Inside the house, the atmosphere was tense and unsettling. The ancient serpent, invited to stand aside and observe, stood stiffly, feeling an invisible pressure pressing from both sides.
Unlike the half-playful, half-competitive matches between Samael and Themis in the past, the clash between the Goddess of Wisdom and the Goddess of Justice was a brutal fight on the chessboard, each move a ruthless strike, both sides launching rapid assaults.
Yet despite the bloody struggle unfolding in pieces and strategy, the two goddesses appeared calm and at ease, chatting and smiling as though nothing were amiss.
Samael, watching in silence, felt his bones grow cold. He kept his eyes down, pretending to be a motionless statue.
"The fall of Mount Othrys is only a matter of time. If you are willing, we can usher in a new era of order!"
"You should know well, justice is written by the victor. Only power can enforce your principles."
Metis advanced her chariot, speaking patiently.
"In this age, perhaps survival of the fittest is the law, but the justice I uphold has not sunk so low as to take sides in this unjust war."
Themis placed a knight in defense, her tone gentle but firm. Beneath the black veil, her eyes seemed to pierce through time and space.
"Do not forget, the God King who once ruled Mount Othrys had just overthrown the oppression of Uranus. He too was full of ambition, rallying the Titans to reshape the world.
But now, he drowns in wine and lust, even summoning monsters to fight in his court for amusement.
How can you guarantee that Zeus will not become another Kronos?"
Metis kept her faint, knowing smile, letting her queen cut into the heart of the board, striking deep.
"I believe my king will make the right choice."
Themis shook her head lightly, her calm expression edged with resignation.
"Face it, Metis. The same madness runs in our blood.
The gods will never lower themselves to pursue true equality or justice.
Plunder and domination—that is our nature."
The Goddess of Wisdom brushed it aside, gently stroking her slightly rounded belly, her eyes softening with unusual tenderness.
"That's fine. I can be wrong. I can make another choice."
Themis lowered her gaze, her expression shifting, her voice suddenly sharp.
"You're playing with fire!"
The silver-haired sage leaned back, her figure weary, her deep eyes drifting toward the stars, filled with unspoken meaning.
"Time is short. If the Titans wish to endure, they must choose.
An answer is better than none. Even if it is wrong, I will not regret it."
Themis' brows furrowed as she raised her voice.
"Metis!"
"Naughty. Call me auntie, Astraea."
Metis glanced mischievously at Samael, then winked teasingly at the goddess of justice across from her.
Samael's eyelids twitched violently, the urge to flee rising in him. If Themis lost her composure and clashed with the Queen of Olympus here, he would be caught in the crossfire.
This woman was far too dangerous. A master of provocation—staying near her was a hazard in itself.
To insist on being called auntie—this was like dancing in a minefield. Only she would dare.
Themis bit her lip hard, her face stiffening.
"Metis..."
"Hmm?"
"Aunt Metis..."
At last, hearing the humiliating address, the Goddess of Wisdom revealed a sly, satisfied smile, like drinking iced water in the scorching heat of midsummer. Her flickering gaze toward Samael now carried a subtler, more ambiguous meaning.
So, it seemed, Aunt Metis valued this little one highly.
Metis, lost in thought, idly pushed her piece forward. Across the board, however, Themis' composure had cracked. Her moves turned ruthless, abandoning open play for traps and killing blows at every turn.
It did not take long for Metis, still new to the game, to find her forces stripped away, leaving only a lone king encircled and dragged step by step toward execution.
Even the dignity of conceding defeat was denied her by Themis, who bore clear traces of irritation.
"Tsk, so fierce? I guess you really are angry."
Metis clapped her hands, leaned lazily back in the wicker chair, lifted her flower-shaped cup, and took a sip of crystal-clear dew. Her long, phoenix eyes tilted as she turned toward Samael.
"Samael, isn't it? I like this game—clever and entertaining. Why don't you come to Olympus and teach me properly?"
"Metis!"
Before Samael could speak, Themis abruptly rose, pointing toward the door, her voice colder now.
"You should leave."
So she couldn't handle losing? She agreed to call her aunt, but then backed out? How rude.
The Goddess of Wisdom muttered under her breath, stretching as she stood, casting a half-smile toward the goddess of justice.
"Truly won't help me?"
Themis stayed silent, her face cold.
"When balance lasts too long, it rots. Only when the old order is broken can a true throne be built upon the ruins.
Perhaps when enough blood has been spilled, the whip will no longer fall on so many heads.
One day, you will understand me."
Metis sighed, pulled her hood over her head, hiding her presence, and faded into the marsh's depths. Before leaving, she winked and waved at Samael.
"If you ever wish to come to Olympus, you'll always be welcome."
The ancient serpent wanted nothing of it.
This Goddess of Wisdom reminded him of Shamhat—trouble embodied. But unlike her, Metis was sharper, more reserved, her hidden secrets far harder to read.
"The true throne"? Did Greece also wish to forge its own One God? So helping Zeus was her choice?
And what exactly lay in the heavens? Clearly, Metis would not speak of it.
The ancient serpent's eyes flickered, unraveling threads as he pondered. Within this war between old and new gods, there seemed to be a crucial, hidden line. But with too little information, he could not piece it together, and so set it aside for now.
Meanwhile, the Goddess of Justice touched the still-warm black queen at her side, a silent sigh escaping her lips.
You guessed the beginning right, but miscalculated the end. The madness and cruelty in our bloodline are far more terrifying than you realize.
...
Days later, deep within the Cilician Marshes, in a cavern known as Arima.
An uninvited guest, hood drawn low, strands of silver hair slipping free, arrived quietly. She gazed into the cavern, where several crystal eggs, pulsing with divine power, were slowly hatching.
In the darkness, a pair of purple-red vertical pupils suddenly opened. The rasp of scales against stone followed.
From within, a figure with pale yellow wings and purple-red scales emerged halfway, its cold gaze falling downward.
"What do you want?"
"To make a deal with you. A deal that will decide the future of gods and monsters..."
"You should already have received the revelation, Serpent Mother Echidna."
Their eyes locked. The visitor lowered her head, lifting one crystal-clear egg, within which faint life stirred. She stroked it gently, murmuring softly with layered meaning.
"So, it's this child..."