Reincarnated As Poseidon
Chapter 80: Council of gods

Chapter 80: Council of gods

High above the mortal realm, beyond clouds and the veil of storms, the marble gates of Olympus stood defiant and shining—unchanged by time, untouched by mortal decay. The golden spires of the gods pierced the heavens, but a storm unlike any before rumbled overhead, restless and laden with an ancient force none had felt for millennia.

Inside the grand hall of Olympus, twelve thrones stood in a circle. Only six were filled.

At the head sat Zeus, god of the skies and king of Olympus. His chiseled face, usually carved with smug certainty, bore an uncharacteristic edge of concern. Thunder crackled in his veins, dancing at his fingertips. Beside him, Hera, queen of Olympus, wore her emerald robes like armor, her gaze hard and fixed on nothing in particular.

Across from them sat Hades, veiled in a shadow that flickered unnaturally. The god of the underworld had not graced the halls of Olympus in over a century. His return alone signified the severity of the threat.

Apollo, glowing faintly with the morning light, leaned forward on his throne, eyes unusually dim. Artemis stood beside him, tense, her bow shimmering into existence with every spike of divine unease. And beside her, Athena adjusted her golden helmet, her mind sharper than ever.

But even with their combined presence, the air felt thin... like something ancient and overwhelming had brushed past them.

"It’s confirmed," Hades said coldly, his voice a low hum like a blade sliding across bone. "The soul of Thalorin has awakened. And it resides in the boy who now bears the name Poseidon."

Zeus’ jaw clenched. "That name has been forbidden."

"It has returned," Athena replied coolly. "Not just the name. The power."

Apollo closed his eyes. "I saw it in a vision last night. The oceans cried out, not in praise—but in pain. Something vast moved beneath them."

"It wasn’t Poseidon’s soul," Artemis muttered. "It was something older. Darker."

"Thalorin," Hades confirmed. "The being before Poseidon. The original ruler of the seas, buried in time and forbidden memory."

Zeus stood abruptly. Lightning surged up the marble columns, threatening to shatter the high ceiling. "He was sealed for a reason. We agreed to lock that name—and its essence—away. For eternity!"

"And yet eternity has shifted," Hades replied, unmoved. "Someone tampered with the balance. Or perhaps the seal was never perfect."

Hera finally spoke, her voice smooth yet sharp. "You were the one who swore the boy was dead. Burned to ash in the mortal realm."

"The mortal was," Hades said with a flick of his shadowed hand. "But the soul... That was no ordinary death. The boy’s suffering cracked the seal. And Thalorin slipped in."

Zeus turned to Athena. "Can the boy be destroyed?"

Athena hesitated—rare for her. "I do not know. If Thalorin fully merges with him, it may be impossible. Even if the boy still believes himself to be a man named Dominic, the god within him grows stronger by the day."

"And he’s already claimed one of the tridents," Apollo added.

All eyes turned toward him.

"Yes," he confirmed grimly. "The Abyssal Trident—hidden beneath the Mariana Gate. It’s no longer there. I sent a mortal envoy three nights past. The sea swallowed them whole."

Zeus’ voice shook the room. "Then he is claiming Poseidon’s legacy."

"Worse," Hades said, standing now. "He is becoming what Poseidon never dared become. A vessel of chaos. Thalorin does not understand balance. He never did. His reign ended the last Golden Age."

Zeus exhaled heavily, pacing toward the edge of the platform. From there, Olympus overlooked the world below—seas boiling, storms growing wilder.

Athena stepped forward. "Then we must prepare for war. Not against the mortal boy, but the god he is becoming."

Hera nodded. "We need all twelve thrones filled."

"No," Zeus snapped. "We need allies who will fight, not disappear when the tides turn."

"There is one more," Artemis said. "Aegirion. He walks the earth now."

"Unstable," Hera said flatly. "He’d betray us for a crown."

Apollo stood. "So would any of us, once. But this is bigger than any throne or kingdom."

A pause stretched.

Finally, Zeus spoke. "Then call the Council of Twelve. Bring Hermes, bring Demeter—even Dionysus if you must. Every Olympian must decide: stand and fight, or be erased."

Athena added, "And if the boy has already become more than mortal, we need champions. Heroes."

"I have one in mind," Artemis said quietly. "A mortal child of the sea. Raised in silence. Taught in shadow."

Zeus turned. "Who?"

Artemis’ eyes gleamed. "Her name is Nerissa."

A silence swept the room.

"She’s untested," Apollo warned.

"She’s necessary," Artemis countered. "And she knows the language of the deep. She may be the only one who can reach what remains of Dominic inside... before Thalorin swallows him whole."

Zeus narrowed his eyes. "Then summon her. Begin her trial."

Hades turned away, vanishing in smoke and whispers. "Pray she’s not too late."

As the gods dispersed, the sky above Olympus darkened further. Deep beneath the ocean, something stirred.

And far away, in the mortal world, the waves crashed harder. Not out of chaos... but anticipation.

The sea knew its king was rising.

The air crackled with tension as Hermes arrived at the summit of Olympus in a streak of light, his winged sandals glowing faintly from divine speed. A scroll unfurled in his hand, still warm from the lightning-scorched command sent by Zeus himself. He paused only a moment at the gates before entering the Hall of Storms.

"What emergency warrants dragging the Messenger of the Gods from five realms in one night?" he said with a smirk as he landed in the chamber. The smirk vanished when he saw Zeus pacing with thunder in his eyes.

"This isn’t a request," Athena snapped. "Sit."

Hermes blinked. "What happened?"

Before anyone could answer, Demeter appeared in a bloom of golden grain and ivy, her presence immediately calming—but only for a second.

"I felt it," she murmured, not even glancing at the others. "The oceans are sick. The land near them withers. My roots do not reach beneath the Mariana Gate anymore."

"Then you understand why we called you," Zeus said. "You felt him too. Poseidon’s power—but not Poseidon."

"I felt something older," Demeter admitted. "Something wrong. A rage beneath the waves. It whispered to the soil. It called itself... Thalorin."

Hermes frowned. "I thought Thalorin was a myth. A tale the Titans told before they lost the war."

Athena’s expression hardened. "That’s what we were meant to believe. But Hades confirmed it. The boy who calls himself Dominic isn’t just reborn—he’s a vessel. Thalorin’s vessel."

Demeter shuddered. "Then even death didn’t stop him. And if he gains the other tridents—"

"He becomes unstoppable," Artemis finished. "He already has the Abyssal one. There are two left."

"And time is not on our side," Apollo added as he appeared in a flare of sunrise. "The stars shifted last night. Their paths veered—unnaturally. If the constellations flee from the sea, then the cosmos itself fears what stirs."

A heavy silence fell until, with a swirl of wine and ivy-scented wind, Dionysus slumped onto his throne. His eyes were bloodshot and gleaming.

"So, we’re all pretending this meeting is about saving Olympus, huh?" he asked, swirling a goblet lazily. "Not about saving our pride?"

"Enough," Zeus growled.

Dionysus leaned forward. "Why now, Zeus? You let mortals tear the temples down. Let their belief wane. You stood idle. And now, because one of them becomes too powerful, you suddenly remember your throne?"

Athena stood, her blade materializing in her hand. "You dare—"

"Peace," Hera commanded. "This bickering is what allowed Thalorin to return in the first place."

Dionysus laughed bitterly. "You all think war is the answer. But gods are only as strong as those who believe in them. What good is a divine blade when no one worships the one who wields it?"

Zeus approached him, voice low and filled with the weight of centuries. "He is not a god of belief. He is a god of destruction. Thalorin doesn’t need faith. Only death. He will sink Olympus if we hesitate."

Dionysus drained his cup. "Then we’d better stop hesitating."

A thunderous rumble echoed as another portal opened—dark and icy. From it stepped a goddess wrapped in blue fire and frost—Hecate, the mistress of magic, unseen in these halls for over two ages.

She did not bow. "You called me too late."

"Hecate," Zeus said, cautiously. "We didn’t know if you would come."

"I didn’t come for you," she said, voice cold as winter rivers. "I came for balance. And the boy has already upset it."

Athena stepped toward her. "Can you stop him?"

"I don’t know," Hecate answered. "Because it’s not just him anymore. Thalorin’s essence has fused with the mortal’s pain. His despair is the perfect vessel."

She paused. "And he doesn’t want to be saved."

That struck the room like a spear.

"What does that mean?" Apollo asked.

"It means," Hecate said, looking around, "that Dominic wants revenge. He was wronged by the world, by gods and men alike. His soul didn’t fight the merger. It embraced it."

Zeus sat back down, visibly disturbed. "Then he is already lost."

"No," Artemis said. "He still dreams. I felt it. He weeps for someone. A girl."

"A mortal?" Hera asked sharply.

"Perhaps," Artemis said. "Perhaps a memory of a life not fully extinguished."

"Then we use that," Zeus said at once. "We break him from within. Find the girl. Weaken his will."

"No," Athena said, frowning. "We’ve seen what happens when gods play with mortal hearts. It always ends in blood."

"Then we find a new champion," Hera said. "Nerissa is one, yes, but she’s young. We need another. One who understands war. Someone with divine heritage."

"I may know someone," Demeter said quietly. "But they were banished."

Zeus raised a brow. "Who?"

Demeter hesitated. "My daughter. Not Persephone. Another. A child born from the mortal soil, hidden from Olympus for centuries."

"That’s forbidden," Hera said sharply. "You were not to birth more."

Demeter ignored her. "She’s the only one who ever calmed the oceans with her voice alone. She spoke to them as if they were kin."

Artemis smiled faintly. "Then it’s decided. We summon them both."

Zeus stood. "Then our path is clear. Summon the champions. Secure the remaining tridents. And prepare Olympus. If Dominic—if Thalorin—cannot be turned..."

Athena finished the sentence for him:

"Then we erase him from existence. Vessel and all."

The gods bowed their heads.

Far below, the world was already changing. Tides rose in patterns never seen before. Whirlpools opened in places untouched by current. And in the deepest pit of the ocean, Dominic sat on a throne of coral and bone, the Abyssal Trident in hand.

His eyes—no longer just his—watched the waves.

They knew Olympus was watching.

He whispered to the sea.

"Soon."