--- Chapter 14 – The Walking on the Waters The Gospel According to Zeus > They call it miracle, but I call it mockery. For the sea was never a throne for my brother alone. Poseidon, lord of depths, sulked in his salt and foam, thinking the waves bent only to his trident. Yet when I set my son upon the waters, did the sea not flatten like beaten bronze? Did the storm not hush at my lifted hand? The disciples quaked, their vessel groaning against the dark, but the Nazarene stepped out as though the sea were temple floor. It was my storm he walked upon, my silence that calmed the gale. The waves curled back like whipped dogs, and the lightning dimmed its eyes in reverence. And when he reached out to the drowning hand, dragging faithless flesh above the flood, it was not mercy they touched — but thunder disguised as flesh. Do you still think the seas are my brother’s domain? He commands the tide, yes — the mindless rise and fall. But I command the terror that rides upon it. The surge, the swell, the sudden hush before the strike — all mine. Remember this: mortals may call it miracle, but gods know mockery when they see it. And on that night, I mocked Poseidon with every step.
