Overworld.
All across the land, the divine order stirred as the ripples of Zeus's summons reached every corner of heaven, sea, and earth.
One by one, the Olympians felt the faint pulse of divine authority that could only come from their king, a call that no god, no matter how distant or disobedient, could ignore.
In the temple of Rhea, Hestia looked up from the simmering cauldron where she was preparing an enormous feast beside her mother Rhea, her gentle face bathed in the soft orange glow of sacred fire.
The smell of ambrosia and honeyed wine filled the air, but her hands paused mid-stir.
She closed her eyes, sensing the call that brushed her divine essence like a whisper of thunder.
Rhea noticed immediately, her motherly smile faltering as she, too, sensed the disturbance.
"Zeus has called," Hestia murmured softly, her voice steady yet distant, the calm surface of a lake disturbed by a sudden storm.
