Chapter 126: Heracles Holds Up the Sky
The lightning thinned.
The descending divine spear shattered.
At the boundary of the Imaginary Number Space, the King of the Gods, Zeus, lowered his gaze.
He saw countless sparks, vast as a Milky Way scattered across the earth.
He saw The People boiling with montum, dazzling and terrifying in their faintness, as if even fireflies could beco a constellation if they refused to go out.
Rowe raised his fist, drew those human sparks to himself, and surged upward.
“So it is you, the sage of the human world.”
The voice ca from the highest reaches, heavy and absolute, like judgnt itself.
Then the tone snapped.
“You motherfucker, I will kill you.”
Now that he had confird the culprit behind Greece’s current changes, Zeus, having switched to his combat personality, did not conceal anything. At the boundary of the Imaginary Number Space, he twisted his authority over lightning into spears and hurled them down. Wind and fire followed.
The sky looked torn, streaks of light interweaving into a net that wanted to pin the world in place.
In an instant, thousands of sparks gathered into Rowe’s palm. The stacked computational power surged, and Rowe analyzed the lightning’s flaws in a single breath.
He raised his arm and threw a punch.
The rotating force of the crimson primordial star roared through the machina god’s imnse propulsion, shattering the incoming lightning head on. A crimson storm swept toward Zeus’s position.
Then, as it neared, it vanished into the void, swallowed by distance and dinsion.
Protheus had been right.
Zeus stood too high.
An absurdly high and distant realm, a dinsion only supre gods who had reached primordial specifications could touch.
Rowe could not reach it now.
Not yet.
Only by fully drawing out Cronus’s power, and then integrating the power of the Greek gods on the earth, could he grasp that height.
“You who disrespect the gods, you who disrespect the God of all gods, you shall receive the punishnt of thunder.”
The roar rolled down from the highest heavens.
The lightning spears grew heavier with each strike.
Zeus was increasing his output, slowly, deliberately. He wanted to kill Rowe, but more than that, he wanted to carve fear into the world by killing Rowe.
Like teasing an ant.
Down, again and again.
Rowe t one bolt after another, and the altitude he held was forced lower each ti.
A crimson storm wrapped the machina god’s body. Its iron wings spread, gathering endless sparks. Rowe condensed the wisdom of The People and used it as his mind, forcing a link toward the gods on the earth.
But linking required ti.
And it was not that Rowe did not want to face Zeus after completing it. The mont the connection truly opened, Rowe would be exposed to Zeus’s sight with brutal clarity.
Zeus was too strong.
The almighty god who unified the Twelve Olympian Gods was not even at his limit, yet he was already a supre, primordial great god who could rival the primordial goddess Tiamat.
The heaven he occupied was the highest heaven.
The world he stood in was the highest world.
Supre, most holy, most powerful.
At this mont, in all Greek mythology, from ancient tis to the present, only Chaos could suppress him.
All others, gods or heroes, were dust before Zeus.
Dust he could examine grain by grain.
Rowe was no exception.
So Rowe could only gamble.
A wise man calculates ninety nine steps.
There is always one step where he must advance anyway.
In Uruk City, Enkidu lifted her head.
“Rowe…”
She knew it was not her ti to act. She would not let Rowe’s plan collapse because of her impulse.
She was a weapon.
A divine weapon of Rowe.
So why did her chest ache?
Why did unwillingness cling to her throat like a thorn?
In Athens, Athena, wearing the crown of the gods, closed her eyes and linked her existence to Rowe’s call.
Artemis rose to an extrely high position, casting a sliver of moonlight that reflected the shadow of the machina god battling thunder.
Queen Hera willingly let her authority flow out.
Apollo watched with a solemn expression, staring at the world destroying power of his father god.
Hestia looked on in awe, but this ti she could no longer pretend she was uninvolved.
Their reactions differed.
Their choices did not.
At this mont, they all supported Rowe.
Because none of them wanted to die.
None of them wanted to be executed as traitors under Zeus’s gaze.
The engine inside Rowe surged. Burning power held him up, and the suspended machina god climbed again.
Boom.
The rotating star force intertwined with lightning once more.
If not for the extrely high essence of the authority derived from Ea, Rowe would have been shattered long ago.
Not enough.
Not enough.
Still not enough.
Rowe forced himself to break spear after spear, and then a voice cut through everything.
“Let do it.”
The voice was not loud.
Yet it reached everyone’s ears.
On the Caucasus Mountains, the closest place to heaven in Greece, but on a different peak opposite the one where Protheus had been bound, a figure appeared.
Gods and mortals alike turned at the sa ti.
Even Zeus paused his lightning and cast his eye toward that mountain.
A tall, robust figure.
Muscles bare, veins like cords, black hair swept back.
A man whose presence felt like a banner raised against the sky.
Heracles.
Greece’s most famous great hero.
The symbol of heroes.
“Mr. Rowe, I am here.”
He smiled at the machina god Rowe had beco, eyes sweeping over the cold, softly glowing chanical face.
Rowe laughed.
“I knew you would co.”
Even without an agreent.
Even after so long without contact.
He knew this hero would not be absent from a grand event that dragged gods and humans onto the sa stage.
Heracles lifted his chin, looking up toward Zeus.
“My father god, Zeus.”
“Heracles, my child.”
Zeus’s voice softened for a breath.
Then it beca filth and thunder.
“Motherfucker, are you going to betray too, you bastard?”
The gods fell silent.
Zeus was furious.
Heracles was even more so.
“I have never betrayed anyone,” Heracles roared back. “I have never betrayed any god.”
“Zeus, you abandoned after I was born, but I still followed your will and walked this path called hero.”
“The Argo’s adventure, the Twelve Labors, the deep sea, the underworld. I have been to all of them.”
“But what I upheld was always my own will.”
His chest heaved. His eyes burned.
“I am Heracles.”
“Not your child.”
“I am a hero.”
He had wanted to beco a hero since he was very, very young.
Not a decoration chosen by the gods.
A hero of The People.
A hero of humanity.
If there was justice among the gods, he would have been willing to be a hero of the gods too.
So after parting ways with Rowe that year, his adventures only beca grander. His achievents eclipsed every other hero in Greece.
Not because he was a puppet of divine favor.
Because he was Heracles.
Because Heracles wanted to beco a true hero.
“Rebellious son.”
Zeus’s rage distorted the heavens.
“Die, you dog.”
This ti, Zeus did not use lightning.
He brought down an entire sky.
The authority of heaven itself, wielded by the King of the Gods.
Imnse gravity pressed down.
Heracles’s bones shattered instantly.
Blood burst from his pores.
He was a mortal.
A demigod with the blood of Zeus’s human terminal.
And yet.
Mortals could still create miracles.
His broken feet trembled, then dug in again.
His body, forced low by the sky, straightened.
He endured endless pain, endless tornt, and still forced himself upright.
“I should stand before The People too.”
“This is the great feat created by , Heracles.”
Zeus trembled.
Because at that mont, Heracles stood up.
Holding up the sky.
Countless light and shadows flared across his body.
Jason.
Peleus.
Achilles.
Hektor.
Hero after hero, will after will, layered into him like armor and fla.
Before coming, he had t them.
He had carried their resolve here.
What he represented was not just one man.
What he represented was this era.
The condensation of the glorious heroic will that Rowe had changed.
Brilliance returning to humanity.
In the past, Rowe had inspired Heracles.
Now, Heracles beca Rowe’s backing.
“Roar.”
The hero’s roar shook the mountain.
Here, in this mont, he rivaled the gods.
First, the starlight of The People flowed like a river.
Then, heroic glory ignited.
Across Greece, gods held their breath.
Even the God King fell silent.
Rowe only clenched his fist again.
Because in the instant Heracles bought for him, he completed the link.
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