In the lightless, soundless abyss, only the endless surface of dark water remained.
Hera’s eyes were vacant, her body swaying with the rhythm as though her soul had slipped away.
She felt betrayed, this went beyond physical contact or a few stolen touches. Her entire being, inside and out, now bore the mark of another’s presence. That imprint, the scent that did not belong to her, was stamped deeply into her body.
Even the depths of her soul had been stirred and left with no trace of purity.
This was betrayal in its rawest form, one she couldn’t even forgive herself for.
Sinking into that gray gloom of emotion, Hera beca numb to the world.
"This won’t do," Eros muttered, frowning.
What he wanted was thrill, not possession. He wanted resistance, emotion, struggle—not silence.
At this rate, Hera wouldn’t satisfy his craving for excitent.
After a mont of thought, Eros leaned close to her ear and whispered softly.
"No need to feel guilty. You’re not Hera right now... you’re Hebe, rember?"
A flicker returned to Hera’s eyes.
Eros continued, gently prodding.
"In this abyss, no one will ever know what happened. You don’t have to think about what your identity is. If in my eyes, you’re Hebe... then you’re Hebe."
"I... am Hebe?"
"That’s right. So forget the idea of betrayal."
Eros felt the tension in her legs slowly tighten around him. He smiled.
"Just enjoy the mont. When it’s over, hate all you want. Take your revenge."
"Besides, even if this didn’t happen, soday you’d still have to watch and Zeus together. Would that really feel any better?"
Those words jolted Hera back to her senses.
Without thinking, she bit down on Eros’s shoulder, hard.
The pain only made him laugh with delight.
"Yes, that’s it! Think of it as getting a taste on behalf of your beloved Zeus!"
He resud his movents, and Hera, though reluctant, reacted instinctively.
To keep herself from responding further, she clenched her jaw tightly, biting into Eros as faint sounds escaped from her nose.
The harder he pushed, the more fiercely she bit. Blood trickled down like drops of iron, keeping her tethered to reason, to sanity—keeping her from falling entirely.
Now this, this was interesting.
If she completely gave in, where would the fun be?
His [Cosmos] surged, swelling and catching fire with the passion of the mont.
"Burn, little Cosmos!"
"No! If you do that, I, mmph!"
At the climax of the burning [Cosmos], Hera arched her back, clenching Eros tightly as a strangled cry of anguish escaped her lips.
Though his body was trapped within her tight embrace, Eros’s mind soared outward with the flaming [Cosmos], bursting from Tartarus, crossing the five great underworld rivers, and ascending past the realm of the dead, resonating with every human’s dormant [Cosmos] across the earth.
At that very instant, new generations of humanity, naïve, barely understanding the world—froze in place.
They felt their spirits montarily connected to countless others, only for that connection to vanish as swiftly as it ca.
They looked around in confusion, sharing only a brief sense of kinship, nothing more.
Yet in that mont, Eros had linked himself with all of them, borrowing the latent power within.
His [Cosmos] ignited to its limits, and for a short while, he reached the realm of [Alaya Consciousness], a state beyond self, where "I" was no longer a single entity, but the collective will of humanity itself.
Death ant nothing to such a being. How could sothing like Tartarus hope to bind a will that was no longer singular?
His blazing [Cosmos] erupted from within like a burning sun, engulfing both him and Hera in radiant light.
As his awareness returned to his body, Eros opened his eyes and calmly slipped free of Hera’s arms, standing tall.
His expression was serene, like a sage who had glimpsed the truth of the universe or a monk erging from a century of ditation.
"Thank you. We can leave now."
Barefoot, he stepped onto the water’s surface and addressed Hera.
That sudden shift left her stunned. She only gave a dazed "Mm" in reply.
Gone was the mocking tyrant from earlier. This version of Eros felt almost... tranquil.
But what was that he said, "thank you"?
And why, despite the change in deanor, did he still not conjure himself a proper outfit?
Embarrassed, Hera used so torn cloth to shield herself and turned away to avoid looking at him.
Eros, however, scooped her into his arms without hesitation, holding her close.
Despite their proximity, his hands remained respectful, his gaze unwavering, which made Hera feel a strange mix of discomfort and confusion.
As he channeled his [Cosmos], the crushing gravity of Tartarus lost its grip. The abyss around them lit up with radiant energy as the impossible laws binding them were shattered.
Above the depths, guarding three iron walls, the hundred-ard giants stirred from their slumber.
Boom!
An explosion shook the depths, jolting them awake.
Scrambling upright, they discovered the barriers and darkness behind them had been pierced. The endless pit of Tartarus yawned open.
A beam of light soared upward, cutting through the darkness and shooting toward the underworld’s surface.
The giants were dumbfounded.
Tartarus had guards to prevent people from entering, not from escaping.
No one had ever told them soone might break out from inside.
They looked at each other, completely clueless. In the end, they just decided to patch up the wall and go back to sleep.
As Eros ascended the underworld river with Hera in his arms, he began to feel the limits of his burning [Cosmos].
The realm he had reached was only temporary. Pushing any further could harm the potential of humanity’s new generation.
But since they had already broken free from Tartarus, there was no need to waste more power.
Before the fla fully faded, Eros sent out one last gift, bestowing a seed of his [Cosmos] to all newborn humans as a blessing.
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