Chapter Twenty Seven

## Twenty Seven

With a particular sway to her hips, Hera sauntered into her bed chamber. It was meticulously decorated to her specifications. Those were her purple silk sheets, her choice of headboard for this decade, her purple and gold curtains, and her husband sitting on the corner of the bed. Zeus was strumming on his kithara. He practiced the instrument once or twice a month as of late.

Watching him, Hera leaned against a column between the doorways to her closet and his. As she had just come from an Ambrosia bath, Hera was barefoot and dressed in a loose silk robe—sheet white with a purple and dark blue abstract peacock pattern. She had a flute of Nektar in her hand and took a long sip as she listened to her husband strum his usual warm up before transitioning into an actual melody.

Then, as she recalled the chords, she smiled. It had been some time since she heard her husband sing this particular song. Sipping her Nektar, reinforcing the eldritch forces in her veins with the magical concoction, Hera let her mind wander. Captivated by the song, Hera closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment.

*"O, it is time that you came.*

*Life for you is jus' a game,*

*It's time you and I are one.*

*Come wit' me now, do not run."*

Hera watched the bard from a distance. He was wearing a deerskin loincloth and shod his feet with simple sandals. He also had a threadbare cloak but used it to cushion his backside as he sat on the rock while strumming his kithara. On another rock rested his wide-brimmed straw hat.

*"I'm so tired of chasin' you,*

*Come wit' me now; let's get rude,*

*Don't you run now, don't you hide,*

*Come wit' me, you need a ride."*

Usually, she was not a fan of such bawdy songs, but Hera was curious. So, she leaned against a nearby boulder on the overlook beside that mountain pass. The bard had not yet seen her as he looked over the valley, not paying attention to the trail behind him. However, if he had bothered to look behind him at that moment, he would have seen a beautiful female dressed in Cretan attire, including an elaborate feathered headdress, a colorful layered wrap skirt, an emblematic apron, a corset belt, and a loose tunic that left her breasts exposed as was the Cretan custom.

*"Kick the sandals off your feet,*

*Come wit' me and feel my heat,*

*Listen to me, lose the skirt,*

*Come wit' me, don't be a flirt."*

Though she had been exalted by the Titans, transforming her into an immortal, Hera was not yet a goddess. She was a princess from an island south of the center of the Titans' domain. Though Hera was from a matriarchal society and was in line to inherit her mother's throne, when the Titans demanded Hera be given to them as a sacrifice, the queen did not object. The sacrifice was a test of Hera's diplomatic skills. Two others had failed the test before she had, but only Hera managed to impress the Titan. She had not only won her life but also eternal life in the process.

*"I don't wan' you over there,*

*Come wit' me, let down your hair,*

*We'll have no clothes to impair,*

*Come wit' me, my lover bare."*

Hera had been the fifth champion of the Titans Kronos and Rhea. The previous mortals chosen for this endowment of power had been appointed to become the keeper of the Titans' home, their spymaster, a miracle worker, and a weapon. As for Hera, she was selected to become her masters' diplomat and mouthpiece.

*"Sit down an' rest, do not fret,*

*Come wit' me, I'll make you sweat,*

*"Spread thy legs, let me serve you,*

*Come wit' me, I'll taste your dew."*

As for this bard, he was intended to be the sixth mortal given this gift. But, for her life, Hera had no idea what Rhea had seen in this bard. He was a nice piece of meat to look upon, and his voice was pleasant on the ears. But there had to be more to this singer than that.

*"You gasp an' moan, I don't stop,*

*Come wit' me, ev'ry last drop,*

*In an' out, I go prickin',*

*Come wit' me, let's get sticky!"*

The bard finished with a flourish. When he was met with silence, his head lowered. He sighed and looked at his strings. As he began tuning his instrument, Hera announced her presence with a soft clap. The startled bard nearly dropped his kithara as he spun about.

As Hera approached, she saw the bard's eyes fall to her chest. The mainlanders always looked there first. She did not mind the gaze. Cretans believed that the feminine breast was art, meant to be shared and admired. However, there was also a tactical advantage outside Crete, especially when dealing with mortal men.

"Are you Zoss?" she asked as she stepped up to him.

Still seated on his cloak, the bard finally looked to find her eyes. He had a bewildered look on his face before he finally answered. "It's Zeus, actually," he said with an awkward grin with a tuft of blonde hair on his chin. "Why are your eyes violet?"

Rolling her eyes, Hera let out a long sigh. "Violet is the color of royalty," she said.

"Are you royalty then?" Zeus asked.

"I was," she said with a smirk.

Zeus looked at her curiously. "Have they always been violet?"

"No," she said plainly.

"They're rather beautiful," Zeus asked, scratching his whiskered cheek. "Could I sing you a song?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"You already have," Hera replied with a naughty grin.

The bard blinked. His face went blank. Then he realized what she had meant. With a mix of embarrassment and realization, Zeus flashed a grin. It was both shy but also endearing. Then, with a nervous chuckle, he took a deep breath. "I hadn't realized I'd an audience."

"Where did you hear this song?" Hera asked.

Zeus shook his head. "I composed it myself," he said with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Hera scoffed. She shifted her weight, favoring one leg over the other. Her others folded, tucked beneath her exposed breasts, drawing the bard's eyes to her bosom. "You compose music?"

Zeus leered at the bosom for a beat, but his eyes returned to her gaze. He gave her a simple nod. Then, the bard got to his feet, quickly donned his wheat-colored cloak and straw hat, and flashed her a roguish grin. "I'm not just a pretty face," he said, pulling a knapsack from behind the rock he had been sitting on. With kithara stowed, he was ready for travel in a few more moments.

Hera smiled. "We will see about that," she said, pivoting to return to the trail. "Come now," she said, waving her arm. "The peak is still a ways away for mortal legs."

The bard hastily scrambled to her side. Then, as he matched her gait's pace, she caught him glancing again at her breasts. She did not need her esoteric insight to realize he had already undressed her in his mind a dozen times in their brief conversation. However, as she had perceptions beyond those of mortals, she used them. Potential melodies and song lyrics filled his waves of thought, flooding his mind. She smiled. "You're a romantic."

Zeus blinked and matched his side-gaze to hers as they walked side-by-side on the trail, ascending Mount Othrys. "Pardon?" he asked. He had an odd grin, not understanding her statement fully but still taking it as a compliment.

"You have surprised me," she said. "That is all. I took you for a simple lecher," she said, her eyes focused on the trail.

"You have not met many artists, have you?" asked Zeus, already finding it challenging to keep the pace with the exalted being on this terrain. "We're all romantics."

"On the contrary," she countered, "I have had my likeness made by dozens of the world's finest artists. If you survive, maybe you can know the same privilege."

Zeus chuckled. "I paint with notes and sculpt with words," he said with a hint of chuckle lingering in his tone. "I won't need you to pose for me. I'll have my imagination."

On the matter of his imagination, she caught a glimpse of it again. He again pictured her without her clothes and gave her chest another glance to improve his mental imagery. She then sensed an unasked question on his mind. Sighing, Hera looked at him. "Just ask it already."

Zeus blinked. "Was I that obvious?"

"Egregiously," she quipped.

"Why do you leave your bosom exposed as such?" Zeus asked.

"I'm from Crete," she told him. "Knossos, specifically. It is our custom."

Zeus smiled. "I heard tales that Cretans dressed as such... and I have no problem with it-"

"Why would you?" Hera asked with a chuckle.

Zeus nodded, blushing slightly. "But why? The women on the other islands and the mainlands don't dress like that."

"Because men hold power over them," Hera said. "They blame the women for their inability to control their own impulses, so they are shamed to cover their bosom."

Zeus looked over to Hera, stroking his chin. "Do the men not hold power on Crete?"

Hera smiled. "When we dress like this, we have all the power."

"I should like to visit Crete," Zeus said, nodding. "Perhaps I'll move there. Is there much need for musicians on Crete?"

As the song finished, Hera stepped away from the column, making her presence known. Midstride, Hera noticed her husband's gaze lingering on her hips. Raising her flute to her lips, she took no sip but found it quite helpful to hide her smirk as he set his kithara down.

Setting her gossamer flute on an end table on her side of the bed, Hera sat on the bed. She felt her robe drift off her shoulder. She glanced to her bared shoulder and saw Zeus looking at her with hungry blue eyes. Hera flashed him a grin and then placed her hand on her robe to cover up.

"Leave it," Zeus said with a smile.

Hera raised an eyebrow at her husband. Again, she felt the familiar sensation of his mind picturing her naked. However, his memory of her body was much keener than in the past. Zeus knew the shape and place of every freckle or birthmark. The god could perfectly recall her ears' precise shape and the length of each of her ten toes. His knowledge of her breasts and cunny was even detailed.

"I was thinking of losing it altogether," she said with a naughty smile.

A flurry of movement later, Hera was pinned to the mattress, her wrists above her and restrained by her husband's mighty hands. Her robe was cast off her, wadded up and tossed over the headboard. Her husband's garments were scattered on the bed and floor.

There was sweet pain and a harsh pleasure as the god entered her. She took him in and felt appreciated. For that moment, she felt like the queen she knew she was. She was the goddess with the world's most powerful god inside her. She could do anything at that moment. She could topple nations, condemn millions, and shape the future for centuries with a whisper.

Then there was a knock at the door. Though Hera heard it, she could barely register its meaning as the fierce thrusts of her husband made her mind do silly things. There was another knock, but Hera could only answer with breathless gasps as Zeus could only manage guttural grunts.

The door opened. With Hera's head hanging off the side of her bed, she saw the upside-down Nike standing in the entry foyer connected to their bed chambers. This had not been the first time the Goddess of Victory and sworn member of the Royal Throne Guard had seen the couple in such a manner. It was not likely to be the last. Neither the king, his queen, nor their guardian was fazed by the interruption.

"Your majesties," said Nike. "I apologize for my presence."

Zeus glanced up at Nike and gave her a nod. "What is it?"

"Don't stop," Hera said as she realized her hands her free. Then, to encourage him to do her bidding and to her own satisfaction, Hera grasped her husband's arse and pulled it toward her. "Oh," she moaned as his prick reached a new depth.

"Apollo and Artemis would like a word," Nike said, biting her lip. If Hera had not been otherwise distracted, she might have plumbed the goddess' thoughts. If she had, Hera would not be surprised to find a desire to join the royal couple in their bed. Hera would not have minded it. She would have encouraged it or invited the goddess herself. Zeus always felt the need to satisfy Hera more fully when his queen rewarded him with additional partners in their bed. He did not want to risk Hera accusing him of ignoring him for the other samplings the following day... or century.

"Can you not see we're busy?" Zeus said between grunts.

Nike nodded. "I'll tell them as much," he said, turning on her heel. Then, after the sound of footfalls and the click of the door, she was gone.

Biting her lip, Hera whimpered as Zeus kept thrusting. She could feel a charge of essence building in his lower abdomen. This was the seed of creation. A god or goddess could evoke this at the height of carnal pursuits, offering to fuse their soul to their partner. This heightened the senses of the divine, intensifying the euphoria of their release. If both partners gave into this, their souls would merge for the remainder of intercourse. When the seed was planted, a portion of their fused souls would be invested in the act of conception, creating new divine life.

Hera and Zeus had joined their souls many times before. They had done so for procreation four times before, resulting in their five children. Usually, they did so simply for euphoric enhancement. However, Hera did not feel inclined to let Zeus finish on her chest or risk having to bear a sixth heir into this world. So, she chose not to evoke her creative power. Instead, she was patient enough to let her husband satisfy his prick first, and then she could get her due afterward. Though much talk was about her husband's shaft, Hera had always found his tongue to be the more blessed organ.

As the warmth of the god's shaft filled Hera, growing warm as it had become a conduit for creative forces, Nike appeared again. She was soon followed by Zeus' oldest twin children. Biting her lip, Hera closed her eyes. She recalled this same thing happening thousands of years ago, shortly after their wedding. The twins had already had little regard for Hera's privacy. Hera inferred they felt that as she had intruded on Zeus' relationship with their mother, they had the right to intrude on her.

Zeus bit his lip as he reeled away. He scrambled to the back wall of the room, bare arse pressed against the cold metallic walls of the Haven. Then, with his prick thrumming with essence, Zeus bent down and grabbed Hera's robe, wadding it and holding it over his crotch. "What is this?"

Apollo let out a long sigh. "Sorry, father, but-"

"I insisted," said Artemis, stepping partially in front of her brother. Her eyes glanced to Hera. "This may take a while. You might want to clothe yourself," she told the queen.

Hera rolled on her belly, propping herself on her elbows. "This is my chambers," she reminded the petulant goddess. "I'll do as I please," she said. She could feel the discomfort in the twins' minds. Their exact thoughts were difficult to discern as the two's connection layered their thoughts. However, Hera's keen observations told her plenty. Artemis despised Hera, while Apollo wanted to feck her. Releasing a sigh, Hera rolled once again and repositioned herself, sitting with her bare back against her pillows and headboard. She snatched her flute of Nektar and sipped it. She took another look at Artemis, noticing she was wearing clothing centuries out-of-date. "If you need clothing, feel free to help yourself to my closet, dear. I have plenty."

Apollo bit his lip and looked at his sister. "This might've been a mistake," he said with an awkward frown.

The pale twin sister looked at her brother. Her eyes met his, and she likely sensed his thoughts about Hera. Then, scoffing, she turned away from him and marched into the room. "We cannot find Hermes."

Hera let out a chuckle and scoffed. "He is not in here," she said, giving a cursory glance around the room to be sure.

Dropping his shoulders, Zeus sighed. He looked to Nike to answer for him, though. Nodding at her king's direction, Nike cleared her throat, drawing the room's attention to her. "Hermes absconded with the Royal Carriage earlier this evening."

"He did what?!" asked Hera, sitting up and pulling her legs close to her chest. "Why haven't I been told of this?"

"It did not concern you," said Nike.

"O, grapes," Zeus muttered under his breath.

"It doesn't concern me?!" Hera barked. "It's the Royal Carriage. I am the Queen of the Olympians. How does this not concern me?" she asked as she swung her legs off the bed. She paused to chug the remainder of her flute, draining it of its sweet Nektar. Her back may have been to Nike and the twins, but her eyes were intently locked on her husband.

Artemis shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter what he did. We need to know where he is."

Zeus shrugged. "I have no notion of that."

Hera stood up and snatched her robe from Zeus but did him the courtesy of stepping in front of him as she dramatically unfurled it and wrapped it about her body, allowing him to stand behind her. As she tied her robe around her waist with the silk strip that served as a belt, Zeus placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt his godhood against her backside and became more agitated that his offspring dared deny them the pleasure of climax. "Nor do I. If you require delivery services, go tell Iris that it is my will that she be made available to you... and let me get back to satisfying your father."

Apollo winced and turned away.

Artemis eyed Hera with contempt. "Apollo needs Hermes to inspect a letter. We need to know who wrote it."

"What letter?" asked Zeus before Hera could.

"Brother?" Artemis asked, reaching behind her. A second later, Apollo removed a neatly folded letter from his vest and placed it in Artemis' hand. The twin sister stepped forward and held it for Zeus.

Hera was the one who quickly snatched it. The handwriting looked familiar, but she did not give it a thorough examination, nor did she read much of the content. Instead, her attention had fallen to the signature at the bottom of the letter, which had mainly remained there. "Nyx?" she read aloud, scoffing. "You two are looking for a figment of an overactive imagination. Nyx is a bedtime story for children. Nothing more."

Artemis' quick hands plucked the letter from Hera's grasp. She then shot her gaze past Hera to her father. "Perhaps we should discuss this in your sitting room?" she said, shooting a side-glare to Hera.

Furrowing his brow, Zeus shook his head. "What you need to say to me can be said in front of Hera," he said, then paused. "Unless, is this about...?"

Artemis scoffed and shook her head. "No, this is-"

"What is this other thing?" asked Hera, raising her eyebrow.

"Nothing!" blurted Apollo.

Hera was poised to press the matter, but a muffled scream piqued her interest. Parting her lips, Hera looked to Nike. "Investigate that."

The brunette throne guard gave a nod and then made her exit.

As Apollo's gaze was on Nike's backside and Artemis and Zeus exchanged glances, Hera found her mind drifting to a distant memory.

"From the darkness emerged Nyx. In a time when darkness ran, it was Nyx who gave birth to Aether, Hemera, Moros, Apate, Dolos, Keres, Koalemos, Philotes, Geras, and many other horrific children," said Zeus as his hands panned across the eye line of his captivated children, his tone dramatic and haunting.

The small children sat on the log across the fire from their bearded father, the light of the flames casting flickering orange light and dark shadows over his figure. The sister and brother glanced briefly at each other but returned their eyes to their father, thoroughly captivated by the tale. Hera watched them from behind Zeus, holding a much younger and smaller child to her bared breast.

"Husband?" asked Hera as her newborn daughter suckled on her teat. "Is this the best choice of an after-dinner story? First watch has started, and I had plans to put them to sleep."

"Mother!" scoffed Ares. "Father promised he'd tell us this story."

"Did he?" asked Hera, raising an eyebrow.

"He did!" insisted Eris. "Yesterday, he cursed Apate and when Ares asked him about it-!"

"He promised he'd tell us the story sometime!" finished Ares.

"Ah," said Hera, nodding as she felt an odd discomfort from the babe's suckle. She glanced to her husband for confirmation. She rolled her eyes back to her twin children when she was awarded a skittish smirk and a half-shrug. "'Sometime' does not have to be now."

Eris and Ares both scoffed. "Mother!" they shouted in unison. It was quite a feat to unite the two bickering twins against a common enemy. Hera was almost proud of herself.

Zeus chuckled as he stepped in to play peacemaker. "Your mother is right," he said with a smile.

"No, she's not!" barked Eris, stomping her leg.

"Father!" cried Ares.

The two children had matching red eyes that looked rather sinister in the glow of the fire. It was a sight that could have been disturbing to witness if Hera had not recognized this pair as her children. However, as she knew that despite their current protests, the twins did love their mother dearly, she was undaunted and offered an amused grin to counter their glare. She basked in the glow of their childish ferocity.

Zeus nodded. "No. Your father is a fool," he said. "I should have thought better than to scare you so close to sleep."

Ares scoffed. "I'm not scared," he said, sitting upright on the log. "I'm not scared of anything!"

Rolling her eyes, Eris giggled. "Except Ilithyia's nappy."

Ares glared at his twin as he grabbed her hair. "I'll show you!" he shouted as his other hand made a fist.

"Zeus!" Hera barked, even though her husband was already moving toward their children.

"Ah!" screamed Eris as she leaned forward, dragging her fingers through the dirt and then brought her hand back, slapping her brother across the face, throwing dirt in his eye, and raking her nails across his flesh with the same stroke.

Ares rolled back off the log, landing on his back. His fist opened to cover his wounded face, his hot ichor seeping between his fingers. His other hand's fingers remained caught in his sister's curly brown hair, pulling her off the log with him.

As Eris hit the ground, she screamed and swung her elbow into her brother's chest. Her other hand went to her hair, gripping her brother's wrist and digging her nails into his flesh. "You rotten shit!" she screamed.

"Shut your mouth, bitch!" Ares barked as he scrambled to straddle his twin, still gripping his sister's hair. His ichor-soaked hand went to his sister's throat, singeing the hem of her cloth breast wrap, or *strophium*.

Before any lasting damage could be inflicted upon either child, Zeus' arm swept around Ares' waist and hoisted him up and away from his sister before tossing the boy to the ground on the other side of the log. As Ares scrambled to his feet and charged back, Zeus turned and squared off with the godling.

"She started it!" Ares barked after skidding to a halt, unprepared to engage in violence with his father.

"I started it?" asked Eris, peeking out from behind her father. "I was here first! You started this the moment you had the indecency of being born, you twit!"

The shouting caused Ilithyia to break from her mother's nipple and let out an angry, startled cry. This caused Eris, Ares, and Zeus to cease their screaming and cast their gazes on the mother and babe. In an instant, their expressions all shift to regret.

"I'm sorry," said Ares, hanging his head and averting his eyes.

"Not as sorry as I," said Eris, stepping out from around her father. Then, approaching her brother, she gave him a hug. Her embrace was eagerly reciprocated by her brother.

If it were not for the screaming babe in her ear, Hera would have felt her heart swell at the sight of this reconciliation, but she got to her feet and put her attention toward quelling the angry child. The memory of young Ilithyia's screams changed to the sounds of a muffled scream, bringing Hera back to the present as Nike returned from the corridor.

With the door partially ajar, the throne guard poked her head in. "Uh, you're going to want to get dressed," Nike said before disappearing again.

In response, Artemis and Apollo looked at each other and then bolted from the room, leaving Zeus and Hera alone. As the door closed, Hera turned toward her husband. She took a deep breath. "Are you joining them or-?" she asked as she peeled the robe off her shoulders.

"Quickly," Zeus said, nodding as he grabbed the robe and slid it off her body as he swung her toward the bed.

It did not take long to give Zeus the release he needed. It was, however, a rather anti-climatic climax for both parties. Their sex had ceased to be about mutual pleasure and had become a quick release for Zeus. Hera would have to delay her gratification until later as Zeus spent himself and rolled over, prompting Hera to immediately sit up from bed to clean herself and dress.

"Were you satisfied?" asked Zeus, following her to their bathing chamber.

"No," remarked the goddess, looking over her shoulder with a smile. "But I can hold you down later when this business is resolved," she said with a wink.

Zeus chuckled. "It's a date," he said as he ducked into his closet.

Two minutes later, Zeus and Hera stepped into the corridor, dressed simply. Zeus wore a simple tunic, riding breeches, and simple slippers. Hera, meanwhile, wore a blue silk shift dress and leather strapped cork sandals. They turned to their left upon leaving their residence, and it did not take long to see that whatever the commotion was, it was happening in front of the throne room, in the plaza known as the Threshold.

As the two walked toward the gathering crowd, which included not only Apollo and Artemis, but also Nike, her brother Cratus, Poseidon, and Aristaeus, as well as a dozen nymphs and godlings. It was an eclectic gathering, and it threatened to grow as there were several approaching behind Zeus and Hera, not to mention others that were likely coming from other directions surrounding the Threshold.

Nearing the crowd, Hera noticed a goddess leaning against the Delphian Gate. With pale skin and stark white hair, Hera recognized her as Makaria despite her unusual wardrobe and smeared makeup. Makaria, being the daughter of Hades and a Stygian figure, was an unusual sight in the Haven. More usual was the sight of her face damp with tears and her hands caked in dried ichor.

Breaking away from Zeus, Hera approached the distraught goddess, only to have her forearm grabbed by her husband. "Hera..." Zeus said, motioning his head to the crowd parting upon the realization of the king and queen's presence.

As Hera turned to see what her husband was gesturing toward, she gasped at the sight of a half-naked, ichor-soaked Hades lying still on the Haven floor, with Hestia kneeling beside him, examining his injuries.

"Brother!" Hera screamed as she broke from Zeus' grip and ran to the limp body on the floor. Nearby, Cerberus was sitting at his master's feet. He appeared to be playing sentry over his fallen master, but he made no attempt to bar Hera as she knelt beside Hades, taking his hand in hers. She saw a nasty scab across his knuckles, causing her to gasp in shock. "Adamant?" she asked, noting the black webbing on the god's chest and neck.

Hestia nodded. She was dressed in a buttoned sleeping romper, with no sleeves and short pants. There were some singe marks on her clothing. Judging by the stains around Hades' mouth, droplets of ichor had been sprayed from his coughing. "Heretics," Hestia whispered as she leaned over Hades. She then motioned her head toward Makaria. "Makaria says he was shot. The slug is still inside him."

Hera's eyes went wide. "No."

Hestia nodded. "It needs to be surgically removed," she said with her insightful eyes' gaze on his chest's black and red pulsing scab. "He doesn't have much left in him."

"He needs Nektar!" Hera screamed, looking to the closest godling, sending them scrambling away.

Hestia shook her head. "He's past that," she said with a sigh. "The shock to his system could kill him."

"Ambrosia?" asked Hera, raising an eyebrow.

"He needs Asclepius," said Hestia. "There's not much we can do to help him until that slug is out of him."

"Hera?"

Hera looked to her left at the sound of a raspy whisper. Hades' eyelids fluttered; his lips were moving but barely so. Hera slid on the floor, wiping her dress through a puddle of ichor and slowly causing her shift dress to burn away. She nodded, placing her hip beside Hades' shoulder and leaning over him. "It is me, brother. I'm here," she said, giving his hand a soft squeeze, careful to avoid agitating his injury. Her other hand then stroked his hair.

Hades gave a slight grin at the sound of Hera's voice. "Don't leave me," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Hera shook her head. "Never, brother."

"Nike," Hera heard Zeus saw. "Fetch Asclepius immediately!"

"I already sent a runner," Hestia barked at the king. "He still has not returned from Sparta."

"Damn it," groaned Zeus, stomping.

Poseidon made his way across the crowd. "Brother, I agree that Hades' deft and discreet tactics were the better approach to handle this matter. However, in light of this, perhaps-"

"Not now," Zeus said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"No!" Hera barked, shooting a glare at her husband and the sea god. She nodded. "This requires decisive action."

Poseidon nodded as his gaze met Hera's glare. He shot a glance to Zeus, then back to Hera. "I need one of you to say the words."

Zeus eyed Hera, but she hardly paid any attention to his gaze. Instead, the queen kept her focus on Poseidon. Then, without hesitation, she nodded. "I need the Kraken."

There was a loud gasp among the crowd. The sea god was, among other things, the God of Destruction. In battle, he was a force of nature. When the Olympians needed to remind the mortal populace who was in charge, there was no god more wrathful than Poseidon. The sea god had destroyed entire civilizations in the past, including the mortal homeland of Hera herself.

Responding to the queen's order, Poseidon nodded and stepped away from the king. Then, kneeling briefly beside Hestia, the sea god put his hand on Hades' shoulder. There was a glisten in Poseidon's eye. Hera would never point it out to anyone, but there was a long moment she saw a tear fall down the god's cheek, disappearing into his tangled beard.

"I hope you find yourself well, brother," said Poseidon, the hand gripping Hades' shoulder trembling. "But should this be the last we speak, know that you will be avenged."

Either too weak to open his eyes or simply afraid of the tears that would spill from them, Hades blindly fumbled with his free hand. Eventually, Hestia took his hand and guided it to Poseidon's arm. Hades' gripped his brother's sleeve and nodded. "Pirithous and Theseus..." he whispered, dark blood—not ichor—oozing from the corner of his mouth.

"They did this?" asked Poseidon, his brow furrowed.

Hades nodded as his body jolted from a suppressed cough.

Poseidon nodded, gave Hades' shoulder another squeeze, and then boldly broke away. He pushed his way through the crowd and entered the Athenian Gate. As he turned to take a final glance at Hades, Hera saw the proud sea god wipe tears from both of his cheeks.

Squeezing Hera's hand, Hades rolled his head to face Hera, though his eyes remained closed. His body jolted again, some blood spatter escaping his lips from a partially suppressed cough. "Sister..."

"I'm here," Hera said, leaning closer and not bothering to wipe the blood off her face. "I told you I wasn't going to leave."

Hades gave a grave smirk. "I'm sorry I failed you..."

Hera scoffed and shook her head. "Don't be silly, brother," she attempted a forced giggle but only choked weeping escaped her throat. "You could never fail me," she said, stroking his paler than pale cheek.

Thousands of years ago, following the defeat of most Titans, Hera walked away from the celebrations. While the mood was mixed, with victory and mourning in equal measure, most exiled soon-to-be-gods were in high spirits. Hera was not to be found among the celebrants. Instead, she had slipped away and found herself in a small wooded glade, sitting at the base of a tree and weeping.

Within moments of her first tear shedding and falling from her cheek, Hades appeared from nowhere. He was clean-shaven, dressed in light armor and a dark cloak. His curiosity had got the better, and he had invisibly shadowed Hera to watch her in seclusion. However, at the sight of Hera's breakdown, he had chosen to be a brother rather than a stalker. Making his presence known, he said nothing as he sat beside her, pulled her against his shoulder, and stroked her hair. After weeping into his cloak for some time, Hera withdrew to catch her breath and dab her face with the fabric of Hades' cloak.

"Would you prefer to be alone?" Hades asked in a soft whisper.

Hera shook her head. "Don't leave me."

Hades shook his head. "Never, sister."

Hera trembled and nodded. "I'm so sorry I failed us."

With his arm around her and his hand gripping her shoulder, Hades shook his head. "You did not fail us, sister. We failed you."

Hera took a deep breath. "He needs to die."

Hades nodded. "Our siblings disagree. They think Tartarus is a better punishment."

"What do you think?" Hera asked, tears still welling in her eyes.

Hades shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I think, sister. You want him dead. I side with you. It's not about the politics or what's better for this... pantheon they are proposing. What he did... what they all did..." he paused, biting his lower lip as he looked away, his watery eyes sparkling in the starlight. He gulped and braved another glance at Hera. "Your voice is the only one who gets to make this call, sister."

Sniffing and nodding, Hera buried her face in Hades' cloak.

Hades pulled her tight against him, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. His tears moistened her hair. "O, sister, I wish you would tell the others. Let them know-"

"No!" barked Hera, jolted up and causing Hades to reel back. She shook her head, trembling. "They can't know, brother. They won't understand! They'll... They'll think less of me."

Hades shook his head. "Did I?"

Hera blinked, tears pouring from her eyes. She shook her head. "You're not like them," she said, slowly lifting her eyelids, exposing her bloodshot eyes. "You're better than the others."

Hades shook his head. "No one is better than Hestia."

Hera rolled her eyes and managed a sore chuckle. "Other than Hestia," she said with a nod. "If this world were fair, you would be our king."

"I will be king," he said with a nod. "Poseidon, Zeus, and I all discussed it. We'll each take a domain to rule. We'll all be kings. We'll bring it up tomorrow with the Six, but Poseidon will rule the seas and Atlantis... He'll protect us from foreign threats across the sea. Zeus and you will rule the court and the land."

"And you?" Hera asked, her voice breaking.

"I'll rule the Underworld," he said, flashing a smirk.

"That sounds so dreadful," Hera said, shaking her head. "You deserve better than that, brother."

Hades shook his head. "Trust me, sister, there is beauty there."

Hera scoffed. "I have been to the Underworld, brother," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It is a dreadful place."

Smirking, he relented with a nod. "Fair. It is dreary now but with the right hand to guide it. Infrastructure put in place and a steady hand to lead it, I think it has a lot of potential."

"It needs a woman's touch," Hera said with a smile.

Hades grinned. "You're probably right," he said, looking away and into the distance. His thoughts were not as guarded as he likely intended them to be. Usually, Hera could not read Hades as well as others. He was more careful, but at that moment, Hera had a plain picture of Persephone in the front of his mind.

"I see you have one already picked out," Hera giggled, leaning back against her brother, her hands and arms wrapping around his own arm and pulling it against her bosom as she rested her cheek in the crook of his elbow. "Demeter will never go for it."

Hades let out a long sigh. "You're too nosey."

Hera sighed and nodded. She took a deep breath and realized her brother had cheered her up. "Who followed who into the woods again?"

"Fair," Hades said with a chuckle and nod.

"How many children will you and Persephone have?" Hera asked with another giggle.

Hades groaned and moved his legs as if preparing to leave.

"Hey!" Hera barked.

"What?" retorted Hades.

"You promised you wouldn't leave," Hera said with a grin and a soft giggle.

Hades sighed as he nodded and eased back into the tree. "Right, you are... I was merely shifting my legs."

"Uh-huh," Hera said with a scoff. "And evading my question."

Hades chuckled. He grabbed a handful of fallen leaves from the ground, crinkled them in his fist, and scattered the bits over Hera's head, using his other arm to hold her in place as he did so, ignoring her squeals and laughter. "Let me marry the woman first before we begin our brood!" he exclaimed with a merry chuckle.

With a blow of stray hair and flakes of nature off her face, Hera nodded. "Fine. You raise a good point."

"You think so?" Hades asked with a scoff. "Thank you, sister. How about you? How many more little Daughters of Zeus and Sons of Hera might we expect?"

Hera bit her lip as she now looked into the distance. She fell silent.

"I know you said you came from a small family and always wanted a much larger family," Hades said, not noticing Hera's distancing glance elsewhere. "Maybe twelve?"

Hera shook her head. "I think four are enough."

Sensing the change in her tone, Hades paused. Hera felt his eyes on the back of her head. Then, she felt his fingers stroke her collarbone. He nodded. "Five."

"I should have five?!" Hera scoffed.

Hades shook his head. "No... I was..." he sighed. "I want five children," he said with a whisper, his cheek resting on the back of her head, his lips near her ear.

Hera smiled as she tightened her fingers around his wrist. "Five is a good number," she said, nodding. "Perhaps I'll also have five... and our children can play together."

Hades chuckled. "Four of your children are already grown."

Hera nodded. "Yes, but the great thing about immortality is we're never too old to play. Are we?" she asked before giving Hades a sharp elbow to his side, causing him to wince and double over. Hera then quickly mounted him and began hurling handfuls of leaves, one after the other, upon her prone and grounded brother.

The laughter of the moment faded to memory. As Ilithyia dropped beside her mother, kneeling at her uncle's side and pressing her gloved hands to the black visceral webbing that permeated the god's chest. "Oh, feck, this isn't good!" she barked. "Where is Asclepius?!"

"He's coming," said Hestia.

"It's no use," said Hades, weaker than before. "Take it from me. I'm the God of the Dead..."

Hera could have slapped her brother, but she did not. Instead, she merely stroked his cheek. His complexion was gray as black veins appeared on his neck and cheek. She closed her eyes as tears leaked upon her cheeks. "Brother, you're a fool. Shut up."

With a blood-soaked smile, Hades nodded. "I wish I were a fool. Jests and juggling would probably have kept me alive longer..."

Hera rolled her eyes. "If you were my fool, I would have sentenced you to death ages ago. Your jests are the worst."

There was a low grumble that must have been meant as a chuckle. The god nodded and deliriously rolled his head to its side.

With her hand on his cheek, Hera rolled his head back, only for it to then drift onto its other side. "Feck..." she cursed as her hand lightly slapped Hades' cheek. "Brother! Brother! Stay with me!" When the god did not respond, Hera looked over her shoulder. "Makaria, get over here!"

The goddess scrambled to her feet, pushed through the crowd, and plopped beside Hestia. "What is it, Aunt Hera?"

Hera motioned her head toward the god's other hand. "He needs to be reminded of what he has to live for. He needs to hear your voice, feel your touch."

Makaria nodded as she picked up her father's hand, brought it to her shoulder and squeezed it tight. Then, she leaned over and whispered: "Father?"

"Louder!" barked Hera.

Sniffing, Makaria bit her lip, met her aunt's gaze, and nodded. "Father!" she shouted with intent. "Father, it's Makaria! I need you to stay with me! I'm not allowing you to die!"

There was no response from the god.

"Father!" screamed Makaria. "Don't you dare leave me! Didn't you hear me?" she asked, tears beginning to moisten her face again. "I said I'm not allowing you to die! You can't-"

"That's it!" shouted Ilithyia. "Lift him up."

"What?" asked Apollo.

"Lift him up!" Ilithyia barked.

"Move aside," said Hestia. "Physician's orders," she said, gently pushing Makaria away. Likewise, Ilithyia grabbed her mother by the shoulder and escorted her away from the patient.

Hera did as she was told, but not before leaning close to Hades and whispering. "I'm still here, brother. I'm not leaving you."

Seeing the small Hestia scoop Hades into her tiny arms and raise him off the ground was an odd sight. Granted, it was not uncommon to see Hestia carrying around giant crates or cogs or all manner of devices Hera had no understanding of, but Hades looked like an oversized toy being carried by a small child.

Ilithyia shot a glare that could only have come from her mother, causing the crowd to scatter away. The Goddess of Childbirth then charged forward and threw herself into the massive throne room doors, pushing them aside. As the doors slowly swung open, Ilithyia waved Hestia to follow her.

Hera walked in beside Hestia, but as others came to follow, Zeus shot a look to his throne guard, and they restricted most of the crowd from entering. Apollo and Artemis were admitted as the throne guard did not dare impede any Councilor's access to the throne room.

Ilithyia grabbed Nike and whispered into her ear as the throne guards closed the doors. A second later, Nike stepped into the crowd, plucked Makaria from the crowd, and shoved her into the throne room. The Stygian goddess stumbled into the room, with Zeus there to catch her and walk her in.

As the heavy doors closed behind them, Hestia followed Ilithyia to the center of the room. The Goddess of Midwives stopped near the hearth. "Lay him on the-" Ilithyia went quiet as her hand and fingers waggled in the direction of the raised circular hearth. "That thing."

"The Chartis Kosmos?" asked Hestia with a raised eyebrow.

Ilithyia nodded emphatically.

Stepping up to the action, Artemis looked to her brother and then to Ilithyia. "You're going to endow him?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Ilithiya said, shaking her head. "We're taking a purview out of him."

Hestia laid her brother on the gossamer lens of the hearth as told but shot the medical goddess a concerned look. "You're going to do what?!"

"He's the God of the Dead," Ilithyia said as she stepped to the control panel of the hearth and bit her lip as she assessed it. "He has the power to stop a soul from passing, right?"

"Yes," said Hera. "But he's too weak and-"

"Right," said Ilithyia. "But if we extract it from him and give it to another, then they can save him."

Stepping forward, Zeus pulled off his shirt. "I'll do it."

"No!" said Apollo, shaking his head. "Being endowed is a painful experience... especially a purview that powerful. You already have tremendous power, father. You could be out for days. Allow me the honor to-"

"You just got out of the clinic!" Artemis said, grabbing her brother's sleeve and forcing him to face her and see the reason in her words. "Don't be an idiot, brother."

Hera took a deep breath as she stepped forward. "If we expect them to immediately draw upon the purview's power, whoever does it should already be acclimated to the type of essence that the purview associates," she said, letting her gaze drift to Makaria.

The princess blinked. "You... You want me to be the Goddess of the Dead?" she scoffed and shook her head. "No, there's-" she took a deep breath, letting her shoulders slump. "There's no way I could do it!"

"Why not?" asked Hestia, folding her arms as she suddenly was in support of Ilithyia's plan.

"I have the birthright to suspend death myself," Makaria said. "But something is wrong. I tried to stop it... but I failed. I- I can't do it. I'm an emotional wreck and-"

Hera embraced the hysterical goddess and held her tight. She knew what Makaria was talking about. Makaria's birthright was known as the 'Taste of Death,' and it had allowed her to touch someone and detach their core soul from their body, regardless if they were mortal or divine. During this separation, the body would enter a magical form of stasis that would prevent the body from dying by natural means, including prior injury. However, if Makaria had tried and failed to save her father using this, Hera could only offer one possible solution.

"You haven't failed," Hera said, taking a step back and resting her hands on the goddess' shoulders. "He's the God of the Dead. His mastery of necrotic essence is absolute. Just as Zeus cannot be affected by thunder or lightning, your father cannot be affected by the lesser powers of his purview. Your birthright is an extension of that purview. You cannot save your father while that purview remains inside him, but once it is removed, and you take on that power, you can save your father!"

There was a shimmer of hope in the younger goddess' red eyes as she looked at Hera. Then, with a firm nod, Makaria looked over to Hestia and Ilithyia. "What do I need to do?"

"You've been endowed before, right?" asked Hestia, stepping up to Makaria and unbuttoning her peacoat.

"Yes," said Makaria, nodding. "A few times."

"This one will hit harder," said Hestia. "It's a big purview," she said, peeling the peacoat off Makaria and exposing her ichor-burned clothes. Then, tossing the peacoat aside, Hestia began to strip Makaria completely. "While we extract the purview from your father, you're going to want to head over to the font and drink as much Nektar as you can. You're going to need every drop."

Apollo scrambled to the cupboard below the font and grabbed his own cup. He dipped it into the Nektar pool and ran back, spilling nearly half of it. He handed the chalice to Makaria and allowed her to start drinking as Hestia removed what little clothing she had remaining on her person.

As that was going on, Hera proceeded to the hearth where Hades lay. She took a deep breath to stabilize herself at the shock of seeing her brother so still and vulnerable. Nearly half his chest was black as tar, so riddled with the necrotic webbing. Then, reaching to his hips and unbuckling his belt, Hera began the process of stripping her brother. Partway through, Artemis stepped up to aid Hera. The two goddesses' gazes met at one point. While neither cared much for the other, they were united in their love for Hades.

Hera had tossed the clothing aside when removing it, but now that her brother was bare, she turned her attention away to neatly fold the ichor-charred clothes that remained. She caught his scent off the clothing, causing her to throw a concerned glance in his direction. A familiar hand fell to her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze. Hera looked to her husband and attempted a smile.

"Don't worry," he said, comforting her. "Hades will be fine."

Hera looked to Ilithyia, preparing her patient. Finally, Hera let out a sigh. "Will this work?" Hera asked as she turned into her husband, pressing her bosom to his belly.

Looking at Ilithyia, Zeus nodded. "She knows what she's doing.

Another memory returned to Hera. In the cave shelter, Hera sat against Zeus' chest, his legs spread out on either side of her. She gripped his hands tightly as he bit his lip and tried not to cry out in pain. Hera's legs were also spread open, though with her knees bent. As she breathed rapidly, Hera tried to eject the parasitic being from her body with all her cervical might.

"I see his head!" said Ilithyia, beaming with a smile that only angered Hera further. Did she not understand that her mother was in tremendous pain?

"Pull it out of me!" Hera screamed, digging her nails into her husband's flesh.

Nearby, Eris stood behind Ilithyia, her hands clenched around her brother's elbow, preventing him from fleeing. "Oh, it's an ugly one!" she giggled. "Is it meant to look like that?"

Rolling her eyes, Ilithyia scoffed. "Shut up, Eris. It's beautiful!"

"I don't care what it looks like! I want it out of me!" Hera screamed. "I've been carrying it for nearly a year and I want my life back!" she began to weep. It had been a difficult pregnancy, even more so than when she bore the twins. Compared to this torture, Hera had practically sneezed and popped Ilithyia out, possibly explaining the child's rosy view of this harrowing experience.

Ares dared a peek at his new sibling, only to turn around abruptly, retching.

"Get him out of here!" cried Zeus.

Eris scoffed and released her brother, causing Ares to stumble a few steps before spewing his breakfast behind a large rock. Then, with a giggle, Eris turned away from her spewing brother. "Not so brave, is he?" she said, casting her eyes to her parents.

"Eris!" barked Zeus. "Make yourself useful and go find Hestia!"

Ilithyia scoffed. "Father! I told you, I have this handled! We're almost there."

"Your mother is in pain!" shouted Zeus. "And so am I!" he said as Hera drew ichor from his hands, causing the hot substance to sizzle on the cave floor.

"Fine!" screamed Eris, darting off, giving the bent-over Ares a shove as she exited the cave, prompting him to growl and get up to chase her.

Through gritted teeth, Hera shook her head. "Damn those kids. Why did we want to have any more after suffering them?!"

"Mother!" Ilithyia said, locking eyes with Hera.

Glaring, Hera looked to Ilithyia. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're the exception," she said between, pushing and tearing her husband's hands apart. "I love you very much, Ilithyia... but I'd love you much more if you'd get this fecking thing-"

Ilithyia shook her head. "Mother!"

Huffing and puffing, Hera raised both eyebrows. "What?!"

"One more big push," Ilithyia said with a smile. She nodded. "You can do this," she said, touching Hera's knee and sending a spark of essence through her mother, filling her with a brief overwhelming calm.

With a long sigh, Hera nodded and pushed. Though she was already riding a high of elation, releasing the mass from her birth canal caused her to approach a sense of euphoria. Then, she melted into her husband's arms with a long sigh. Upon seeing the damage to Zeus' mangled hands, Hera sobbed. "I'm so sorry," she wept into her husband's bicep. "I love you..."

Zeus shook his head. "Not as much as I love you."

Ilithyia poked her head up behind Hera's skirt, bringing a chubby baby larger than any Hera had ever seen with her. Pulling back the intact umbilical cord, Ilithyia revealed the child's sex. "I have a baby brother!"

"Great," said Hera with a delirious smile. "I need Nektar..."

Memory drifted back to the present experience as Zeus broke away from Hera to grant access to the purview extraction protocols. It was a safeguard in the Chartis Kosmos, requiring a monarch and some other members of the Council of the Twelve to authorize revoking purviews. After Zeus entered his acknowledgment, Hera stepped forward and did the same. Followed by Apollo, Artemis, and Hestia. Though she was not a member of the Twelve, she was still a member of the Six, which meant she retained honorary status as a member of the Twelve.

In her present state, Hera had no recollection of how many members were needed to revoke the God of the Dead, but she suspected that the presence of both monarchs would carry the required weight. The complex mechanism apparently agreed as it began to whir to life.

"Uh," said Ilithyia as she took a step back. "Here goes nothing," she said, giving the nod to Hestia.

Hestia then hit the button located near the hearth-keeper's seat. The instant the button was pressed, a bright white beam shot out of the gossamer lens of the hearth, shooting upward with the intensity of a Talos lens. Hades' body levitated in the stream of light, his head raised, and his arms spread wide. He almost looked transcendent if not for all the putrid flesh emanating from his wound.

A small ball of red, black, and violet essence began forming before Hades' navel. Then, a stream of motes began pouring from Hades' omphalos, joining the essence's swirling mass. Occasionally, the god's body was tensed up, causing him to spasm as his own veins lit up as the essence that made up his purview was collected and sent through his body's nervous circuitry until it expelled itself from his belly and combined with the collection.

When the color of the light stream changed to a faded blue, Hestia stepped onto the edge of the hearth. Reaching into the light, Hestia grabbed the god by his waist and pulled his weightless, floating mass to the surface of the lens. She then carefully took him into her arms again and walked away, laying him on the floor with a makeshift pillow of Makaria's tattered clothing.

"You're next," Ilithyia said, eyeing Makaria. "Step up."

Nodding, Makaria strolled barefoot up to the hearth and stepped up. Of course, being naked was not essential for the endowment process, but it was much more pleasant with less chance of interference. Hera recalled the early tests on some of the Titans. Their screams were still some of the loudest Hera had ever heard. The Titan Rhea suggested removing the subject's clothing before the Olympians' endowments. Zeus had agreed to be the first to undergo it, becoming the King of the Gods, taking the purview the Olympians had stripped from Kronos and what Kronos had stripped from Ouranos.

Hera had followed Zeus, followed by Poseidon, Demeter, Hades, and Hestia. Therefore the original six exalted champions of Rhea and Kronos had now truly ascended to godhood, in reverse order of their initial exaltation. Mortals would later interpret this as Zeus being the youngest of the siblings but becoming the oldest when the birth order was reversed following his five sibling's rebirths.

Makaria situated herself on the lens, glancing at her father. Then, Makaria turned her focus to the swirling essence directly in front of her. It was floating at the height of her forehead. It crackled with necrotic essence and thrummed with power that caused her flesh to prickle and hair to be blown back as if caught in a stiff wind. As she stopped moving, the beam's power began to affect her, causing her to levitate slowly. The goddess had been through this before and closed her eyes, knowing what came next. Once her navel was at the same level as the mass of essence, the light turned brilliantly white and caused Makaria's head to be thrown back and her arms to spread open wide.

The endowment process was faster than the revocation. Almost instantly, the vortex of necrotic essence was subsumed through the navel. Makaria's body jerked and keeled over as if she had been gut punched before being flung back into her original position as bolts of essence lit up her body's nerves, veins, and musculature.

Then, after a long, arduous process of Makaria's convulsing and screaming, the light turned blue, and once again, Hestia stepped up to claim the body from the light. The beam vanished when the goddess was pulled from the light. The restored lighting of the throne room made it all too visible how taxing the experience had been for the goddess. She was drenched in her own sweat and panting with weak breath. As Hestia helped her to the floor, Makaria nearly collapsed but was stabilized by the hearth goddess.

"Well?" said Zeus, strolling forward. "Can you save him?"

Nodding, Makaria flashed a weak grin. "It's done," she said. "I've locked his soul in place... No Thanatosi will claim his soul, but he needs help soon... or else-" she could not finish her thought as she slumped forward, prompting Hestia to scoop her up and lay beside her father.

Artemis soon knelt beside the fainted goddess, covering her with her cloak. "What does she mean by that?"

It was then that the throne room doors parted. The God of Surgery, escorted by Nike and Cratus on either side, walked into the chamber bewilderedly. "What is going on?"

"Hades was shot," Apollo told his son, stepping aside to give the arriving god a clear line of sight to his patient. "He almost died."

Jogging up to where Hades was laid between the thrones of Hephaestus and Aphrodite, Asclepius shook his head. "I don't understand how he's not dead!"

"He's Hades," Hera said, stepping forward. "That's why."

Asclepius eyed the queen as he adjusted his glasses. Then, he looked back at his patient with a smirk and chuckled. Then, shaking his head, he knelt beside the god and prodded the chest with his fingers. "I've never seen this much adamant poisoning with someone still breathing." The physician god paused, blinked, and then looked to the minor assembly around him. "Uh... He's not breathing," he observed with a nervous grin.

"Makaria has held his soul in place," Hera said. "You can revive him."

Asclepius raised an eyebrow. "How the hell did she do that?" he asked, glancing at the naked goddess on the floor beside her father. "The only person that could do that is-" he cut himself off as he glanced to the Chartis Kosmos and saw vapor still rising from the lens. "Hades isn't the God of the Dead anymore, is he?"

"It's a temporary arrangement," Zeus said, folding his arms.

Ilithyia stepped up behind Asclepius. "You weren't here... so I had to get creative. I can pull babies out of mothers all day long, but digging bullets out of that mess?" she shook her head. "I'll leave that for you."

"You did well," Asclepius said as he stood up and patted the goddess on her shoulder. He then marched toward the side door of the throne room. He pointed to Nike and Cratus. "Bring my patients to the clinic. Put Hades in the surgery room and Makaria in recovery."

The big and burly Cratus groaned. "And where are you going?"

"I need to prep for surgery!" Asclepius barked as he pushed through the door hidden in the mural, leaving the door wide open.

As the giant throne guard turned on his feet, he soon stopped when he found Hera blocking his path, her arms folded and her glare making the massive god suddenly feel much smaller. "My queen?"

"That god is going to save my brother's life," Hera reminded him. "You do not question him. Am I understood?"

Cratus nodded with eyes full of regret.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Hera. "Do what he told you!"

Cratus scrambled around the goddess and grabbed Hades as Nike lifted Makaria into her arms. After a few moments, the throne guards disappeared with the Stygian god and goddess.

There was a tense air in the room, causing Hera to stumble to the edge of the hearth, where she sat and tried to catch her breath. She was soon joined by Hestia, who put her hand on the queen's back and rubbed it. "We should get you dressed," Hestia said, reminding Hera that nearly a quarter of her dress had burned away after she slid through Hades' ichor puddle.

Hera nodded, and she and Hestia disappeared through the other door hidden in the mural, which led to the royal residence. After a quick bath and a change of wardrobe, Hera slipped into a simple green nightgown, something she had likely bought for Demeter but never got around to giving to her sister.

When Hera was ready to return, Hestia excused herself to return to bed. The sisters had a quick embrace before Hestia left the residence through its main entry while Hera retraced her steps to the throne room. As she stepped out of the mural, Hera made her way to the Nektar font. While moving, Hera saw Apollo and Artemis showing Zeus their letter and speaking in whispered conversation near the entrance. Hera paid little attention until she noticed Hebe and Iris were also with them.

Curious, she collected one of her gossamer flutes from the cupboard and filled her glass. Then after sampling her beverage, Hera strolled to the gathered deities. As he noticed Hera's approach, Zeus stepped forward, waving the letter.

"Explain yourself," he said, handing her the letter.

"What do you mean?" Hera asked, sipping her Nektar and eyeing the parchment but not taking possession of it.

Zeus scowled at his wife. "How long have I been married to you?" he asked with a glare of contempt.

Hera blinked. "Is this a trick question?"

"Answer the question," Zeus sneered, rage pouring from his mind in waves.

Locking eyes with her husband as she stepped forward, Hera snarled her lip. "Five thousand, one-hundred, and twenty-one years, dear husband," she said with a sneer of her own.

Zeus nodded. "And in that time, you don't think I've learned to recognize your handwriting?!"

Hera raised her eyebrow and snatched the letter from him. "What?"

Zeus shook his head. "What were you thinking, Hera? Heretics?! What game are you playing?"

Finally able to read the letter, Hera examined the handwriting more closely. It did resemble her handwriting, at least a close facsimile. A very close facsimile. If it was hers, she had no memory of writing this. Scoffing, Hera shook her head. "Zeus, my love, I didn't write-"

Iris turned to leave, her head hung low.

"Iris!" Hera barked. "You've seen my handwriting more than anyone! Tell them this isn't mine!"

Artemis scoffed. "Father, don't let her intimidate Iris. Of course, she'll say anything to protect Hera."

Zeus shot a glare at Artemis as he folded his arms.

Apollo put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "Sister. It is fine. If Iris lies, I'll know..."

Iris let out a long sigh as she nodded. "God of Truth..."

"That's right," Apollo said, folding his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Iris walked back to Hera. "May I see the letter again?" she asked with inquisitive yet apologetic eyes.

Hera happily placed it in the messenger's hand.

The eyes of the goddess darted back and forth as she read the page. Iris took a deep breath and carefully folded the pages. She looked to Zeus as she gave him the letter. Hera felt the thought in the goddess' mind form. She was choosing her words carefully. Hera let out a sigh as Iris spoke. "It looks like her writing."

Flaring her nostrils, Hera glared at Iris, but Zeus soon put himself between the two goddesses, giving Iris a moment to enact a quick escape. "She's wrong," Hera said. "Let her take a second look and-"

"Enough!" screamed Hebe, stomping. "Just admit it, mother!"

Hera slowly shifted her gaze to her daughter. "Excuse me?"

Sighing, Hebe marched forward. "Dionysus already told me that all of creation is abuzz with the rumor that you're working with the heretics."

Hera scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous. I've never worked with any heretics."

Apollo let out a gasp.

Zeus threw his eyes at the other god. "Son?"

Furrowing his brow, Apollo stepped forward and threw an accusatory finger at Hera. "That is a lie!"

"Excuse me?" Hera asked with a scoff.

"Explain yourself, son," Zeus said, shifting his gaze between the god and his wife.

"That was a lie!" Apollo barked, lowering his arm but keeping his glare on Hera. "When she said she had never worked with heretics. I sensed that was a lie."

Hera rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. "Okay, I have worked with heretics in the past-"

There was a loud collective gasp.

Hera shook her head. "Let me explain-"

"Yes," said Artemis, nodding as she stepped up to her brother's side. "Tell me about how you tried to kill my brother. This ought to be a great tale. One for the ages."

Hera narrowed her gaze on the goddess. She shook her head. "I had no part in that!" she said, then shot her eyes to Apollo. "What did your purview tell you about that? Hmm?"

Apollo had a still lip. He blinked, glanced at Artemis, and pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. Then, with flared nostrils, he released a long breath. "That wasn't a lie..."

Rolling her eyes, Artemis shook her head. "I don't believe her. She's got magic meant to cloud minds and-" Artemis protested before turning to her father. "Remember when she made one of your mistresses think she was a cow?!"

Hera scoffed. "That was different. I used my diadem to do that. Look at me. You see how minimally I am dressed? I can't do that sort of thing without-"

"Enough," Zeus groaned. "Even if you did not have anything to do with Apollo's attempted murder, that does not clear you of any involvement with heretics. Did you have anything to do with Hades' injury?"

Hera glared. "How dare you accuse me of such a-"

"Answer the question!" Zeus shouted, his eyes crackling with electric fury.

Biting her lip and quelling her rage, Hera shook her head. She took a deep breath and drank from her flute.

"Speak the words!" Zeus shouted, swatting the flute from Hera's hand and sending it across the long chamber.

Taken back, back stumbled backward and fell to her backside. With a gasp, she shook her head. "I did not shoot Hades! I did know about that! I had no part in its planning! I would never do that to my brother! I would never do anything like that to my family!"

Zeus took a step forward, his chest heaving with angry breath. "What about my so-called 'bastards'?" Zeus asked, glaring at Hera. "We both know that you don't regard them as family... Would you do that to them?"

Hera took a deep breath. She lowered her gaze, first to the floor, then to Apollo's feet. When Hera and Apollo's gazes met, Hera parted her lips with her tongue. "You're not my son," she said before looking to Artemis. "You're not my daughter..." she said before a long pause. "But..."

"But... what?" asked Zeus.

Hera sat up and put her feet beneath her. As she stood tall, she eyed the twins with equal measure. "As much as it can pain me, you are my family... and as little as I show it... I do love you both."

Artemis scoffed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head and folding her arms immediately afterward. But then, the twin sister glanced at her brother and found him having a completely different reaction.

Apollo's lower lip quivered. He took a step forward and shook his head. "Not a lie," he said, looking to Zeus. Then, releasing a long breath, he turned and walked away, heading toward the Nektar font.

Zeus folded his arms as Artemis walked between him and Hera, following her brother. This left the married couple with their youngest child standing with them. "Explain why Apollo detected a lie. And speak plainly. None of your games, or so help me..." he did not finish the threat.

Hera nodded, glancing at Apollo and Artemis engaging in a whispered discussion by the font. "A few years ago, I asked Jason to do me a favor."

"Jason?" asked Hebe. "Oh no..."

Hera knew Jason's reputation. In antiquity on Earth, Jason was one of the more famed heroes associated with the pantheon. However, he had always been a devout hero with Hera's favor. Jason led the Argonauts, a collection of the greatest heroes of his time, on many adventures. He eventually lost Hera's favor, but the two had rekindled it when he served with distinction in the Convergence Wars and declared that his faith in Hera had given him the resolve to see him through to victory.

Since then, in all of his new lives, Jason had been actively recruiting his fellow Argonauts and any other hero willing to join his crew to capture some of their old splendor. They were successful at times, but often they had little luck in their endeavors. Most of the time, these days, he was going from town to town and offering to give his autograph for a nominal fee or pose for a photograph for a higher charge.

Hera was known to throw Jason a bone every century, giving him some obligatory quest to keep him and his Argonauts busy. This had even sent Iris flying to the far reaches of the world to stash some nifty-looking scrap she found in Hephaestus' workshop just so Hera could task Jason with its retrieval.

She did this because the alternative was much worse. Jason had always taken failure hard. When he was not loved by his goddess or the masses, Jason turned to drink and would drink himself to death and ruin in short order. Hera did whatever she could to avoid this. When Jason had a lousy reputation, it reflected poorly on Hera, and thus it also had negative implications for the Olympian Pantheon and the Faith as a whole.

"What kind of favor?" asked Zeus, raising an eyebrow.

Biting her lip, Hera did not appreciate being made to confess this. Finally, knowing what would await her if she did not cooperate, she relented. "I told him it was for the good of the Faith if he and the Argonauts staged some... uh... thefts."

"Thefts?" asked Hebe.

Zeus let out a long sigh. "The theft of adamant and orichalcum from the temples..." he said, glancing at Hebe as he shook his head.

"Mother!" exclaimed Hebe.

"Why would you do that?" Zeus asked, furrowing his brow.

Why would Hera do that? She had to wonder that herself. It was not something she was proud of, but...

Hera did not want to be there. She felt she was betraying her husband, brothers, sisters, and children. She sat on the rock, nervously tapping her foot. She folded her arms and looked at the sun. It was nearly night; sunset had all but finished. "She's not coming," she said with a long sigh. "That bitch! She swore she'd be here, but-" she could not finish the thought, instead simply groaning in frustration.

Ares folded his arms. He wore an adamant breastplate with red polish and a matching war skirt. On his back were a sword and shield. He wore no helmet, having lost it in an earlier skirmish. "I hear something."

"I hear it, too," said Hephaestus, Hera's younger but much larger son. He was a head and shoulders taller than Ares, who was already reasonably tall. "Someone is coming..."

Hera raised her eyebrow. Suddenly, she heard it, too. Even more than that, she felt it. The mother looked at the dirt of the mountain top. The pebbles would bounce and roll. Whatever was approaching shook the ground with their footsteps. "This isn't Rhea," she said.

"Who is it then?" asked Hephaestus.

Leaping from some distance away, the Titan Kronos landed between the brothers. The massive being made Hephaestus seem small, even though he was not quite upright after his impressive jump and the resulting landing that split the earth. As he stood up, he was near twice the height of Hera.

Kronos, the Titanic patron that had given Hera her initial exaltation, was in many ways a father and mentor to Hera. At least, that was something he often liked to remind her. But, in truth, he was a wicked creature ruled by fear and intimidation—both things that came easy to him, considering his monstrous appearance.

The Titan was an abomination created from corpses, with a jet black skull for a head. His hands and feet were also black, ending in claws. The rest of his body was a dark blue, with glowing orange veins of chthonic ichor. The Titan's chest was a black rippled mass of muscle many mistook for a breastplate as it seemed bolted to other parts of his armored accessories. However, Hera knew that was his actual chest, only it could be removed to expose the Titan's putrid organs. This was a byproduct of Gaia and Ouranos' creation of him, an experiment in the dark science of necromancy. Like all Titans, Kronos had a heartstone, only his was styled to resemble an orichalcum skull fixed in the middle of his chest.

Before Hera could say anything, Ares drew his weapon and charged into the battle. Kronos knocked him aside with hardly a wave of his arm. Hephaestus picked up his axe and swung at Kronos' back, but the Titan had expected that. With a quick sidestep and spin, the Titan evaded the attack and launched Hephaestus away with a powerful kick, causing the large son to bounce off a rock and disappear off the edge of the mountain they had chosen for their meeting.

"No!" Hera screamed. This was not how this was meant to be. She had contacted Rhea in secret. Both of them wanted this war to be over. They thought that by meeting, they could come to some agreement that each could broker with their husbands. Kronos must have discovered Rhea's intentions and took it upon himself to attend this meeting.

Ares charged back in, back on his feet, but without his shield. The brave son of Hera jumped into the air, landed on Kronos' shoulders, and sunk his sword deep into Kronos' neck. The Titan's ichor melted the blade inside him, leaving Ares nothing to stabilize himself as the Titan reeled in pain. Hera's son tumbled backward and fell flat on his back, hitting his head on a rock.

Hera's eyes went wide as Kronos recovered and saw the stunned warrior. Chuckling as he approached the downed Ares, Kronos raised his massive foot. His wicked sunken eyes looked at Hera. Though it was physically impossible for a creature without lips, she could have sworn he somehow smiled at her. "Children are such awful creatures," he said as his foot smashed down.

Hera screamed as she saw Ares smashed under the Titan's foot, pushing her son into a crater roughly the shape of his body. "You monster!" she screamed as she ran forward.

"I'm the monster?" Kronos scoffed as he grabbed his surrogate daughter. "You betrayed me!"

Hera shook her head. "No... You betrayed me!" she exclaimed.

Shaking his head, Kronos threw Hera back to where she had been sitting, causing her to hit the rock with such force that the rock shattered, and Hera felt a distinct snap at the base of her spine. Scrambling, she tried to get to her feet with a weak gasp, but her legs did not respond.

Kronos approached Hera. His glowing gaze fixated on her as he stood over her, delighting in her pain. The Titan chuckled as he squatted over the crippled Hera. "You should be thankful," he said as he reached down and grabbed her by the hair. "I'm going to relieve you of the burden of children... and then we can be a family again. Isn't that, right, daughter?" he asked as he dragged her to where she could see Ares lay.

Whimpering, Hera met her son's gaze. "Get up," she told him with tears streaming from her eyes. "Save yourself!"

Ares gritted his teeth and willed himself to his feet. Then, looking at his mother, he shook his head and pulled a knife from his belt. "Sorry, mother... Warriors don't flee. They fight to the bitter end!"

Standing over the warrior's mother, Kronos let out a loud, bellowing laugh. "He's a feisty one, this flawed thing you have spawned... I'll give him that."

Ares screamed and charged in. His knife slashed the Titan's wrist, spraying hot ichor on the ground. As the Titan tried to grab Ares, the son of Hera proved to be well-trained. He ducked and rolled, skidded and vaulted, and often struck with a quick counter-attack, leaving the Titan with a few minor cuts. But Kronos grew bored of Ares' antics. Channeling his powers of time itself, Kronos gave himself increased reflexes, and then he effortlessly grabbed Ares by the wrist and snapped his arm, breaking it in two and causing the bone to protrude from the skin.

Screaming, Ares dropped to his knees as his broken arm's hand began to tremble, its grip on the dagger loosening.

"It seems you're singing a different tune, now," Kronos chuckled in delight at the sound of Ares' cries of pain. "Did your father teach you to sing?" Kronos asked, glancing over to Hera. "You let your brother feck you? With his pathetic prick?"

With a furrowed brow, Ares' channeled his rage. As Ares screams turned to mad laughter, neither Hera nor Kronos knew what to make of it. "I wonder how well you sing," he said as his lips flashed a wicked grin. Then, suddenly, Ares released the dagger. The blade fell toward the ground, where Ares' other arm caught it by the hilt and then, with a vicious thrust, the blade disappeared beneath the Titan's war skirt.

Kronos unleashed an unholy roar as he stumbled backward and fell to the ground. The dagger in Ares' hand turned to molten metal as it was covered in ichor. Lying on the ground in front of Ares, where Kronos once stood, was the Titan's rotten and vile severed prick.

Laughing, Ares tossed his destroyed blade aside as he got to his feet, his right arm hanging limply at his side. "Who has the pathetic prick now?" Ares asked as he stepped forward, raised his foot, and smashed the organ, casting putrid ichor across the mountaintop battlefield.

"Ares..." Hera whimpered. "Leave!"

Ares shook his head as he marched forward. "Sorry, mother... I'm not done," he said as he scrambled up, mounting the Titan's chest. Ares began to savagely punch his one good fist directly into the skull-shaped heartstone, smashing it into the Titan's chest and releasing motes of necrotic, temporal, and all manner of other essences with each strike. Ares' own hand cracked and sprayed ichor with each blow, becoming a contorted, mangled mass.

When Ares ran out of breath, he dropped to his knees, straddling the heartstone he managed to crater into Kronos' chest. Then, with a weak chuckle, Ares looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with his mother. "Are you proud of me, mother?"

Hera whimpered and nodded. "Yes... I'm so proud... You're so brave..." she said, though she genuinely wanted to tell him what an idiot he was. He could not win this battle.

The Titan sat up, and Ares fell to his back. Then the Titan's foot stomped down, pinning Ares to the ground. As he leaned forward, Kronos cast unnatural eyes on his clawed hand. "You're far too pretty for such a brave warrior. Allow me to help you, boy..."

"Stop it!" Hera shouted as she heard her son's flesh rend from the first slash. Her son's screams drowned out her cry. "Kronos! Stop it!" she cried again, her eyes pouring tears. "Don't do this! Just kill him! At least do me that mercy!"

Kronos glared at Hera as he slashed Ares' face again. The second slash had nearly plucked Ares' left eye from his face, leaving him half-blind. Then, with hot ichor dripping from his clawed middle finger, Kronos nodded. "Very well, daughter," he said as he lifted his foot off Ares' chest and put its shadow over Ares' head. "With this, I prove my love for you!" he shouted and slammed the foot down.

Appearing out of nowhere, Hephaestus blocked the blow with his back with a groan, straddling his broken brother. His teeth were gritted as he braced himself against the ground with all four limbs. Once the force from the tremendous blow was spent, Hephaestus then pushed up and threw the Titan on his back. "Save mother," Hephaestus said to his brother as he stood upright. "I'll buy you both time," he said, pounding his fist into his palm.

"No!" screamed Hera. "Hephaestus! Grab your brother and go!"

As Hephaestus turned to look at his mother, his eyebrow raised, he hesitated. Torn between doing what he felt was noble and being the dutiful son, Hera's youngest son froze at the worst moment.

Kronos was already back on his feet. His massive kick obliterated Hephaestus' knee. Then, as Hephaestus fell to the ground, the Titan began to pummel the larger son. Hephaestus proved his mettle, taking each blow and refusing to be felled.

Ares staggered to his feet. There was nothing he could do with a shattered hand and a useless arm. Hera's brave warrior stumbled toward his mother and collapsed in front of her. "Mother, I need a patch up," he said, his left eye slit open and his jaw swollen. "Quickly, please," he mumbled. "Hephaestus needs-"

Closing her eyes, Hera grabbed her son's hand and channeled her maternal endowment, giving her power over fertility. She could not mend injuries, but she could give him enough vitality to grant him a second wind. However, once the effect occurred, Hera grabbed her son by his breastplate and looked into her eyes. Her violet eyes gaze into his red eyes. "Forgive me, son," she said as she shot psychic essence into her son's mind, rewriting the pathways and compelling her into subservience. Once the effect had taken hold, she gave him his command. "Rescue your brother, abandon me to my father, and return to home."

Despite the compulsion, Ares trembled. A tear drained from his eye. His muscles tensed as he tried to resist the urge. "Mother... Don't..."

Hera took a deep breath, refocused her essence, and reinforced her command. "Save Hephaestus and run! Do not look back! Family above all, Ares! Listen to me!"

The command hit Ares like a punch from the Titan, causing him to stumbled backward. When he recovered, his gaze shot to his brother, who was somehow still kneeling despite missing any semblance of a knee in his right leg. Ares took a deep breath and ran forward.

Looking at his brother's charge, Hephaestus threw his hand up and struck Kronos in the chin, causing him to turn his head long enough for Ares to grab Hephaestus and roll under the Titan's legs. Then, as he bounded back to his feet, he threw his heavier brother over his shoulders and tore down the mountainside, disappearing from Hera's sight.

Kronos let out a ferocious roar as he began to pursue.

"Father..." Hera said, though the word burned her tongue.

Looking over his shoulder, Kronos looked at his broken daughter and slowly turned the rest of his body toward her. "What?"

"Let them go..." she said, locking eyes with him. "You have me."

Why would Hera do that? She had to wonder that herself. It was not something she was proud of, but...

"I failed our sons!" Hera screamed. "I'm responsible for Hephaestus being a crippled god!" Hera screamed. "I destroyed Ares' mind, too!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Hebe raised her eyebrow. "What does this have to do with Hephaestus and Ares?"

Hera took a deep breath. "Hephaestus asked for adamant and orichalcum. He was not getting enough for his forge alone. He needed more for a special project. He requested special provisions from the Twelve but was denied, so I... I told him that I would find a way to make sure he got what he needed."

Blinking, Zeus clenched his jaw. "Hera," he said through his gritted teeth, "if that is true, why did what you say trigger as a lie to Apollo?"

Lowering her shoulders, Hera released a sigh. "When Hades gave those names to Poseidon..."

Zeus blinked, obviously not remembering the particular names himself. He glanced to Hebe, who could only shrug as she had not been present for this.

"Theseus and Pirithous," Hera said with a sigh, her eyes averting from her husband's form. "They... They're Argonauts... Jason told me he could recruit them for this mission. He said he could convince them to help. He said they were with the clergy and would have the right knowledge to pull this sort of thing off..." Hera took a deep breath and whimpered. "I now realize they have gone to the side of the heretics. Though I did not know it at the time... I may have-" Hera let out a long sigh. "I colluded with the heretics."

Hebe gasped, shaking her head. "Mother..."

"I tried to make it right!" Hera cried, wiping her face. "Last month, I sent Iris and the harpies to raid a stronghold. The harpies said they had tracked them to the Orchard House in Thebes, but when they investigated it... it was empty. Iris returned and gave me the report that it was a dead end."

Zeus raised an eyebrow. "The Orchard House? In Thebes?" he asked, his tone rife with skepticism.

Hera nodded emphatically. "Yes. I am sure of it! I could not forget that place. Before the Delian Uprisings, we were there on a monthly basis, Zeus! Surely, you remember that."

Turning away, Zeus took three steps in the opposite direction. He wrung his hands in front of him. "Hades tracked heretic activity to the Orchard House in Thebes last week. Five days ago, I approved a mission to surveil it and raid if any confirmed heretic activity was occurring."

"What?" Hera asked, her eyes wide open.

"That's some coincidence, dear..." Zeus said, looking over his shoulder. Zeus looked over to Hebe. "Find Iris for me... I'll hear her report myself."

Hebe nodded and stepped between her parents, cutting through the tension. As she swung open the large doors, she paused and chuckled. "Wow. That was easy... Here, she..." she paused, blinked, and shook her head, "is?" she finished.

"What the feck?" asked Zeus as he stepped up behind his daughter.

"What?" asked Hera.

"See for yourself," said Zeus pulling the doors wide open, revealing Melinoë in the Threshold, petting an excited Cerberus. Behind her stood Hypnos carrying an unconscious and bloodied Iris.

Hera marched forward. "Iris? What happened she was just in here!"

Hypnos blinked and shook his head. "I'm sorry, my queen. I hate to d-disagree, but... Iris here was locked up in a d-dungeon in Thebes."

"In Thebes?" asked Zeus, folding his arms and stepping up to Hera's side. "Where in Thebes?"

Melinoë giggled as she hopped and twirled up to the king and queen. "The Orgy House," she said with a bobbly nod. She blinked, shook her head, and giggled. "Sorry, the Orchard House... which sounds like a place with orgies to me. Smelled a bit like it, too..." she giggled. "Probably should have just called the Orgy House," she said with a weird grin. "Anyhoo... We got this gal in need of a physician and I need to see my father. So..." she did an over-the-top curtsy, grabbed Hypnos by the belt, and marched off, her heavy boots thumping on the floor as she left. She did not get far before she whistled. "Oh, and you might want to send somebody to go look over that creepy place. There's a proper mess there," she said before jogging away with a silly giggle.

"Nike," said Zeus with a heavy breath. "Place my wife in orichalcum chains," he said, refusing to look at Hera.

"What?!" screamed Hera. "You can't do this!" she barked.

"Cratus," Zeus said, eyeing the gargantuan guard. "Make sure she's gagged and hooded, too," he said, marching into the throne room. "I don't want her playing her mind games on you and I don't want the mortals to see her face when you haul her through creation to take her to the Underworld."

"Husband!" Hera screamed as she marched after Zeus, only to have the massive doors slammed in her face. Hera scoffed and stormed forward, only to have her wrist caught by Nike, who quickly escorted her to the ground and ensnared her in restraints. "Zeus! Please don't do this!" she screamed as tears flooded her cheeks. Cratus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rammed it down Hera's mouth, silencing her cries and causing her to retch. Nike threw her jacket over the queen's head, casting her into darkness before being hoisted off the ground and hauled away.

## Characters

### Gods

* Hera
* Zeus
* Nike
* Apollo
* Artemis
* Ares
* Eris
* Ilithyia
* Cratus
* Poseidon
* Aristaeus
* Makaria
* Hades
* Hestia
* Asclepius
* "Iris"
* Hebe
* Hephaestus
* Hypnos
* Melinoe
* Iris

## Notes and Trivia

* The Mistress that Hera made think was a Cow was Io.