Man crawled from the Aegean and gave sacrifices of yearling calves and olive branches to the Gods. They cried out the name Zeus when thunder shook. Poseidon when the Earth cracked it's crust and yearned for the return of Persephone when winter crawled across the fields.
The Gods are real. As real as mortals make them. Through the worship and fear of the humans, we exist. They created us but it is we who rule with the power they have given. Are they pawns, beloved children, or insignificant ants?
This is the pinnacle of Hellene. This Golden Era will one day be the history of Greece. The tales that unbelievers will hear in some distant future have either occurred or are occurring.
And as ever, the plots on Olympus mount. The Gods bicker. The humans quest. Children are born and die. And we, the Olympians, are self-absorbed. Who will rule and who will give the mortals more to tell around their firesides?