After crossing mountains and rivers to reach their destination, the soldiers of Uruk began construction in full swing.
No miracles. No Mystery.
These warriors, once slumbering in the Netherworld's Uruk, simply erected massive machines on the spot—wooden logs fashioned into rolling tracks, stone hauled from afar, timber levers lifting enormous blocks skyward.
One day, the great walls took shape.
Another day, palaces rose within them.
"How incredible…" Hestia murmured beneath the sun, blinking as she examined the towering wall before her.
Though built from countless modest stones, layered one upon another, the structure radiated solidity. The white filler packed between the seams had hardened to a strength no less than the rock itself.
"So this is Uruk's craftsmanship?" The youthful-looking goddess of the hearth tilted her head up, watching the walls stretch into the distance.
To push human technique to its limits—this was something Greece of this era simply did not possess.
That said… why had the Goddess of the Hearth come along as well?
Rovi half-lidded his eyes. He had only intended to bring the goddesses directly tied to him.
"Remarkable indeed." Unlike Hestia's simple admiration, Athena ran her pale hand across the wall, crimson eyes thoughtful. She turned to Rovi. "This method isn't particularly complex, is it?"
"If you want it, I can give it to you anytime." Rovi shrugged. Civilizational knowledge was never meant to be hoarded. And given his closeness with Athena, Uruk and Athens were bound to share a natural affinity. Spreading technology would only benefit both sides.
Athena promptly leaned in and kissed him.
It was brief—barely a touch—but anyone could see she had simply been looking for an excuse.
Hestia: "…"
"Lady Athena!" Atalanta, who had kept silent until now, immediately bristled.
Unfortunately, her patron goddess Artemis had been sent away by En. There was no one to back her up.
Rovi cast a sidelong glance upward.
Atop the high wall, green hair fluttered in the wind. A pale robe billowed, faintly outlining the slender form beneath.
Enkidu had not changed.
And yet, she had.
Her figure seemed more graceful than before, her chest more distinctly curved—though the loose garment concealed most of it.
She gazed out over the gradually forming city.
A similar layout. A similar view.
Though raised upon different soil.
Even so, it stirred memories within the girl who called herself a "broken weapon."
Verdant days of the past flickered through her mind.
"How wonderful… Rovi." Her soft murmur drifted down on the wind.
Rovi smiled in return.
While the goddesses continued their noisy bickering, a soldier of Uruk approached.
"Sage, a man claiming to be Prince Aeneas of Troy has come. He says he wishes to assist in building the city, to repay the favor you once granted Troy."
Had Rovi not intervened, Troy would likely have fallen to the Greek coalition.
It was a debt.
"Aeneas…" Rovi considered the name. It sounded familiar.
Another Greek demigod, perhaps?
"Spread the word," Rovi replied solemnly. "From this day forward, anyone who wishes to join Uruk shall be accepted. Whatever they wish to learn, teach them. Whatever they wish to know, let them know."
He paused before continuing.
"Tell everyone—inside the city and out—that I will establish an academy here."
"It will house countless volumes, a treasury of books. Any who come may read freely."
"Humanities, religion, science, engineering, military systems, governance…"
"No restrictions."
"Yes!" the soldier responded loudly.
In the distance, a young man stood watching the radiant figure surrounded by divine light.
Aeneas had indeed come to repay a debt—but also drawn by the Sage's renown, hoping to learn something of his wisdom.
Hearing the reply from afar, he finally exhaled in relief.
Rovi sought to reshape customs, to resurrect Uruk upon Greek soil—replacing it as if by sleight of heaven, provoking Zeus to the greatest possible extent. Conquest alone would not suffice.
Only assimilation was the optimal path.
"Eh?! You're being that generous?" Hestia suddenly raised her hand. "Then I want to study too!"
"Knowledge?" Athena's eyes brightened.
"Sounds boring." Atalanta clicked her tongue—though she made no move to leave.
En merely watched Rovi with a gentle smile.
She had not changed.
And in truth, neither had he.
...
The Sage built a city upon the earth, and within it established an academy.
It became the first library of the ancient West, its first academy and hall of learning.
It gathered nobles and leaders from the surrounding city-states, granting them wisdom. When they returned home, they applied what they had learned.
The city at the land of sunrise and sunset stood unmoved.
But those who passed through its gates ignited reform across the world.
They called themselves disciples of Rovi, born from the cradle of wisdom.
The second rise of Greek civilization began here. Even Rome's long, resplendent dominion could not erase its towering legacy. A thousand years later, the King of Conquerors, Iskandar II once pointed at the wind-swept ruins of that city and declared to his teacher Aristotle: "How I wish I had been born in that age, to witness the origin of wisdom."
—Origins of Civilization
...
High above the heavens—higher even than Olympus—at the boundary where the mortal world met the Imaginary Number Sea—
Lightning flared and burst. A colossal machine god body loomed like a palace suspended in eternity.
This was Zeus's domain.
That palace-like Machine God was none other than Zeus himself.
Unlike the other gods, who had fully shed their Machine God frames, Zeus—who once unified the divine bodies to battle the White Titan Sefar—still retained his complete, integrated form.
The full might of the unified Twelve Olympians.
But because of that, his persona was less stable than the others'. The mechanical coldness of the frame still clung to him.
To preserve his sense of self, his displayed desires were stronger than any other god's.
The faith he required surpassed even the sum of all the gods combined.
And yet—
"Greece's faith in me has diminished."
A deep, resonant hum echoed across the edge of the void, as light flared through countless streams of data.
God-King Zeus turned his gaze toward the mortal realm, seeking the source of the deviation.
But to truly perceive shifts in faith—
He would have to step personally into human society.
Thus, from the body of the machine god, a beam of light descended toward the earth. Within it, a towering human silhouette gradually took shape.
A pale man emerged upon the land—broad and imposing, hair and beard wild like a lion's mane, his presence overwhelming.
The sky stretched vast above him. The sun was rising.
Zeus's humanoid terminal set foot upon the earth and began walking toward mankind.
It had been long since he had personally walked the mortal world. When he last came to overthrow Cronus, he had descended directly at the entrance to the Abyss of Tartarus.
Perhaps…
It was time to remind humanity that the majesty of the God-King was not to be defied.
---
T/N: THUNDER, BRINGER HER THROUGH THE WRINGERRR
SHOW HER IM THJE JUDGEMENT CALL
THE ONE WHO MAKES HER KINGDOM FALL