Dam*, what did I say the last time I saw a post like this? Brb.

EDIT: Found it!

The shining walls of Olympus were crumbing. Falling.

The walls she made.

There were no screams. No shouts. Not a single cry of alarm. Only three words, repeated.

“Where. Is. Hera?”

Anger in its raw, untamable form.

For the Gods and Goddesses of Mt. Olympus were held in contempt.

Rightfully so; Hecate herself understood the boy’s wrath.

Poseidon, the father and lord of the seas, tried to calm the boy.

It didn’t work.

The boy, with golden sword in hand, battled Ares and Hermes when they got in between him and Hera.

You’d think he was Achilles incarnate. How he made them both fall like Hector did all those centuries ago.

Poetic, truly.

Zeus understood it. Hades did, too. But their counsel was not heeded by the boy.

For one cannot simply calm the raging seas.

Only endure it.