The world is a giant boomerang.
The sins you committed, the trouble you stirred, will come knocking someday.
At the start of Zeus's reign, the gods were exhausted. Even as he slew gods—each kill erasing a function of the world—he failed to exterminate every rebel or hostile force, his father included, and that planted a massive hidden danger.
Many first-generation gods refused to submit to Zeus, hid in their own domains and played by themselves, swore no fealty; if Zeus's men dared intrude, they beat them senseless.
Those independent fiefdoms were Olympus's internal affliction.
Had Zeus wiped out every dissenter—or every god who refused to bow—before clashing with the Aesir, the Greek world's overall combat power would be far higher.
If he'd done what he did today earlier, then let it cool for ten years or so, letting the surrendered gods acclimate to his rule, the world's stability would be far greater.
Conversely, on Thalos's side: had he not purged the Vanir and left the deep-sea god Ægir in place, the later he went the harder it would have been to integrate new pantheons. If the Vanir had joined as allies instead of vassals, then with every new pantheon subdued, Thalos would have had to split the pie with Njord; in the end he'd face entrenched fiefdoms he couldn't rein in.
In short, without a thorough bloodletting to cleanse the opposition, you can forget about a true one-man court.
As it stands, starting with the Vanir, every incoming pantheon gets a wholesale transfusion, and gods from that world are barred from holding office on their own soil—cutting off the very foundation for becoming local warlords.
That's why Thalos can twist newly-subdued gods into a single rope so quickly.
Unfortunately… the world doesn't grant that many ifs.
Different decisions make different worlds.
As the Greek world grudgingly drew near, some gods in Ginnungagap were already popping champagne.
Odin only had to glance at the Greek world's barrier with god-sight to be delighted.
The barrier hid much, but the "Sky" attribute was the easiest to see.
Uranus is the bona fide Greek sky-god, true, and Zeus also holds "Sky." Whether "Sky" is tainted with chaos is something a god can tell at a glance.
Odin grinned wide. "Hahaha! Wahahaha! That idiot Zeus! He actually—actually played with chaotic power! Hahaha! I'm dying!"
Ah Puch sidled up, the perfect toady. "Your Majesty, this dull servant does not know why you're so amused."
Odin threw an arm around one of the sea-goddesses Thalos had gifted him, kneaded her hard, and laughed louder: "That fool's just playing with the leftovers I played out years ago. My big brother… he's got way too much experience dealing with chaotic giants."
Hearing that, the gods below, who'd been more or less anxious, finally let their hearts drop.
In Asgard's Silver Palace rear hall, Thalos had been watching a few love-and-beauty goddesses dance and sing when he suddenly sensed something and looked to the sky.
Thalos snorted a laugh; though he wanted to keep a straight face, the tiny tell of delight still got caught by the keen-eyed goddesses.
Freyja: "Your Majesty, good news?"
"It is. But I can't be happy too soon."
"Hm?" Athena leaned in, eyeing Thalos with great curiosity.
"Strategically, despise the enemy; tactically, take him seriously. If even I, the God-Emperor, get giddy and careless, the ones below will spin out."
The closer you get to victory, the more careful you must be—no throwing.
That's hard-won from countless bloody lessons.
"Summon the core gods." At Thalos's order, the valkyrie Brynhildr went to pass the word.
Not long after, in the Silver Palace's main hall, the core deities gathered as one.
"We greet Our Emperor!" the gods bowed in unison.
"At ease." Thalos flicked his hand, and a psychic projection of the Greek world appeared over the hall, showing the gods a mass of chaotic miasma.
The difference between Chaos and Order is immense—order versus disorder—so much so that at first everyone half-disbelieved, taking it for a smokescreen.
But there's no such thing as a ten-thousand-square-kilometer chaotic smoke bomb.
The stuff was like a vast livor mortis, spreading unchecked over a Greek world ready for burial.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty!" Enki, god of the sea, stepped out first. "It's not just the pretender Zeus—Poseidon over there is plainly tainted with chaos as well."
No one knows an opponent better than his counterpart.
As a fellow sea-god, Enki could of course see Poseidon had touched the stuff.
Hela arched a brow. "Zeus has two brothers. Hades won't be left out."
"Looks that way." Thor stroked his chin.
Vidar, god of the forest and keeper of the World Tree, chuckled. "So I've got a good shot at first merit this time."
"Hah, lucky you, kid." Thor ribbed his younger brother with playful little punches that still boomed; only the old-line Aesir had giant frames—on an ordinary god, those taps might be fatal.
As Odin said, the old Aesir had ample experience handling Chaos.
Once they learned Zeus's "trump card" was chaotic power, their last traces of worry and tension vanished.
The unknown, indeed, is fear's source.
It's also the sorrow of a shrunken world-size; had the Greek world its old dimensions, the divine power from that much element would have overwhelmed the Aesir.
Through successive wars—seizing elements and forcing Olympus gods to yield—the Aesir had gradually filled their own shortfalls.
Now it was down to execution.
Cold light flickered in Thalos's god-eyes. "Since Zeus craves chaotic power, let's send him a wave."
Vidar, thrilled, bowed. "Yes, Father."
Waiting is boring, most of the time.
Waiting for victory, though, is exhilarating.
Gods are no exception.
At the end of the cosmic current, as the vast oval Greek world burst free into the placid endgame sector, what greeted the Olympians was an Aesir care package.
A small world that was wrong at a glance came barreling straight at the Greek world.
If the Greek world had a will of its own, right now it would be shouting: "Don't come any closer!"
The little world's barrier was nearly transparent; through it you could see a massive convergence of chaotic energy.
The feeling was no different from "watching a big turd hurtling toward your face."
Chaos is the toxin of an ordered world!