Olympus
The coronation ended under uneasy skies. The gods dispersed in silence, the soft brush of sandals on marble echoing like distant rain. Metis stood quietly beside Zeus, her new crown glinting with cold silver light as she accepted whispered congratulations and solemn bows. Hera watched from afar, her crimson robes motionless in the cooling breeze.
When the crowds faded and Olympus returned to its restless quiet, Hera moved swiftly. She left the high halls through side corridors, robes whispering against polished stone as she passed columns carved with stories of old victories and older betrayals. Her sandals clicked with steady resolve as she descended into the deeper chambers of Olympus, where shadows pooled in cold corners and the air smelled of old incense and burnt offerings.
