Upon the pale-blue surface of Mercury, the bright-eyed Athena stood in a rare moment of profound tranquility. The resonance of the star felt like a warm embrace, reminding her of the long-lost presence of her mother, Metis.
The Goddess of Wisdom raised her hand, her divine power rippling outward to harmonize with the planet's core. She guided the star to draw in the surrounding Chaos Gas, converting it into Primal Essence to fuel its maturation. In return, the star shared a portion of this essence with her, causing the Godhead of Wisdom within her to swell with newfound strength.
"Does Lord Hermes intend to merely stand there and observe?" Athena asked, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "The King has commanded you to share the stewardship of this star. Pray, fulfill your obligation."
"The King's decree is absolute, My Lady," a smooth, youthful voice replied. "But I would never dream of encroaching upon your sovereignty here. Without your consent, how could I dare exercise my power upon this star?"
Hermes manifested behind her. Wearing his winged helm and flying sandals, clutching the Caduceus, the handsome messenger wore a smile of practiced sincerity.
"You had the audacity to steal Apollo's cattle the day you were born," Athena countered with a dry smirk. "What would you not dare? Hermes, our Father was right about one thing: you are exceptionally clever. Though you are not a 'God of Wisdom' by title, your nature is inextricably linked to it. To think that the God of Deception could even veil the eyes of the King, leading him to believe you were a mere Second-Tier dependent."
Athena's eyes flared with divine light. As the deity holding the most substantial portion of the Wisdom Essence among the third generation, Hermes's mastery of illusion could not blind her.
"...Truly, nothing escapes the Goddess of Wisdom," Hermes admitted with a wry chuckle.
A ripple of power washed over him as the "mist" of his deception dissolved. His divine rank began to skyrocket, surging from an unremarkable Second-Tier all the way to the rank of First-Tier Upper before finally stabilizing.
"I suspect even our Father did not realize that the one who gained the most from the new generation of humanity was not the Creator himself, but you—his most 'trusted' son," Athena noted. Her lips curled in a teasing smile. Our Father is quite the failure as a god; his children are either plotting his downfall or keeping secrets behind his back.
"I simply followed the current," Hermes replied, undeterred by her irony. "Luck played its part. Had the King not released the shadows of human nature, my ascension would have been far slower."
The dark facets of humanity released from Pandora's box remained a lingering curse upon the earth, staining the souls of the new race. Unlike the previous generations, these humans were born in pairs and possessed the ability to procreate naturally. However, they began life in a state of ignorance. Without proper guidance, the seeds of evil within them—Greed, Deception, Theft—would sprout with terrifying ease.
As the Patron of Thieves, Liars, and Merchants, Hermes found his power flourishing alongside human proliferation. Combined with the favor he received as the Psychopomp, his strength had reached unprecedented heights. Yet, the wily god chose to wear a mask of weakness, content to "play the pig to eat the tiger."
"What is your price, Hermes?" Athena asked, cutting through the pleasantries. "The star is vast. You didn't come to my side just to exchange barbs."
"Under the guidance of Wisdom, my purpose is already clear to you," Hermes said, his expression turning serious. "Artemis has the aid of the Lunar Star. Her ascension will be meteoric. Once she secures the Full Moon, the King will certainly move to grant her the final Council seat. I require your aid to prevent that."
"You want me to block Artemis? She is a closer ally to me than you are. I will not sabotage her path for your sake," Athena stated flatly, turning back to her work.
"And if I voluntarily surrender my stewardship of Mercury?" Hermes whispered.
Athena's eyes widened. "You would give up a Leader Star?"
"I cannot remove my mark without inviting the King's fury," Hermes clarified. "But I can promise you this: every drop of Primal Essence feedback generated by my efforts on this star shall go to you. I will take nothing."
Athena hesitated. Having promised Hebe that she would eventually surrender the War Essence to Ares, her future growth relied almost entirely on the Godhead of Wisdom. The full control of Mercury's essence was a staggering bribe.
"I cannot actively block Artemis," Athena said after a long silence. "The most I can offer is my neutrality. However... I will secure an opportunity for you to compete with her for the final seat on equal terms. If you accept that, we shall swear by the Styx."
"Agreed."
Hermes smiled. On the surface, he was losing a star. But as the God of Insight, he had tracked Athena's long stay on Samos with Hebe. If those two were now allies, then gaining Athena's favor meant gaining Hebe's—and by extension, the neutrality of the Queen and her sons. As the God of Commerce, Hermes knew that an investment in relationships was the surest way to maximize profit.
The two deities swore their oaths. Hermes then joined Athena, pouring his sharp, agile divine power into the star to accelerate its growth.
Looking into the void, the youthful god thought of his mother, Maia. She was the eldest daughter of Atlas, the Titan condemned to carry the weight of the heavens. To save her sisters, Maia had surrendered her virtue to Zeus to conceive Hermes.
He remembered his mother staring at the distant horizon from her cave, her beautiful face etched with a sorrow that never faded. I will take that Council seat, Hermes vowed, clutching his staff. I will gain the power to free my grandfather and ensure my mother never weeps again.
The Shadow of Typhon
While the guardians were busy fostering their stars, a terrifying anomaly erupted upon the earth.
The "shadows" Zeus had released through Pandora had not only infected humanity; they had seeped into the very bedrock of the world, feeding a horror slumbering in the deep.
Typhon, the Father of Monsters.
He was a creature born of the blood of fallen gods from the Great Wars, absorbed by Gaia and fertilized by the embrace of Tartarus under the influence of the Laws of Lust. He was Gaia's final son—a nightmare existence that threatened to transcend even the Primary rank.
Typhon was colossal. His shoulders brushed the clouds, and his head scraped the stars. A hundred dragon-heads sprouted from his neck, each flickering with a dark-red tongue. From his brow and his eyes, fire erupted. His maws emitted a cacophony of sounds: the speech of gods, the roar of lions, the bellowing of bulls, and the baying of hounds—a din more piercing than thunder that echoed to every corner of the world.
His upper body was humanoid, but his lower half was a massive, writhing serpent-tail that shattered mountains with every twitch. His form was a forest of scales, wings, and fur, and his saliva was a lethal venom that dissolved the earth.
Gaia had long kept this Personification of Disaster sealed in the depths. But with the Mother of All in a restorative slumber, and nourished by the dark energy of human vice, Typhon had finally shattered his chains.
He did not come alone. He brought his wife, Echidna, the Mother of Monsters—a creature with the torso of a beautiful woman and the tail of a serpent. Though her combat prowess was not supreme, her talent for procreation was legendary. Together, they had birthed a brood of horrors: Ladon the hundred-headed dragon, the Hydra, Cerberus (who had since been "recruited" by Hades), Orthrus, the Nemean Lion, the Chimera, the Sphinx, and the sea-beast Scylla.
Typhon tore open the crust of the earth, leading his children into the mortal realm. Terrified, the new humans shrieked and fled as the monsters swarmed from the chasm.
The Outbreak of War
The deities upon the Leader Stars sensed the catastrophe. Abandoning their work, they descended from the heavens to confront the threat.
Zeus manifested with a blinding flash of electricity, hurling a massive Thunderbolt. The sky, earth, and sea trembled under the weight of his strike.
Hebe watched from the clouds, her eyes narrow. My Father's power is indeed staggering, she thought.
Typhon roared at the sight of the King. His eyes burned with the fire of the fallen gods—a primal, hereditary hatred for the Olympians. As the King, Zeus was his primary target. Typhon's dragon-heads exhaled torrents of flame that collided with the lightning, the two forces grinding together in a stalemate of raw power.
Heat-waves, lightning, and fire turned the atmosphere into a boiling cauldron. The world was screaming.
"This is bad!" Hebe realized. The collateral damage would erase humanity before the battle even truly began.
She spread her golden wings and dove toward the earth. Opening her Domain of Reincarnation, she enveloped the fleeing humans. She unleashed the power of Hibernation, sending the panicked masses into a protective slumber. Then, borrowing the spatial magic of the Archway of Reincarnation, she temporarily transferred the mortals to the newly stabilized planet Zoe.
She placed a protective barrier around them and commanded the planet's curious consciousness to keep them safe.
Returning to the battlefield, Hebe saw Zeus pouring his entire being into his lightning, hammering away at Typhon. The other Primary Deities were also channeling their powers, launching a coordinated assault against the Father of Monsters.
Total war had begun.