Should I Just Crack It Open With an Axe?
“Grrrh… uuuugh… uuuuugh!!!”
“…Mmmngh…”
Zeus lay sprawled on the floor, groaning in agony. The raw screaming from moments earlier had eased a little, but the shattering headache still pinned him down; he could not rise.
Watching over him was the eldest of the gods—Hestia. She poured her authority of fire into him without pause, trying to burn away the pain that kept blooming anew. Yet the worry etched across her face only deepened.
“H-how is he, Sister?”
“What in the world is going on? Why did Zeus suddenly…?”
“…I don’t know. No matter how much pain I erase, it just keeps growing. What is this…?”
He had not been stabbed by spear or sword. Outwardly he looked perfectly fine. Gods did not even fall ill—so what was this?
“The only odd thing is that divine power is flooding into his head far too heavily…”
“Could something like that cause a headache this bad?”
“Of course not. That’s why it’s so strange. Hmm… maybe I should just crack his skull open nice and clean? Smash it with an axe or something…”
The words carried genuine heat—true to the fiery temperament of the goddess of the hearth. Poseidon and Hades nearly leapt out of their skins.
“S-Sister… please don’t say such things.”
“There’s no guarantee that would even cure him. And more importantly—who could possibly crack Zeus’s head open, of all people?”
“Well… you’ve got a point.”
Hestia smacked her lips, looking faintly disappointed. As an immortal, a shattered skull would eventually mend. But the stronger a god’s divine power, the more absurdly durable their body became. The head was the hardest part of all. For the King of the Gods, nothing short of Cronus’s Adamant Scythe could so much as scratch him, let alone split him open.
Even Hestia, who possessed a measure of healing power, had no real solution. Beyond dulling the pain with her flames, there was nothing anyone could do. So the gods left Zeus in their eldest sister’s care and convened an emergency council.
“Seriously, what is going on? Did someone feed the Fates spoiled nectar or something?”
“Poseidon, this is no time for tasteless jokes.”
“Come on, Demeter. Nothing else explains disasters piling up like this. Husband and wife both losing their minds at the same time—like they planned it!”
“It must be the karma he has piled up—toward his children… and toward his siblings as well.”
“Mmm… you’re not wrong, but still…”
Demeter’s words dripped with irritation. Poseidon eyed her warily, wondering if she too had some private grudge against the couple.
Then Hades spoke, calm and steady.
“But… the situation is truly dire.”
The scattered mood in the chamber settled into grim silence.
“We are at war. First Hera, our top-tier combatant, and now Zeus himself is out of commission. If this is temporary, fine. But if he stays down… and if the Titans learn of it…”
“!”
“Ugh…”
Only then did the remaining gods grasp the full weight of the crisis. Together, Zeus and Hera accounted for more than thirty percent of Olympus’s total strength. Their absence would tip the hard-fought war against the Titans into a one-sided slaughter. And with Ares—once their vanguard—having run away, the gap in power was catastrophic.
“For now… we keep this as secret as possible. Everyone, tighten security around the mountain. If the Titans strike now, there will be no recovery. And…”
“…And what?”
“…Never mind. That is all. Good work, everyone.”
Hades cut himself off, rose, and left. The others followed, faces heavy with dread, each returning to their posts—carrying the sudden crisis like a stone in their chests.
Yet none of them knew that even now, unseen eyes were watching them in secret…
…This is bad.
Leto pressed herself against the window. A cold bead of sweat slid down her temple.
First Hera, now Zeus… How is this even happening?
In her mind she had already decided that the figure of prophecy was Hephaestus. Still, she continued her work as Olympus’s double agent without pause. Prophecy or not, she had bet on Olympus winning this war. Knowing one must choose the right side for the future, she had been feeding Titan intelligence to the Olympians. She had come here today precisely to report to Zeus on Titan movements.
Instead she had stumbled onto this sudden catastrophe. Hera and Zeus both combat-incapable—an emergency that made her question the very rope she had been clinging to, and filled her with deep unease.
Hoping the crisis would simply blow over was pure folly. Thanks to her efforts Olympus held a slight edge in the information war, but Cronus and the Titans were far from blind. They ran plenty of spies of their own. Discovering the state of Hera and Zeus was only a matter of time.
And once they did… Cronus would launch a full-scale invasion of Olympus without hesitation.
If the Titans mount a major offensive now… Olympus falls. And if my role as a spy comes to light in the process…
She did not need to dwell on a traitor’s fate. Even as the daughter of the high Titan Coeus, Cronus would never spare her once her spying was known.
Crisis pressed in from every side. Leto realized she stood at a critical crossroads.
For a fleeting moment she considered cutting Olympus loose entirely and throwing in with Hephaestus. But—
But I… I’ve never even spoken a single word to that man…!
She had watched Hephaestus from a careful distance for so long, yet never once made direct contact. She had tried—several times. As a woman who sought his “seed,” building some connection was the natural next step. She had waited for moments when he was alone…
“Where do you think you’re going by yourself? I’m bored—take me with you.”
“Heehee, planning to have all the fun on the battlefield alone? Not a chance.”
“Lately I think I’m starting to understand this ‘taste of liquor’ thing… Pour me a cup too.”
“What are you doing? Let’s play a round of poker.”
“Big Brother!”
“….”
He was never alone. People clung to him constantly, and lately even that son of Zeus had latched on. She never found an opening. She knew capable beings always attracted followers, but this was ridiculous. The only time he was truly alone was inside his forge—where simply entering felt intrusive. Every attempt at a natural approach had collapsed.
With zero affinity—no, zero recognition—contacting Hephaestus was impossible. That left her only one path.
No choice… I’ll have to cover the fault with merit…
Olympus’s total collapse was all but certain if things continued. She had to secure her own survival. Once you have betrayed once, a second time is easy.
Decision made, Leto slipped out of Olympus as fast as she could and raced toward Mount Othrys—to deliver the news before anyone else.
She reached the outskirts of the mountain. Most of the Titan forces were out on campaign, leaving the place feeling oddly hollow. She hurried along the path toward the inner slopes—
Then—
“Hm? That man…”
Her eyes caught on a figure hauling a cart up the mountain road. In an instant the urgency of moments before vanished. Leto’s gaze lit up, and she started toward him—toward Hephaestus—with shining eyes.
This time… he’s alone?