The air in the grand marble hall of Olympus was heavy with curiosity and unease as the Twelve Olympians assembled, their divine auras mixing and swirling like a storm above the golden floors.
However , the Olympians all had their gazes drifted toward Athena, who stood silently among them, her divine radiance still sealed and her garments dirtied from her recent climb through rugged mountains.
Dust clung to her once-pristine robes, and a faint streak of mud ran along her arm, a rare sight among gods who took great pride in their immaculate appearances.
Yet, Athena, ever composed, merely sighed, realizing belatedly that she had forgotten to make herself presentable before ascending to Olympus.
Still, her calm, intelligent eyes betrayed no embarrassment as she straightened her posture and chose to ignore the curious stares, deciding that such trivialities mattered little in the face of what awaited them.
