Chapter 20: Retribution

“There’s one thing you should know ... Whatever they are, if they’re in my hand, they’re always the right cards.”

— Raymond “Red” Reddington (as portrayed by James Spader), The Blacklist, Season 10, Episode 2: “The Whaler.” Written by Sean Hennen. Executive story editor: Katie Bockes. Staff writers: Justine Neubarth & Cristina Boada. Directed by Michael Caracciolo. Created by Jon Bokenkamp. Produced by Davis Entertainment and Universal Television. Copyright © 2023 Sony Pictures Television Inc. Originally aired March 5, 2023, on NBC.

Nearly a week had passed since Zeus regained consciousness. Every thought had crossed his mind. He realized how close those nightmares had come to coming to fruition.

If even one of the conspirators had gotten it into their heads to kill him, he would have been doomed. If Hera had not upset Hades, he might have assisted her, and there was no doubt in Zeus’ mind that Hades would have been the death of him in that weakened state. Thankfully, Hera had been too blinded by her anger to recognize that if she had only leaned into Hades, instead of holding his mistake against him in any meaningful way, she would have been free of Zeus.

Thankfully, her pride and love of self came before her goal of removing Zeus from power.

For that, he breathed a sigh of relief for circumstance. Even as he thought about the matter, he faintly recalled that the Fates had told him only a son could remove him. Was this a way for them to smile upon him?

Even as he thought about it, Apollo was his son, and he failed. That did not mean Zeus beat the prophecy, but it did mean that matters would need to be taken into hand if he wanted to be free of their prophecy.

After all, this victory told him that he was meant to be invincible and reign over Olympus forever. He had come close to losing his throne, too close. Typhon was one thing, but that Hera might very nearly remove him. Everything was coming apart.

But ... if it did not unravel, could he solidify his power? Yes! He only needed to position himself to do so through love and fear.

He could not permit any threats from without and within.

The marbled corridors range with the echoing of his pacing footsteps.

“They dared touch me! They dared bind me! I will strip their bones from their bodies and cast them into the pits of Tartarus —”

“Enough,” came the voice of Prometheus.

The word was not shouted nor a whisper. It was a declaration from Prometheus as a way to calm Zeus.

“They did not kill you,” Prometheus said. “They might have, but nothing has been taken from you that you could not reclaim. You already know this. I can see that in your eyes, so why are you performing this ... act?”

“They should have been incapable of such defiance—”

“They were incapable,” Prometheus interrupted. “They failed. You were spared. Their little insurrection was flawed. You were saved by their deficiencies. Their mercy was not their fault, but Apollo and Poseidon turned on one another when they might have united ... because they craved power, and Athena, whatever her motives, unbound you.”

“If you had to guess as to why Athena saved me?” Zeus wondered.

“I would say cold pragmatism, like her mother, but maybe, my friend, Athena simply loved her father and did not want to see you hurt.”

Zeus’ gaze darkened at that answer because it felt plausibly true.

“Then what would you suggest?”

“Mercy, Zeus,” Prometheus continued, voice low but insistent. “Show them what you were shown, but more so because you are king. The Fates or Chaos did not spare you so that you might prove that you could crush them. You have a purpose to play in the grand dance of destiny. If you answer this gift with slaughter, you will prove them right to have bound you in the first place.”

The god of thunder’s chest heaved in frustration. This was not the answer he wanted.

“I will ... think on it,” Zeus muttered. He waved Prometheus away in order to dismiss him.

“Think quickly, my king,” Prometheus warned. “Their secret revolt became somewhat public with Briareus’ return and your battle with Hera. The public is speculating, and they have an expectation of their king.”

“I will,” Zeus said slowly. “Thank you, Prometheus.”

Prometheus bowed and left.

The titan counselor had a point. He almost always did. His foresight and planning in the Great War had made him indispensable. Even after consuming Metis, Prometheus was more helpful than harmful. He always knew what to say, and his course was usually the right one.

Not always for Zeus’ liking, but for the most part.

Mercy when they might have killed him.

No ... That did not sit right, but with the public watching, an open display of mercy might be what was needed while punishing the wrongdoers in private.

He needed to think on the matter further. Then there was Athena. She was a conundrum in this matter. She had freed him, but was it from affection and loyalty or fear of loss. Zeus did not know, but he would find the answer eventually.

The room was as dark as the ocean floor that would never see the light of the sun.

Poseidon stirred, his chains rattling low against the wall. While he had been in and out of consciousness, he could not feel his power returning. He felt heavy from his chest to the ends of his limbs.