Zeus returned to the Temple of the King in a towering rage. With a violent wave of his hand, the massive doors slammed shut, barring everyone—even his Queen, Hera—from entry. The gods, well aware of the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of Prometheus at Mekone, understood his fury. They wisely retreated to their own sanctuaries, careful not to disturb the incensed King, lest they be caught in the collateral lightning of his temper.
No matter, they thought. The lifespan of a god is eternal. Zeus's anger will likely simmer down in a century or two. Hardly a cause for concern.
Behind the sealed doors of the Great Temple, the Master of the Stormy Clouds covered his face with his long, elegant fingers. He seemed consumed by a lingering wrath.
"Heh... Hahaha!" A fractured laugh escaped through the gaps of his fingers. Then, the King of Gods lowered his hand, and the brittle chuckle erupted into a vibrant, booming roar of laughter, as if some grand, joyous event had just occurred.
"Prometheus, most brilliant of gods... you are indeed a master of stratagems. But that does not mean you can easily make a fool of every deity. You are too arrogant, too self-assured. And that arrogance will be the very thing that demands your price."
Zeus looked up. A strange, inky-blue radiance flickered at his brow—a divine power of clarity, sagacity, and strategic foresight that provided him with a constant stream of wisdom.
Epimetheus's Essence of Ignorance was indeed potent. Initially, even Zeus had been clouded, believing the Forethinker had finally set aside his pride and offered true submission.
But Prometheus had underestimated one goddess: Metis, the first Queen. She was the daughter of Oceanus and Tethys, the primordial Goddess of Wisdom. Though Athena had taken a portion of that essence when she was born, the residual wisdom Metis had left within Zeus's body allowed him to break through the shroud of ignorance just moments before he made his choice. He had seen the truth of the offerings clearly.
After his initial surge of genuine anger, a wave of ecstasy had followed. A plan had formed in his mind.
He had feigned ignorance, choosing the pile that was "fair without but foul within." When the truth was revealed, he had staged a magnificent tantrum, revoking the blessings and the fire from humanity.
Without their resilient physiques and without fire, how would humans survive an earth teeming with monsters? How would they endure the biting frost of winter?
Prometheus would not give up on the fire—especially not the fire of the Thunderbolt.
Now, all Zeus had to do was set the snare and wait for the prey to walk into it. Whether Prometheus succeeded or failed, Zeus would have the mandate to judge his crimes and cast divine retribution upon the new human race.
The warnings of the Moirai and the ever-growing intellect of this generation of humans posed a threat Zeus could not ignore. What he wanted was the total annihilation of this era of mankind.
He was a cautious King. Since he knew the source of the threat, he would extinguish it before it could truly erupt. Just as he had once swallowed Metis.
Afterward, he would create a newer race of men. They would not need eternal youth or resilient bodies, nor would they require overly brilliant souls. They would only need to survive, to procreate, and to live in perpetual awe of the gods—providing a steady, unending stream of Faith.
Hebe bid farewell to Prometheus and returned to her Temple of Life. The constant maneuvering and plotting among the gods left her weary. She even harbored a faint suspicion that Prometheus, who appeared so selfless in his devotion to humanity, might not be as noble as he seemed. She couldn't see through him entirely, so she chose to look away.
If I can't solve it, I won't dwell on it, she decided. Since Prometheus had his own designs, she would stop meddling. Her priority now was to seize the initiative regarding the Cycle of Reincarnation.
'Phagos.'
The golden-haired, purple-eyed goddess closed her eyes, calling out to her half-body in the depths of her mind.
Deep within the Underworld, in the Temple of the Sun of the Dead, the dark-haired deity who had been contemplating the Laws with his Godhead felt a stir. He closed his dark-gold eyes, and his consciousness entered a singular space to meet his primary self.
'My Lady, do you call because the time is ripe?'
'Indeed, Phagos. A disaster is brewing, and another catastrophe is imminent. Within a century, the humans on earth will face another era of transition. It is time to act. Go to the Lord of Many Guests. This matter is of the utmost importance; try to ensure that the Mistress of the Underworld herself makes an appearance.'
'I understand.'
Severing the link, Phagos stood. Great wings of obsidian and gold unfurled from his back. He crossed the vast Plain of Truth and entered the Temple of Hades.
Within the hall, the dark-haired King of the Underworld sat upon his throne of bone. Before him, a massive stone table was piled high with mountain-like stacks of parchment scrolls. The surrounding divine thrones were empty.
The gods of the Underworld were not as leisurely as those on Olympus. After several cataclysms, the number of souls in the land of the dead had reached staggering proportions. With more souls came more bureaucracy. Not only was Hades buried in paperwork, but the other Underworld deities were also perpetually overwhelmed. This was why Thanatos had been so ecstatic to "capture" Phagos as a subordinate—he was desperate for someone to share the load.
"Master of Souls and Wealth, majestic Lord of Many Guests—I have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you, one that concerns the ascension of the Underworld itself," Phagos said softly as he approached.
Hades paused, his interest piqued. He set aside his tedious administrative work and looked up. Since the topic involved the "ascension" of his realm, he had to take it seriously. The King's emerald eyes flickered with scrutiny as he studied Phagos—a deity who had been exceptionally low-profile since his birth. He hadn't expected the God of the Sun of the Dead to drop such a bombshell.
"Kind Radiance, Phagos," Hades replied. "Speak. What matter is so significant that it concerns the very rank of the Underworld?"
Phagos flicked his wrist, and a scroll made of Golden Parchment appeared in his hand. He handed it to Hades, explaining:
"The number of spirits in our realm is growing exponentially. Elysium can no longer accommodate more souls, and the Plain of Truth is cluttered with the wandering ghosts of new humans and beasts. It is chaotic and difficult to manage. More importantly, every time a generation of life perishes, the World must consume a portion of its Primal Essence to create new souls. This is a massive drain on the fabric of reality."
"My proposal involves the recycling of these spirits. First, it will alleviate the workload of the Underworld gods. Second, it will save a vast amount of Primal Essence, providing the Underworld with the opportunity to ascend to a higher plane."
Hades took the scroll and scanned its contents with lightning speed. It was a conceptual blueprint—a plan to "reuse" the "waste" souls of the dead.
From the guidance of the deceased to the entry into the Underworld, the judgment of good and evil, the system of reward and punishment, and finally, the return to the earth as a new life—it was detailed, innovative, and utterly revolutionary.
The concept was called "Reincarnation."
The King's eyes blazed with a sharp light. Having held his high office for years, he recognized the value of this scroll immediately. Phagos was not exaggerating. If these measures were implemented, the Underworld would finally see the ascension it had been simmering toward for ages.
"Hypnos!"
Hades invoked the authority of the King, summoning the son of Nyx, his most capable aide.
A deity with pure white wings—an appearance that seemed at odds with the gloom of the Underworld—materialized in the hall. His pinkish-purple eyes looked at Hades with confusion.
"Hypnos, take this scroll to your mother, the Black-Winged Nyx. She will understand once she sees it," Hades commanded.
"By your will, Great Master of the Dead." Seeing Hades's solemnity, Hypnos nodded and took the scroll. His white wings spread, and he flew toward Tartarus, where his parents resided alongside their brother, the God of the Abyss.
Hypnos was swift. Within moments, a curtain of absolute darkness descended upon the Temple of Hades. From the gloom stepped a goddess draped in a gown of starlit black silk. She was hauntingly beautiful—a beauty of silence, sagacity, and mystery unique to the night. She exuded an effortless nobility; she simply stood there, and a sense of reverence and submission washed over everyone present.
One of the four Primordial Gods of the current era, the Personification of Night, Mother of Fate: the supreme Goddess Nyx.
"Supreme Goddess, welcome," Hades said, standing to greet the true power behind the Underworld.
"Hades, it has been a long time. The Underworld has avoided chaos thanks to your stewardship. You have done well." The Primordial Goddess showed no arrogance. Her words were gentle, like a spring breeze, leaving one both soothed and flattered.
"It is my duty," Hades replied with a faint smile.
"To the point, then," Nyx said, cutting through the pleasantries. "Hades, regarding this concept of 'Reincarnation'—did you propose it?"
"My Lady Nyx, the one who conceived this plan is the God of the Sun of the Dead and of Death, son of the Earth and the Abyss: Phagos." Hades introduced the winged deity.
"Great Goddess of Night, I offer you my respect." Even though Phagos had ascended to the status of a Primary God, the pressure of a Primordial was immense. He fought to keep his expression neutral.
"Master of the Sun of the Dead..." Nyx's grey eyes scanned Phagos, a shimmer of light passing through them. She smiled. "I remember you. Your arrival brought the grace of light to these lands. Your contribution to the world is evident."
"I thank the Goddess for her praise. To make the world more complete is the duty and mission of every deity."
"Heh... if only every god shared that sentiment," Nyx remarked noncommittally. She turned back to Hades. "King Hades, this matter involves many deities. Summon them to this hall so we may discuss this together."
Hades nodded and used his authority once more. One by one, the relevant Underworld deities were summoned. They took their seats upon thrones burning with spectral blue flames, surrounding a massive stone table, waiting for Nyx's direction.
"Gods of the Underworld," Nyx began, her grey eyes sweeping the room. The sheer weight of her Primordial presence made every deity straighten their backs. "I have called you here because the Underworld stands on the brink of a massive transformation. This concerns our realm's ascension and the completion of the world itself. To achieve this, I require your full cooperation. If successful, the benefits to all of you will be immense. I expect no selfishness—only total dedication."
Satisfied with the response, Nyx signaled for Phagos to begin. Since the idea was his, it was best he presented it.
"Ahem... My fellow gods," Phagos began. "Inspired by the omnipresent Laws of the World, I have noted that the number of spirits in our realm is ballooning, and our duties are becoming increasingly convoluted..."
The gods nodded in unison. They were exhausted. Some had even come to the meeting with lingering resentment, thinking of the work piling up while they sat here. Compared to the gods on Olympus who spent their days in drunken revelry, the Underworld gods were rightfully bitter.
"To reduce the number of spirits and lighten our burdens—and most importantly, to conserve the World's Primal Essence—I propose a system for soul recycling: Reincarnation!"
As he spoke, the Golden Parchment glowed. A projection of the plan appeared in the center of the hall, showing the journey from the perspective of a deceased soul.
"The deceased shall enter the Underworld through the entrance at Mount Pargos. As the first checkpoint, this shall be guarded by the three-headed dog, Cerberus, to prevent unauthorized entry or escape."
The soul was shown passing Cerberus's inspection and entering the realm.
"To truly set foot in the Underworld, one must cross the River Acheron. Currently, Charon is the sole ferryman, which is inefficient. I propose building a bridge over the River of Woe using Stygian stone. Charon's role will shift from Ferryman to Guardian of the Bridge. Any soul crossing must pay a toll."
In the projection, the ferry was gone, replaced by a massive bridge. Charon stood at the gate, collected the toll, and the soul crossed smoothly.
In the hall, the blue-skinned Charon looked visibly moved. He stared at Phagos with profound gratitude. His job was an endless loop of rowing back and forth—heaven knew how tedious it was! If a bridge were built, he would gain status and, more importantly, a degree of freedom.
I'm in! Charon thought fiercely. I'll fight anyone who opposes this! Phagos, my brother, after this meeting, we're becoming blood brothers!
His gaze was so intense it made Phagos slightly uncomfortable.
"Ahem..." Phagos continued. "Once across, the light of the Sun of the Dead and the Moon of the Dead will guide the souls along their path."
Hecate nodded, accepting her role as the Guide of Souls.
"The first stop will be the Temple of Hades. Here, souls will register. Their identities and earthly deeds will be recorded. This will require the assistance of Lady Mnemosyne."
Hades approved. These records would be a goldmine of intelligence. Good work, Phagos!
"After registration, the souls proceed to the Temple of Lady Themis. Using the Scales of Justice, she will weigh their earthly deeds to determine their alignment."
The white-robed goddess, her eyes veiled, nodded her consent.
"We will develop a new, smaller section within Tartarus as a 'Hell.' The guilty will be sent there to serve sentences and atone for their crimes," Phagos said, looking at Nyx. "As for the punishments, I suggest they be managed by the children of Lady Nyx."
Nyx smiled. Many of her children governed over misery, pain, and toil. This "Hell" was practically designed for them.
"Once atoned, or if the soul was innocent, they will arrive at the Temple of Lady Mnemosyne. There, the power of the Trele Spring (Lethe) will wash away their memories, restoring them to a state of purity. Finally, they are cast back to the earth to be born anew."
The presentation concluded.
"I support it!" Charon was the first to shout.
"I have no objections," Themis and Mnemosyne said in unison. The benefits to their own domains were too great to ignore.
"I agree as well," the Moon Goddess Hecate spoke up, though a frown touched her brow. "However, there is one issue... Souls entering the Underworld are tainted by the aura of death. They have lost their vitality. How do we restore their spark before they return to the earth?"
Hecate, my dear sister! Phagos thought.
He flashed a brilliant smile, looking the picture of selfless devotion. "To establish Reincarnation, we cannot bypass the gods of Olympus. As far as I know, there is a goddess on the mountain who holds the Authority of Life and the office of welcoming the newborn. The issue of restoring vitality can surely be solved through her."
"...Hebe, the Goddess of Life?"
The names of the legendary goddess surfaced in the minds of the Underworld deities, and they fell into deep thought.
Sitting at the head of the table, the supreme Nyx raised a subtle eyebrow. An interested smile touched her red lips as her eyes shimmered with a knowing light.