Astraeus was pulled back from the void by Hebe's majesty of Resurrection. As the deity opened his eyes and found himself within the Great Temple, surrounded by the scrutinizing gazes of the pantheon, a sense of profound confusion washed over him. He wondered if there was something amiss with his features to warrant such stares.
However, his expression quickly contorted. He felt a sickening plunge in his divine rank. He attempted to call upon the constellations, but the heavens remained silent, offering no resonance to his will.
Sinking his consciousness into his core, Astraeus was seized by a paralyzing terror. His Godhead of the Stars was gone. In its place sat a foreign, dull, grey Godhead. Though it hummed with a trace of stellar power, it was a wretched shadow of his former glory. Moreover, what was this suffocating aura of calamity and ill-omen radiating from his very soul?
"What... what has happened to me? Who! Who dared steal my Starry Essence!" Astraeus shrieked, the loss of his power driving him to the brink of madness.
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto the golden-haired, purple-eyed goddess standing nearby. His pupils contracted violently. Memories surged back like a tidal wave, yet they stopped abruptly at the moment he lunged with his Star-Spear. Beyond that, there was a void.
One had to credit the technical support of Lady Mnemosyne; a single draught from the Trele Spring guaranteed one wouldn't even remember the name of their own mother.
"You! You stole my essence! You wretched goddess! Give it back!" Astraeus roared, lunging from the floor, his hands clawing toward Hebe in a fit of feral desperation.
"Impudent!" A voice rang out like a crack of thunder. Eos, radiating a rosy brilliance, stepped in front of Hebe. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she unleashed a localized gale.
Having integrated the Monsoon Godhead, Eos was now on the cusp of breaking into the Primary-deity rank. Astraeus, now a mere Second-Tier deity with an unstable foundation, stood no chance. The blast of wind struck him like a physical blow, sending him tumbling across the hall until he slammed into the marble wall.
Freshly reborn and divinely fragile, Astraeus spat out a mouthful of ichor and collapsed into unconsciousness.
"..."
Many of the goddesses present watched with visible satisfaction. For a "God-Scum" like him, no amount of brutality was too much.
"Perses, Pallas," Zeus interjected, clearing his throat as he sought to dismiss the brothers before they could eye the new leader-stars again. "The trial is over. It is unseemly for Astraeus to cause such a scene before a Primordial. Since he is restored, take him and begone."
The matter was settled. Perses and Pallas, seeing no other choice, hauled their unconscious brother up. But they hadn't walked three paces before both gods suddenly lost their footing. In a bizarre display of divine clumsiness, the three brothers tumbled together in a tangled heap of limbs and robes.
Perses and Pallas stared at each other in disbelief. A god slipping? If word of this got out, they would be the laughingstock of the cosmos. Who was sabotaging them?
"Oh! I neglected to mention," Hebe's voice drifted over, laced with a touch of wicked delight. "The unfortunate encounter of Lady Eos left a mark upon the Starry Essence. Under the shaping of the Laws, Lord Astraeus is now the God of the Broom-Star (Comet). Misfortune follows in his wake. The closer you stand to him, the more potent the effect."
"!"
The assembly immediately scrambled back, clearing a ten-meter radius around Astraeus. Even Perses and Pallas recoiled. The unconscious god lay in a sudden vacuum of space.
"...Dammit." Despite their revulsion, the brothers couldn't simply abandon him. Gritting their teeth, they used the Star-Spear to hook his garments, holding him at arm's length as they beat a hasty, undignified retreat from the temple.
"Now that the dust has settled and the Starry Essence is preserved, I shall return to the Underworld," Nyx said, rising from her throne.
"Noble Nyx," Zeus said, standing quickly. "A banquet is being prepared. Would you honor us with your presence and share in this joyous occasion?"
It was a transparent ploy. Zeus was desperate to curry favor with the mysterious Primordial to bolster his own chances of ascension.
"I appreciate the King's sentiment," Nyx replied coolly. "However, I find little joy in clamorous revelry. I prefer the embrace of the silent night." She was the Personification of Night; the quiet depths of the Underworld and the company of her soulmate, Erebus, were her true sanctuary.
"A regrettable loss," Zeus sighed, ever the pragmatist. "That you had to journey here personally for the Starry Essence is a failure on my part as King. I shall visit the Underworld soon to offer a formal apology."
Nyx merely arched an eyebrow, her beautiful face unreadable. This King is certainly persistent and thick-skinned, she thought. No wonder he holds the throne.
"Lady Nyx."
Hebe stepped forward, manifesting the Miniature Universe in her palm. The eyes of the gods were once again glued to the shimmering orb.
She handed the nebula to Nyx. "The nurturing of these planets requires a same-origin power. Since the star-crowned Uranus is lost to us, only you, the Great Personification of Night, possess the majesty to foster these nascent stars."
Hebe knew that keeping the stars herself was a liability. The potential profit was too great; it would only paint a target on her back. By handing them to Nyx, she ensured that the Underworld gods—mostly Nyx's children—would have a stake in the future heavens. It was a fair repayment for their hard work.
Nyx caught Hebe's meaning instantly. Her grey eyes flashed with approval and respect for her ally's wisdom and sense of justice. If she were the Sovereign, my children would not be so exhausted, Nyx mused privately.
She took the Miniature Universe into her form, her smile becoming slightly more genuine. "When these stars are ready to emerge, I shall return to this mountain to discuss their mandates with the Council."
With those words, the Primordial vanished in a swirl of shadows.
The trial was done, and the "main event" had concluded. The gods began to disperse—until a sharp cry shattered the peace.
"Ah!"
Aphrodite suddenly doubled over, clutching her stomach. Her radiant face turned deathly pale in a heartbeat. A pinkish radiance began to pulse from her womb. After a long gestation, the divine child was finally coming!
"Aphrodite!" "Aphrodite!"
Two frantic voices erupted simultaneously: Hephaestus, the husband, and Ares, the lover. Both gods rushed to her side, supporting her with trembling hands.
This bizarre "love triangle" in the center of the hall reignited the gossip-hungry hearts of the onlookers. Hephaestus being nervous is expected, but Ares? The recent rumors of their trysts were effectively confirmed in front of the entire pantheon.
Hera, watching from her throne, turned a shade of crimson. As the Goddess of Marriage, the sight of this "killing field" of a domestic crisis was an insult to her office. She glared at the unfaithful Aphrodite and her reckless son, Ares.
However, there was no time for a lecture. The unborn child was being exceptionally aggressive. The nascent god seemed dissatisfied with the essence provided; it was ravenously draining Aphrodite's divine power to fuel its own growth.
Under the child's suction, Aphrodite's perfect skin began to lose its luster. Her golden hair turned brittle and dull. She was being drained of her very foundation!
"This is bad! The child won't stop!" Hebe realized the danger. "At this rate, Aphrodite will fall from her rank—or even perish!"
Hebe hadn't expected Eros to be so tyrannical. Not only was he seizing the Essence of Lust, but he was also attempting to strip the Mandate of Beauty from his own mother. Whether for Aphrodite's safety or to prevent a fully-powered Eros from blocking her own path to the Primordial rank, Hebe had to act.
She flashed to Aphrodite's side. The power of Life erupted from her, blanketing the temple in a sea of blooming white roses. Thick vines tore through the floor, weaving together to form a massive, protective floral bower that shielded the laboring goddess from the prying eyes of the assembly.
"Move her inside, now!" Hebe commanded her brothers.
Ares, ignoring all decorum, swept Aphrodite into his arms and carried her into the bower. Hephaestus followed close behind, a dark glint in his fiery eyes.
"Mother, you are the Goddess of Childbirth! Aid me!" Hebe called to Hera.
"I am here," Hera said solemnly. Despite her anger, she would not allow a goddess to fall during labor—especially not her son's wife.
The two goddesses entered the bower. Aphrodite was in a state of collapse, her eyes unfocused as she lost the battle for her own essence. Hebe placed a hand on the goddess's brow, pouring a thick, concentrated stream of Life power into her to maintain her vitality. The unborn Eros immediately sensed the new energy and began to greedily absorb it instead.
"Aphrodite! Daughter of Uranus!" Hebe barked, trying to rally the fading goddess. "Do you truly intend to let your Authority be stolen? Do you want to die as a withered, ugly husk? If not, then find your pride! Fight for yourself!"
The jab worked. The Goddess of Beauty could endure many things, but not the loss of her allure. She began to fight back, clawing her essence away from the child. As the daughter of Uranus's flesh, her potential was vast; she had simply grown used to relying on others. In her "madness," she actually managed to reclaim her Beauty and a portion of her Lust essence.
"Now, Mother!"
"Newborn deity! Cease your boundless greed!" Hera commanded, her white radiance illuminating the bower. "The World has opened its arms! By the Authority of Childbirth, I command you: Come forth!"
A shriek of agony escaped Aphrodite. Pink light erupted from her womb, enveloping her entire form.
Hebe kept the power-lock tight. Her purple eyes shifted, turning a chilling black and white. Through the veil, she saw Eros struggling, resisting Hera's command. He wasn't finished feeding.
Greedy little thing... but you won't get your way.
Hebe's eyes returned to normal. Her Godhead of Childbirth flared. In an instant, she converted her Life energy into a potent labor-catalyst. Before Eros could react, he was flushed out by the surge.
Hum!
A silent boom echoed through the bower—a vibration of thwarted fury. But against two Primary-level goddesses, a de-ranked Primordial had no defense.
With a final, reluctant wrench, Eros surrendered the last of the essence and was born.
As a reincarnated being, he would forget his past and enter the world as a blank slate. Only by re-ascending to the Primordial rank would he recover his true self.
From the pink glow emerged a child who appeared to be five years old. He fluttered pure white wings, clutching a golden bow with a quiver at his hip.
He was breathtakingly beautiful. His peach-pink curls radiated a soft light, and his eyes—a mixture of sky and sea like his mother's—sparkled with gem-like brilliance. His skin was snowy white, his limbs plump and soft—the image of a perfect doll.
If Aphrodite was the peak of female beauty, the newborn Eros was the absolute zenith of childhood innocence and charm. One look at him was enough to melt the hardest heart.
The little God of Love let out a silvery, bell-like laugh, his joy at entering the world infectious. He flew to Aphrodite, nesting against her with a look of pure, angelic devotion. He had no memory of the greed he had displayed in the womb.
"Eros, the Little God of Love," Hebe whispered. "First-Tier Power."