Because the records of Ananke, the Goddess of Necessity, actually originate mainly from the Orphic Hymns. And just like Ophion, this so-called primordial serpent… they were fabricated!
According to the Orphic theogony, Nyx is regarded as a triple-aspect goddess, possessing three different identities at once. She can be Ananke, the Goddess of Necessity; she can be Adrasteia, the Goddess of Natural Law; and she can also be Heimarmene, the Goddess of Causality and Fate.
Damn it. Doesn't that line up perfectly?
As Samael connected most of the clues and reconstructed the Orphic pantheon in his mind, he felt utterly disoriented.
If Ananke, the Goddess of Necessity, was just something cooked up by some deranged Orphic genius, then her consort, the so-called First Cause Kronos, must also be nonsense.
Of course, this supreme god of Orphism had to have a prototype in Greek mythology. But who was it?
Kronos, the hyper-primordial deity of Orphism. His essence was said to be beyond description. He descended as the First Cause, the root of time itself, creating Chaos and Order.
His power was singular and absolute, transcending all things, existing before the beginning, creating Chaos, Order, and everything else. He was often confused with the Titan God King Kronos…
Wait.
Time.
Space.
Authority over fate.
Eternity without beginning or end.
Samael lowered his head and stared at the cross spear in his hand, now transformed into a pitch-black scythe. The corner of his mouth twitched violently.
If he remembered correctly, the primordial serpent Ophion and the goddess of order Eurynome were meant to symbolize the god-king Kronos and the goddess-queen Rhea.
So being conflated with Kronos…
Who the hell wrote the Orphic Hymns?! Step out right now, I swear I won't beat you to death!
Tch. No need to think about it. Anyone who would dare dig under the foundations of the Olympian gods and undermine the authority of the orthodox Titan lineage… nine times out of ten it's that black-hearted little sweetheart from the War God's mountain.
Fine, this isn't a black-hearted little sweetheart anymore. This is a full-on suicide vest!
First Cause Kronos? Even Chaos, the true primordial god of Greek myth, has become my son now! What, you think your old man didn't die fast enough?
Athena, you're definitely itching for trouble again! I should've taken the placenta home instead of raising you. Sooner or later you're going to get me killed!
Having inadvertently glimpsed a certain possible future, Samael's face darkened like the bottom of a pot. Veins bulged on his forehead as he imagined hanging his treacherous daughter from a tree and whipping her a hundred times.
And there was more.
According to the Orphic Hymns, Ananke and Kronos were husband and wife. Which meant that Hecate and I…
The Ancient Serpent's brow jumped. He immediately snuffed out the line of thought. Facing the cold, gloomy Moon Goddess, he forced a stiff smile and took several deep breaths. Only after barely calming himself did he speak again, his tone grave.
"If I remember correctly, Typhon, the Demon Progenitor and heir of Tartarus, the God of the Abyss, could freely move between the Underworld and the human world, and his power was overwhelming.
"So even if the Old Gods struggle to break free from nothingness and obtain physical forms, once they succeed, they shouldn't end up like you are now.
"You can't leave the Underworld at all. And judging by your condition, even maintaining your form is becoming difficult, isn't it? Before long, you'll return to nothingness and become part of the rules themselves…"
Hecate pressed her pale violet lips tightly together. In her lifeless eyes, which rarely showed any emotion, a trace of irritation finally surfaced.
"The path of return for us old gods is nothing more than the pattern Zeus wove through the Spindle of Fate. You treacherous son of Kronos!"
What a scheming bastard.
The corner of Samael's mouth twitched as he finally saw through Zeus's plan.
Humanity's birth, followed by the rapid replacement and evolution of its tribes, had accelerated the decline of the Age of Gods. That old bastard Zeus had seized on this fact and used the Spindle of Fate to arrange the fate of a whole mess of old gods.
Those elder Titans who had grown weak and dissipated, or fallen into eternal slumber, had all been silently calculated into this scheme.
No wonder the Greek world was so "clean" now. Aside from the Olympian gods led by Zeus, the sea gods led by Poseidon, and the Underworld gods led by Hades, there were probably very few old gods left who could pose any real threat to Zeus.
And Hecate was clearly one of the victims.
What was worse, once the old gods weakened, that debt would most likely be placed squarely on humanity's head.
Borrowing a knife to kill and framing the victim while you're at it. Damn, that's vicious.
After piecing everything together, Samael cursed angrily. Once his temper cooled a little, he narrowed his eyes into a faint smile and stepped closer to Hecate.
"So you've got a grudge against Zeus. That's the real reason you helped me."
"…"
"Relax. Help is help. In return, I'll find a way to destroy the [Pattern] woven by the Spindle of Fate and deal with the hidden danger inside you. But in exchange…"
As he brushed past her, a thin thread of purplish-red blood slipped through Samael's fingers and quietly seeped into Hecate's unstable divine body. The life authority derived from Tiamat temporarily eased the sense of unreality plaguing her form.
Beside the Moon Goddess, the Ancient Serpent lowered his head. His expression grew cold, his gaze dark and threatening.
"…Don't touch my people. Otherwise, I'll send you straight back to nothingness. And if you're counting on Thanatos and the others to help you revive, then they can forget about living too."
Hecate frowned slightly and glanced at the two devotees outside the barrier, still completely unaware of what was happening and gazing at her with reverence. The hostility that had built up in her heart gradually softened into calm.
"I have no interest in clinging to existence by hiding inside a human body. However, they have received my divine blessing. If I can no longer maintain my existence, the power I disperse will naturally flow into them. The side effect is that they will develop a certain synchronization with the Hecate of the past. Even so, this will only benefit them. Don't think so poorly of a god."
Samael replied with a restrained smile, neither agreeing nor refuting her words. Still, the caution he'd been holding onto eased considerably.
Maybe he really had been too on edge, seeing hidden malice everywhere he looked.
After all, Diodorus's Bibliotheca Historica recorded that the sorceress Circe and the witch Medea were both considered daughters of Hecate. Even if the three of them weren't related by blood, the two girls were undeniably inheritors of Hecate's authority and witchcraft.
Feeling somewhat reassured, Samael was just about to formally propose an alliance with Hecate against Zeus and, for appearances' sake, swear an oath before Styx, the goddess of oaths.
…
Suddenly, the eternally springlike Pure Land of Bliss darkened. Lead-gray clouds gathered overhead, twisting into a churning vortex.
Whoosh!
A pitch-black cross spear tore through the air, snapping plants in its wake as its blade pierced straight through a figure's shoulder.
Overwhelming force dragged a sinister-looking middle-aged man backward across the nursery, slamming him brutally into an ancient tree and pinning him there.
A streak of black light surged in from the inner edge of the Pure Land, carrying a chilling aura. In an instant, it seized the man by the throat, serpent pupils brimming with killing intent.
"What… are you doing?!"
"Rot… rot with me… no one gets to leave this place…"
The middle-aged man's expression was crazed, his eyes filled with venomous hatred.
In the next instant, four pillars of black light, one large and three small, descended from the leaden clouds. Torrents of deathly energy spread outward, and every flower and blade of grass they touched withered away.
The Ancient Serpent's pupils shrank sharply. His divine will flared like a drawn blade, cleaving apart the surging gray mist and revealing several figures within.
At the front stood a middle-aged god whose appearance was nothing like the majestic, imposing Titans. His features were unremarkable. A magnificent helmet engraved with dark divine runes rested on his head, warping the surrounding space and rendering his form faintly translucent. The black longsword in his hand, still sheathed, carved deep grooves into the ground as he dragged it forward.
Behind him, three figures clad in black armor and outer robes stood in a horned formation, guarding his flanks.
"Awooo!"
At the same time, a ferocious howl erupted from the god's side. A three-headed hellhound, wreathed in pitch-black infernal flames and sporting a savage visage, bared its fangs at the intruders. Its slightly off-key growl carried an oddly cheerful undertone.
"This is forbidden ground for the living. You should never have come here…"
The middle-aged god's gaze darkened as he tightened his grip on the sword. With a cold, ringing sound, the blade slowly revealed its edge.
Those in the Pure Land who had been busy explaining the situation to the Heroic Spirits went pale, their pupils shrinking sharply.
Hades, the King of the Underworld.
The three Judges of the Underworld.
And the three-headed hellhound.
That bastard had found a way to alert Hades.
...
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