A violent crack tears through the marble columns of the Olympian palace as the emperor materializes before the assembled gods. His presence radiates an aura that makes the very air thick with the promise of judgment. The Olympians recoil instinctively—even Zeus, lord of the sky and lightning, finds himself struggling to maintain his composure as the emperor's gaze sweeps across the divine assembly.
"What passes for governance here?" The emperor's voice thunders like the collapse of an entire star system, each word carrying the weight of a thousand centuries. His gauntleted fist slams down on the obsidian table, leaving a spider-web of cracks that spread outward with alarming speed. The Olympians shrink back like frightened children caught stealing sweets, their immortal flesh quivering beneath the Emperor's burning gaze. Even Zeus, who once defied the Titans with thunderbolts, finds his hand unsteady as he raises it to his face. The Olympian Throne room pulses with golden light, but it dims under the Emperor's presence, the very walls seeming to sag inward from his proximity.
"The corruption stinks of decay," the Emperor intones, his tone as cold and unyielding as the grave. "A pantheon so weak it would let itself be reduced to petty squabbles and indulgence while the fabric of reality unravels beneath you."
." Blood drips from Zeus' mouth as he struggles to form words, the Emperor's aura pressing down on him like an anvil. The marble beneath their feet begins to crack, each fissure spreading outward with the sound of shattering bones.
"I-I speak for all of us, Great One," Zeus stammers, his voice carrying the first note of genuine fear in millennia. "We have not..." He pauses, his throat constricting as the Emperor's attention turns fully upon him. "We have not... we have never witnessed such... power." The words taste like ash in his mouth, and he can feel the other gods recoiling further into the shadows behind him.
Zeus's knees buckle as the Emperor's gaze fixes upon him, the weight of countless conquered worlds pressing down like the crushing depths of the ocean. The marble beneath your feet fractures further, spidering outward in intricate patterns that mirror the capillaries in your flesh. The golden light of the throne room dims to a dull glow, struggling against the cold radiance that emanates from the Emperor's armor.
"There is no 'we' in this chamber," the Emperor states, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the bones of every god present. "Only the weak and the condemned." His gauntleted hand extends, and Zeus finds himself unable to move as invisible tendrils of the Emperor's will seize his throat.
The golden light of the throne room flickers like a dying candle as the Emperor's words slice through the air, each syllable carrying the crushing force of a collapsing star. Zeus's body convulses against the invisible bonds that constrict his throat, his divine blood pooling on the cracked marble as the other Olympians watch in horrified silence. The very air thickens with the Emperor's presence, heavy with the scent of burning ozone and the promise of annihilation.
"What... what do you want from us?" Hera's voice breaks through the suffocating silence, her usually proud bearing crumbling as she shrinks behind her husband's shuddering form.
The Emperor's head turns slowly toward Hera, his piercing stare boring into her as if she were a particularly interesting insect. "What I want?" His voice carries the distant roar of galaxies being consumed by supernovae. "You speak of wants, but this is not about wants. This is about necessity." His grip on Zeus tightens, lifting the lord of the sky off the ground until his feet dangle inches above the fractured marble.
"The web of causality frays at the edges, and your bickering has weakened the fundamental structure that holds reality together."
The marble beneath your feet fractures with a thunderous crack as Zeus's body convulses in the Emperor's unyielding grasp. Blood vessels burst in his face, painting his beard crimson as the air refuses to flow into his lungs. The other gods recoil in horror—even Poseidon, who once battled the Titans with his trident, now clutches his throat as if already feeling the Emperor's invisible hands closing around his windpipe.
"What can we do?" Hermes asks, the god of thieves' usually quick tongue stumbling over the words. "We didn't know." The Emperor's head snaps toward him with terrifying speed, his glowing eye sockets locking onto the messenger god like a hunter spotting prey.
Terror floods through Hermes' immortal veins as the Emperor's attention focuses on him with the intensity of a dying star. The messenger god's knees buckle beneath him, sending him crashing to the fractured marble floor as an invisible force presses down on his chest like a Titan's boot. Around him, the other Olympians scramble backward, their divine forms shaking with primal fear as the Emperor's presence suffocates the very air they breathe.
"Knowledge is no excuse for negligence," the Emperor intones, his voice carrying the distant screams of countless worlds burning in the void.
The chamber of the Olympians trembles with an unnatural stillness. Zeus dangles above the shattered marble, his face purpled, his body convulsing as the Emperor's grip tightens. His divine essence pours from his mouth like liquid gold, spilling onto the cracking floor. The other gods press themselves against the walls, their immortal forms quivering, their golden skin turning ashen under the Emperor's gaze.
You stand at the very edge of the gathering, your armored frame casting no shadow. The gods shrink from you instinctively, their divine senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of your being. Even Artemis, goddess of the hunt, cannot bring herself to nock an arrow against you—her bow quivers in her hands.
The Olympians cower like children before the crackling discharge of a plasma coil. Their divine flesh writhes beneath your gaze—each pore leaking golden ichor as their bodies reject the Emperor's presence. Hades, the lord of the dead, clutches his stomach and vomits a stream of blackened bone fragments. Athena, cradling her head, speaks in fragmented words: "The pressure... it's crushing my thoughts."
Zeus's eyes bulge as his throat continues to constrict. The golden veins in his face pop like overstressed cables, spilling divine essence across the fractured marble in rivulets that hiss and smoke.