~Hades~

The council sat around the table in Olympus, idly discussing matters of no great import. There was a sense of routine to it all—Poseidon and Hermes were bickering over trivial matters, while Artemis, Melinoe, and Hecate discussed ways to manage their respective realms.

I sat back on my throne, the golden light of Olympus flickering through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. It was a peaceful kind of chaos, the noise of my fellow gods filling the air, but nothing particularly exciting.

That is, until the doors of the council chamber flew open with a creak, and she walked in.

She was stunning.

Her long, golden hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, shining with an almost otherworldly radiance. Her eyes were the color of the clearest seas, a deep, captivating blue that seemed to draw you in. Her figure was perfectly proportioned, her skin smooth and radiant, like marble—flawless. She wore a gown that clung to her body, soft and flowing, yet it revealed just enough to make it clear that every curve of her form was as sculpted to perfection.

Her presence was magnetic, commanding attention in an instant. The very air seemed to shift as she entered, the room falling into a momentary hush as all eyes were drawn to her.

She smiled shyly, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink as she spoke, her voice like a melody that could make even the coldest of hearts melt.

"Greetings," she said, her eyes scanning the room, "I am Aphrodite. I... I wish to join Olympus."

The room fell into silence again, the gods exchanging uncertain glances. My brow furrowed slightly as I leaned forward, intrigued. She wanted to join Olympus?

"Very well," I said after a moment, my voice steady. "You will marry into the Olympian family."

Aphrodite's cheeks flushed further, and she glanced between Ares, Poseidon, Zagreus, and me. The way her gaze flickered between us told me she wasn't entirely sure who to focus on.

I cleared my throat. "You will marry one of the single gods here."

She hesitated for a moment, then nervously asked, "And who might that be?"

I smirked and pointed to the door just as Hephestus barged in, looking a little flustered.

"Uncle Hades, I need to—" His words trailed off when he saw Aphrodite standing there. He stopped, his eyes widening in surprise as he scanned her, then glanced between the others in the room. "Who's the chick?"

Hephestus, due to him being born the son of Aeolus and Hera had no deformities like his alter-self. He was handsome, with sharp features, and his physique was muscular in a way that spoke of years of hard labor in his forge. He bore no scars or imperfections—no physical traits that might have inspired disdain or pity, as his legend often suggested.

Aphrodite's face shifted in an instant from polite curiosity to something far more lustful. Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over with an almost predatory gaze, a smile playing on her lips.

I raised an eyebrow and motioned for Hephestus to approach. "Hephestus," I said calmly, "this is your new wife."

Hephestus blinked, then shrugged, as if the whole situation were of little consequence to him. "Fine," he muttered, turning to head back toward the forge. "I'll be back soon. There are some issues I need to handle."

Aphrodite, now thoroughly intrigued, followed him, trailing behind him like a shadow. I smirked, watching her go.

"Good luck, nephew," I called out with a chuckle.

The rest of the council, no strangers to the absurdity of Olympus, couldn't help but exchange amused glances. It was a strange union, but perhaps one that would prove interesting in time.

The room had just begun to settle, the gods exchanging their usual banter, when Hermes decided to break the silence. Of course, it wasn't a simple comment; it was another one of his playful provocations.

"Hey, Apolla," Hermes called, his mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Since Hephestus just got married, how about you marry me?"

Apolla, who had been silent up until now, shifted her gaze to him. The air seemed to crackle with intensity as her eyes narrowed. She drew an arrow from her quiver, her bow already strung in one fluid motion. "You're lucky I don't shoot you with an arrow through your groin," she said, her voice as cold as a glacier, every word dripping with venom.

Before anyone could blink, the tension broke as her arrow shot forward with blinding speed. Hermes' eyes went wide in sheer panic, but the arrow whizzed past him, grazing the air beside his cheek. He froze, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at Apolla. The room held its breath for a moment before the faintest of chuckles escaped from her lips.

"Maybe next time," Apolla said with a smirk, lowering her bow with deliberate slowness, as if savoring every moment of the stunned silence.

The hall erupted into laughter, even I couldn't help but chuckle at the spectacle. Hermes, still standing wide-eyed, finally let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Apolla had a way of making even the most confident gods second-guess themselves.

Leaning back in my throne, I couldn't help but smile at the chaos the gods created among themselves. However, the thought of Zeus still lingered in the back of my mind. His absence weighed heavily on me, and it was becoming more apparent with each passing day. Aeolus had taken his place as the King of the Heavens, but there was a strange sense of imbalance in the air.

Zeus had fathered so many demigods, and his death had closed that chapter. The great heroes from the old myths—Heracles, Perseus, Theseus—none of them would ever be born now. And even if they were, would they still carry the same legendary significance if they were sired by a different god?

Aeolus, for all his power, was off the table. He was devoted to Hera, happily maintaining his marriage and his place in the heavens. Poseidon, on the other hand, had always been a wildcard. Perhaps he or one of the other gods might step up to fulfill that role. But it seemed unlikely that any god would truly match the sheer force of nature that Zeus had been in his prime.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Even in death, Zeus was still managing to stir up problems.