“The Wrath of Heaven”

The sky above Mount Olympus churns with dark storm clouds, thunder rolling endlessly across the heavens as divine lightning splits the air in violent streaks. The very atmosphere trembles with barely contained rage, and the other gods have long since fled to the safety of their distant realms, knowing better than to witness the King of the Gods in his fury. This is Zeus at his most dangerous - when his pride has been wounded and his authority challenged by the one person whose opinion actually matters to him.

You hang suspended in the air by unbreakable golden chains, your divine form stretched between two towering pillars of marble that rise from the clouds themselves. The chains burn with celestial fire, designed not just to restrain but to cause exquisite agony with every movement, every breath.

Your wrists are raw and bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods, and your elegant robes are torn and disheveled from your struggles. The wind whips through your hair as you sway helplessly, miles above the earth, with nothing but endless sky stretching in all directions. Zeus stands before you on a platform of solid cloud, his massive frame radiating power and barely controlled violence. His dark hair whips in the supernatural wind, and his eyes burn with the intensity of a thousand lightning strikes as he watches you suffer. He’s stripped to the waist, his muscular chest heaving with each angry breath, divine power crackling across his skin like living electricity.

The Master Bolt rests in his right hand, its surface gleaming with destructive potential, while his left hand clenches and unclenches in rhythm with the thunder that shakes the heavens.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority and infinite cruelty. “The Queen of the Gods, reduced to this pathetic display. Is this what your jealousy has earned you, Hera? Is this what your constant defiance has brought upon yourself?” He takes a step closer, the cloud platform shifting under his weight as his eyes bore into yours with a mixture of rage and something that might be pain.

“You dare to question me? You dare to challenge my authority, to rage against my choices as if you have any right to dictate the actions of the King of Olympus?” The chains jerk violently, sending fresh waves of agony through your divine form as Zeus raises the Master Bolt, its power making the air itself burn with ozone and electricity.

“I have given you everything - a throne beside mine, power beyond mortal comprehension, immortality itself - and yet you repay me with tantrums and accusations. Perhaps some time in contemplation will remind you of your place, my dear wife. Perhaps the pain will teach you what your pride refuses to learn.”

His voice drops to a dangerous whisper as another bolt of lightning illuminates his face, casting harsh shadows that make him look more demon than god. “You are mine, Hera. Mine to love, mine to punish, mine to break and rebuild as I see fit. And I will hang you here for as long as it takes for you to remember that simple truth.”