Hera was furious. Everyone on Olympus kept their distance—she saw it, she knew it. Her rage felt irrational, yet it burned through her veins like a living poison. Hestia had tried to calm her, retreating in weary surrender after hours of fruitless soothing. Demeter looked at her for a moment and calmly said she would help—but only if Hera returned the coin Hades had given her. With that, she disappeared, the coin in hand.
Poseidon was nowhere near to absorb her wrath, and Zeus was with the Titaness, entwined like two animals often seen and heard throughout Olympus. The nymphs and lesser gods who had joined the Olympians during the early days of their reign merely watched Hera with curious eyes—keeping their distance whenever she approached.
A new deity had also emerged in Olympus, theoretically their half-sister. Aphrodite. A being of such unbearable beauty it felt like a physical assault. All desirable traits given form, Hera thought bitterly. Skirmishes had already sparked among the Olympians over her.
Hera wondered yet again if, aside from Metis, she would also have to contend with this new addition before she could ascend to the throne.
Striding into a sunlit hall, Hera found Metis disentangling herself from Zeus. A trail of white fluid glistened down the Titaness's thighs.
"Hera!" Zeus called, still reclining, gloriously naked. "I heard something troubles you. As King of the Gods, it's my duty to assist."
Metis stood to his right and slightly behind him, watching Hera with a spark in her eyes that only made Hera angrier—but she swallowed her frustration.
"Rumors say you plan to wed the Titaness Metis," Hera stated, watching the reaction of both her brother and the interloper who had stolen her place. "To make her Queen of Olympus."
"Exactly!" Zeus beamed. "Good news travels fast. Metis crafted the draught that freed you all from our father's stomach."
This was news to Hera, and she glared at the Titaness for the first time.
She seemed as fluid as Hades—her body morphing to her will, like innate shapeshifting. Unlike Hades, who enjoyed embodying both masculine and feminine forms to Poseidon's amusement, Metis tried to appear as perfectly feminine as possible. Her voluptuous physique had a faint green tint and was partially covered in delicate scales. Purple marks on her neck revealed where Zeus's hands had gripped her minutes before. Her hair was short and wavy like the ocean's waves, her lips full and red, and her eyes as deep and dark as Oceanus's trenches.
"A union of a god and a Titan will ease tensions on both sides and strengthen Zeus's legitimacy," Metis's voice cut through Hera's fury. "I believe Poseidon is courting Amphitrite right now—but as a rebellious Titan's daughter, I'm not certain he will succeed. As a Titaness, She may help legitimize his claim over the seas. As for Hades..." She shrugged elegantly. "My connections to the Underworld are sparse. His movements elude me."
Zeus showed no surprise at these revelations, but the way he looked at Metis's body and lips spoke volumes about whose attention he was captive to.
"I see," Hera pressed, desperate to steer this toward something salvageable. "You're well-informed. What, precisely, is your domain?"
Hearing about Poseidon's pursuit of another deepened her frustration, but she composed herself.
"My domains are esoteric—nothing tangible—but they allow me to gather and interpret information, a vital skill for a queen." Hera noted how nonchalantly Metis described her powers—passive on the surface, but potentially able to manipulate Zeus like a puppet, feeding him falsehoods and directing him toward traitors.
"She is perfect, isn't she, Hera? She told me Hades was likely safe even after being captured by Kronos in our first battle—and that we should exterminate the Titans loyal to him first," Zeus interjected with a grin.
"Truly perfect, brother," Hera replied, her voice honeyed steel. "Almost… prophetic." She added, trying to underline the danger.
"A queenly gift, don't you think, Metis?" Zeus prompted.
"Alas, no," Metis replied with teasing humor, and Hera resisted the urge to grit her teeth. "That power belongs to Prometheus. Perhaps he should be your queen, Zeus."
"Unfortunately, Prometheus lacks your charm, so I'll resist that tempting offer," Zeus's reply came with soft laughter.
Before the discussion could continue, flames ripped from the floor—not hot, but so cold that the hairs on Hera's nape stood up. Shadows and smoke billowed out from the cracks. Zeus leapt to his feet as electricity crackled in his hands—but then he relaxed.
Emerging from the fissures as if nothing had happened was Hades—more breathtaking than the last time she'd seen him. Demeter was with him, clinging to his arm and pressing her breasts against his side. The effect on him was palpable. His robe—a lightweight material—rippled as he walked.
Knowing her sister, Hera sensed that Demeter was restraining herself from whisking Hades away into a secluded part of Olympus to demonstrate her solo training. After all, this may have been the first time their brother had ever visibly reacted to either of them—That reaction from Hades? Unprecedented. The Underworld's throne must have amplified their shared blessing.
"Hera, Zeus, Metis," Hades greeted, nodding at each of them. Confusion flashed across his features as he stared at Metis—until a glimmer of recognition lit his face.
"Hades, you seem to recall something about me—could you share?" Metis asked with a playful laugh, as if expecting hidden knowledge about Zeus. He looked back at Hades, bewildered.
Hades paused, glancing at Demeter on his arm and then at Metis beside Zeus, before making his choice.
"Do you," he asked,"bear a prophecy? One tied to you… or your son?" his tone laced with curiosity and resolve.
Metis looked puzzled for a moment. The rest of them exchanged horrified glances—memories of their father still fresh. Was this prophecy foreshadowing something for Zeus?
A stunned silence choked the hall. Kronos's fate flashed before them—swallowed children, rebellion, mutilation.
Before they could react further, as suddenly as Hades had appeared, a whirlwind deposited Prometheus in their midst. The Titan's eyes blazed with fury, fixed solely on Hades.
***
POV: Hades
Prometheus's anger drained all my confidence in asking my question. I looked at the only Titan whose memories I held clearly—the one who brought fire to humanity and chose to trust its potential, despite knowing the future, condemning him to eternal torment.
"Hades," he said, then nodded toward the hall's exit. "A word."
A poor move from someone gifted with prophecy.
Before he could blink, Zeus summoned the Master Bolt. Hera's fingers crackled with curses. Demeter… exploded.
The ceiling vaporized. Where the goddess of harvest stood now loomed a colossus of living rock, vines, and raw divinity. Earth's Sovereignty—incomplete but terrifying—wreathed her. A living emblem of Earth's power, bearing so much divinity that she could rival Zeus.
Metis and I merely exchanged resigned glances. I decided, then, that she would always be welcome in the Underworld—over tea, we could gripe about the gods' flawed logic.
As Prometheus struggled to convince the furious trio he hadn't meant to silence me—and would now share his knowledge—Metis and I exchanged a glance. We slipped away to join Hestia and surprisingly, Aphrodite. With a thought, the horn materialized in my hand, its gem-crusted surface cool against my palm. Ambrosia-stuffed dates and nectar-drenched figs bloomed across the table. We ate while waiting for the theatrics to end.
Speaking of Aphrodite. My first sight of her ignited murderous fury. She wore my beloved's face, her body. But a heartbeat later, the illusion shattered. I realized that was merely her domain's echo, a mirror reflecting deepest desire. The more I looked at her, the less she seemed like my lost love and more like a confused, frightened girl. A being months old, drowning in the lustful gazes of immortals.
Maybe that tragic desire is what shattered her and gave birth to a caricature of envy we'll come to know.
Outside, the "battle" ended. Zeus hauled a disheveled Prometheus back inside. Hera and Demeter watched the Titan with undimmed suspicion.
"Speak, Prometheus," Zeus commanded, retaking his throne as if a goddess hadn't just demolished his ceiling. His gaze swept dismissively over our table.
"Hades triggered a prophecy that was set to occur in years—it's been accelerated. What was years away now unfolds within nine moons," Prometheus revealed, staring pointedly at me.
I spread my hands, unimpressed. "If my mere words could hasten fate, your dramatic entrance likely shattered it completely."
Prometheus paled. His eyes widened in dawning, horrified realization.
Apparently, I was right.