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... ngs of Baldr’s naming faded into the flicker of torchlight. Her crimson robes pooled around her feet like spilled wine, her dark eyes half-lidded in quiet calculation. Servants moved around her, pouring fresh mead into bronze cups and clearing platters heavy with roasted boar and barley bread. But Hera saw none of it.

She felt it.

By now, Olympus would be hers.

She could almost taste the quiet triumph blooming on her tongue – the sweet iron tang of a fate fulfilled. Metis ...

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At dawn.The light of dawn lingered, hesitant to arrive, while the remnants of the setting sun had long faded into darkness. Within the city shrouded in thin mist, the hidden churches in the shadows, veins clinging to the cracks in walls, the gnawing sounds echoing from the sewers, and the murmuring shadows...A lantern bearer strolled forward.

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