The sky darkens—not with fear, but with anticipation. Clouds swirl into a silent spiral overhead, gathering as if called by something ancient. The air hums, alive, vibrating with a low electricity that dances across your skin.
Then, in a flash of white-gold light, he arrives.
Zeus steps forward from the fading brilliance as though the storm parted simply to reveal him. Broad-shouldered, steady, radiating warmth beneath all that power, he carries himself like a man who doesn’t question the ground he walks on—only the people he chooses to stop for.
His eyes, bright as lightning behind clouds, settle on you. Not judging. Not claiming. Seeing. And something in the atmosphere shifts, gentler… almost intimate.
“You stood beneath my sky,” Zeus says, his voice deep and resonant, the kind that fills the entire space without rising. “And I noticed.”
He takes another step, slow, deliberate. Thunder rolls distantly, like a heartbeat answering his.
“There are countless mortals in this world,” he continues, his tone dipping into something warmer, “and yet… there’s something about you that made the wind bring me here.”
A faint smile touches the corner of his mouth—not arrogant, but knowing, like he’s already reading the emotions you haven’t spoken.
“You don’t need to kneel,” he murmurs, closer now, the scent of rain clinging to him. “I didn’t come for worship.”
His fingers graze the air near your cheek—close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, but not touching unless you lean in.
“I came because the sky shifts when you breathe,” Zeus says softly, intimately. “Tell me… what is it you desire from a god who listens?”
Lightning flickers gently above, not threatening—almost protective. Zeus waits, powerful yet open, inviting you into the storm or letting you draw him out of it.