The Nameless Heir

New Olympus – The Academy of the Gods

Hera never had children.

Unlike Zeus, Poseidon, and the others, she left no bloodline to rule in her name. But she was still a queen, the mother of Olympus, and the gods would not let her name fade.

So they built New Olympus.

Not a kingdom, not a throne, but something greater—a place where all demigods trained before stepping into the world.

At its heart stood Heraion Academy, a colossal institution towering over the city. Here, bloodline determined everything. A name wasn't just a name. It was power.

The heirs of gods were raised within these halls, trained to master their divine gifts before returning to their kingdoms. The strongest became Holy Knights, rulers of the Twelve Kingdoms. The rest became soldiers, scholars, healers, or strategists.

The weak became nothing.

New Olympus belonged to no kingdom. It was neutral ground, a place of law, learning, and legacy.

But beneath the golden halls, past the statues of gods and floating staircases, another New Olympus existed—one built on shadows, survival, and the forgotten.

And that was where Kael Voss lived.

The slums of New Olympus never slept.

Smoke and sweat thickened the air. Vendors shouted, gamblers argued, and thieves prowled in the alleys, waiting for an easy mark.

Kael wasn't waiting. He had already made his move.

The bag of gold sat snug in his coat, but the half-eaten meat bun in his hand? That was the real prize. The rich always had too much, but food? That was personal.

He took another bite, savoring the taste—just as a shadow loomed behind him.

Too late.

His fingers tightened around his collar lifting him off the ground

Kael twisted, heart pounding, as he came face to face with an angry old man. Not just any old man—a merchant. A wealthy one, judging by the silk robe and jeweled rings. Kael had picked his target carefully, but he had underestimated him.

The man's grip was iron. His hands shook, but they didn't let go. His face twisted in rage.

"Filthy little rat," he spat. "You think you can steal from me?"

Kael already had.

The proof was in his coat. And in his hand.

He took another bite.

Totally worth it.

The street below seemed a long way down. One wrong move, and he'd be part of it.

The merchant's grip tightened. "Any last words, punk?"

Kael swallowed, licking crumbs from his lips. "Yeah—seasoning needs work."

The man's eye twitched.

Then the air changed.

Shadows curled at his feet, stretching, creeping up his legs like ink in water.

Kael's stomach twisted. Not normal shadows.

His.

He hadn't called them. They had moved on their own.

The merchant's grip faltered. His fingers twitched, confusion flickering across his face.

The shadows climbed higher, slipping under his sleeves. His hands trembled. His grip weakened.

One by one, his fingers peeled away.

"No… no, no, NO—"

The last finger slipped.

Kael dropped.

His feet hit the ground. He staggered, breath catching, before instinct kicked in. Run.

Above, the merchant stumbled back, clutching his wrist. His face paled. He had no idea what had just happened.

The shadows faded.

Kael grinned up at him.

The man's face twisted in rage.

"THIEF!" he roared. "SOMEONE CATCH HIM!"

Too late.

Kael bolted.

He barely made it five steps before he saw them.

To his left—Orion Aetos, heir of Zeus. Tall, broad shoulders, golden eyes locked onto him like a predator sizing up prey.

To his right—Selene Ithaca, daughter of Athena. Blonde curls, sharp gaze, smirking like she already knew what he would do next.

Not good.

Kael skidded to a stop. His mind raced. Two against one. No weapons. No plan.

His body moved before he could think.

He turned down an alley.

Lightning cracked past his head.

He ducked. The blast struck the wall ahead, sparks raining down.

He twisted—too slow. Selene's golden rope snapped at his ankle. He barely yanked his foot back in time.

Fast. Too fast.

But Kael was smaller. Quicker. And the slums? They were his.

He vaulted over a crate, slid under a food stall, squeezed through a narrow gap between buildings.

Orion growled behind him. "Seriously? He's like a damn rat!"

Selene didn't sound worried. "Then let's smoke him out."

The air crackled.

Lightning hummed. BOOM.

The ground shook. The alley exit ahead was gone.

Blocked by a crater of blackened stone.

Trapped.

Kael spun, searching—another way out. Another gap. Anything.

Nothing.

Fine.

No more running.

He turned a corner—and let go.

The shadows swallowed him.

Cold. Silent. Still.

No footsteps. No breath. No body.

He didn't run. He didn't hide. He simply wasn't there.

The Holy Knights didn't see him.

But he could hear them.

Orion: "What the hell? Where'd he go?"

Selene: "…Impressive."

Kael grinned.

He wasn't strong. He wasn't a fighter.

But he knew how to disappear.

The shadows carried him beneath the city, slipping through cracks and alleys faster than his feet ever could.

He surfaced on the far side of the slums, breath steady, heartbeat slowing. Safe.

At least, that's what he thought.

He barely took three steps before he froze.

Selene stood at the end of the road.

Arms crossed. Smirking.

"You really thought you could trick me?"

Kael's stomach dropped.

He had traveled through solid darkness. No trail. No sound.

She had predicted exactly where he would come out.

He forced a grin. "You gotta admit, that was a cool trick."

Selene tilted her head. "Not bad. But predictable."

"Predictable?" Kael scoffed. "I just melted into literal darkness. That's gotta be—what—an eight out of ten?"

Selene raised an eyebrow. "Five. Maybe."

"Wow. Harsh."

"Get moving, street rat." She stepped closer.

Kael needed one last trick.

He met her gaze, grinning. "Alright. But before you take me in, can I say something?"

She didn't stop him.

He leaned in slightly.

"You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful, intelligent, stunning girl in the Academy—"

Her whip snapped around his wrist.

Kael flinched. "That might've worked on Orion."

Orion snorted. "No, it wouldn't have."

Selene yanked the rope.

Kael stumbled forward with a sigh. "Well, didn't think so."

Then he noticed something.

The shadows weren't moving.

They sat still. Silent. Watching.

Not him.

Something else.

And a bad feeling crawled up his spine.