Following their "first meeting" in the Underworld, the Goddess of Life, Hebe, and the God of the Sun of the Dead, Phagos, established a formal connection before the eyes of the denizens of the deep.
Under the guidance of Phagos, Hebe arrived at the Temple of Hades. As expected, the Lord of Many Guests was still buried beneath a mountain of administrative scrolls. Hebe couldn't help but wonder if that towering heap of parchment ever truly diminished.
"Master of Souls and Wealth, King Hades—Lady Hebe has arrived," the winged deity said, bowing low.
Hades finally looked up from the heavy paperwork. Even a god of his stature could not entirely hide the traces of exhaustion. "My thanks, Phagos. You may withdraw."
"By your will, Great King." Phagos bowed again and passed Hebe without a glance, exiting the hall.
Hades fixed his emerald eyes on the radiant, golden-haired goddess. Her aura of life was so potent that, in the corners of his death-shrouded temple, strange flowers with translucent petals began to bloom where her light touched the stone.
"Hebe of the Life-Breath, I did not expect you to arrive so soon." Hades had assumed she would linger upon Olympus for some time.
Hebe offered a faint smile. "I did not wish to disappoint the expectations of the two Primordials. It is necessary to establish Reincarnation with the utmost haste. As you have likely heard, the King has given Pandora a certain box. The destruction of this generation of mankind is only a matter of time. If the Cycle is not established before then, the World will be forced to consume even more Primal Essence to forge the souls of the next race."
"..."
Hades frowned, his dissatisfaction with his capricious younger brother clear. These heavenly gods never considered the consequences of their whims. Zeus might enjoy the immediate satisfaction of his wrath, but it was the Underworld deities who were left to clean up the mess. Managing a sudden influx of millions of souls was a bureaucratic nightmare.
"Preparations for the Cycle are nearing completion," Hades said. "The construction of the miniature 'Hell' within Tartarus is ongoing, and Hecate is assisting with that project. As for the rest—the Bridge over the Acheron, the Hall of Judgment for Themis, and the Hall of Oblivion for Mnemosyne—they are already standing. The efficiency of my subjects is high when it concerns their own peace. Now, the remaining question is how you intend to reignite the Fire of Life within the spirits. What is your design?"
Hades handed a scroll to Hebe detailing the progress. Indeed, the Underworld gods had worked with desperate speed, likely hoping that a functioning Cycle would reduce the chaos of the wandering dead.
"I have a plan," Hebe said. She raised a hand, and divine light sketched a massive stone archway in the air. "Once a soul has completed the rituals of judgment and oblivion, they shall pass through this gate to return to the mortal world and be cast into new, budding lives. This requires mastery over the High Mysteries of Space. Since Cronus, the original master of Space, is imprisoned in Tartarus, we may need the assistance of Lord Tartarus himself to facilitate the passage."
Hades nodded. "That is manageable. But what of the rejuvenation itself? Do you intend to carve God-Runes upon the gate?"
"Observe, Great King."
In Hebe's palm appeared a golden seed, pulsing with the power of Resurrection.
"This is a Seed of Miracles, born from the Godhead of Resurrection. It feeds upon the aura of death. It shall grow into a Divine Grass of Rebirth. I shall plant it within the Archway of Reincarnation. When a soul prepares for transit, the grass will bestow the majesty of Resurrection upon it, reigniting the Fire of Life."
As long as there was death-energy to feed the grass, it would flourish. Hebe wouldn't need to manually process every soul; she could simply station a guardian deity there.
"Excellent. The feasibility is high," Hades said, looking at the stunning goddess with renewed interest. It seemed Olympus still held real talent. A thought crossed his mind. "Lady Hebe, have you considered a permanent residence in the Underworld? The glory Olympus offers, I can match—and exceed. If you stay, I am willing to share half the Authority of this realm with you."
It wasn't a proposal of love, but of professional admiration. Hades felt that with her capability and status, she was the only one qualified to be the Queen of the Dead.
Is he asking me to be the Queen of the Underworld?
Alarm bells rang in Hebe's head. She stepped back subtly, a polite but awkward smile on her face. "I thank the King for his high regard. However, as a deity of Life, I prefer the vibrancy of the earth. Furthermore, I still have the duties of Winter to fulfill. I must respectfully decline."
She kept her divine power ready. While Hades had always been composed, the reputation of Greek gods for "abduction-marriages" was notorious. She wouldn't put it past him to try something drastic.
"..."
Hades noted her wariness. Though disappointed, he wasn't surprised. He knew her spirit was too high to be contained by a throne of bone. A pity, he thought. If I had a Queen, I could have legally dumped half this paperwork on her...
"Do not be tense," Hades said, seeking to soothe her. "It was merely a proposal. I respect your wishes."
Hebe exhaled, though the atmosphere still felt stifling. She was eager to leave. "Having arrived in your realm, I have not yet had the chance to see its 'scenery.' I shall not disturb your work further."
"A moment," Hades interrupted as she turned to leave. "Restrain your aura of life. This is the gathering place of the dead. They possess a near-maniacal obsession with the living. Without a guide, if you walk out like that, I fear the spirits will riot within three seconds."
Hebe winced. She had forgotten the nature of the locals. She immediately suppressed her radiance, replacing the warmth of Life with a frigid, repelling chill of Winter.
"Thank you for the warning, Great King." She paused, looking at the mountain of scrolls again. "Lord of Many Guests... do you truly deal with this much work every day? Is there no one to assist you?"
"The Underworld gods are already at capacity. Creating more subordinates is a temporary fix; there are never enough hands."
Hebe sighed. These gods were occasionally too rigid. They sat upon a treasure trove without realizing it. "Master of Souls, you are blinded to your own wealth. Why look only to the gods? What does the Underworld have in the greatest abundance? Souls. Many of the new humans who perished in the fire-calamity possessed souls gifted by the Forethinker. They are efficient and sharp. Choose the best among them, delegate the bureaucracy to them, and if they perform well, grant them a Third-Tier Godhead. To a human, a spark of divinity—even the smallest—is a reward beyond measure."
Hades's eyes widened. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Why didn't I think of that? The Underworld gods were so used to seeing souls as "products" that they never saw them as "personnel."
"Hebe of the Life-Breath... your insight is invaluable. From this day forth, you are the most honored guest of the Underworld!" Hades stood excitedly, already planning to have Thanatos round up the smartest ghosts. He paused at the door. "Are you truly sure you won't reconsider being Queen?"
"I am sure. Thank you, Great King," Hebe said, backing away three more steps. I respect you, but don't push it!
Hades shrugged and left the hall in a hurry to find his future "civil servants."
Hebe explored the realm at her leisure. She visited Elysium, where the souls of the Golden Race slept, and marveled at its quiet beauty. Later, she walked across the Plain of Truth. Her aura of Winter kept the spirits at a distance, granting her a rare moment of peace.
The stillness of the Underworld began to settle her mind. As her thoughts grew quiet, a wave of drowsiness washed over her.
"!"
Hebe's eyes snapped open, a flash of irritation and cold light in her purple irises.
"Lord Hypnos—since you are here, pray show yourself. Is ambushing a guest the hospitality of the Underworld?"
"My sincerest apologies, noble Hebe," a white-winged deity with pink-purple eyes appeared before her, a look of contrition on his handsome face. "I merely saw that you appeared weary and wished to gift you a beautiful dream."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but no thank you," Hebe replied frostily. Regardless of his intent, the power of this god was terrifying—he had nearly pulled her into sleep without a sound. It was no wonder Zeus had fallen victim to him in the legends.
Hypnos looked helpless. He had been genuinely curious about this legendary goddess and wanted to test if her strength matched the rumors. The result was clear: she was formidable.
"Lady Hebe, please believe I meant no harm. This was an offense on my part. Please, accept this small token as an apology."
In his hand appeared a beautiful object: a hoop woven from branches and leather, with a complex, web-like pattern of sinew in the center, adorned with gems and pure white feathers.
A Dreamcatcher. It possessed the power to ward off nightmares and capture only the most serene visions for its owner.
"...Very well. I accept your apology." Seeing his sincerity, Hebe softened. From Phagos's memories, she knew Hypnos was generally honorable. "Now, tell me why you have come."
Hypnos's expression turned solemn. "Supreme Nyx, the Personification of Night, requests an audience with you."
Nyx wants to see me?
Hebe hesitated. Every encounter with the Primordial Goddess left her feeling exposed. Nyx was too powerful, too omniscient. Her gaze held a depth that Hebe couldn't fathom.
"Lead the way, Lord Hypnos," Hebe said. In the Underworld, one did not say "no" to the Night.
They arrived at a palace of black Stygian stone near the Abyss of Tartarus—the home of Nyx and her husband, Erebus.
Hebe entered the hall, where spectral blue fires burned low. Upon the high thrones sat the two Great Ones: the grey-eyed Nyx and the Lord of Deepest Shadow, Erebus.
"Great Father, Great Mother—Hebe of the Life-Breath is here," Hypnos said, bowing.
"Greetings to the Quiet Night and the Deepest Shadow. Hebe pays her respects to the Primordials." Hebe bowed and kept her eyes lowered.
"Go, my child," Nyx said warmly to Hypnos. "And Erebus, my husband—the Archway of Reincarnation requires the essence of Cronus for its runes. Go to Tartarus and instruct him to yield a portion. Perhaps a display of force will silence the wailing of those Titans for a time."
"Very well," Erebus stood, his voice like sliding stone. "If they weren't Gaia's brood, I'd have snuffed them out long ago. I'll go remind them of their place." He spoke of killing Titans as if he were discussing a minor chore.
Once he was gone, only the two goddesses remained. Nyx said nothing at first, and Hebe waited in the heavy silence.
"I have long wished for a private word with you, Lady Hebe," Nyx began. Her grey eyes shimmered with shifting light, like threads of destiny. "You are a singular existence. To have the brilliance to split your thread of fate into two—governing two extremes of power—only for Reincarnation to offer the possibility of their fusion... a work of genius."
Hebe felt as though she had been struck by a physical blow. She looked up in shock. Nyx knew. She knew the secret of her split identity.
Hebe didn't run. Where could she go? She forced herself to be calm. Nyx had dismissed everyone else to say this; she wasn't planning on exposing her. She wanted something.
Seeing Hebe's quick recovery, Nyx nodded in approval. "Do not fear. None but I, who can perceive the Highest Fate, see the truth. I have no wish to interrupt your ascension. On the contrary... I wish to help you. I wish to give you the chance to stand upon the same level as I."
Her level? A Primordial God?
The temptation was overwhelming. No deity could refuse such a path.
"Wise and far-seeing Nyx... why help me?" Hebe asked. "There is no such thing as a free gift."
Nyx smiled. "First, you have brought many completions to the Laws of this world; the World's Will favors you. Second, you are unique, and I find you fascinating."
Her smile faded slightly, and she looked toward a distant, unseen point. Her voice turned complex. "And third... because our dear brother, Eros, is soon to be reborn."