Chapter 5: The Time of Typhon

“Impossible ... Impossible to defeat Typhon.”Zeus, The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan (2009)

A shadow fell upon Mount Olympus from the sheer size of the beast that had come to claim the city. The earth trembled from Typhon’s sheer size.

Zeus and Metis stood side by side. They shared an unshakable resolve even in the face of the monstrous terror that loomed before them. With lightning crackling in his hand and the golden fist of power clenched tightly at his side, Zeus stood ready for the clash that was to come. He had been in many battles thanks to the Great War. In his youth, his leg had shaken when the battle looked bleak. After so much conflict, he did not necessarily look forward to the oncoming storm, but he would not flee or cower.

From that experience, he knew what was to come, and so, his gaze was fixed upon the living nightmare known as Typhon. The lighting lord would never take his eyes off his opponent, not until the battle had truly begun.

Beside him, Metis wielded the Aegis shield. She did not need to shine the peerless protective weapon, for its surface gleamed even with the sun rays being blocked. Her grip tightened and loosened on the strap that held the defensive armament.

For her part, she could feel it coming. Seeing Gaia made Metis all too away that while gods were ageless and timeless, they were not invincible, nor invulnerable. They could be harmed, and if a being could be harmed, they could be killed. Her time was coming. Perhaps it was not to the behemoth before her, but her end was coming.

That revelation was actually a bit of a balm all things considered. The end was coming. It was a blessing most beings could not appreciate, but Metis was capable of seeing its uses. After all, death was a part of life. It always had been, even if the deities of Greece had not always been aware of it.

Ouranos had lived believing that he could go on forever and ever.

Metis lived under no such delusion. She always knew things would end. She would soon be in Hades’ domain. That was her comfort. The next part of her journey had already been decided.

While Typhon might not do it, it would come nonetheless. That gave her the motivation to face this foe. It was not courage, for there was no fear. She was emboldened, empowered, entirely gifted with a singular focus on the battle ahead.

Typhon’s towering form loomed over them in a snarl of primal rage. There was no bracing themselves for the coming onslaught. It would come no matter what they did, and they did not have the power to weather this storm unscathed.

With a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the earth, Typhon lashed forward, unleashing a torrent of fire from the serpents that coiled around his body. Their emerald and crimson hues cast an eerie glow when illuminated by their flames.

With the speed of lightning, Zeus raised his Master Lightning Bolt. The clouds overhead bunched together in an effort to help their master channel the power of the heavens into a devastating bolt of energy. The arcing flashes of light danced through the air with blinding speed.

All too quickly, his new bolt flew through the air when he hurled it at Typhon. The crackling bolt struck Typhon’s chest with a thunderous impact, forcing the massive form to stagger back from the force of the blow.

Metis raised her Aegis shield with the knowledge that she could not wait pulsing through her mind. This Typhon had bested Poseidon in single combat while pushing back Pontus and Cetus. She would not underestimate this being. With a mighty swing, she blocked the fiery breath. The flames cascaded harmlessly off the shield.

Typhon was undeterred by the two and surged forward with primal fury. With a sweep of his massive tentacles, he lashed out at Zeus and Metis. While all of the attacks did not land, his blows rained down upon them. Some bounced off of Metis’ shield. Some landed on Metis’ side. Zeus tried to punch and attack as many of the blows that fell upon him, but even he was overcome by the onslaught.

Defiantly roaring, Zeus punched forward with his golden fist. Even with the lashing and the compounding blows, he surged forward. Typhon would know his power. The ground trembled beneath their feet from the cataclysmic battle.

This battle between gods and monster was shaking Olympus in a way it had never been before. With each blow exchanged between Zeus and Typhon, Metis gawked in amazement. He was pushing the creature back momentarily. He was doing more damage than Cratus, the other protectors, and Poseidon. It became hard to breathe as the air crackled with raw power and became thick with an oppressive heat that seemed to make the oxygen both thin and thick in nature.

With the barrage taking a toll on the child of Gaia and Tartarus, Typhon roared at Zeus. In one swift motion, he lashed out brutally with a massive, sweeping blow of his wings.

Metis could barely see Zeus’ form hurtling through the sky above. With a thunderous crash, Zeus collided with one of the many stone pillars on Olympus. The impact made Metis flinch in both empathy and impressed recognition of the damage being done.

As Zeus struggled to rise from the rubble, Metis knew this was her moment. It had come much sooner than she expected. Loosening the strap on her shield, she stepped forward with finality. Her life for Zeus’; that was what her end would. Perhaps, it always had been. With the Aegis shield held aloft, she hurled the divine weapon with unerring accuracy.

The golden shield spun through the air with a glinting divine light. Its make was peerless in the realm of shields. None were made better before it, and there would be many pale imitations after, but her weapon was the first and truest divine defensive armament.

It struck Typhon in chest, moving the gargantuan back by yards, but Typhon was not so easily bested. He grabbed the shield and discarded the metallic disk to the floor of the divine city. With a guttural roar of fury, the divine beast stalked forward, his massive form engulfing Metis in a tangled mass of writhing tentacles.

As the monster lifted the Titaness into the air, his gaze fell upon her. His head tilted. His senses, both unconscious and conscious, were sounding off in a sense of recognition. There was a quality about this divine being that he had familiar experiences with his wife. A faint echo of sympathy flickered across his face, coming from the depths of his primal consciousness.

Typhon’s fury wavered from this unusual kinship stirring within his heart.

In a moment of unexpected mercy, Typhon held Metis down; his massive form pinned her to the ground. “Don’t interfere!” he bellowed powerfully.

Zeus struggled to his feet amidst the rubble-strewn battlefield. His vision was blurred from the rubble that had fallen on him, the golden ichor leaking from his face, and he could have sworn at least one of his eyes was swollen.

The sky above Olympus was overcast by clouds and the shadow of the monster. Zeus wondered why Helios and Selene did not help him in his time of need. Why didn’t any of his siblings show? Where was everybody? Anybody?

Rather than wallow in his self-pity, he looked up to see Typhon looming over Metis. The monstrosity was pinning Zeus’ future wife to the ground. She appeared unnaturally still. Could she be...? No; that would be impossible. They had weathered the Great War together. She had put up with Zeus’ arrogance. She had made it this far with him. She could go a little further with him. She had to. She just had to. They were to be together forever; Hades would never have Metis.

With a roar of fury that emanated from his very soul, Zeus pushed forward. His muscles burned from the effort in his charge. Thinking of all he could lose, from the woman he loved, to his throne, to the dominion, Zeus secretly swore that no one would have Olympus but him.

The task was simple. It was all laid out in front of him. Protect Metis, vanquish the beast, declare his victory, and regale his victory to a returning rapturous audience.

He was Zeus. Son of Cronos and Rhea. He was the Thunderer. He was the Lightning Lord. He was King of Olympus. He was ruler over the cosmos. Only Chaos was his superior.

As he closed the distance between himself and the monster, Zeus felt a surge of power coursing through his body. Holding out his hand, the Master Lightning Bolt returned to him, crackling with raw energy. It would take all he had and maybe a little more, but he summoned all of his power into one final blow. The stormy sky above Olympus roiled with dark clouds and swirled with crackling lightning.

Metis turned to see the daring stand of Zeus. Though she was barely conscious amidst the chaos of battle, Metis marveled as Zeus unleashed the full force of his divine wrath upon Typhon. Unfortunately for her, the air crackled with electricity from the cascading energy of the lightning bolt. What illuminated the battlefield with blinding light also created a cyclone of power. The very air was being stripped from the arena. Metis longed to look, to see the final outcome of the battle, but it was not meant to be. Her portion of the battle with Typhon, fatigue, and some weakness from within her seemed to strip away her ability to even so much as lift her head. That very head dropped slowly, dropping Metis into the unconscious lands of rest.

Zeus felt the power of thunder and lightning running through the veins in his arms. His ichor boiled in his manifestation of his might. He floated in the air as he held generated energy all about him.

For that moment, it seemed as though victory was within their grasp, the echoes of thunder reverberating through the air when Zeus discharged all of that power at Typhon. It struck Typhon in the face, coursing out and attacking every part of his torso and arms. Skin singed instantly as he staggered from the blow.

It was all Zeus had been able to bring to bear. Exhausted and spent, Zeus fell from the heavens, landing on the grounds of his divine city. His feet would not hold him. He could feel his legs shaking from his thighs to his ankles. Within moments, he collapsed to his knees. His chest heaved with ragged breaths; every breath seemed to exact a toll from its master. He barely kept himself from falling forward. Surveying the devastation around him, he could see the beast was unmoving from the assault.

Not so far away, Zeus saw Metis lying unconscious. She was battered and bruised from the ordeal, and he could see that some of the attack had harmed her unintentionally. He tried with all his might to stand, to get to her, but he just could not move. Try as he might, his mind could not will his legs to have the might to support his weight.

As Zeus struggled, he was met with a surprise greater than any he had ever experienced as King of Olympus. Typhon’s monstrous form began to stir once more. The ground beneath Zeus trembled once more as the monster made his way to stand in front Zeus. Typhon loomed over the fallen Thunderer.

In Typhon’s eyes, there was only a furious rage.

He unleashed a deafening bellow that echoed through the shattered ruins of Olympus and through the bones of the weakened god.

“Is that all you can do?” The screamed question was adorned in contemptuous mockery.

Fear claimed Zeus’s heart before the words ever reached his ear. In response, he instinctively summoned his Master Lightning Bolt back to himself in a feeble attempt to defend himself, but it was too late for him, even Zeus knew that.

Typhon wrapped his tentacled tendrils and serpents over Zeus’ body to bind the king, and the monster planted his hands over Zeus’ face. The crackles of voltage emanated through Typhon’s limbs.

With a surge of electricity, Typhon unleashed a devastating shockwave onto the god. Zeus’ very power had been turned upon him in a blinding display of light. The power was only a fraction of what Zeus had brought down on his enemy, but with Zeus drained, and without defense, the attack seared every fiber of the king’s beings with an intensity he had never experienced.

For a moment, and in a desperate attempt to resist that attack, Zeus struggled, but the monstrous appendages ensnared him, preventing any chance of escape.

Like captured hog, Zeus’s body convulsed uncontrollably as his flesh was seared by the blinding blitz. With a final, anguished cry, he collapsed into Typhon’s grasp, defeated.

He fell into unconsciousness, smoke coming off of his charred flesh. The beast showed the king gracious mercy by not allowing the son of Cronos to collapse onto the ground.

The Lightning Lord did not know what lay in his future. He was not even aware that Typhon wrapped Zeus up in two tentacles and lifted him into the air. With one of his hands, Typhon picked up the Master Bolt, and slowly, the monster started to walk away from Mount Olympus.

Though weary from the exertion, Typhon mustered his remaining strength to drag the defeated Zeus down Olympus. He was gracious in victory. He did not want to humiliate his opponent. After being weakened by those pesky flying gods, the shield one, and then Zeus bringing down all that power, Typhon knew he was better than four or five gods, but Zeus was, by far, his strongest opponent.

He would show that some respect to his opponent even if Zeus would not do so for him.to his mountainous abode. Though ... it was the strangest thing, as Typhon walked the lands of Greece, he could feel a surge of something new within him. Typhon set Zeus onto the rugged terrain near the abode that Typhon had shared with Echidna.

Focusing his will inward, Typhon felt a weak charge from Zeus’ bolt jump into him. His body was changing from the monstrous visage he had known all his life into something more akin to the gods of Olympus. With each moment, his flesh became smooth, soft, and gentle. It was not painful. It was actually quite nice, like warm water running over him.

When the sensation ended, he looked over at a lake. His figure resembled Zeus, albeit with a darker countenance.

Typhon’s wings, tendrils, snakes, and fiery eyes were gone. In his place stood a seven-foot-tall figure. His features bore a striking resemblance to his fallen opposition. A thick black beard framed a chiseled jawline while long strands of dark hair rested on his head. His chest had a rugged layer of hair on it to match.

He could feel the world in a way he had never before known. Realizing he was naked, he waved his hands and garments of pristine white and shimmering gold covered his body. The regality of the fallen king had somehow been gifted to Typhon.

If Typhon needed any more signs that what he had done was right, this was it.

The towering mountain peak of his home was in view. Typhon wondered what his wife might think of him even as the unconscious form of Zeus was lying at his feet. The cool mountain air was refreshing on his new form. He wondered what else he could do.

From within their mountain home, there were signs of movement.

Echidna cautiously stepped out into the open. Her serpentine form coiled with apprehension. Her many eyes scanned the surroundings. A god of Olympus had come to strike at her. She thought the worst immediately. Her husband’s corpse laid somewhere on the mountain and Zeus had sent one of his pretty little gods to kill her as well.

When she inspected the figure more closely, he did not seem like a threat. Dampening her initial instincts to attack, she drew closer still. The midday’s sun illuminated the features of the figure. Recognition dawned upon Echidna when she looked deep into the being’s eyes.

“Typhon ... is that you?” Echidna’s voice carried the tinge of disbelief. His form was different. Where his skin had had scales and imperfections, this being was flawless and smooth.

Typhon fully faced her. She was his wife. He would never harm her or do anything to force her to recognize him. She was his pride and joy. He wanted her to see him for who he was all on her own. Having shared all of his life together, there was an intangible element to their affection.

“Yes, my love,” Typhon replied with warm affection. “It is me.”

“But ... This ... How?” she stammered. Slowly, she walked toward him.

“I can’t explain it,” he admitted in a moment of vulnerability. He knew she was scared of him on some level because of his altered appearance, but he could wait. No matter what changes he had undergone, she would see him for who he was. “But I am ever your loving husband.”

Echidna approached him less cautiously. She reached out a trembling scaled hand. He not only allowed the contact; he relished it. Her fingers brushed against his newly formed smooth flesh. Despite the unfamiliarity, she recognized the essence of the man she loved.