Greek Myth: Zeus Wants Me to Be His/Her (XXXX)?????

The Father of Monsters.

The Hundred-Headed Dragon.

The Demon God.

Among all the monstrosities birthed by Gaia, none were more terrifying or powerful than Typhon, the undisputed enemy of the gods.

His fearsome feats were countless:

He struck down Helios's sun chariot, battered the moon goddess Selene until she lost her luster,

played with the Four Winds as if they were toys,

and dragged Poseidon in his golden chariot straight from the sea's depths.

In some myths, he even killed Zeus, ripped his flesh from his bones, hid the pieces in secret places.

Granted, that was only after Zeus lost his thunderbolt, but it still spoke to the sheer horror Typhon inspired.

But none of that mattered to Eros right now.

What mattered was:

Was it even time for this thing to appear?!

Shouldn't it still be off somewhere, playing in the mud?

Had Zeus's thunderbolt even been stolen yet? Why was this monstrosity showing up now?

This doesn't feel right at all.

Poseidon, slammed to the ground by Typhon, was in a pitiful state, worse than she'd ever imagined.

"My dear grandmother… Sure, I called you petty, but this is…"

She'd known Gaia would seek revenge after she'd mouthed off at her last time.

But she hadn't imagined the retaliation would come in the form of this.

Whose child is this beast anyway? How could it be this fearsome?

Typhon might be a monster, but his lineage was nobler than most gods'.

Born of the primordial Mother Earth, Gaia, and the abyssal Tartarus,

he inherited the traits of both ancient powers.

From Gaia, the power of creation, he sired countless monsters, becoming the Father of Monsters.

From Tartarus, the shelter of darkness and chaos, he moved unseen through earth and shadow,

hidden from even his destined enemies, invisible even to the Fates themselves.

No wonder Poseidon hadn't sensed him lurking beneath the sea.

No wonder Eros's cry for help to Zeus had been cut off. Typhon's arrival had already sealed the area off from the outside world.

Hundreds of flame-spewing beastly eyes stared at Poseidon, the monstrous father seemingly pondering something.

Gaia's order had been simple: punish Poseidon, not destroy her.

A beating was fine, Gaia would cover for that.

But casting Poseidon into Tartarus? That would bring Zeus's fury, and that they didn't need, not yet.

Typhon couldn't risk revealing himself prematurely.

Meanwhile, Eros was quietly trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and this nightmare made flesh.

Please don't notice me. Please just pummel Poseidon and leave.

Eros had thought he was already punching above his weight taking on Poseidon.

But Typhon? This was like the final boss guarding the newbie village's gate.

Even a magnetism freak wouldn't pick a fight between a 10-ton truck and a mosquito.

This was pure suicide.

But as Eros tried to retreat, one of Typhon's heads turned toward him, fixing him with a burning gaze.

No, don't look at me!

Eros forced a sheepish grin.

"Lovely weather today… had anything to eat?"

"You?!"

All of Typhon's heads snapped toward him, roaring as one.

Their eyes blazed, fire licking at the waves, serpentine manes thrashing, venom spraying.

"Hey, hey, no need to be so angry if you haven't had a meal yet! We're not enemies, right?"

Poseidon was a god, always stirring up trouble at sea, seducing and assaulting mortals and monsters alike.

For all Eros knew, maybe she'd messed with Typhon's wife and brought this on herself.

But him? He'd never even met Typhon.

Yet Typhon looked more furious with him than he'd been with Poseidon.

"It's you! It's you!"

Hundreds of heads bellowed, the beast closing in.

"You killed her!"

Typhon could smell it, scents of many gods, many enemies, but one above all:

a faint, fading trace of dark serpentine scent, Python's scent.

Eros had fought Python in its death throes, wrestling it into the sea's depths, and that scent had clung to him.

Python, the serpent that had nursed Typhon as a hatchling, his foster mother.

Typhon was nothing if not a dutiful son. Gaia's orders were law.

But now, this human carried the scent of his mother's death, how could Typhon not rage?

"Die!"

Poisonous flames erupted from Typhon's many mouths, igniting the sea itself.

Eros had already leapt back, every ounce of magnetism surging to evade the searing blaze.

No way in hell I'm fighting this thing.

Poseidon, restored to power, had been a 9-to-1 fight at best.

But Typhon, who'd just blindsided and wrecked Poseidon, this wasn't a difficulty spike. This was a wall.

Fortunately, the flames were broad but not fast, and Eros narrowly dodged.

But it didn't matter, Typhon was charging, all titanic muscle, an apocalypse in motion.

Where he passed, the ocean boiled, the air cracked. His arms seemed poised to tear the heavens.

Like squashing a mosquito with a freight train.

There was nowhere to hide. Eros clenched his teeth, bracing for the collision.

Typhon's blow sent him crashing into a nearby mountain,

the land quaking, peaks shattered, earth trembling as if it would sink beneath the waves.

Forget the Silver Whirlpool's temporary shutdown, at this rate, the river might cease to exist entirely.

"Where the hell did this monster come from?!"

Hera, emerging at a safe distance with Amphitrite, scowled as she watched Typhon's demonic rampage.

She'd only come for a good show. Who won or lost between Poseidon and Eros didn't matter.

But Typhon's sudden appearance had wrecked all her plans.

Beside her, Amphitrite stared in panic at where Eros had vanished.

"Eros…"

OG Author's Note:

There's actually a version of the Python story like this.

And yes, Typhon's origins have all kinds of variations, including the absurd one where Hera birthed him herself.

We'll just blend the versions together for now.

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