CHAPTER 99: "FATHER..."

The monster took a step.

Just one.

And the entire throne room split open.

The marble cracked, curling upward like torn paper. The ground rumbled. Divine wards etched into the palace walls flickered—then shattered. Ares, now fully consumed by Tartarus, stood tall. Wings of ash unfolded behind him, chains coiled like serpents ready to strike, and that pulsing red core in his chest beat like war drums.

Zeus didn’t speak.

He didn’t have to.

His eyes glowed white, pure skyfire pouring from his pupils. Lightning flickered down his arms, crawling over his skin like living tattoos. The air around him warped as if Olympus itself was bracing.

And then they moved.

BOOM.

A single clash.

Their fists collided mid-air—lightning against abyss. The impact tore through the hall like a cannon, blowing out every window, collapsing columns, sending the other gods flying back behind protective barriers. The sky cracked open.

Tartarus swung his chain in a wide arc, slicing through the floor. Zeus ducked, Aether Stepping behind him in a blink of sky-blue light.

CRACK!

A punch from Zeus landed square in Tartarus’s side, the impact releasing a sonic wave. But Tartarus twisted with it, caught Zeus’s wrist with a chain, and slammed him into the wall like a ragdoll.

The throne of Olympus crumbled.

Zeus rolled mid-air, landed on a bolt of lightning, and launched himself back at full speed. His body flickered—once, twice, thrice. Lightning Flicker active. His movement tore trails through the air.

Tartarus raised a hand, conjuring a storm of chains—black, barbed, burning with voidflame.

Zeus raised his palm.

Thunder Shout.

BOOOOOOM.

A concussive shockwave detonated from his chest, vaporizing the first wave of chains and blowing Tartarus backward through what remained of the high dome ceiling. The divine sky screamed. Celestial rings cracked.

But Tartarus didn’t fall.

He floated. Smoke curling from his frame. Then he roared—and darkness rained.

Chunks of the palace disintegrated as Tartarus hurled spears of condensed abyss downward. Each one corrupted the stone, turning white Olympus marble into black, pulsing rot.

Zeus didn’t dodge.

He raised his hands.

And the storm answered.

Stormcaller’s Wrath.

The clouds above Olympus twisted violently, then collapsed into a singular vortex. Rain turned to blades. Winds to drills. Lightning to focused spears of divine judgment.

The two forces collided mid-air in a cyclone of chaos. The world below trembled.

Tartarus screamed in fury, diving through the storm, wings tearing apart the sky. He punched Zeus mid-cast, sending him hurtling through the air. Zeus caught himself mid-flight, skidding across a glowing leyline.

He blinked.

Aether Step.

He vanished again—reappearing behind Tartarus with a glowing gauntlet wrapped around his fist.

Skybreaker Smash.

BOOM.

The punch connected to Tartarus’s exposed core. The red glow dimmed. Tartarus shrieked—louder than thunder, deeper than earthquakes.

Zeus gritted his teeth and pressed forward, raining down blows—each one a thunderbolt given form. His speed blurred. His cloak of lightning roared. His strikes were war itself.

But Tartarus took it.

And laughed.

He caught Zeus’s arm mid-punch and spoke into his face.

"You fight for Olympus? For order? For them?"

He glanced at the watching gods.

"They’ll run when you fall."

Then he drove his knee into Zeus’s gut and blasted him downward.

Zeus slammed into the floor like a meteor.

But he didn’t stay down.

He stood slowly. Blood dripped from his lip. His chest rose and fell, glowing with sparks. He wiped the blood away, staring up at the creature that wore his son’s body.

Then—he grinned.

"You forgot something."

Tartarus narrowed his eyes.

Zeus raised his hand.

The sky shattered.

Smite.

A divine plasma bolt the size of a mountain roared down, piercing the heavens like a god’s finger. It wasn’t lightning. It wasn’t magic.

It was fate.

Tartarus barely raised his arms in time.

BOOOOOOOOOOM.

Everything went white.

The mountain shook. The divine barrier shattered. The sea below Olympus hissed as debris fell into it like stars.

Zeus stood at the center of it all, eyes glowing. His aura blazed brighter than the sun.

From the smoke, a shape moved.

Crawling.

Twisted.

Tartarus—half of Ares’s face still visible beneath the cracks—rose slowly. His wing was torn. One horn cracked.

But he smiled.

"Good," he whispered. "Finally."

Zeus didn’t blink.

Tartarus roared—and lunged.

They collided mid-air again, but this time the force was enough to push back the clouds themselves.

Zeus spun, dodged a chain strike, then teleported behind Tartarus using Aether Step and drove his elbow into his back. Tartarus spun and stabbed with a black blade formed from shadow—Zeus leaned just in time, letting it graze his side.

Then he activated it.

Divine Presence: Storm Crown.

A pressure flooded the realm.

Every god watching dropped to one knee. The skies wept light. Even Tartarus slowed—like something greater had walked into the room.

Zeus stepped forward slowly, eyes calm, body blazing.

"I am the Seat of the Sky," he said softly. "And you are trespassing."

Tartarus laughed.

"Then strike me, King of Olympus."

Zeus raised both hands.

World Authority Access: Realm Law Override.

The winds silenced. The sun halted. The rules of Olympus bent to Zeus’s will.

He clenched his fists—and the air screamed.

Everything exploded.

A white flash engulfed the palace—storm, light, thunder, divine law ripping through shadow.

And then—

Silence.

The wind returned.

The dust settled.

Half the throne hall was gone.

Zeus stood at the edge of the broken cliff.

Tartarus... was nowhere in sight.

He turned, slowly.

His body bruised. Burned. But still standing.

The gods behind him began to rise.

Until—

A sound.

Snap.

From beneath the floor—black claws punched through the marble and dragged down Zeus’s leg.

He looked down just in time to see chains explode upward.

Too late.

They wrapped around him like snakes, crushing divine flesh.

Tartarus emerged—fully reformed. Laughing.

"You think light wins just because it’s brighter?"

Zeus struggled, aura pulsing, lightning flaring.

But the chains tightened.

One wrapped around his neck.

And then—

Ares’s voice.

From deep inside.

"Father..."

Zeus froze.

His son was still in there.

Still fighting.

But the darkness was deeper now. Stronger.

Tartarus hissed behind the voice. "He’s almost gone. Let’s end this... together."

The chains lifted Zeus off the ground.

The sky above Olympus went black.