"How long are you going to keep doing that? I'm actually pretty busy right now. You're distracting me. Do you understand?"
Hephaestus's voice rang out sharply, tinged with impatience. Her singular crimson eye narrowed as she glanced down at the small Goddess kneeling in front of her, forehead pressed to the floor in a traditional dogeza.
Hestia didn't budge.
Of course, she's still like this, Hephaestus sighed inwardly, rubbing her temple. Her mind briefly wandered—back to the Banquet of the Gods, where Hestia had made quite the scene. So much drama over two boys...
She shook the memory away and refocused on the girl still bowed at her feet.
"What exactly do you think you're accomplishing with this?" she asked, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"Prostrating myself," Hestia answered firmly, her voice muffled by the floor. "Takemikazuchi told me it's the ultimate technique for apologizing and begging. Said it works every time."
Hephaestus blinked, incredulous.
"He really needs to keep that mouth of his shut," she muttered, irritation flaring again. She stepped away from her desk and stood in front of Hestia.
"Hestia." Her tone grew more serious. "Tell me why you're so willing to debase yourself like this. I want a real answer."
Slowly, Hestia raised her head. Her eyes shimmered with emotion, and her voice trembled but did not falter.
"I want to help Bell and Tristan. Bell's changing—he's growing stronger, more determined—and Tristan's right there with him, guiding him, supporting him. They've found a path… but it's not an easy one. It's steep, brutal, dangerous."
She clenched her small hands into fists on her lap.
"And me? I'm their Goddess. I should be their guide, their protector. But what have I done for them? Nothing! They give me everything… and I give them nothing in return."
Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward.
"I want to give them power. Real power. Weapons to carve a path forward when everything stands against them. Bell… he's always believed in me. And Tristan—he just joined, but he's risking everything to help our Familia. And I—!"
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"I hate it. I hate that I can't help them. I'm a Goddess… but I feel so useless."
Hephaestus's frown softened. She studied her longtime friend for a quiet moment. The bratty little Goddess who once couldn't go five minutes without embarrassing herself had changed—her words were raw, sincere.
With a small smile, Hephaestus crossed her arms.
"Trying to change, huh? All right." Her voice was firm but proud. "I'll make your weapon. For your child's sake."
Hestia blinked. Slowly, her expression brightened into a radiant smile, and she finally sat up, rubbing her reddened forehead.
"Thank you, Hephaestus!" she exclaimed.
"But only for Bell."
The joyful moment shattered.
"Eh? Why only Bell!?" Hestia whined, puffing her cheeks.
"Don't 'Why?' me," Hephaestus shot back. "I know exactly who your new member is."
She gave Hestia a pointed look—but instead of defensiveness, she saw confusion.
Her eye twitched.
"...You accepted him without even knowing where he came from, didn't you?"
Hestia looked away, scratching her cheek awkwardly.
Hephaestus groaned.
"Unbelievable. Gods, you're reckless."
"So, uh… what do you know about Tristan?" Hestia asked quickly, steering the topic away from her own lack of vetting.
Hephaestus exhaled slowly and sat back down, her voice lower, serious.
"Nothing concrete. Just rumors. Some say his entire family was wiped out by Ares Familia. Others claim he's a mercenary. But one thing is clear—he's the reason Ares Familia is in ruins now."
Hestia's breath caught.
"Wait… he did that?" Her voice trembled. She had welcomed someone into her Familia who had taken down an entire divine household.
"That's what I heard," Hephaestus confirmed. "And his weapon? That scythe of his? Not just for show."
Hestia's brow furrowed.
"It looks like bone… but I thought that was just its design…"
Hephaestus shook her head.
"It's made by Ptah. Another smith god."
"A rival of yours?" Hestia asked, trying to regain her usual cheer.
"Not really. But his followers love stirring up competition. It's annoying." She leaned forward, her voice lowering again. "I asked Ptah about it last week. He told me Tristan barged into his forge, demanded an audience. Ptah tried to have him thrown out, thought he was just another cocky adventurer."
Hestia leaned in, her curiosity piqued.
"But then Tristan knocked out everyone. His whole Familia. Even the level sixes." Hephaestus chuckled, remembering her own shock. "Then he walked straight into Ptah's private chamber, dropped a bag of bones on the floor, and another of Valis. He said—'I want a scythe made from these bones. Use what's in the bag. I'll pay whatever's needed.'"
"He said that… just like that?" Hestia whispered.
"Dead calm. No emotion. Ptah said it was like talking to a ghost."
"How strong is the scythe?" she asked again.
Hephaestus shook her head.
"Ptah made him agree not to share its abilities or the price. It's part of the deal."
She stood and picked up her hammer.
"Anyway, enough talk. Let's get to work—you're helping me forge this weapon."
Hestia sprang to her feet and hugged her friend tightly.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Just so we're clear—you're paying. Even if it takes you decades. Or centuries."
"Yeah, I know!" Hestia grinned.
But then, Hephaestus's tone darkened just a bit.
"One more thing. Be careful around Tristan."
Hestia blinked.
"From what I've gathered, he's just a broken kid looking for a family. But people like that… you never know when they'll snap. Always—always—stay cautious. All right?"
A shadow of worry passed over Hestia's face.
"All right," she said quietly.
Far above, unseen behind a workshop window, a figure in a nurse's uniform watched the two goddesses converse. The view shimmered—then shifted.
Elsewhere, deep in a narrow alleyway, I stood alone in the shadows—watching. Listening.
My eyes narrowed.
"So… Hephaestus knows who I am. And now she's warning Hestia to be careful of me?" I muttered, my voice low, sharp—laced with menace.
A beat of silence. Then—
"Geez! Why does everyone assume I'm gonna snap or something? I'm trying to change, okay!?" I whined suddenly, dropping the intensity and flailing my arms in frustration.
I leaned against the cold brick wall and stared up at the cloudy sky above the city.
"Still… I'm lucky." My voice softened. "That Goddess… she wants to help Bell and me. I just hope she won't start treating me differently because of what Hephaestus said."
A faint, rueful smile crept across my face as a quiet chuckle escaped my lips.