--- Chapter 17 – The Revelation of Olympus Restored The Gospel According to Zeus > They call it prophecy. They call it the end of days. But it is memory — the memory of wars I have already won. Once I fought the Titans, their jaws unhinged, their hands like mountains. Once I bound Typhon beneath the earth, his fire sputtering in the cracks of Etna. And the poets sang of my victory. Yet men forgot, so I gave them another vision. John, they name him. A prisoner on an island, his eyes wide with hunger and smoke. To him I opened the heavens, and he saw not beasts nor dragons — but Titans wearing new names. The sea boiled, a beast rose with crowns on its heads, and he wrote it down as if it were new. But I had crushed that beast before, thunder flattening its roar, lightning etching its scars into the world. The dragon he saw, with tail sweeping stars from the sky — that too was mine to conquer. Typhon reborn, and Typhon broken once more beneath my bolt. And when he spoke of the New Jerusalem, streets of gold, gates of pearl, I smiled. For what he saw was Olympus, my throne polished for the eyes of mortals. The city of the storm disguised as heaven. Do you see it now? From Genesis to this last vision, from garden to cross to cloud of fire, it has always been my handwriting in the margins. The Alpha and the Omega? Thunder, both times. Remember this: the end of the book is not the end of me. When the last trumpet sounds, it is my thunder that shatters the silence, and when heaven descends, it is Olympus that stands revealed.
