─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆
❛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐔𝐒.
we have seen the worse of each other.
our souls are intertwined. he could be
a decaying corpse, and i will become
the maggots digging into hi...
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IN HIS DREAM, HERA APPEARED TO AGE DESPITE HER IMMORTALITY. Wrinkles marred her once flawless face, the lustrous hue of her locks faded into an ashen gray that whispered of how fragile the goddess had become since the last time he had laid eyes on her. Displeasure emanated from her ox-like eyes as they fixed upon Micah.
Leaning against the bars of her prison, Hera spoke, her words carrying a weight of consequence. "An eye," she declared, her tone warning. "For each act of disobedience, child, I will remove another piece of him."
The son of Hypnos let the last traces of his amusement fade, settling on the tiled floor beside his patron's cell. "I do not regret it," he assured her, thinking of the charred remnants of her temple at Camp Half-Blood. "You think I am the same boy who used to beg for your favor—"
Hera sighed heavily, her palm raised to her forehead in exasperation. "You are blinded by your own delusions," she replied, her voice darkened with contempt. "You speak and speak, but never listen to the wisdom of those who came before you. You will learn, one way or another, the consequences of your misdeeds. Throw all the tantrums you want. I will not give up on you, my boy."
"I have nothing to learn from you, my lady," Micah told her. They stared at each other through the earthen cage. In the hardened distress encased in her brown eyes, he recalled being twelve years old, aching for a parent to lift him from the ground when his legs grew too tired to carry him any longer. He had only ever receive Hera's cold directive, commanding him to rise once more and prove himself worthy to stand in the palace of the gods.
He isn't a child anymore. He sees Hera for the failure she truly is.
Ares taught him how to fight and conquer; Aphrodite, how to seduce and manipulate. Through Athena, he learned strategy and the discipline of warfare. Hermes showed him how to be cunning and quick-witted. But it was Hera who opened his eyes to the futility of the gods. Nothing she could teach him held value. His patron is incompetent—the goddess of family with a broken one, the goddess of marriage ensnared in a loveless union. The virgin goddess of childbirth, unable to cradle her children and love them as she longed.
Micah is older; he is above keeping worthless company.
Still, Hera smiled through the pain that furrowed her brow, as if she saw something within him that he had yet to realize himself. Once they rebuilt her temple, Micah swore to himself, he will raze it to the ground again.
"Share your thoughts with me," Hera said, her voice pleasant but imposing. The son of Hypnos allowed himself the fantasy of saying no—of spitting in the goddess's face and awakening to a world ablaze, condemned to annihilation as the prophet Jeremiah had predicted—but Sally Jackson is pregnant, and Percy has always wanted to be a brother. Nico just started 8th grade. The world could not end as long as those he loved continued to dream.
