The stars blinked across the vast velvet sky above Olympus, each one a quiet witness to the celebration roaring within the golden halls. Inside, the Olympian gods laughed, feasted, and raised their goblets to the newly ascended deity—Jin Shang, the mortal who defied gods and fate alike. Yet, amidst the grandeur, Jin stood alone outside, on the grand balcony, staring into the boundless night.
The moonlight brushed against his black hair like a lover's hand, the shadows wrapping around his long divine robe, now marked by Olympian sigils. He didn't feel pride. No joy. Only silence.
"The Elixir of the Gods..." Jin murmured under his breath, eyes reflecting the heavens. "It slowly restores what they tried to seal. My Abyssal Core... it lives again. And with each passing moment, the chains weaken."
He lifted his hand, fingers glowing with a subtle darkness. A pulse of abyssal energy throbbed quietly, like a heartbeat waiting to rage.
Tonight is not a victory... it is rebirth. Tonight, I begin the game they started... but I'll finish it on my terms.
Inside the great banquet hall, Dionysus was halfway drunk, pouring another round of godly wine. "Where is the man of the hour? Jin! Come, drink with us!"
Hermes laughed, "Maybe he's brooding again. Always the silent type."
"Don't tease him," Hestia said warmly, nudging Hermes. "He's probably overwhelmed."
Zeus, seated on the high throne, cast a sideways glance toward the balcony. His voice was low, almost curious. "Or maybe... he's thinking."
Jin reentered slowly. His steps were measured, calm, but his eyes scanned the room with purpose. Like a hunter.
Ares clapped a hand on his shoulder. "God or not, you're still a warrior, Jin. Never forget that."
Jin gave a faint smile. "I won't."
He sat beside Dionysus, accepting a golden chalice.
"To the future Olympian!" Apollo toasted, his lyre floating beside him, plucking a celebratory tune.
Everyone raised their cups.
They cheer now, Jin thought. But none realize the pawns have begun to move.
Jin's first move was subtle. He knew Poseidon was prideful, arrogant, and carried deep resentment toward Zeus. Unlike Zeus, Poseidon did not see himself as a ruler of all but as the rightful heir to Olympus' future. So Jin where to begin.
The next day, Jin requested an audience with Poseidon—alone.
The halls of Poseidon's palace shimmered with the hues of deep ocean blues. Marble pillars carved with swirling sea serpents reached into a vaulted ceiling lined with glowing corals. It was here, beneath leagues of pressure and silence, that Jin Shang stood.
The celebration of his ascension was still echoing in Olympus above. But Jin had already begun his game—his mind sharper than any blade forged by the gods.
Poseidon emerged from the liquid curtains of his throne room, his trident in hand, robe flowing like tides, power rippling around him like a storm on the verge of breaking.
"You requested an audience in my domain," Poseidon spoke, his voice a steady rumble, ancient and commanding. "Few dare to do so. What do you seek, new god of Olympus?"
Jin bowed with careful grace, eyes downcast, voice calm. "I seek wisdom. Not power."
Poseidon's eyes narrowed slightly. "A rare hunger. Most crave the storm. You ask for the silence before it."
Jin allowed a small smile. "Even silence has its currents, Lord of the Seas."
There was a pause.
Poseidon gestured for him to follow, and together they walked along a path of luminous shells and whispering waters, through the Sea God's private sanctum—where ancient relics of forgotten wars rested.
As they walked, Jin began the first thread of manipulation.
"I've been thinking about the battle between us," Jin said. "How I fell. How easily you crushed me."
Poseidon's lip twitched with restrained pride. "You fought well. But you're not ready to challenge the old tides."
"Not yet," Jin said, his tone filled with genuine humility—or so it seemed. "That's why I came to you. I want to learn. To understand what it means to command a domain. To carry the weight of divinity."
Poseidon's pride began to shift into amusement and approval. He turned toward Jin, studying him.
"And what do you hope to gain from such understanding?"
"Guidance," Jin replied. "Not just strength. Strategy. Olympus is a storm I cannot yet navigate. But you... you've weathered every war."
Poseidon looked away, gazing into a swirling orb of memory water. In it, an image of a battle long past flickered—him standing over the corpse of a fallen titan. "Yes. I have endured much. But wisdom has its price."
Jin let silence bloom, then added carefully: "Is it a price you regret paying?"
Poseidon's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
Jin stepped closer to the edge. "When I was mortal… I believed gods were above pain. Above lies. Above betrayal."
The word lingered in the salt-thick air.
Poseidon's eyes flicked to him. "You believe otherwise now?"
"I've begun to see," Jin said, still playing the part of the innocent divine, "that Olympus is not a pantheon… it is a battlefield. One where even truth is a weapon."
Poseidon's expression darkened, the waters behind him curling as if stirred by emotion.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Jin continued with a steady gaze, "that I wish to survive. And I cannot do so by walking blind among gods who play games older than time."
The bait was set.
Poseidon stepped closer. "Are you implying someone is deceiving you?"
"I don't know," Jin replied with precision. "But I feel… something. There are whispers in Olympus. Threads of fate too carefully woven. I don't know who pulls them. Maybe it's Gaia. Maybe it's Zeus. Maybe it's all of you."
Poseidon studied him.
Jin looked into the Sea God's eyes with quiet pain. "Tell me, Lord Poseidon. What do you know of Lia?"
Poseidon's eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask that name?"
"I've seen fragments," Jin whispered. "Of her... of another world. And I know someone is hiding something from me. Was it Gaia's doing? Or... was it more than that?"
Poseidon's gaze turned guarded. "Careful, Jin Shang. There are truths even gods are not allowed to speak."
Jin bowed his head, voice soft, "Then let me ask just one thing… if a god knew the truth, but stayed silent to protect Olympus… is that strength? Or cowardice?"
The question stung deeper than Jin let on. He had struck Poseidon's pride, his guilt, and his buried doubts.
Poseidon turned away, walking slowly toward a glowing altar. "You're clever. But this road is dangerous. The sea does not fear storms, but even it must respect the Abyss."
"And what lies beneath the sea?" Jin asked, stepping beside him. "Monsters... or secrets?"
Poseidon looked at him sharply.
Jin smiled slightly. "Let me carry your burden, even just a little. I only want to protect Olympus. Just like you."
Poseidon studied him long and hard.
"You're hiding something," Poseidon finally said. "I don't know what. But I feel it."
Jin's eyes gleamed faintly. "Then let's both keep our secrets, Lord Poseidon."
A moment of silence stretched between them—charged, powerful, and deadly.
But Jin had planted the seed.
In that moment, Poseidon saw him not as a threat, but as an ally. As someone who could be useful. Manipulable. Trainable.
And that was Jin's first victory.
As he left the domain, the sea behind him calmed. But inside Poseidon's heart, a new tide began to stir—one of suspicion, doubt, and curiosity.
And Jin smiled to himself.
"Let the gods play their games," he thought, "but I'll make the board mine."