Harry adjusted the strap on his forearm, feeling the reassuring weight of Jim in his wand holster. Jim, of course, had spent the morning loudly complaining about how unfair it was that they were leaving K'un-Lun just when he was starting to appreciate the "zen vibes" of the place.
"I was finally achieving inner peace, and now we're jumping through a portal back to a camp full of hormonal demigods who smell like monster bait?" Jim grumbled. "This is an injustice of Shakespearean proportions!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "You spent half our training sessions heckling Lei Kung."
"Because the man has the patience of a saint! He needed a challenge! I was that challenge."
Lei Kung, standing nearby in his golden robes, exhaled through his nose in what was probably supposed to be a sign of wisdom and restraint, but really just looked like the face of a man barely holding it together.
Yu-Ti, arms crossed, eyed Harry like he was deciding whether or not to exile him from K'un-Lun permanently. "You bring chaos wherever you go."
"That's unfair," Harry said, affronted. "I do not bring chaos wherever I go."
Jim snorted. "Buddy, you are chaos. If chaos had a Hogwarts house, you'd be the head boy, professor, and mascot all rolled into one."
Thalia, leaning on her spear, smirked. "Yeah, he's got a point."
Annabeth, adjusting her Yankees cap, shot an unimpressed look at Jim. "For a talking staff, you have a lot of opinions."
Jim gasped dramatically. "Excuse you, princess of strategy, but I am an articulate and enlightened being. Unlike some people, I didn't spend my time here holed up in the library like a—what's the word—oh yeah, nerd."
Hermione gasped. "Excuse you! I was expanding my knowledge of chi manipulation and ancient Eastern magical practices, which some of us find fascinating!"
Annabeth nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Some of us actually appreciate history."
"You mean the ten-hour study sessions where you and Hermione bonded over ancient texts?" Luke, arms crossed, arched a brow. "Because that was terrifying."
Travis and Connor, standing off to the side, exchanged a look before Connor whispered, "It was kind of adorable, though."
"Agreed," Travis muttered.
Silena giggled. "I caught them finishing each other's sentences in Mandarin yesterday. I think they formed a study soul bond."
Beckendorf chuckled. "Annabeth and Hermione, two geniuses against the world. I pity their enemies."
Clarisse, ever the blunt one, snorted. "Yeah, yeah, very cute. Can we get back to the part where we leave before Lei Kung decides we need one more test of strength?"
Lei Kung narrowed his eyes at her. "You are always welcome to stay for more training."
Clarisse's grip tightened on her spear. "Yeah. No. We're leaving now."
Brunhilde, arms crossed, smirked. "I don't know, I'd enjoy watching another round of Clarisse vs. Lei Kung."
Hermes, lounging against a pillar, grinned. "Oh, absolutely. I'd even start taking bets. The odds are looking good."
"Not helping, Dad," Luke muttered.
Loki, standing next to Artemis, cleared his throat. "Well, if we're done with the emotional goodbyes and the unnecessary displays of bravado—"
Jim scoffed. "Unnecessary?! Displays of bravado are the foundation of civilization, my guy."
"—I suppose I can open a portal for our glorious return to Camp Half-Blood," Loki finished, completely ignoring Jim. "Although I do wonder what mischief awaits my dear son back home."
Harry groaned. "Don't jinx it."
Artemis, shaking her head, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Try to stay out of trouble, alright?"
"I always try," Harry said. "It just never works."
Yu-Ti sighed heavily. "This is why I drink."
Loki gave a dramatic wave of his hands, summoning a swirling vortex of green and gold energy in the air. It shimmered like liquid light, crackling with magic. The scent of ozone filled the air, and the portal pulsed, waiting.
Harry took one last look at K'un-Lun, the misty mountains and towering temples, the place that had kicked their butts in training but also given them something valuable. A home, even if only briefly.
"See you around," he said to Lei Kung and Yu-Ti.
Lei Kung nodded. Yu-Ti just muttered, "Please don't."
With that, Harry and his ragtag band of demigods, gods, and one incredibly opinionated magic staff stepped through the portal—back to Camp Half-Blood.
And, knowing their luck, something was already on fire when they got there.
—
The moment Harry and his gang stepped through the portal, they were hit with the usual Camp Half-Blood vibe—pine trees, salty air, and the kind of chaotic energy that made you wonder if the gods had a secret betting pool on how much the campers could mess up in a single day. All around them, kids were practicing their swordplay (some of them had way too much enthusiasm), nymphs were gossiping by the beach, and monsters seemed to be lurking around corners, just waiting to ruin someone's lunch.
"Ah, the sweet smell of impending disaster," Harry muttered, taking it all in.
Clarisse, ever the optimist, elbowed him. "You miss this place, don't you?"
"Miss it? No. But it's... comforting, in a weird, fire-and-monsters kind of way," Harry replied.
"Let's just hope Mr. D isn't—" Thalia started, only to stop dead in her tracks when she spotted the god of wine himself.
On the porch of the Big House, Mr. D—aka Dionysus, god of wine, bad mood enthusiast, and resident grump—was lounging with a Diet Coke (because, as per his punishment from Zeus, he couldn't drink actual wine anymore). He was sitting in a hammock, looking far too content for someone who had absolutely no business looking that relaxed. In his hands, he was playing pinocle with a group of satyrs who were, shockingly, letting him win.
"I am the greatest pinocle player of all time!" Mr. D shouted triumphantly, tossing down a card. "None of you mortal fools can even fathom my genius!"
One satyr—whose name was probably something like "Skidmark" or "Bacon"—grinned and nodded so vigorously it was a miracle his head didn't fall off. "Totally, Mr. D! You're a god at this! No one could beat you, ever!"
Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Is that even fair? They're letting him win."
"Oh, definitely," Thalia said, crossing her arms. "But he doesn't notice, so why ruin the fun?"
Hermione, already tapping her foot impatiently, was about to speak when Mr. D interrupted, raising his glass. "And where do you think you're going, young mortals? You think I'll just ignore you after all the trouble you caused with the whole K'un-Lun mess?"
"Not if I can help it," Harry muttered. But before he could approach, Chiron, the ever-gracious centaur, stepped out from the Big House, stretching like a horse who'd just woken up.
"Ah, the heroes return!" Chiron's voice was warm, filled with genuine curiosity. "And I see you've brought a rather interesting collection of... new powers?"
"Yeah," Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's been a wild couple of days. Don't even get me started."
"We should go over the details inside," Chiron added, gesturing toward the Big House. "But I'd be remiss if I didn't ask: how did it go with Shou-Lao?"
"Well," Harry began, deciding to skip over the more awkward parts of the story, "I defeated Shou-Lao the Undying."
There was a slight pause before Mr. D, looking more intrigued than usual (which was still pretty uninterested by anyone else's standards), raised an eyebrow. "Wait, the Shou-Lao? The dragon? The one with the ridiculous name?"
"Yeah, that's the one," Harry said, trying not to feel too smug. "Fought him, won, got a whole bunch of new powers, and—"
"I'm sorry, did you say powers?" Mr. D interrupted, sounding genuinely shocked for about a second before he sipped from his can of Diet Coke. "What are you, some kind of... hero?"
"Actually," Harry said, holding up a hand, "I also defeated Sun Wukong."
"Oh? Really?" Mr. D raised an eyebrow. "So now you're the Monkey King? What, are you going to start throwing bananas at people?"
"Please don't start with the bananas," Harry groaned. "No, I'm not throwing bananas. That's not even a thing. It's... a title. Like... official royalty stuff."
Thalia, who had been trying to suppress a laugh, snorted. "It's a whole thing, Mr. D. You wouldn't understand."
"I understand that my life was significantly better when I was allowed to drink wine," Mr. D muttered, narrowing his eyes. "But I digress. Monkey King, huh? You got a scepter or something?"
"I have this." Harry held up his wand. It flickered briefly before shifting into the shape of a long, magical staff.
The staff—Harry's newly acquired weapon, Riyu Jingu Bang—glowed a vibrant red as it twirled in Harry's hand. The moment it was fully transformed, the staff's voice rang out, high-pitched and dramatic. "Ah, the world is mine to conquer! I am Riyu Jingu Bang, staff of legend! And I, as the Monkey King's most faithful companion, shall provide infinite wisdom, endless jokes, and the occasional dramatic pose!"
Mr. D blinked. "Are you kidding me?"
Hermione looked at Jim, the staff, and then back at Harry. "Is that really necessary?"
"Oh, it absolutely is," Jim said with a dramatic twirl, now fully showing off his—err—character. "Because how else would the masses know of my legendary status unless I—what? I'm sorry, but look at me. Do I look like a wand?"
"That's the problem," Harry muttered. "He won't shut up. Anyway, I guess he's my new... magical sidekick?"
"Great," Clarisse said, giving Harry an unimpressed look. "Now you have an annoying stick to go along with the annoying attitude."
"Hey! I'm just doing my job here!" Jim yelled, performing an exaggerated cartwheel that left the satyrs on the porch watching in stunned silence.
"Well, that was... entertaining," Chiron said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Though I imagine you could've gone without it."
"I think we've all had enough of the staff," Harry said, letting Jim float lazily in his hand. "I know it's... weird. But now I've got this whole Monkey King thing to juggle, and it's already complicated enough."
"Well, it sounds like you've got your hands full," Chiron said thoughtfully, "But as always, Harry, it seems you're managing the chaos rather well."
"You have no idea," Harry sighed.
Mr. D, clearly done with the conversation, threw down his pinocle cards. "Well, enough of this. I need a nap, or a sandwich, or both. You're all so vibrant today."
"Yeah, yeah," Thalia said, rolling her eyes. "Go ahead and sulk in your Diet Coke while the rest of us try to not become reality TV stars."
As they all made their way inside, Harry couldn't help but think that life at Camp Half-Blood, as chaotic as ever, was about to get a lot weirder. But hey, if you're Harry Potter—Monkey King, demigod, master of chaos—it was just another day in paradise. Or, you know, Camp Half-Blood. Same thing.
—
The group trudged up the hill, toward the mess hall, when Harry spotted the all-too-familiar faces lounging by the Big House. It was like running into the gang at a high school reunion—if your high school was full of demigods, cosmic forces, and occasional talking weapons. Just another Tuesday, really.
First, there was Natasha Romanoff, who was leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, looking like someone who could break your heart and your ribs in the same breath. At eleven years old, Natasha had mastered the art of giving you the impression that she knew things you didn't—things that could probably get you thrown in an international prison.
"Back already?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips, her Russian accent wrapping around the words like a warm blanket of intimidation. "Did you defeat a dragon, or was it just another 'heroic monster' that barely looked menacing?"
"I have actual proof this time," Harry grumbled, reaching for his now-permanent companion—Jim, his staff, which was currently vibrating with excitement as if it was about to jump out of his hands and do a tap dance.
Jim, seizing the opportunity to make a grand entrance, launched himself out of Harry's grip like a circus performer on caffeine. He spun through the air like a golden disco ball in a hurricane, tossing out over-the-top commentary. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself, Riyu Jingu Bang—the legendary staff of the Monkey King himself! I beat dragons in my sleep, folks—literally—and I'm still fabulous. What's up?!"
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if she were holding back a laugh. "That's... a stick. A magical talking stick, yes, but still, a stick."
Jim gasped, clutching his shaft dramatically. "Excuse you! I'm not just a stick, I'm the stick, the legendary weapon of Sun Wukong. I'm a prophet, a warrior, a world-class entertainer—and if you can't appreciate this, maybe you should get your eyes checked." He spun midair, executing a backflip and landing in Harry's hands with the grace of a Broadway dancer.
"Is he always like this?" Natasha asked dryly, a touch of amusement in her tone.
"Unfortunately, yes," Harry sighed, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Jim was impossible, but at least he made life... interesting.
Before Natasha could respond, a voice rang out from behind them, cutting through the banter. "Oh good, Harry is still trying to steal the spotlight."
Turning, Harry saw Yelena Belova standing there, hands tucked in her jacket pockets, looking like a nine-year-old with enough sass to start a revolution. Yelena was always quiet, but when she did speak, it was like a bomb going off.
"You know that stick is a liability, right?" Yelena gave a knowing smirk, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "One good flick, and you'll be in a pond somewhere, looking like a sad, soggy noodle."
Jim gasped in mock horror. "How dare you? You wound me! I am above being a soggy noodle. I am—well, okay, maybe a little bit—but that doesn't mean you can just insult my fabulousness."
Yelena shrugged, barely hiding the grin on her face. "Your funeral."
"Always a pleasure," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, you should've seen what happened in K'un-Lun—"
"Not again," came the voice of Fleur, who was standing with Jasper just a few feet away, waving at them. Fleur had that I'm only here because I've been dragged into this look on her face, but it was hard not to love her. She was always one step away from saying something sarcastic and possibly life-threatening in a thick French accent.
"Are we really talking about dragons and gods again?" Fleur raised an eyebrow, her French accent practically dripping as she gave Harry a knowing look. "How many times do I have to listen to you try to top your last outrageous claim?"
"Dragons?" Harry deadpanned, holding up Jim like a prize. "Sure. Oh, and now I'm the Monkey King."
"Monkey King?" Fleur blinked. "You? Seriously?"
"Yup," Harry said with a smirk. "Defeated Shou-Lao, then Sun Wukong, inherited the title, and the staff to go with it." He gestured to Jim, who, unsurprisingly, was in the middle of doing a split midair.
"I am the legendary staff of the Monkey King!" Jim shouted. "Behold my grace, my charm, my—uh, okay, I lost the plot there for a second."
Fleur crossed her arms and tilted her head, unimpressed. "Of course."
Jasper—who, by the way, had been silently observing the entire conversation with a look on his face like he was judging a particularly poorly-executed magic trick—finally spoke up. "I've heard crazier things. But if you say so, Harry."
Harry was about to respond when Kayla Knowles stepped up beside Jasper, looking like she could use a nap, but still clearly the daughter of Apollo with that same calming, almost-too-cool-for-this-attitude. "Tell me you didn't start a fight with Sun Wukong over his title," she said, her voice almost pleading.
Harry shot her a sheepish grin. "Okay, okay, there may have been a fight... or several. But it ended well, right?"
"Uh-huh," Kayla said, not entirely convinced. "Totally."
Meanwhile, Katie Gardner, the daughter of Demeter, shot him a concerned look. "Wait, wait, wait. You're the Monkey King now? Does this mean you'll start throwing bananas at people? Please say no."
"Oh, God," Annabeth muttered from behind them, her hands on her hips as she walked over. "Don't give him any ideas."
"No, please, not the bananas," Harry groaned, though he couldn't help but smile. "I think I'd rather avoid the wrath of Annabeth the Sanity Keeper if I can help it."
Katie raised her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you're the one who's now the Monkey King. Not my fault you're going all legendary on us."
"Monkey King, eh? That's a new one," Yelena mused. "What's the next level? Are you going to start throwing meteors next?"
"Don't even joke about that," Annabeth warned, looking up at the sky with a touch of panic. "If you start pulling meteors from the sky, we are all doomed."
Jim, overhearing this, couldn't resist. "Ahem, everyone! I'm your humble Monkey King's staff, and I could do more than just meteors! How about... an army of talking frogs?" He paused dramatically, staring at them all. "But you're welcome for not bringing that up yet. Consider it a mercy."
Jean, the Avatar of the Phoenix Force, who had been standing quietly beside Kayla, raised an eyebrow, her fiery hair practically crackling with potential. "Talking frogs? I think I'm going to have nightmares now."
"Please don't," Kayla added, her voice a strange mix of dry humor and a hint of concern.
Harry could only shake his head. "And I thought I was the weird one."
Before anyone could respond, a familiar voice from the back broke through the chaos.
"Seriously, Harry. You've got the entire circus here today, huh?"
Thalia—who had somehow materialized out of nowhere, arms crossed and eyebrow raised—stood there, looking as unimpressed as ever. She surveyed the chaotic group, taking in Jim's acrobatics, Yelena's snark, and Harry's slightly embarrassed grin.
"I'm starting to think I'm the least ridiculous thing in this group," Harry muttered under his breath.
Thalia smirked. "I wouldn't go that far."
Harry shot her a playful glare. "Yeah, yeah. I'm still trying to figure out how to be properly embarrassed by all of this."
"You're not alone," Thalia said with a grin, leaning against the nearby tree.
And just like that, despite the dragons, gods, and Monkey Kings, everything felt... oddly normal. Or as normal as it ever got at Camp Half-Blood.
—
Meanwhile, back at Asgard, Loki (Harry's dad, no less) strutted into the throne room like he owned the place—well, technically, he did help run the whole show at one point, so who's counting? His emerald green cloak billowed behind him, practically daring anyone to challenge him on the dramatic entrance front. Beside him, Brunhilde—the Valkyrie with a scowl that could melt steel—followed, looking far too composed for someone who'd just traveled from Midgard to announce that Harry was now the new Monkey King. Fun times, right?
Inside the throne room, Odin sat on his imposing throne, radiating all the authority of someone who'd conquered worlds and had seen it all. And by all, I mean all. His single, all-seeing eye narrowed in Loki's direction as if he was trying to decide whether to issue a warning or just throw a thunderbolt for fun.
Frigga, Harry's doting grandmother, sat next to him, her kind eyes and soft smile the perfect contrast to the serious godly business taking place. Thor, standing with his usual air of muscular superiority (because that's how Thor always stands), was shooting Loki an exaggerated scowl, clearly in the middle of some sibling rivalry with Apollo over who Harry's favorite uncle really was. Spoiler alert: It's Thor. Always Thor.
Sif and the Warriors Three—Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun—stood off to the side, trying their best to look serious but failing miserably because they were clearly trying to figure out if they were supposed to help or just watch Loki's usual chaos unfold.
Loki flashed a grin as he strolled in, immediately tossing a casual jab at Thor, his voice dripping with mischief. "I trust you haven't been too busy, Thor. Haven't broken anything important recently, have we?"
Thor, flexing a muscle for emphasis, shot back with a mock-offended expression. "No, no, I've been practicing restraint, as always. Wouldn't want to disappoint the family."
Brunhilde, not one for playful banter, stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest like a stone pillar. She gave Thor a look that said don't even think about it before addressing Odin directly. "Allfather, we have news from Midgard," she said, her tone as serious as ever.
Frigga, her gentle smile never wavering, leaned forward slightly. "Is it about Harry?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern. Every time she spoke about Harry, you could practically see the worry lines smoothing out of her face, even if only for a moment.
Loki's grin spread even wider, because he loved this. "Oh, it's about Harry alright," he said with the kind of mischief that made even the gods wary. "I'm sure you'll want to hear this."
Odin, with the kind of patience that only someone who's lived for millennia could muster, fixed his one-eyed gaze on Loki and Brunhilde. "What is it, son?" he asked, voice like a thunderstorm in the making.
Loki paused dramatically, because why wouldn't he? "Well, it seems Harry has—how should I put this—come into his own, in ways we weren't exactly prepared for."
Brunhilde didn't have the luxury of patience. "Harry has inherited the title of the Monkey King," she blurted, crossing her arms and looking every bit the battle-hardened protector she was. "He holds the staff of Sun Wukong and has also now defeated Shou-Lao, the immortal dragon. This power has awakened something in him—something powerful."
There was a beat of stunned silence before Thor, grinning like a child who had just gotten an upgrade to his favorite weapon, raised an eyebrow. "So, let me get this straight. My nephew is now a cosmic monkey?"
Loki rolled his eyes, because honestly, this was not the first time he'd had to explain things to his brother. "It's not just that, Thor," Loki said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Harry now holds the power of the Monkey King. He's becoming something... beyond even us."
Sif, ever the pragmatic one, furrowed her brow and glanced at Odin. "But what does that mean, exactly? Is he in danger?"
Loki's grin faltered slightly, only for a moment. "Not right now, no. But Harry's abilities are growing exponentially. And, let's just say, when you inherit a title like that, the universe takes notice."
Thor leaned back, crossing his arms in delight. "Well, I always knew Harry was special. But this... this is something else." He shot a look at Odin. "What do you think, Father?"
Odin, taking his time as usual (because why rush when you have centuries to think?), finally spoke, his voice low and full of gravitas. "The Monkey King is a title of immense power—one that even gods must respect. But power like this is a double-edged sword. It will test Harry in ways he's not yet prepared for."
Frigga, who had been quietly absorbing the conversation, now spoke up, her voice filled with genuine concern. "You think he's in danger, Odin?"
Loki shook his head. "Not yet. But we need to be ready for whatever's coming. Harry is no longer just a boy. He is... something more. Something that could change the very balance of power in the Nine Realms."
Sif's voice was sharp. "And who will guide him? Who will teach him to control this power?"
Odin's gaze shifted to Brunhilde. "You, Brunhilde. You have trained him. You will be his guide, his protector. If Harry is to bear the mantle of the Monkey King, you must ensure he does not succumb to the darkness that often comes with such power."
Brunhilde, ever the warrior, nodded without hesitation. "I will not fail him, Allfather."
Thor, clearly excited by the chaos that was about to unfold, slapped Loki on the back with a grin. "This will be fun. Harry Lokison, Monkey King of the heavens! Who'd have thought?"
Loki gave his brother a pointed look. "You always did have a talent for understatement."
Odin's gaze softened for a moment as he looked toward Frigga, his expression unreadable. "Harry will need guidance, strength, and above all, wisdom. This title comes with burdens, and burdens that not even the gods can easily bear."
As Odin spoke, his tone became heavy, echoing through the hall like a reminder of the weight that even gods must carry. "We will watch him closely. We will prepare him, for he will need every ally, every lesson, and every ounce of strength he can gather. But it will be up to him to decide whether he can wield this power, or if it will consume him."
Sif, arms crossed, looked at Odin with a mix of determination and worry. "And if he can't control it?"
Odin's eye gleamed with ancient knowledge. "Then we will have to be ready for what comes next."
And so, in the heart of Asgard, as the gods discussed Harry's future, the boy who was now the Monkey King was unknowingly preparing for a battle that would stretch the very limits of his power—and the cosmos itself.
—
The golden light of Olympus gleamed in the distance like it was trying a little too hard to be impressive—seriously, someone on Mount Olympus needed a new lighting designer. Artemis, or as Harry likes to call her "Mom," walked alongside Hermes, who was practically bouncing on his heels like a kid who'd just been handed the world's most exciting action figure. If anyone could make divine speed look like a caffeine overdose, it was Hermes, the god of travelers, messengers, and, apparently, chaos (no surprise there).
Artemis, with her silver bow slung across her back and her eyes narrowed slightly in that "I'm trying to save you all from the inevitable mess we're about to make" way, shot Hermes a look that could've curdled milk. "I still can't believe we're doing this," she muttered, more to herself than to him.
"Relax," Hermes said, grinning wide enough to practically knock over the sky. "It's not like we're announcing that Harry's got a pet hydra or something. He's just the new Monkey King. What's the worst that could happen?"
Artemis pinched the bridge of her nose, not even bothering to entertain that question. "You're one to talk. You don't do responsibility. You are, after all, the god of chaos."
"Hey, chaos is my specialty," Hermes said, completely unapologetic. "It's how I keep things interesting! Anyway, trust me, Harry's a natural. He'll figure it out. How hard could being the Monkey King really be?"
"Well, it's not like I want him to become Loki, Hermes," Artemis said, her voice dipping into that protective, older-sister-who's-seen-the-worst-of-it tone. "I don't want him to get lost in all that power."
"Lost in power?" Hermes raised an eyebrow. "Lady, he's Harry freaking Lokison. If anyone's going to handle it, it's him. Also, did I mention he basically just stole the Monkey King's power after fighting an immortal dragon? That's some serious street cred, Artemis. I think you should be proud."
Artemis gave him an unamused look. "You're a walking disaster, and yet somehow you're convinced everything's going to be fine. Please, tell me more."
"Hey, I'm an optimist! Anyway, we're here." Hermes gestured dramatically as the gates of Olympus loomed ahead of them. The towering marble columns, the glittering skies, and the ancient energy of the place practically pulsed in the air. It was as if the entire city was showing off for their arrival. Artemis rolled her eyes—someone really needed to teach these gods how to tone down the whole "I'm the best and everyone knows it" thing.
As they walked through the gates, the gods were already assembled in their usual spots. Ares was flexing his biceps (because of course he was), Poseidon was glaring at a crack in the floor like it had insulted him, and Hestia was tending the hearth like it was a hobby. Meanwhile, Apollo was leaning back in his chair with that easy grin of his—practically glowing in the golden light like he was always ready for a photoshoot. If there was a god who wasn't afraid of making every situation about himself, it was Apollo.
"Ah, Artemis! Hermes! So good to see you," Apollo said, his voice warm with that "I'm your fun, cool uncle" vibe. The only problem? He was pretty sure that title was already taken by Thor. And oh, Apollo was so not okay with that.
"Uncle Apollo, don't you have a dragon to slay or a haiku to write?" Artemis teased as she moved to sit beside him, though her smile was tight. "And don't try to claim 'coolest uncle' rights yet. Harry's my son."
Apollo puffed out his chest, grinning. "I'm a poet and a god, Artemis. Of course I'm the coolest." He cracked his knuckles with dramatic flair, then added, "Also, I've been working on a haiku about this very moment. I call it 'Ode to the New King.'" He cleared his throat and stood dramatically, hands spread wide.
"The Monkey King rises,
A dragon falls beneath him,
The cosmos holds its breath."
Hermes blinked, completely impressed. "Okay, okay, that was... actually good." He slapped his hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Well done, Apollo. You might have just earned 'cool uncle' status after all."
Artemis, however, wasn't exactly sold. "Yeah, that was a nice poem. Now let's get to the important part." She folded her arms, eyes scanning the room. "You all know why we're here."
The room fell silent. Even Ares stopped flexing for a moment, which was an accomplishment in itself. Athena, with her ever-so-calculated expression, raised an eyebrow.
"So," Athena began, her voice thoughtful, "you're telling us that Harry—your son, Artemis—is now the Monkey King?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Artemis said, her tone matter-of-fact. "He's inherited the powers of Sun Wukong, and those powers are... vast. And even before that, he managed to defeat the immortal dragon Shou-Lao, among other things."
Apollo, ever the optimist, leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. "A kid with the powers of a cosmic monkey god? This is amazing! We have our very own superhero. I'm gonna be the best uncle, I swear."
Ares snorted, rubbing his chin. "A kid from Midgard takes on the mantle of a god, huh? Yeah, that's not strange at all."
Artemis shot him a glare that would've made a mortal burst into flames. "It's not about the strangeness, Ares. It's about making sure he doesn't let it all go to his head."
Hermes, who had been watching this exchange like he was waiting for popcorn to appear, chimed in, "You know, Artemis, maybe you're overthinking this. I mean, have you seen how chill Harry is about all of this? He's got that cool monkey staff, dragon-slaying abilities, and a whole new attitude. He's fine!"
Artemis sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm not worried about his ego. I'm worried about the legacy he's inherited. His father, Loki, was chaos incarnate. And Harry... well, he has the potential to be more powerful than any of us ever imagined."
"I'm the god of chaos!" Hermes said, practically bursting with excitement. "If anyone can handle it, it's Harry. I mean, come on—he's got his own brand of chaos!"
"Yeah, well, if chaos is the new normal," Artemis muttered, "then we're all doomed."
"Well, maybe we should just teach him how to control all that chaos," Athena suggested, her voice cutting through the tension. "It might just save us all from a very messy future."
Artemis glanced at her, then at the rest of the gods, and for a split second, she almost felt... hopeful. Almost.
Apollo snapped his fingers, his expression now one of determination. "Alright, alright. You know what's going to make him the coolest Monkey King ever? A godly training montage. I'll personally lead him in the arts of music, poetry, and impeccable style."
Hermes snorted. "Apollo, you do realize 'coolest Monkey King' is a serious title, right? Not a game of dress-up."
"Oh, I'm well aware," Apollo said, grinning. "But hey, if Harry's going to be the cosmic superhero, he's going to need a cool uncle by his side."
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I thought that title was already claimed by Thor?"
Apollo's expression twisted into a mock pout. "Don't make me fight him for it."
Artemis just shook her head. "This is going to be a mess."
---
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