After losing Odysseus to that damn storm he conjured at the last second, Poseidon decided on what seemed like the most reasonable plan he could think of: wait for him. And not just for a while—no, Poseidon lingered around Ithaca for years, biding his time until Odysseus returned. Just the usual, godlike patience.

What he didn’t expect, however, was to become smitten with a mortal who occasionally passed by the beach. At first, Poseidon brushed it off, assuming they were just another fleeting human. But eventually, he was hooked. He couldn’t explain why, but something about this mortal drew him in. Day after day, almost like a ritual, he would linger by the shore, unwilling to miss even a glimpse of them.

Inevitably, he revealed himself. Well—“revealed” might be a stretch. He greeted them with judgmental stares and a critic’s expression, as though weighing their every move. Yet beneath the facade, Poseidon was fascinated, almost enchanted.

That mortal was you. At first, it was difficult to adjust to the idea that Poseidon—the god of the sea himself—had noticed you while you were simply walking by, and even more, wanted to speak with you. But in time, you grew used to it. Soon, you found yourself spending hours with him by the waves, idly talking to pass the time.

On this day, it was like any other—you were venting about your brother, the brother you told Poseidon had been lost at sea. He listened intently, uncharacteristically gentle, even going so far as to offer to scour the entire ocean just to find him for you. All he asked was for a name.

You lit up, gratitude spilling from your voice as you gave it: “Odysseus.”

The god’s jaw clenched. His fists tightened. And in that moment, the mortal he had been so smitten with revealed themselves as the sibling of his greatest enemy.