If you looked close enough, you'd see the columns couldn't take much more.

For weeks now the temple of Ares had been occupied day and night. Before it had gone months without being touched which made it even more ironic that its god's killer was the one using it.

Zeus had insisted. Besides the irony, the temple of Ares was the only place Jake's training could take place. The stone pillars rounded all four sides. Three muraled walls with graphic scenes of war and one entire wall missing. Jake had been stunned at the aerial view of Olympus.

He had stood there for a solid five minutes like he hadn't done that an hour ago, but he couldn't help himself. Olympus was stunning. The entire mountain floated in its own domain, the entire pantheon scattered in all its glory along the mountain.

The greatest detail for Jake was the view. Each day it would change, God's view in Mpumalanga. Florence in Italy. The Alps. Greek influence, like many other pantheons, was now global thanks to books and Wikipedia which apparently meant an endless supply of scenery.

"Let's try again." Came a voice from behind him. Zeus adjusted his breastplate strap and smirked.

The king of Olympus looked young like most gods, not a scar or wrinkle in sight. His bronze skin clashed with the gold, intricate armour he wore and his eyes resembled his lightning. Piercing. Only his hair was a mess, chopped unevenly. Jake smirked everytime his eyes wondered to it.

His royal ass had the idea that Jake needed training. He was obviously a god at this point (too much blood circulating within). What Zeus had forgotten was that half his Olympians were currently dead at the hands of the newbie god. A fact he quickly learnt when Jake had taken a sword to his hair. 

For a so called god, Jake didn't feel or look any different. His hair had grown out longer, his skin still the natural tanned as before. If anything, his muscles had become more defined, maybe from Zeus' training but he had explained that Jake's self-conscious image of himself was now a reality. Perks of being a god.

"Explain it to me again. One more time." Jake pleaded because he was starting to get annoyed by this particular regiment.

Zeus sighed and held out his model hand. There, in his palm, light flickered hesitantly then steadily. Not light, electricity.

"When I was born I wasn't the god of the sky. I got the sky. I got the lightning bolt." He closed his hand and the sky rumbled in reply, but the energy still played in his eyes. "Your powers are within you. Earth, Life, Hell, Death. Gaia, Exodus, Tartarus, Hades. So what does that make you? Time to draw it out."

Jake always wondered if he could take the king of Olympus on. True, he had taken down the other Olympians but that was with, admittedly, Hades control. Really what Jake wondered was where Zeus stacked up against him and it scared him to think that this god would fall too.

He had hoped the chambers would've been the end. Get some answers, move on. Not meet another god who'd set him on his way to some inevitable challenge.

Whatever Ouranos wanted, he'd been very clear that Jake needed a piece of him for that final challenge and what greater trainer for the sky god's powers than Zeus himself?

Jake prepped his stance, legs shoulder width apart and hands flexed. He drew in a slow breath but it felt as if air filled every molecule within. Jake searched for it, the familiar feeling that he had felt everytime he fought with Zeus.

There.

The splinter of glass.

He closed his hands, tense and when he opened his eyes the impossible happened. Olympus shook.