distance.
"That range..."
"What's wrong, Peleus?"
The Secret Book's question chilled me to the bone.
How could I forget pre-regression horrors? Just recalling made limbs shake, heart freeze. I nearly tumbled off Pegasus.
"Hey, snap out of it."
"That's the snake. The Burning Nameless One."
"Ah... The ridge came alive at the apocalypse, right? Quite the spectacle."
"You wouldn't say that seeing it. Countless souls screaming into its maw—pure hell. Their cries still echo."
"Peleus, cross that range and it's Delphi. Looks like Atreus hunted near there."
"Yeah."
We headed for a vast forest east of Delphi—not far from where I'd hidden Heracles's jewel before. From above, the forests looked like mainland and islet.
"Something off?"
I frowned down at the woods. Why hunt here, far from home?
"We'll land nearby!"
Agamemnon shouted after low scouting revealed tracks and wheel ruts. Freakily bright night vision—godly blood was convenient.
"Whoa, whoa!"
Pegasus landed lightly on grass. We followed entry tracks into the woods.
But the beasts snorted, refusing to enter—sensing predators. We left them.
"They react sharply to natural foes. Ominous hunch. Let's hurry, Peleus."
We lit prepared torches and delved deeper. Crisp autumn outside, but inside: sticky, humid. Ancient trees loomed eerie, foreboding.
"Wish we'd brought a skilled hunter."
Agamemnon lamented tracking blindly. He knew basics, but night limited him. Deep in, tracks vanished.
"Hmm... Tricky."
He paced anxiously—fatherly worry or fear of disappointing Zeus?
We split to search. Directions set, Agamemnon bolted desperately.
"He'll be fine?"
Remember, your power's drained. No super strength.
"Can't tell him that."
"Fair. Night woods are dangerous. Hide till dawn, then bail."
"Wise. That shiny armor's a beacon too. Mud it up."
A stream gurgled nearby.
"Perfect. Mud by the brook, hide till first light."
I never planned real search. Key was earning Agamemnon's trust.
"Brook there."
Shallow enough to step across. I mixed water with leaf-rotted mud, slathering my gleaming breastplate.
The Secret Book approved.
"Much better. Practical, and suits your grubby self."
"What?"
"Royal gold doesn't fit scum like you."
"Oh? So mud-pig you sticks by me."
Mid-bicker, a faint sound pierced the dark. We froze, listening.
A thin voice wailed through shadows:
"Help... save me... Someone save this wretched soul..."
Chill raced from fingertips to scalp, hairs standing.
"Eek!"
Ghost? Forest spirit?!
Mud-handed, I ass-planted. Fancy royal cloak ruined, but terror pinned me—scooting backward on my butt.
"Save me... help... this burden... aid me..."
"Burden" halted my flight.
Burden? Atreus maybe? Attacked, separated, wounded—whispering faintly?
"Hm... Voice too androgynous? No booming middle-aged timbre."
True. But something pulled me. Familiar, somehow?
Where from?
"Hmm..."
Curiosity won over fear.
Guess I'll check it out.
Doomed-to-long-life personality, it seemed.