The sea had thrown Aether’s storm back at Olympus. Poseidon stood at the water’s edge in his white scale suit, his long black hair soaked against his back. Waves struck the shore hard enough to split stone. Beside him, his student held both hands toward the clouds. Lightning crawled across Aether’s gold bracers. “Stop feeding it,” Poseidon said. Aether did not lower his arms. “I have it contained.” A wall of water rose beyond them. It bent toward the shore. Poseidon gripped his bronze trident. Blue lines shone in its three prongs. “You command the sky. The sea is not your servant. Ask it to settle.” “I do not ask storms for permission.” “That is why you are losing this one.” Aether’s jaw tightened. He thrust one hand upward. The clouds folded into a black funnel. Wind tore spray from the waves. The rising wall of water grew taller. Poseidon drove the trident into the ground. He reached for the tide with the force that once moved every current at his call. Nothing answered. The sea had refused him before. He knew its silence. Still, his chest tightened when the water ignored his trident. Aether saw it. “Your power is gone.” “Not gone. Withheld.” Poseidon pulled the trident free. “Listen. The water is warning you.” Aether laughed once. “It is resisting. I will break the resistance.” He called down a bolt. Lightning struck the sea. The wall collapsed outward, then surged back as three waves. One slammed into the shore. Another ripped a deep channel through the ground. The third raced toward the low halls of Olympus. Aether’s confidence broke at last. He turned after the fleeing water. “I can stop it.” “Then stop commanding.” Poseidon seized Aether’s wrist and forced his raised hand down. “Feel where it wants to go.” For one breath, Aether fought him. Then he went still. The wind dropped first. Aether opened his fingers toward the channel the wave had cut. His voice came low. “Go there.” The storm did not vanish. It shifted. Rain struck the torn ground. Water poured into the channel and raced away from the halls. The last wave passed them and broke against empty rock. Aether fell to one knee. His curled hair dripped over his face. “I saved it.” “You diverted it,” Poseidon said. “That is a beginning.” Behind them, the sea kept heaving. The new channel had become a black river, cutting deeper with every wave. Aether had spared Olympus, but his storm now had a path inland.