Chapter 2: The Gods’ Wrath Unleashed

Apollo, one of the West’s twelve principal gods, is dead—slain by a monkey. The news spread like wildfire, shaking every god from coast to coast.

Headlines screamed across every screen: "God of Light Falls!" "Divine War Erupts!" Even the skeptics couldn’t deny the evidence—Apollo’s shattered body, scorch marks on the Rockies, and the lingering scent of ozone. CNN, Fox News, and Twitter all exploded, hashtags like #MonkeyGod and #DivineShowdown trending within hours. Conspiracy theories and memes swirled like autumn leaves in a storm.

No one expected Apollo, god of light and the sun, to fall so disgracefully to an Eastern monkey. Rumor has it his head was smashed to pieces!

Talk shows debated what it meant, historians dug up old myths, and kids at the skate park swapped stories. "Dude, it’s like Superman versus Goku!" one shouted. "Nah, more like Thor got wrecked by King Kong," another joked, the legend growing with each retelling.

When his corpse was hurled onto the Rockies, it was said King Zeus was so enraged he destroyed more than one mortal city.

Lightning storms swept through the Midwest, tornadoes touched down where none were forecast. Farmers cursed the weather, insurance adjusters groaned, and church prayer circles gathered, hoping for mercy. The wrath of the gods felt real, and no one was safe from its reach.

“Speak—regarding Apollo’s death, what should we do?” Atop the Rockies, Zeus sat on his throne, his face dark as thunder.

The throne was carved from the mountain itself, like something out of a Wall Street boardroom—long stone table, coffee mugs scattered, gods tense and silent. Zeus’s eyes narrowed, the air crackling with power. The Western pantheon gathered, uneasy, knowing the old king’s anger was legendary.

How many years has it been? Now the Western gods stand so high, even among equals, they tower above all others. Who dares defy them?

The gods remembered the old days, when mortals trembled at their names. Now, with Apollo fallen, doubt crept in—were they still invincible? Silence hung heavy, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder.

But this time, the pride of the Rockies was trampled by that monkey! All for killing a mere beast, and the Eastern gods dared attack Apollo—simply unforgivable!

Zeus’s fists clenched, veins bulging. The insult was personal—a challenge to his authority. Some gods hid smirks, others bit their lips. The old order was shifting, and no one knew where it would end.

“Father, in my opinion, we cannot let this go! Those ancient Eastern gods are hopelessly old-fashioned, wanting to start a divine war over a mere beast! If they want war, then war it is! Rumor has it the Eastern divine lands are so rich, it’s unimaginable…”

Ares, always hungry for battle, leaned forward, eyes alight. He sounded like a quarterback before the Super Bowl, itching for action. The promise of new territory and spoils made his heart race.

At this, the once-righteous war god Ares couldn’t help but lick his lips, fervor gleaming in his eyes.

The other gods shifted, some nodding. The Eastern lands were a mystery, rumored to hold treasures and secrets beyond imagining. Ares's enthusiasm was contagious, and the council buzzed with anticipation.

The Eastern divine lands—so many gods have longed to explore, but never had the chance. Now, for the Western pantheon, opportunity was knocking—how could they not seize it?

It felt like Manifest Destiny all over again—the urge to expand and conquer burned in their veins. The old boundaries no longer seemed sacred; the promise of power was too tempting.

“Father, no!” At that moment, Athena stepped forward, worry in her eyes. “We know nothing of the foundation of the ancient Eastern gods! Back then, luring the unicorn under the guise of disaster relief, then killing it to seize its fortune, was already a grave mistake! Now Apollo is dead—maybe this is our chance to resolve the conflict with those ancient Eastern gods. How can we attack them?”

Athena’s voice was calm but urgent, her words echoing through the chamber. She remembered the unicorn’s gentle eyes, the trust they’d betrayed. Her plea was for wisdom, not war, but she knew she was fighting an uphill battle. Her voice broke slightly, but the council barely glanced her way, dismissive and impatient.

That day, Athena was the most reluctant to attack the unicorn, but how could she alone oppose the will of all the Western gods?

She stood tall, jaw set, but tradition was a heavy burden, and the council was hungry for revenge. Athena’s isolation was palpable, her courage both a shield and a curse.

“Ridiculous! A mere beast! How could it compare to Apollo! If those ancient Eastern gods truly wish for peace, they should send that monkey’s head to the Rockies immediately! Then we can discuss further compensation!”

Hades, lord of the underworld, leaned back, voice dripping with contempt. He saw opportunity in chaos, power in the downfall of others. His eyes glittered, calculating, as he pressed his demand, his demeanor reminiscent of a Vegas crime boss eyeing his next big score.

Hades, lord of the underworld, sneered, greed flashing in his eyes. If he could obtain the divine body of the monkey who slew Apollo, his power in the underworld would soar!

He imagined the monkey’s spirit chained in his domain, a trophy to flaunt before the other gods. The taste of victory was sweet, and Hades was eager to claim it.

“That’s right! A mere monkey dares kill a Western god—he must die!”

“I agree! The unicorn affair was settled by Apollo; the Eastern pantheon must negotiate new terms with us!”

“You bet! I suspect other ancient Eastern gods may have attacked Apollo! The Eastern pantheon must pay the price!”

“Darn right… agreed!”

The council erupted in agreement, voices overlapping in a chorus of condemnation. The hunger for retribution drowned out reason, and even the gentler gods found themselves swept up in the tide.

“You all!” Athena’s face darkened, words caught in her throat.

She wanted to shout, to plead for mercy, but the council’s fury was overwhelming. She clenched her fists, determined not to give up, even as hope faded.

But just as she tried to speak, Zeus coldly cut her off! “Enough! No more debate! I have decided! You’re right—that monkey must die! Hades, you will go to the Council yourself and deliver all our demands! If they refuse… heh, let them face the wrath of the Western gods!”

Zeus’s decree was final, his authority absolute. The gods bowed their heads, knowing the old king would brook no dissent. A thunderclap shook the chamber, and nervous glances darted across the room.

With that, rings of divine light flared behind Zeus, his power vast and overwhelming! “Yes!”

The council dispersed, each god nursing their own ambitions and fears. Hades grinned, eager for the coming confrontation. The fate of the world now hung in the balance, and everyone knew it.

Seeing this, Hades’ eyes gleamed with joy as he accepted the command. He could hardly wait to see those ancient Eastern gods bow and beg before him!

He pictured himself striding into the Eastern council, demands in hand, ready to watch them squirm. Victory was within reach, and he savored the anticipation.

Heh… ancient Eastern gods? Just stray dogs abandoned by the times!

He laughed to himself, dismissing the old legends. The West was ascendant, and the East—well, they were about to learn what true power looked like.