Each deity is a child of the Cosmic Law, yet with divine honor comes equal responsibility. When a god forsakes the sacred duties tied to their office, the Law withdraws its favor, distancing itself from that wayward offspring.
Poseidon could not believe Athena's words were spoken from the heart. The adulation of the gods had fed his pride, and he believed himself open and sincere—yet Athena still met him with what he saw as hollow platitudes. Seething with anger, he stormed from her temple, the roar of a rising tempest echoing in his wake.
He first sought Prometheus, the wise foreseer—but the Titan had foreseen his arrival and vanished into obscurity, unwilling to entangle himself in the brewing conflict.
Only Epimetheus remained in his brother's temple, the after-thinker who could only reflect upon the past, blind to the future. Poseidon regarded him with growing frustration; this was no ally, but a mere shadow of his prophetic sibling.
Frustrated and empty-handed, Poseidon returned to Atlas, his last remaining confidant. Tempted by promises of power, the God of Strength was the first to waver. Under the pretense of aiding his brother Menoetius in clearing out monsters, Atlas descended to the mortal realm. There, he gathered the formidable offspring of Typhon, rallying them alongside Echidna, Mother of Monsters, in secret preparations for an assault on Olympus.
Upon learning of Poseidon's failure, and sensing the shifting tides, Atlas made his move. He led Echidna and her monstrous brood in a direct attack upon the sacred mountain.
The once-beautiful gardens of Olympus were trampled into dust beneath their feet. Atlas carefully avoided the sanctuaries of the retired Titans, making straight for the summit—the Temple of Zeus himself.
The mighty gates of the divine hall shattered one by one, yet no god rose to oppose them! Unchecked, Atlas and Echidna advanced until they stood within the very chamber where Zeus supposedly slumbered.
But the unnatural silence unsettled them both. Something was amiss. Without warning, Echidna turned and vanished, slipping into the earth's cracks while the other gods looked away.
Left stranded, Atlas called desperately for his oceanic ally—but Poseidon never came. The sea remained eerily calm, betraying no sign of support.
Then, like thunder breaking the sky, Zeus and the assembled gods emerged from the temple. Lightning roared as if heralding war, and in moments, the monstrous horde was eradicated.
Dione, the Winter Goddess, and Thyone, the Icebound Sea Goddess, confronted Poseidon. A veil of frosty mist unfurled, and the surging tsunami he summoned froze mid-crest, forming a towering sculpture of frozen wrath.
Under their divine will, the waters solidified before his eyes. Encroaching ice forced the sea deities of Pontus's lineage to retreat. Phorcys, Wrath of the Sea, and Keto, Peril of the Deep, exchanged glances and silently withdrew into the abyss.
Kronos, God of Ruin, and Ourea, Lord of Mountains, barred Pontus's path, preventing the Primordial Sea God from offering aid.
Seeing his children fail, Pontus sighed and withdrew without protest, rejoining his kin in the depths of the ocean.
Surrounded by four divine adversaries, Poseidon offered a stiff, faltering smile.
"I merely heard of Atlas's rebellion and wished to return swiftly to aid the King of Gods," he lied. "I am certainly not aligned with these traitors."
Dione smirked, flicking her wrist. A flurry of snowflakes swirled around the storm god, ensnaring him in a prison of absolute cold—a crystalline tomb sealing his fate.
Within the great temple, the gods gathered. Atlas, defeated and bound, was dragged in by Kratos and Bia, his mother and siblings watching with anguished eyes.
Their pleas were silenced by Zelos's sharp command, and a heavy silence fell over the assembly, so profound that even breath seemed intrusive.
Only when Dione and Kronos entered, dragging the frozen form of Poseidon between them, did the trial begin.
Zeus's slumber had been a ruse—an elaborate deception devised to root out the disloyal.
"Atlas, God of Strength. Poseidon, Bringer of Storms. Do you have any defense against your acts of treason?"
Zeus's voice was cold as judgment itself.
Imprisoned in ice, Poseidon could neither speak nor move, only pleading with desperate eyes toward his sisters Hera and Demeter, and his elder brother Hades. They, too, knew the severity of his crimes and begged mercy on his behalf.
"Mighty King of Gods," Hera implored, "my brother was misled. He did not desecrate the sanctity of Olympus! For our sake, grant him clemency."
Hera and Demeter, goddesses of marriage and abundance, bowed their proud heads in supplication. Even Hades, ruler of wealth and death, joined his sisters in beseeching the Thunder God.
"O Upholder of Justice, Sovereign of All, we accept whatever punishment You decree—only spare him from the torment of Tartarus."
Clymene, Goddess of Fame, threw herself at Zeus's feet, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I know Atlas cannot be forgiven," she cried. "But I beg You, for the sake of my sister Tyche, show mercy! Let him live, and I shall bind him to eternal loyalty!"
A bolt of lightning cracked from Zeus's eyes, shattering the stone before Clymene.
"Cease your wailing!" His thunderous voice froze her in place, trembling.
"They have not wronged me alone—they have endangered all who dwell upon this sacred mount!"
Zeus rose, raising both arms.
"Their punishment must be decided by all the gods!"
"Noble ones, the light of Olympus has been tainted! In the name of Themis, Goddess of Justice, render your verdict fairly!"
At once, Themis's scales materialized from the void, glowing with divine radiance, ensuring impartial judgment.
Dione gazed upon her son with quiet admiration—his wisdom now surpassed even hers. By placing judgment in the hands of the assembly, Zeus had orchestrated a masterstroke. This was no mere trial—it was a test of loyalty, a warning to all who harbored dissent.
Should the gods vote guilty, the undercurrents of rebellion would fracture from within. Should they declare innocence, they would forfeit their place on Olympus entirely. Either way, the tide turned in Zeus's favor—those who voted for guilt would be forced into his camp, while those who resisted would find themselves crushed beneath his unyielding hand.
Before the scales of Themis, the gods rendered their verdict. The overwhelming majority condemned the traitors, yet at the decisive moment, Zeus turned to Dione in hushed counsel.
To cast Atlas and Poseidon into Tartarus would invite Tyche's wrath—new goddess of the earth as she was. Yet to simply erase the divine powers of Strength and Storm was unthinkable; the world teetered on the brink of ascension, and such forces could not be lost.
Dione understood Zeus's dilemma and whispered her suggestion:
"Let Atlas bear the sky at the westernmost edge of the world, where it has sagged from Typhon's ruin."
Thus, Atlas, once god of strength, was bound by Bia and Kratos and sent to the farthest west, where he took up the burden of the heavens in place of Ourea. The distance between sky and earth widened, and with it, the dominion of the Sky God expanded beyond even the sum of sea and underworld.
Poseidon, watching his co-conspirator spared from Tartarus, exhaled in relief. Surely, his own fate would not be so dire.
Zeus fixed him with a gaze heavy with meaning. At once, the storm god lowered his head, no longer daring to underestimate the King of Gods.
Yet Zeus did not mete out harsh punishment. His voice rang clear:
"Poseidon, Wielder of Ocean's Rhythm. For the pleas of three Principal Deities and your absence from the assault upon Olympus, I command you return to the depths and fulfill your sacred duty!"
"In the name of Sovereignty! I appoint you sovereign of the Conceptual Sea, King of the Abyss!"
A stunned silence fell over the assembly. This was no punishment—it was an elevation.
"Let your kin proclaim my glory! Let all beneath the waves bow before the will of kingship!"
Unlike Hera and Demeter, who rejoiced and hailed Zeus's mercy, Hades saw the poison veiled in honey. If Poseidon accepted this title, peace with Pontus and his lineage would become impossible—the mantle of Deep-Sea King had long belonged to the Primordial God of the Sea. Without equal power to back his claim, Poseidon would stand isolated among the ocean deities, unwelcome and resented.
But should he refuse? That would carve an unbridgeable rift between himself and Olympus—a betrayal that would surely enrage Zeus. No matter the choice, it seemed foolishness incarnate. Even Hera and Demeter were left speechless.
Hades turned his gaze toward Dione, who stood with serene grace. Beside her now appeared an unfamiliar goddess—her hair like flowing seaweed, her eyes gentle and luminous.
The aura surrounding her marked her as a mid-tier deity, yet here she stood, obediently behind Dione, a lesser goddess. Her deference spoke volumes.
Time passed. Freed from his icy prison, Poseidon hesitated, unable to speak.
Murmurs grew among the gods. Their discontent swelled into open disapproval. While Atlas bore eternal exile for his treason, Poseidon faced what many saw as leniency. His hesitation was an insult to the King of Gods—an affront to divine justice itself.
Then Menoetius, God of Courage, stepped forward. Bowing deeply to Zeus in gratitude for sparing his brother, he rose and turned his fury upon Poseidon.
"Stormbringer!" he thundered. "How dare you treat the King of Heaven's mercy as entitlement?"
Hera and Demeter exchanged frantic glances, silently urging their brother to yield—but they knew nothing of the silent war waged beneath Zeus's gilded words.
Poseidon's expression twisted. He had hoped for a light sentence, something he could endure with dignity. But now, caught between two fates, he found himself ensnared. The ancient Primordial Sea God was no kindly patron. To accept this title meant severing ties with Pontus and his kin. With Tyche absent, the Oceanids withdrawn, and Pontus the undisputed ruler of the deep, Poseidon would stand alone—vulnerable and exposed.
Yet refusal risked Zeus's wrath, and that outcome promised no better fate.
The murmurs swelled into uproar. The assembly grew restless, the tension rising to a fever pitch. Hera and Demeter could only sit and pray.
Seeing Poseidon's paralysis, Zeus added one final piece to the board:
"This is Eurybia, Goddess of Sea Power. She comes to aid you in claiming your throne."
Eurybia bowed gracefully, her cerulean hair flowing like the tide. The Oceanids gathered around her in welcome. Though all knew her as one half of the primordial duo Eurybia and Eurynome, none dared reveal the truth. Timely praises flowed like offerings.
Eurybia was a Conceptual Sea Goddess, second only to Tyche and Metis among the Oceanids.
She spoke, her voice calm but firm:
"The King of Kings holds ultimate authority, the acknowledged ruler of all divine kind—including the sea."
Her words struck true, aimed directly at Pontus's line. Clearly, this declaration came by design—Zeus and the Oceanid rulers had conspired together.
Her support softened Poseidon's resolve. With the Oceanic bloodline behind him, defying Pontus seemed a risk worth taking. As Sovereign of the Conceptual Sea, his rank rivaled a Principal God, and his mid-tier might would suffice for self-defense.
At last, the Stormbringer yielded, swearing fealty to the King of Gods.
The rebellion had ended. Zeus had claimed a quiet victory, baring his teeth at Pontus. Yet the Primordial Sea God remained unshaken—losing only a pawn of little consequence. His children emerged unscathed, and he still held enough leverage to turn the tide anew.
The game was far from over.