[Third Person’s PoV]

Zeus’s eyes flicked between Poseidon and Lucian before settling on the master bolt in his hand. His expression was a storm of barely restrained irritation. “We will not discuss this here, Brother,” he said, his voice rumbling with authority. “Let us save it for another day. In the meantime, I will personally cleanse this bolt of all the human filth it has been tainted with, in the sacred waters of Lemnos.” Rising from his throne, Zeus held the bolt aloft, its divine energy crackling like a caged storm.

As he turned to leave, his gaze softened ever so slightly as it fell upon Percy. “You’ve done me a great service, boy,” Zeus said gruffly. “Few heroes could have accomplished as much.”

Percy straightened, a mix of surprise and pride on his face. “Thank you, sir. But I had help—from Clarisse, Grover, and even—”

Zeus cut him off with a dismissive wave. “To show my gratitude, I shall spare your life. However, do not mistake my leniency for trust. I do not like what your arrival portends for Olympus, Perseus Jackson. But for the sake of family peace, I shall let you live.” His words were sharp, like the snap of a whip, and he raised the bolt once more.

“WAIT, UNCLE!” Lucian’s voice rang out, filled with desperation.

Zeus paused, lowering the bolt slightly, his face darkening. “Speak carefully, boy,” he thundered. “Your casual tone grows tiresome. If you forget your place again, I will defy even the Fates that work so tirelessly to keep you alive. Now, what is it?”

Lucian hesitated, his usual bravado faltering. He pressed his index fingers together and scuffed the floor with his foot, his posture radiating uncharacteristic meekness. He glanced up at Zeus with wide eyes, lips puckered in a sheepish pout. “Um, you see… the thing is… it’s kinda my birthday today…”

Lucian began to sway slightly, his voice softening into an almost childlike whine. “And since I helped return your bolt, I was hoping—just hoping—you might grant me the honor of hearing my most favorite uncle in the whoooole wide world wish me a happy birthday.”

The room froze. Thalia bit her lip, her shoulders trembling as she tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. Poseidon turned away, one hand covering his mouth as his shoulders shook in silent amusement.

Zeus raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, his voice softened. “Oh, it’s your birthday, is it?” he asked, his tone almost fatherly.

Lucian blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

“Well then,” Zeus said with a smile that seemed sincere. “Happy birthday, Lucian.”

The room went silent, everyone staring in shock. Even Lucian seemed frozen. “Uh… thanks—”

“HERE IS YOUR PRESENT, YOU INSOLENT NEPHEW!” Zeus roared, his brief calm shattered like glass. With a snap of his fingers, a bolt of lightning shot toward Lucian, striking him squarely in the chest. Blue arcs of electricity danced across his body as he convulsed, letting out a strangled grunt.

Zeus scoffed, the sound reverberating through the chamber, before disappearing in a flash of light and a deafening crack of thunder.

Lucian collapsed onto the marble floor, smoke rising from his singed clothes. His hands were curled into claws, and his whole body twitched uncontrollably. His head lolled to the side, eyes wide and twitching. Thalia sighed heavily, kneeling beside him to absorb the residual lightning from his body.

“Lucian…” she began, her tone exasperated. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you keep provoking him? You know this always happens.”

Lucian, still sprawled on the ground, groaned. Slowly, he reached into the shadows and pulled out his phone, holding it triumphantly in the air with trembling fingers. He tapped the screen, and Zeus’s voice echoed through the throne room.

“Happy birthday, Lucian.”

Lucian’s face lit up despite the lingering pain. “I GOT IT ON TAPE!” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks—though it was hard to tell if they were from joy or residual pain.

Percy slapped a hand to his face. Poseidon, however, burst out laughing, his booming laughter filling the hall.

Thalia shook her head as she hauled Lucian to his feet, his arm draped over her shoulder for support. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

Lucian grinned through his exhaustion. “Best. Present. Ever.”

“One day, he’s actually going to kill you,” Thalia said with a worried sigh.

“Don’t worry,” Lucian replied, wincing as he shifted his weight. “I know when to draw the line.”

Poseidon, still chuckling, turned to Lucian. “Not that I didn’t enjoy the show, but I need to speak with Percy. Alone. Would you mind giving us the room?”

Lucian’s grin vanished, replaced by a scowl. “We were just leaving,” he said coldly. “Come on, Percy, we’ll wait outside.”

Thalia glanced at Lucian in surprise but followed him toward the doors. Poseidon frowned, clearly taken aback. “Is he mad at me?” he asked Percy, bewildered. “I don’t recall doing anything to offend him.”

Percy scoffed, standing to face his father. “Yeah, and he’s not the only one.”

Poseidon’s expression sobered. “I understand your anger, Percy. Yours is justified. His, I’m not so sure.”

Percy folded his arms, his tone sharp. “Here’s a hint: Lucian considers Medusa his aunt. Now, you tell me why he might not like you.”

Poseidon winced, regret flashing across his face. “I see,” he murmured. “I’m not proud of what I did, Percy. My actions were inexcusable, but that was centuries ago. The man I was then isn’t the man I am now. Divinity… it complicates things. Sometimes, my nature shifts—calm one moment, chaotic the next.”

Percy’s frown deepened. “Just because it happened centuries ago doesn’t mean it doesn’t still affect her. Or the people who care about her.”

Poseidon sighed heavily. “Perseus, I won’t argue this with you.”

“Well, I’m not letting it go,” Percy shot back, his voice rising.

Poseidon’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tone, boy. I am still your father, and as such, I decide when this discussion ends. We will speak of other matters.”

Percy clenched his fists, glaring at his father.

…

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Thalia mused as she sat on the steps leading to the throne room, her chin resting on her palm.

Lucian leaned back lazily, arms stretched behind him, and shrugged. “How should I know? I’m not psychic.”

Thalia’s brows furrowed. “I wasn’t saying you were! I was just curious.”

“Then why ask me something you clearly know I can’t answer? That’s illogical.” He smirked, knowing exactly where this would lead.

Thalia’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “I WASN’T ASKING FOR A FACTUAL BREAKDOWN, LUCIAN! I JUST WANTED YOUR OPINION—”

She was cut off mid-rant when Lucian leaned over and kissed her, silencing her tirade.

Thalia pulled back slightly, staring at him with a deadpan expression. “You just wanted to get me angry, didn’t you?”

Leaning back against the steps with a self-satisfied grin, Lucian winked. “What can I say? You look great when you’re mad at me.”

Thalia scoffed and crossed her arms. “And you look ugly when you’re annoying the hell out of me.”

Lucian chuckled, tilting his head toward her. “And yet, look who’s still dating her ugly duckling.”

“You know when something’s so ugly it’s cute? That’s you,” Thalia shot back, her lips twitching into a teasing smirk. “You’re my cute little ugly duckling, so I tolerate you.”

Lucian gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Wow! Since when have you gotten so good at comebacks? I’m impressed—and a little wounded, honestly.”

Thalia leaned closer, resting her back against his arm, her head finding a spot on his chest. She tilted her face up toward him with a smug grin. “When you’ve had to deal with someone like you for most of your life, you get better at it. Do you know how often I’d think of a perfect comeback a week later and realize it wouldn’t make sense anymore? Do you know how infuriating that is?”

Lucian burst out laughing. “A week, Thalia? You’re admitting it took you a whole week to think of a response?!”

Thalia rolled her eyes, shifting so she could lean into him more comfortably. “I was obviously exaggerating, dummy.” She smirked before leaning up to kiss him again, their playful bickering momentarily forgotten.

The throne room doors creaked open, and Percy stepped through, his expression a mix of irritation and exhaustion. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the two of them. His eyebrows twitched, and his face turned a faint shade of red as he realized they were entirely absorbed in their kiss.

“Ugh, let’s go already,” Percy grumbled as he stormed past them. “You guys are showing way too much PDA.”

Lucian and Thalia reluctantly broke apart, sighing dramatically in unison as they stood.

As they followed Percy, Lucian and Thalia m smirked and called out simultaneously, “You’re just jealous because it’s not you and Clarisse.” The two of them froze, blinking at each other in surprise before breaking into laughter.

Percy’s face turned bright red as he picked up his pace, refusing to dignify their comments with a response.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep