In the blink of an eye, our surroundings shifted, and we found ourselves standing before the awe-inspiring Empire State Building. Its grandeur loomed above us, piercing the sky with its towering presence. Without hesitation, we headed straight inside, passing through the grand entrance.
Approaching the guard stationed at the front desk, I exuded an air of unwavering confidence as I spoke, "Six hundredth floor."
The guard, deeply engrossed in a massive fantasy book featuring a wizard on its elaborate cover, initially seemed slow to react. His eyes slowly lifted from the pages, and he responded with an air of casual indifference,
"No such floor, kiddo."Determined and resolute, I repeated my request, unwavering in my purpose.
"I need an audience with Zeus."
The guard, still seemingly lost in the world of his fantasy novel, offered a vacant smile. "Sorry?"
"You heard me," I stated firmly, my resolve unshaken.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, the guard retorted, "No appointment, no audience, kiddo. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."
A sly grin tugged at the corners of my lips as I prepared to reveal my ace in the hole. I nonchalantly slipped off my backpack, unzipped the top, and revealed the mysterious metal cylinder concealed within.
The guard's eyes widened dramatically as he beheld the enigmatic object. He stammered, attempting to articulate his thoughts. "That isn't..."
Without missing a beat, I interrupted, my voice laced with confidence, "Yes, it is."
A palpable tension hung in the air as the guard hesitated. I seized the opportunity, pressing my advantage. "You want me to take it out and—"
"No! No!" The guard's frantic response echoed through the lobby as he hastily scrambled to locate a key card. Finally, he retrieved it and thrust it toward me. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."
I accepted the key card, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. With the elevator doors closing behind me, I followed the guard's instructions to the letter. The key card disappeared into the slot, replaced by a new button on the console—a foreboding red button labeled "600."
Steeling myself, I pressed the ominous button and braced for the journey ahead. As the elevator began its ascent, the saccharine tunes of the Muzak system filled the air, offering an incongruously cheerful backdrop to our clandestine mission.With a triumphant ding, the elevator doors slid open, revealing a sight that nearly sent my heart racing out of my chest. I stepped onto a narrow stone walkway suspended in the vast expanse of the sky, high above the sprawling metropolis of Manhattan. The cityscape stretched out beneath me, its intricate web of streets and buildings reduced to miniature form.
Before me, a spiraling staircase, carved from pristine white marble, ascended into the heavens. It resembled nothing less than the spine of a cloud, reaching toward realms unknown. My eyes followed the majestic stairway as it spiraled upward, leading to a culmination that defied comprehension.
The sight that awaited me at the zenith of that ethereal staircase was beyond the scope of mortal imagination. Olympus, the home of the gods, stood in all its magnificent glory. It was a realm that Rick Riordan's words could not adequately convey, a realm that defied expectations and transcended the limits of storytelling.
Amidst the celestial splendor, I knew one thing for certain—Olympus was far more magnificent and awe-inspiring than I had ever envisioned.Emerging from the ethereal sea of clouds, a majestic mountain peak loomed into view, its snow-capped pinnacle soaring gracefully into the heavens. As if carved by divine hands, the mountainside cradled a sprawling city, a testament to architectural opulence. It appeared as though I had stumbled upon a realm where the grandeur of ancient Greece thrived, untouched by the ravages of time.
Each palatial structure, clinging to the mountainside like a series of ascending tiers, exuded an air of aristocratic splendor. White-columned porticos greeted visitors, and gilded terraces gleamed in the divine light. Bronze braziers adorned the periphery, casting a warm, inviting glow that painted the heavens with a multitude of colors. Serpentine roads serpentined their way up the mountainside, leading to the grandest palace that perched regally at the summit. Along the precarious slopes, gardens thrived with the lushness of olive trees and fragrant rose bushes.
The city's heart pulsed with life, akin to the bustling streets of Athens in its prime, twenty-five centuries ago. An open-air market beckoned with its vibrant tents, merchants hawking their wares.A stone amphitheater nestled on one side of the mountain, where the arts and muses flourished. On the opposite side, a hippodrome and a coliseum stood as testaments to athletic prowess and valor. This was no relic of history; it was a vibrant, living realm, bathed in the vivid colors of antiquity.
My resolve remained unshaken as I trod through the divine streets of Olympus. The wood nymphs, giddy and playful, pelted me with olives from their luxuriant garden. In the bustling market, hawkers vied for my attention, offering ambrosia-on-a-stick, magnificent shields, and authentic glitter-weave replicas of the coveted Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV.
The nine muses, ethereal and entrancing, tuned their instruments for an upcoming concert in the park, attracting a mesmerized audience of satyrs, naiads, and a congregation of exceptionally attractive adolescents who might very well have been minor deities. Festivity danced through the air, and even as I pressed onward, I couldn't escape the curious glances and hushed whispers that followed me.
Continuing my ascent, I followed the grand thoroughfare, which led to the paramount palace crowning the mountain's zenith. It was the antithesis of the court I had observed in the Underworld. There, an aura of somber shades, black and bronze, had reigned supreme. Here, in Olympus, everything shimmered in shades of pristine white and brilliant silver.
A realization dawned upon me—Hades had mirrored this celestial realm when designing his own domain. Exiled from Olympus, save for the winter solstice, he had sculpted his realm beneath the earth's surface, an underground reflection of this magnificent world. It was hard not to feel a pang of empathy; banishment from such resplendence undoubtedly harbored a sense of injustice, sowing the seeds of bitterness in any being.
The grand steps led me to a central courtyard, a sanctuary of celestial beauty. Beyond it lay the throne room, a space that defied all expectations of grandeur. It transcended mere descriptions of a "room." It was as though Grand Central Station had been reborn in divine splendor, with towering columns ascending to a domed ceiling adorned with constellations that seemed to come alive, a celestial symphony of cosmic wonders.
The grand throne room, designed to accommodate the stature of gods, bore an elegant arrangement of twelve thrones. These imposing seats formed an inverted U shape, reminiscent of the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. A colossal fire blazed within a central hearth pit, casting an ethereal glow across the opulent chamber. The gods occupied their designated thrones, their imposing forms engaged in impassioned debates.
Much like Hades, the gods appeared in their magnificent human forms, each radiating an aura befitting their divine status. Zeus, clad in a dark blue pinstripe suit, rested upon a throne fashioned from solid platinum. His impeccably groomed beard displayed a mesmerizing blend of gray and black, reminiscent of a gathering storm cloud. His countenance exuded an air of regal pride, handsome and resolute, with eyes as gray as the tempest.
As I approached, a tangible charge of electricity infused the atmosphere, accompanied by the faint scent of ozone. The gods abruptly ceased their contentious discussions, their attention drawn to my entrance. I paid no heed to their hushed murmurs or Aphrodite's dramatic wailing.
"Greetings, esteemed deities of the Greek Pantheon," I declared with unshakable confidence. "I have arrived, bearing a colossal sparkling toothpick for the illustrious Mr. Thunderpants."Apollo and Hermes burst into unrestrained laughter, their joviality infectious as a few others couldn't help but crack smiles. However, Zeus remained shrouded in an aura of simmering rage.
"So, the thief has come to return what he stole?" Zeus thundered, his voice resonating like a gathering storm.
"Pray, enlighten me," I responded calmly, "were you bestowed with a singular brain cell from birth, or did you forfeit them, one by one, as the ages passed?"
"Excuse me?" Zeus's fists clenched, his anger palpable.
"You are excused. Next time instead of blaming others for your problems, try to talk it out with the council because that is what you are, correct?"
"I mean, yes," Zeus grumbled begrudgingly, "I mean, yes, but I know you stole my bolt because-"
"If you say because I am your brother's son, you are a further idiot than I thought."
"YOU INSUFFERABLE-!" Zeus roared, his fury surging.
"Father, please," Athena interjected, her wisdom prevailing to forestall Zeus's impending outburst. He acquiesced, grumbling as he slouched upon his throne.
"Son," Poseidon interjected, his voice carrying the weight of reason, "kindly elucidate the events that transpired." This provided me with an opening to narrate the unfolding events. I presented the story in its entirety, omitting minor details deemed unnecessary for their understanding.
"I sense the lad speaks the truth," Zeus begrudgingly admitted. "Yet, the involvement of Ares and Heracles... it is uncharacteristic of them."
"Both are known for their impulsivity and pride," Poseidon contributed, a hint of family jest in his tone.
"Anyways," I added, "Next time claim your kid, Zeus."
"I don't have any children." The King of Olympus huffed.
"Oh really? Even after what you did to my mother? I am surprised you didn't realize, well don't worry, I really don't care if you claim me or not. Cause I'll never see a bastard like you as my father."