Soft golden sunlight streamed through the windows of Damon's chambers. Hera lay with her cheek resting against the redhead's chest, one hand spread over his heart while her dark hair spilled in waves across his arm. She had been awake for quite some time—a habit developed after millennia of being a goddess—but for once, she had no intention of getting up. Instead, she simply remained beside Damon, listening to and counting the steady beats of his heart simply because she enjoyed it.
Damon shifted slightly and, without even opening his eyes, ran one hand gently along Hera's back. "You're thinking too loudly," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep.
"I'm always thinking." Hera lifted her head slightly as the morning light fell across her face. At that moment, she looked far more relaxed than usual, free of the rigid expression she had carried for so many centuries. "I don't understand how you can sleep so easily. Sometimes I find it almost impossible."
Damon let out a low chuckle. "A side effect of being mortal for so many years. You eventually get used to it." The redhead raised one hand and lightly tapped the tip of her nose, earning him a look from Hera that mixed amusement with affection.
The goddess leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before settling beside him again. Damon watched her for several seconds, still somewhat thoughtful. "Hera."
"Yes?" she asked, though the expression on the redhead's face was enough for her to immediately understand what he was about to say. Hera let out a small sigh. "I'm exactly where I want to be. You don't have to worry so much about me, Damon."
"I can't help it," he replied with a small smile. "I don't want to do anything that might end up hurting you."
"Don't be silly." Hera's voice softened. "I spent far too long beside someone who made me feel like I was nothing more than part of the furniture on Olympus. After all of that, I think I know perfectly well when I'm making my own choices." Her eyes remained fixed on Damon's. "You make me feel heard, loved, and respected. There's an enormous difference, and I intend to keep enjoying it forever."
At the goddess's words, a comfortable silence settled over the room. Neither of them seemed to feel any need to break it. Their quiet breathing was practically the only sound that could be heard as the morning sunlight continued to slowly spread throughout Damon's chambers.
XXXXX
On the other side, within the Void, where nothing existed but an endless expanse of gray, our dear Zeus could be seen completely chained at the center. His clothes hung loosely from a severely malnourished body, his bones visible beneath his skin, a far cry from the imposing figure he had once possessed as King of the Gods. His beard had grown so thick that it nearly hid his mouth completely, while his hair was tangled and disheveled. Lastly, his deeply bloodshot eyes made it painfully clear what kind of hell Zeus had endured.
Zeus had stopped trying to escape years ago—or at least he thought it had been years. He had lost track of time far too long ago to know for certain. At the moment, he was staring at a window in front of him, and on the other side of the glass he could see his wife. The same wife he had betrayed with countless women, humiliated, ignored, and taken for granted for millennia was now resting in another man's arms.
The window slowly distorted before showing Zeus a scene he hadn't seen in over a thousand years.
He saw himself at one of the ancient banquets, a goblet in one hand and a young lover pressed against his body while he toasted to her in front of everyone. The entire hall applauded while Hera sat on her throne across the room, her back perfectly straight and a forced smile fixed on her face. Whispers and mocking laughter could be heard around her, accompanied by Zeus's own indifference as he failed to look at his wife even once.
"Do you remember her?" Damon's voice came from the other side of the barrier, surprisingly calm.
The image changed again, this time showing Hera suspended from the heavens, golden chains wrapped around her ankles while her screams echoed throughout Olympus and the other gods watched from below. Zeus had left her hanging for so long that eventually her voice gave out, and when he finally released her, Hera refused to speak to him for centuries.
Damon allowed the images to remain floating beside the main window. On the other side, in the present, Hera shifted slightly in her sleep and one of her hands instinctively searched for the redhead's chest, holding onto him.
"Now you get to see her happy," Damon said.
Zeus pressed his forehead against the invisible ground as tears ran through the grime covering his face, mucus hanging from his beard in glistening strands. His whimpers grew louder as he began slamming his forehead against the floor again and again, blood mixing with the tears that continued pouring from his eyes.
Damon watched him for several moments from the other side of the barrier, like someone staring at an old animal that had long since lost its teeth. When he spoke again, his firm voice echoed throughout the entire Void.
"Feel it, plague."
XXXXXX
Meanwhile, in a guest room overlooking the gardens, Rhea lay awake. The golden morning light slipped under the curtains, and the sheets were ruined around her, stained dark in wide patches and plastered to her thick thighs.
She had spent the whole night with her own fingers between her legs. She'd come so many times she'd lost count of them. It felt good, and at the same time it wasn't enough.
Every time her son's face crossed her mind, along with the image of Hera and him together, shame flooded her. It should have stopped her hands cold. All it did was make her fingers move faster.
The Titaness sat up in bed, feeling her thighs slick, and stared at the door of her chambers. "I shouldn't want this," she finally murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. The silence of the room was the only answer she got.
Rhea let the air out slowly through her nose, then pressed a hand to her face. "Pff... and what am I supposed to do about it?" She combed her fingers through her hair, tangled and damp. "I can't even control my own thoughts."
She sat like that for a few seconds before finally getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom. She needed to clear her head. With any luck, the cold water would help.
XXXXX
A few hours later...
Damon was in the garden when Hermes landed in front of him in a small whirlwind of dust stirred up by his winged sandals. The two wolves lifted their heads from the grass almost simultaneously and followed the God of Messengers with their yellow eyes.
"Boss." Hermes briefly dropped to one knee. "The Aztecs responded."
"And?" Damon replied curtly.
"Quetzalcoatl will receive you personally. In Mexico." Hermes hesitated for a moment before continuing. "She made it very clear that she won't come to us. If you want that meeting, you'll have to go into her territory."
Damon tossed a piece of dried meat toward Orien before getting to his feet. "I don't have a problem with that," the god dismissed. After all, as long as he could personally meet the leader of the Aztec Pantheon, he didn't particularly care where the meeting took place.
Hermes grimaced slightly. "Boss, that pantheon has been dying for five hundred years. They literally have ghosts wandering freely through the streets, and the gods who are still standing are fighting over the few scraps of faith they have left."
"Well, when I returned to the Greek Pantheon, it wasn't exactly in great shape either, so I don't know what you're complaining about, Hermes." Damon's voice remained patient. "A pantheon that weakened poses no real threat to me."
Hermes blinked several times before giving him a slightly uncomfortable smile. "You're scarier than Zeus ever was, you know that?"
Damon simply shrugged. "I don't pay attention to nonsense like that. I'm just stating reality. Whether that sounds frightening to you or not doesn't matter to me."
With that said, Damon set off. Hermes flew beside him throughout the journey, and when they finally descended into Mexican territory, he landed only a step behind the redhead, completely silent as his eyes swept across their surroundings.
The instant Damon placed one foot on the ground, he could feel the sickly condition of nature itself. In simple terms, it was almost as though the land were slowly bleeding out, and the smoke-filled, oppressive heat hanging in the air did little to improve the situation. Damon wrinkled his nose slightly as he looked around.
Teotihuacan rose before him, older than almost anything mortals had built in that part of the continent. Damon began walking along the Avenue of the Dead, feeling beneath his feet the weight of countless ancient processions and the memory of millions of prayers and sacrifices that had once made this land sacred.
Then Damon noticed a figure standing at the top of the Pyramid of the Sun.
Quetzalcoatl.
There was no doubt it was her. The goddess was tall, with beautiful bronze skin shining beneath the sunlight. Gold and turquoise straps crossed her chest, while a short feathered skirt left much of her thighs exposed. Her figure was noticeably curvaceous, and the radiant smile on her face stood in stark contrast to the condition of the land she ruled. Damon had to admit that Quetzalcoatl was certainly beautiful.
As he approached, Damon couldn't help noticing that the goddess was completely alone. He had expected at least one other Aztec deity to accompany her, but he decided not to think too much about it.
"King of Olympus," Quetzalcoatl said once he came close enough. "I heard the Greeks finally found a ruler worthy of the title." Her eyes openly traveled over him before her smile widened. "And I see they weren't lying. You definitely look better than that arrogant Zeus."
Damon had a drop of sweat at her words. Seriously? That was the first thing she had to say?
The redhead cleared his throat slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Quetzalcoatl."
"Likewise, Damon. And thanks for arriving early," the goddess replied as she slowly began descending the pyramid steps. "I like people who don't keep me waiting. Shows they have nothing to hide."
"Hm. Thanks." Damon held the goddess's gaze before deciding to get straight to the point. "I only have one question for you. Why are your children ending up inside my pantheon?"
Quetzalcoatl's smile immediately disappeared. "Yeah... sorry about that," she replied with a small nervous laugh while scratching the back of her neck and stopping one step above him. "The truth is, those children crossed half the continent just to survive. Do you understand what that means?"
"That they have nowhere to stay here?" Damon raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, the Aztec Pantheon still controls a considerable amount of territory."
The Aztec Queen shifted uncomfortably under his gaze before deciding to be completely honest. She had nothing to gain by lying to him and, in truth, very little left to lose.
"They have nothing here. There's no camp, no training, not even real protection. A demigod in Mexico is lucky if they make it to adulthood. If the monsters don't hunt them down, the cartels do." Quetzalcoatl crossed her arms as her expression grew more serious. "So they head north and end up anywhere except here. And the ones who decide to stay, assuming they don't die, usually end up living miserable lives."
Damon remained silent and listened.
"And don't think we haven't tried." Quetzalcoatl's voice hardened. "We built a refuge in the mountains of Oaxaca, and it lasted nine years. We built another one in the jungle, protected by walls no monster should have been able to cross, and that one lasted even less. My gods are still capable of doing plenty, but there's a difference between possessing power and keeping everything running for centuries."
The goddess shifted her gaze toward the city. "It's difficult to fulfill our responsibilities when the Primordials who once supported our pantheon simply abandoned us. When faith began dying with the arrival of the conquistadors, they turned their backs on us. They left us with our domains hanging in the air and no roots beneath them to keep them anchored."
Quetzalcoatl remained silent for a few seconds before continuing. "A normal god can maintain their domain alone for a while, but without the essence of a Primordial beneath it, every year becomes harder. Everything we build remains standing only as long as we personally carry the burden, and nobody can carry something forever. We don't possess infinite power, Damon. We don't have infinite essence either."
"Look at the country." Quetzalcoatl gestured toward the land stretching beyond the pyramids. "Violence, poverty, corruption. Mortals look at Mexico and see a nation filled with problems. I look at it and see a land with enormous potential slowly rotting away." The goddess's usual smile had completely disappeared. "But a country can't heal if the gods who are supposed to protect it are fading away, and a god can't heal if the land and people meant to sustain them continue deteriorating. In the end, we both fall together."
Damon couldn't help feeling conflicted by her words.... It's one thing to fall because of an incompetent king, he thought. It's something completely different to have whatever was holding everything together ripped out from underneath you.....His own pantheon had come dangerously close to ending up in a similar state.
"I can help you if you want," Damon said, breaking the brief silence.
Quetzalcoatl smiled slightly, genuinely touched by his words, although she knew the reality of her situation too well to let herself become overly hopeful.
"I appreciate the intention, but that's impossible." The goddess slowly shook her head. "You're undoubtedly strong. I can feel it from here. But you're still a god. You don't possess infinite power or enough essence to repair an entire pantheon like that." Her gaze lowered slightly. "Maybe if we had done something when all of this first began, it might have been possible, but now... I think it's too late."
"Maybe you're right." Damon smiled slightly. "But there's nothing wrong with trying. And there's always another option."
Quetzalcoatl looked back toward him.
"I'm not going to promise that I can bring back the ones who abandoned you," Damon continued as he slowly raised one hand. The symbol of Chaos appeared across his palm.
Quetzalcoatl's eyes widened completely.
"Besides being the God of Creation, I have the blessing of more than one Primordial from my own pantheon." A small fox-like smile began forming on Damon's face. "I'm fairly certain I can convince one of them to give us a hand."
Quetzalcoatl fell completely silent as she stared at the symbol on the redhead's palm. Damon continued before she could recover.
"In the meantime, I'm proposing an alliance with no hidden clauses. The children currently staying at my camp will be welcome for as long as they need it. And if they ever decide they want to return home, they'll do so with both your blessing and mine." Damon slowly lowered his hand. "Soon there's going to be a summit where practically every important pantheon will sit at the same table, and I'll be walking in as the new king of one that many dismissed for centuries. Having your support would be useful."
At those words, Quetzalcoatl burst into loud laughter. The truth was, she was beginning to like this man quite a bit. "You come into my dying land and offer me a future without asking for practically anything in return."
The goddess descended another step until she stood directly in front of the redhead. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since someone offered us something without hiding a price behind it?"
"I imagine it's been quite a while," Damon replied with a small smile.
"It has." Quetzalcoatl's voice lowered slightly as the wind stirred the feathers of her headdress. "You have my alliance, King of Olympus. When that summit arrives, the Feathered Serpent will stand behind you." Her eyes remained firmly locked on Damon's. "And I won't forget the kindness you've shown to me."
Damon gently took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles in the old Greek fashion. Quetzalcoatl raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised and amused at the same time.
"Then let's not leave it at words," Damon said, still holding her hand. "Why don't we begin our alliance by building a camp? A real one, with the names of your gods over the entrance. What do you think?"
Quetzalcoatl blinked. "A camp? You and me?"
"Your hands and mine," the redhead replied while looking directly into her eyes.
Quetzalcoatl slowly crossed her arms, thoroughly amused by the way he had phrased the proposal. "You do realize my people can lift stones with one hand, right? We don't need someone coming here to build things for us."
"Hahaha, don't misunderstand me. Of course I know you can do it yourselves. You're still gods, after all." Damon paused briefly to organize his thoughts. "I simply don't see why I can't lend you a hand."
Quetzalcoatl watched him for several seconds before bursting into warm, genuinely surprised laughter that echoed between the pyramids. "I like you, King of Olympus."
The goddess turned around and began descending toward the plaza without looking back, simply assuming Damon would follow. "Then let's get started. I already know the perfect place up north."
Damon began walking behind her. Halfway down, Quetzalcoatl stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. "One more thing. If you plan on visiting often, you should know I'm excellent company." The goddess winked at him.
Damon simply smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."
After everything he had just witnessed, Hermes's jaw practically hit the ground. Especially after that last part. His utterly envious gaze settled on Damon.
How the hell does he do it? Damn it, man...
Hermes whined internally as he followed them, only to realize that somehow Damon had now dragged him into a damn construction project.
The God of Messengers muttered something under his breath about messengers ending up carrying stones and, resigned to his fate, started walking behind them.