The revelry of the gods continued unabated. Such was the nature of the divine: possessed of inexhaustible vitality and near-eternal life, they measured time differently. A mortal banquet might reach its conclusion in a matter of hours, but for the gods, two or three days was merely the beginning. By the eighth or tenth day, the spirits were finally rising; a celebration only truly felt "complete" after a fortnight or a full month.
Hades, however, was not one for such indulgence. Having granted Hebe the authority to traverse the Underworld, he departed Olympus immediately. A mountain of administrative duties awaited him in the Temple of Hades.
After his departure, Hebe sought out another goddess—one of few words but iron conviction. This was the deity who had braved Zeus's oppressive aura in the High Council to stand by her: Hestia, the Goddess of the Hearth and Home, her aunt and great-aunt alike.
"Noble and merciful Hestia, possessor of selfless love—I have not yet had the chance to express my profound respect and gratitude. Thank you for your unwavering support and aid throughout these trials."
In the tangled web of Olympian lineage, nearly every god was related in some fashion. While Hebe and Hestia were not particularly close, the elder goddess's unconditional support was a debt that Hebe felt compelled to repay.
"If there is anything you desire, pray, let me know. I shall do everything in my power to see it fulfilled," Hebe promised, extending a hand of friendship. It was a gesture of both gratitude and strategic alliance, intended to bring the stable Hestia onto her side.
"Hebe of the Life-Breath, there is no need for thanks," Hestia replied. She wore a simple chiton, her deep auburn hair tucked beneath a modest hood. Her face was a portrait of tranquil dignity, her warm orange eyes glowing like the embers of a hearth—possessing a beauty that was both pure and comforting.
She smiled faintly, indifferent to the promise of rewards. Her decision to help Hebe stemmed partly from her genuine admiration for a goddess who had climbed to the heights of power through sheer merit. Unlike many other deities, Hebe possessed a deep-seated respect and care for life and humanity—a kindness that transcended mere profit.
As for the other reason... Hestia sighed inwardly. She did not wish to see her brother, Zeus, sink further into the mire of his own desires. As the eldest daughter of Cronus, she had witnessed their father, driven by the curse of kingship and a madness for power, swallow his children one by one.
She remembered the first time she saw Zeus—the brother who had escaped their father's gullet through the protection of their mother, Rhea. With Zeus's help, she and her siblings had been liberated from the sunless void of their father's stomach. At that time, Zeus was heroic, driven by the desire to save his kin and overthrow Cronus's tyranny. He had set aside racial and factional prejudices to gather any available strength. He was brilliant and just.
But as Cronus fell, he—like his own father, the star-crowned Uranus—had cast a curse: that the new King would also be overthrown by his offspring.
From that moment, Zeus had changed. Like their father before him, the absolute power of the throne had corrupted his spirit. To maintain his rule, he had begun to imitate Cronus, eventually becoming even more ruthless by swallowing the very mother of a potential threat.
This madness chilled Hestia to the bone. She repeatedly opposed Zeus's capricious and tyrannical acts, hoping to steer him back from the brink. Yet, her efforts seemed in vain. Zeus's vendetta against Prometheus was now leading him toward the annihilation of the entire human race.
After expressing her thanks to Hestia, Hebe held a private meeting with Hera and her two brothers, explaining her imminent departure to the Underworld to assist in the establishment of Reincarnation.
Hera nodded in approval. Zeus harbored deep-seated resentment toward his radiant daughter; a period of absence in the Underworld would shield her from his immediate retribution. Once Reincarnation was firmly established under the gaze of the Primordials, even Zeus would not dare to move against her openly.
Despite the logic, Hera's heart was heavy. Hebe had been at her side since birth, and the thought of her leaving—even temporarily—was painful. She held Hebe's hand, offering a litany of motherly advice, stressing most vehemently that Hebe must never eat the food of the Underworld. Hebe listened patiently, basking in the warmth of Hera's maternal devotion.
Hebe also voiced a lingering concern: that by supporting her so publicly, Hera, Ares, and Hephaestus had humiliated Zeus. She feared the King's petty wrath would fall upon them once she was gone.
Hera merely smiled and shook her head. "My clever daughter, do not fret. Your brothers and I are essential pillars of Zeus's rule over this mountain. Even if he wishes to punish us, he cannot afford to go too far. Rest easy."
Though not entirely convinced, Hebe did not waver in her plan. Constant vigilance was no way to live. Once Reincarnation was established and she received the World's favor, her strength would ascend. She would then attempt the "Next Step"—if successful, Zeus's threats would become trivial.
Before leaving, however, she remembered her duties as the Goddess of Winter. To ensure the mortal world did not suffer in her absence, she decided to create Subordinate Deities to manage the season.
Within the Temple of Life, Hebe reached into her chest and withdrew a pure white Godhead. It pulsed with a frigid aura, displaying shifting scenes of blizzards, frost, and the ethereal polar lights. Curiously, because Hebe's Winter had been established as the "Master of the Four Seasons" with Hera's help, the Godhead contained faint, shimmering shadows of Spring, Summer, and Autumn.
This was Hebe's ambition: to eventually seize the essences of the other three seasons and forge a complete Godhead of the Four Seasons. The eternal cycle of the seasons mirrored the journey from life to death and back again—it was the very essence of Reincarnation.
Hebe closed her eyes, summoning the Laws. Through a rhythmic God-Word, she articulated her intent. As she refined the Winter Essence, the white Godhead flared with brilliance and vibrated, splitting into four distinct fragments.
The first was a delicate, grey-white Godhead. Upon its appearance, a flurry of heavy snow began to swirl within the hall. It evolved rapidly into a maiden-deity with large, luminous black eyes and flowing silver hair. Draped in a gown of woven clouds, she looked both holy and ethereal.
Chione, Goddess of Snow: A deity of Second-Tier Lower Power, governing the snowfall of winter.
The newborn deity bowed on one knee, pledging her eternal loyalty to her creator, and stood aside to wait for her companions.
The next fragment shimmered with ice-blue power, instantly coating the temple's flowers in a layer of frost. A youth-god emerged. Unlike the cruelty of winter, he possessed a gentle expression, accentuated by curly white hair, water-blue eyes, and a quilted cotton tunic as soft as sheep's wool.
Glemon, God of Frost: A deity of Second-Tier Lower Power. He governs the frost that coats plants, providing a layer of "warmth" that protects them from the true killing cold—the "Tenderness of Winter."
Next, Hebe drew out the essence of the polar lights. From the kaleidoscopic radiance stepped a beautiful goddess with wings. Her eyes, swirling with the colors of the aurora, possessed the power to lull others into a dreamlike trance.
Aurora, Goddess of the Polar Lights: A deity of Second-Tier Mid Power, governing the aurora, mystery, and dreams—the "Miracle of Winter."
Finally, a Godhead shrouded in pinkish-purple mist materialized. It evolved into a tall goddess with platinum hair and pink-purple eyes. She exuded an aura of profound drowsiness. Hebe noted with surprise that her face bore a striking resemblance to Hypnos—without his white wings, she was a female mirror of the God of Sleep.
Silimos, Goddess of Hibernation: A deity of Second-Tier Upper Power. She is responsible for the long sleep of animals in winter, allowing them to conserve energy and survive the cold—the "Slumber of Winter."
With these four, the basic functions of winter were secured. Hebe ceased her creation, careful not to further diminish her own divine rank by splitting her essence.
"We greet our Lady," the four spoke in unison. "Chione, Glemon, Aurora, and Silimos offer you their loyalty until the end of the world. We are your arms and your wings."
Hebe nodded, satisfied. "I have felt your loyalty. As the Mistress of Winter, I shall provide you with my protection. I will soon depart for the Underworld. The winters of the mortal world are in your hands. Silimos, as you are the most composed, you shall lead the others."
As she spoke, Hebe conjured a necklace shaped like a snowflake and placed it around Silimos's neck. "Beyond your duties, keep a close watch on the movements of Olympus. If anything urgent arises, grip this necklace and call my name. It will allow you to reach me."
Silimos touched the necklace and bowed her head in silent promise.
Having completed her preparations, Hebe did not linger. She used the power of her Godhead of Growth to manifest a sacred Narcissus flower. Holding it, she whispered the name of Hades.
The space around her buckled, and a rift opened in the void. Wisps of grey death-energy seeped out—a stark contrast to the vibrant life of the temple. This was the gate to the Underworld.
Under the gaze of her new subordinates, Hebe stepped through the rift.
The scenery shifted instantly. She found herself standing upon a desolate, dim plain. Above, a violet-red sun cast an eerie, haunting glow across the horizon.
"Master of the High Mystery of Life, noble Hebe—I am Phagos, God of the Sun of the Dead. On behalf of King Hades, I welcome you."
Hebe turned to the dark-haired deity with the obsidian-gold wings. A smile touched her red lips.
"'It is a pleasure to meet you,' Lord Phagos, Kind Radiance of the Underworld. I am honored."
Meanwhile, back on Olympus, the banquet was still in full swing. Selene, the Goddess of the Full Moon, wore a crown of silver light. She stood with her sister, Eos, the Goddess of Dawn, her elegant face clouded with a faint, lingering sorrow.
Her grief was not for their brother, Helios, who remained under house arrest. Without his protection, their status on the mountain had plummeted. No, her sorrow was for a mortal—a shepherd named Endymion.
He was a graceful youth who tended his flocks on Mount Latmus in Asia Minor, living a carefree life in a sun-drenched valley. One night, while driving her chariot across the sky, Selene had looked down and seen him sleeping.
In that moment, the Full Moon Goddess felt her heart stir with an uncontrollable passion. She had glided down from the heavens and pressed a deep, soulful kiss upon the youth's cheek. She had then been forced to return to her duties, but since then, she had descended every night to meet her beloved shepherd in secret.
As Eos listened, her heart pounded with dread. She gripped her golden cup, staring at her love-struck sister in disbelief.
Since the downfall of Helios, the cold reality of their precarious position had shattered Eos's pride. She had become meticulous, terrified of giving Zeus any excuse to purge them. She had not expected her usually calm sister to be the one to falter. To abandon one's post during the night patrol was not just a mistake—it was a dereliction of divine duty!
"Selene, my dear sister, surely you see the consequences of this," Eos pleaded. "We no longer have Helios to shield us. You must stop this! He is but a lowly human. His beauty will wither with time. Why risk everything for—"
"Enough!"
Selene turned on her sister, her eyes flashing. The madness of her love had eclipsed her reason. Hearing Eos call her lover "lowly" caused a cold sneer to touch her lips.
"Eos of the Dawn—by what right do you look down on Endymion? 'Goddess of Dawn'? You are nothing more than a servant who harnesses the horses for the sun. You are in no position to lecture me."
With those cruel words, Selene swept away, leaving Eos stunned.
No god noticed the faint, peach-gold divine power coiled deep within Selene's eyes—a power that fueled the heat of her obsession, whispering to her heart to go and meet her lover once more...