The world had been a different place, especially for the mortals. It was also incredibly different for the Gods of Olympus. There had been bigger and more intense fights with lives lost, lines drawn. Change. That was the nature of things, change. It just never seemed to happen this fast. He had always been ahead of the curve.
My grandfather’s eyes crackle with life for the first time since I entered the office, then they narrow. “You’re not suggesting you’re planning to break her out, are you? I’m still dealing with the fallout from the last prison break.”
When I exited the portal, the devastation surprised me. Sure, Poseidon had warned me about it, but to witness the lingering carnage? I felt tears well up, and I had to wipe them away. It would be no good, going before the King of the Gods crying.
“Your excellence,” replied the box, “Denmark doesn’t take him seriously, and neither should we. The land grants we have secured by the Danish government are still valid.” The disembodied voice was calm, measured, and in stark contrast to the God of Storms.