The Otaenians were created to control essence and a special energy called Ether that they keep hidden from everyone,, but that didn't mean they were devoid of Origin. It lived in them, pulsing at their core like a celestial heartbeat. Lucian, however, was different. Exceptionally so. He was the only one among them capable of projecting Origin energy externally. A feat considered impossible even by the oldest of beings.
Disguised as a wandering merchant, Lucian gave a sly grin, a flicker of pride flashing in his borrowed eyes. The Winter Goddess, cloaked in a shimmering mantle of frost and divinity, stood before him, powerful, distant, and yet… intrigued.
"I would have loved to gift you this artifact, my lady," Lucian said, voice thick with feigned sorrow, "but you seem unwilling to let me enter." His eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging in mock defeat as he turned and began descending the grand marble staircase that led away from the golden gate of Olympus.
"Wait." Her voice stopped him.
It was cold, like the wind that sweeps across the outermost clouds of Heaven but laced with urgency. The goddess knew, instinctively, that there would be no second chance. The artifact glowed faintly in his hands. Soft threads of Origin energy danced like whispers of starlight, giving off a power she could hardly comprehend.
"What do you want, goddess?" Lucian turned, his expression painted with concern. Then, as if sensing a shift in the air, he flinched. "D-Do you intend to kill me?" he stammered, his voice tinged with fear.
The goddess scowled slightly, annoyed. "Don't be ridiculous." She dispelled her killing intent like smoke vanishing on a breeze.
Killing him would be foolish. He'd already promised her the artifact in exchange for passage. Breaking that pact, especially with an Otaenian, even one in disguise could bring the wrath of the Emperor or worse, the ire of the Mother herself.
With a simple gesture, she willed the gate to open. The marble shuddered, the mechanisms of Olympus humming softly with divine energy. The golden gate groaned as it parted slightly just enough for one person to pass through.
Clank.
"The artifact." She extended her pale, slender hand.
Lucian offered the gown without hesitation. It sparkled like the northern lights condensed into cloth, light as vapor, yet powerful enough to withstand godly strikes. As he passed through the gate, he paused, barely inside Olympus.
"I forgot to mention…" he said, turning back, "The gown can protect you from Pantheon King-level attacks but only twenty strikes. After that, it'll disintegrate. Against lesser gods, it'll last longer."
He vanished into Olympus, satisfied he had delivered on his end without any deceit.
"Thank you," the Winter Goddess whispered, humility in her voice. She knew now it had been Lucian all along. No random merchant could possess an artifact of Origin. Not one capable of shaping something from nothing. Not with that kind of power.
Creating the gown had cost Lucian dearly. Unlike essence or chaos, Origin wasn't gathered, it was produced within, slowly, like a divine heartbeat. It would take a full week to regenerate.
"Guess I just outplayed a goddess," Lucian chuckled to himself as he stepped into Olympus fully.
The air shifted.
The gate wasn't just an entrance, it was a teleportation device. A defense measure, beautifully masked in elegance.
Lucian arrived at Olympus proper. Before him stretched a kingdom carved from splendor. Streets paved with marble tiles shimmered like sunlight on snow. Massive temples loomed on both sides, their walls built from essence stones, each glowing faintly. The rooftops were gilded, shining like the crowns of ancient kings.
"How did they get this many essence stones?" Lucian muttered in awe. The divine energy humming from the buildings made the air feel dense, rich. Essence and chaos stones had once been Heaven's official currency. Now, Olympus used them to build. Zeus, clearly, was drowning in wealth.
"This is absurd," Lucian said, scanning the opulence. "Dad needs to increase their responsibilities."
There were countless gods without pantheons, countless areas in Heaven still needing development. This kind of wealth could uplift all of Heaven, build homes, technology, infrastructure. Instead, here it lay, concentrated in Olympus.
But he couldn't deny the beauty. Technology thrived here too. Hoverbikes and divine-crafted vehicles zipped past. Floating vending machines offered starlight-infused drinks. Even divine communication crystals blinked in every corner, proof Olympus embraced modernity.
Lucian floated down, observing the flow of life. Olympus had order. Even flight paths were regulated. Gods who preferred to float or fly stuck to designated air corridors, while divine chariots and vehicles raced below.
"Hey," Lucian called to a passing god.
The god turned, antler-like horns curling over his silver hair. His aura was gentle—a fey, likely once a beast now ascended.
"Yes?" the god asked.
"Where's the nearest hotel?" Lucian smiled warmly, doing his best to play the part of a newcomer.
The god blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Lane Street. Two bus stops from here. You'll find the 'Temple of Rest' best place for visiting gods."
Lucian nodded and rose into the air. "Thanks."
He moved swiftly, but not too fast enough to blend in. His thoughts wandered. He needed a base, a place to plan. Stealing ambrosia wasn't going to be a one-day stunt.
He grinned but his smile vanished the moment a name flashed in his mind:
Aphrodite.
"Please, let her not be here," Lucian muttered to himself.
They had… unfinished business.
And he wasn't ready to finish it.