How long has he been reincarnated into this world?
He is not even sure whether this was a mythology world, fate, or Danmachi, but being reincarnated as Zeus felt so real to him.
There are no men of culture that do not know who Zeus was; his harem legacy lives within us.
He could shoot thunder with his bird.
Well, let's stop with jokes, shall we?
Let's talk about more serious topic. This world wasn't a carbon copy of the myths he grew up reading. There were... differences. Big ones. For starters, Cronus hadn't gone full Titan-cannibal mode and swallowed him or his siblings. That alone was enough to leave him confused.
In the myths, Zeus should've been a baby when his mother, Rhea, saved his ass by switching him out with a rock and sending him to grow up in hiding while the rest of his siblings chilled in Cronus' stomach.
That wasn't how it played out here. Not even close. His siblings were alive, free, and strangely raised to adulthood under Cronus's watch.
Zeus couldn't explain it, but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't have to start from scratch, climbing his way out of his father's guts.
Still, there was something about it that didn't sit right with him.
Why hadn't Cronus eaten them?
What had changed? It was like some unseen hand had rewritten the rules, and Zeus had no clue if that was a good thing or not.
Being the youngest sibling and undeniably the favorite of the bunch came with perks.
Cronus, for reasons beyond Zeus's comprehension, decided it was time to throw a massive celebration for his coming of age.
But Zeus couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
His gut twisted every time he thought about it.
His siblings had gone ahead, promising to meet him before the party.
Yet hours passed, and they were nowhere to be found.
The silence was deafening, the absence gnawed at his nerves.
Something was wrong.
So, naturally, Zeus did what any stressed-out god with a libido the size of Olympus would do, he found someone to fuck.
He pulled Astraea, his cousin and lover (yeah, it's a family tradition at this point), into his chambers.
The Goddess of Justice, with her luscious curves and soft, moonlit skin, was more than willing to help him forget his worries for a while.
And forget he did.
The night was a haze of sweat, gasps, and tangled limbs.
He pounded her with all the ferocity befitting the future King of Olympus, his thunderous stamina leaving her screaming his name until her divine voice cracked.
By the time they were done, her legs were jelly, and the bed was a wreck.
If there was one thing Zeus had definitely inherited from the myths, it was his legacy as the God of Incest and Thunder.
When morning came, the golden rays of the sun streamed through the windows, and Zeus stirred, his arms still wrapped around Astraea's naked body.
Before he could fully shake off the haze of sleep, a knock shattered the peace.
The door creaked open, and a maid shuffled in, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor, clearly trying to avoid looking at the naked deities tangled in the bed.
"M-My lord," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your father... he's waiting for you."
Zeus groaned, his gut tightening again.
Cronus waiting for him?
That couldn't be good.
Something was coming, and he had a feeling it was about to shake Olympus to its core.
The maid didn't linger after delivering her message, quietly bowing before slipping out of the room, leaving Zeus and Astraea alone.
The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire nearby.
Zeus's piercing eyes followed the maid's exit before he turned his gaze toward Astraea.
There was a spark of suspicion in his voice as he suddenly asked, "Did my mother send you, Astraea?"
Astraea stiffened, clearly caught off guard by the directness of his question.
Her expression betrayed a flicker of unease as her sharp eyes darted to the shadows around them.
She hesitated, as though afraid that even the walls might be listening, but eventually nodded and spoke in a hushed tone.
"The party is a trap, Zeus. I don't know all the details, but something has gone terribly wrong. Your father… he's lost his mind. He has already devoured all of your siblings." Her voice wavered slightly, the weight of the revelation clear in her tone.
Zeus's expression darkened as he processed her words, his jaw clenching.
Astraea continued, her voice urgent. "Your mother saw how your father swallowed them due to a mere prophecy that you and your siblings would overthrow his rule."
"But we're not giving up, Zeus. Your mother won't let that bastard have you. We've been working in secret, gathering every resource, every ounce of strength she could muster. She's prepared an escape plan for you, to get you out of his reach."
"Do you think that preparation is enough to overthrow my father, Astraea?" Zeus didn't like the plan; instead, he asked about the possibility of their victory if they ignited the rebellion now.
He thought it was feasible; his father would think that he ambushed them when the truth was that he ambushed him first.
"This is crazy, Zeus. Are you sure you can win? Even though you are powerful, your father is more powerful and experienced than you think." Astraea looked at Zeus worriedly; she didn't want Zeus to die. It would be better to escape and summon more gods to fight for him, right?
After all, Zeus was still not grown up yet; his father was the God King, and his son's age and experience compared to his father's were not enough for him to win.
Moreover, if he escaped and summoned more gods to his cause, it would be more stable than this.
After all, most of the gods were already dissatisfied with his father's rule and tyranny, which had wiped out the Golden Humans and killed people wantonly whenever they displeased him.
The Golden Humans were not mere creations of the gods; they were the perfect image of them: strong, beautiful, and nearly immortal.
Compared to humans of modern times, the Golden Humans were beings who lived in a true utopia, where suffering, sickness, and death were merely abstract concepts.
They lived in peace and prosperity.
Unlike the humans who would come after them, the Golden Humans were not created to worship the gods or serve as their playthings.
They were the darlings of the gods and the perfect ideal of creation, the embodiment of what a perfect human could be, rather than the flawed humans of the future, who would be cruel, greedy, and ungrateful.
But Cronus, ever paranoid and ever cruel, saw their perfection as a threat.
He feared that these beings, so close to the gods themselves might one day rise up and challenge his authority.
And so, in an act of unthinkable brutality, he ordered their complete extermination.
Every Golden Human was hunted down and killed without mercy, their civilization erased from the face of the earth, their memory reduced to nothing but whispered legends and bitter resentment.
The gods who had created them, those who had poured their own essence into their making were horrified and enraged.
They watched in silent fury as Cronus destroyed their greatest work, but none dared to openly oppose him.
The God King's power was absolute, and his paranoia had already claimed countless victims among the divine.
Those who spoke out were silenced.
Those who resisted were crushed.
And so the gods buried their anger deep, waiting for the day when someone strong enough would finally rise to challenge the tyrant.
That was precisely why, if Zeus were given enough time to prepare, it wouldn't be impossible for him to overthrow his father's rule and establish himself as the new King of the Gods.
With the support of the gods who had been persecuted and wronged by Cronus, the ones who had lost their beloved creations, their freedom, and their dignity under his brutal regime, Zeus could gather an army powerful enough to topple even the mightiest of tyrants.
It was far more feasible than this plan of confronting Cronus directly.
So, she thought this plan was crazy.
"Moreover, fate already said that your siblings wouldn't simply die like that. It needs more time for your father to digest them fully. So, let's forget about this crazy plan. Let's escape, Zeus; I'm sure we would win if you were given enough time." Astraea advised.
"No. This is not crazy. I, Zeus, will not abandon any of my siblings in the hand of fate. No one can change my decision, Astraea."
"You can leave; no one will blame you for fighting the impossible." Zeus stated.
"Only death can tear us apart, Zeus. I will rally as many Gods as I can who despise your father just as much as you do," Astraea declared, her voice unwavering, her eyes blazing with the same fierce determination she saw reflected in Zeus' own.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, a silent vow passing between them as though their shared defiance had already begun to shape the very fabric of Olympus.
She would stand beside him, no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.
Since their minds and hearts had reached this profound and dangerous alignment, Astraea saw no point in wasting another moment.
Time, after all, was a luxury they did not have.
She turned to Zeus, her tone urgent.
"You must face your father first," she said firmly, "while I work to convince the others to join our cause. Helios, Oceanus, and Gaia have long awaited this day; they burn with the same desire to overthrow him. They would fight for you, Zeus. I swear it on my name as the Goddess of Justice."
Her words carried the weight of absolute conviction. "But you must not, under any circumstances, let him know your true purpose. Wait for us, wait for the right moment. I beg you."
Zeus listened intently, her plea cutting through the raw fire of his fury.
He nodded, her advice sinking into the depths of his mind.
Rising from the bedchamber where they had shared their conspiratorial union and much more, he cast aside any notion of donning battle armor.
That would be far too obvious, far too reckless.
Instead, he clothed himself simply in a toga, leaving the appearance of a drunken reveler rather than a warrior ready to wage war.
His plan was one of deception. If his father had even the faintest inkling of his true intentions, the entire rebellion would be crushed before it could even begin.
Zeus approached the mirror, carefully crafting his disguise.
He let his face slacken, his expression adopting the sluggish stupor of someone too drunk to think straight.
The art of misdirection was key, no one could suspect that the disheveled son before them was secretly the spark that would ignite the flames of rebellion.
A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
Even the maid sent by his father to spy on him had played into his hands.
She'd witnessed his "indiscretions" with Astraea the night before, and that would serve as the perfect distraction.
To all who looked upon him, Zeus would appear as nothing more than a lust-driven fool, stumbling from his latest debauchery.
A son too enamored with his own desires to pose any real threat to his father's rule.
Satisfied with his reflection, he took a deep breath.
He could feel the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on him.
His time had come.
Either he would succeed and strike down his tyrannical father, or he would die trying.
There was no middle ground.
No mercy.
No turning back.