I Am Zeus

The platform accepted them with no fuss.

New figures took up positions on a line beyond the first pair of guards, taller in their dark grey plates, the thin vertical strips of writing shifting as they looked at them more closely. Heavier in the air. The first pair halted at the edge of the platform, one giving a report that consisted only of absences, no transit records, no claims of House or Decree, no authorization before stepping away. The passage sealed behind them.

One of the waiting figures was the one to step forward, its mask the same featureless grey, though there was more weight to its bearing.

"Unlogged cluster of nine," it intoned. "You will remain in marked positions. Response to inquiries will be limited to requested data. Deviations to this protocol will be corrected."

Zeus was apparently unafraid. "We understand the parameters of the arrangement."

They were directed to a broad circular dais of the same grey substance as the transit corridors, the air over it even more constricted and carefully measured to deny sudden movements and burst of power. The lightning crackling up Zeus’s arm slowed to a crawl. Poseidon’s trident grew heavier. The green streaks under Hades’s skin dimmed by another shade.

The questioning began immediately.

"Designation of origin."

"Lower," said Athena. "Recently concluded by external judgement."

"Means of arrival in this layer."

"Extraction," said Zeus. "We did not arrive by transition. We were removed before completion of annihilation."

There was a pause as the markings along the nearest figure’s armor flared briefly in rapid succession.

"Extraction authorization?"

"Unknown."

"Receiving coverage of either House or Decree?"

"None."

The markings flared again, this time one of the other figures turning its head slightly toward the first. There was clearly some process happening inside their systems, one that did not appear to have any particular category for a group of coherent survivors from an ended lower design managing to appear without coverage.

Poseidon exhaled sharply through his nose. "You are asking the same holes in different order. The answers will not improve."

The first figure turned its head toward him. The pressure in the dais increased by about ten percent.

"Inquiries outside the parameters of your authorization are not required."

Sun Wukong lounged against his staff. "You people really know how to make a guest feel appreciated."

Kratos said nothing. Neither did Odin, though he had one eye narrowed in thought. Hermes kept his hands where they could be seen and his posture neutral. Hades simply watched the proceedings with an expression as if they were something happening to someone else entirely.

Loki, positioned at the back of their formation, tilted his head back and gave a slow chuckle. "Charming, efficient, but I do hope the next handoff does not follow quite so closely. Being passed like parcels grows considerably less interesting with every repetition."

There was no laughter from their side, and the armored figures gave no sign of understanding or caring about the remark.

The questioning resumed.

They were asked for their individual designations. Zeus gave his name without qualification, and Athena repeated the pattern. The others followed, to varying degrees of specificity, before being written down as new irregularities. When they were pressed for any coverage of their continued existence beyond their own claims, they were forced to admit there was nothing the higher layers might find useful.

Athena observed carefully during the lulls in the process, taking note of the shifting of the words on the figures’ armor, the ebb and flow of pressure, the way the structures beyond the dais grew more intricate. Everything spoke of a system that functioned on layers, where those beneath had little value beyond being filtered upward.

"You are unable to provide authorizing framework," said the lead figure finally. "Disposition capacity reached. You will be elevated to tertiary review."

Poseidon’s jaw tightened. "Of course we will."

Zeus said nothing as he regarded the first figure. "How many levels does this process have?"

"As many as are required."

A pause. This time the statement was made with no particular hint of sarcasm. It did not need to be.

New doors had opened on the far end of the platform. Three corridors of even denser light waited on the other side, each with a fresh set of armored figures standing in readiness. The pressure difference was even stronger than before. Whatever came next was several levels higher than what they had already endured.

The lead figure raised one hand. "Transfer will occur within current grouping. Maintained order. Additional resistance language will be noted."

Loki’s eyelids lowered. "Noted, not corrected. Progress."

Zeus gave the others a long look. Hold the formation. Nothing more until they saw what came next. The others knew what he meant without him having to say it. Even Hades, for all his distance, adjusted himself to match the general posture of the group.

They were sent on their way once more.

The corridors grew narrower, the current of subdued gold running through the walls faster. Less suppression and more direction, carrying the impressions of distant voices. Fragments of Decrees, Kavod sigils, the vague feeling of greater powers who did not serve as guards. Even heavier pressure on their shoulders. Fewer words were exchanged as the immortals in the group focused on not faltering under the growing weight.

It took much longer than the first transit before they arrived at another platform, this one even larger and evidently several layers higher. The few figures waiting for them wore even more elaborate markings, their postures more self-assured. The air itself seemed to weigh them down, to inspect.

Their current escort came to a halt at the edge and offered another set of terse responses when approached. This time the higher figures gave no reaction save for an increase in pressure, as if they had already taken notice of the peculiar transit process.

Zeus stood at the front of the group, shoulders squared, as he met the gaze of the nearest featureless helm.

They had climbed another step upward.

Beyond this point, past another layer of judgment, there would inevitably be someone with the authority to define exactly what this ’unlogged’ designation truly implied. Someone who would determine if nine lives from an ended lower universe deserved to be preserved.

Until then, they would simply continue walking the long road up.

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