In the dimly lit halls of the Underworld's Core Section, the divine city of Nox pulsed with muted activity.
Soul after soul moved like wisps under the ever-glowing lanterns of judgment.
Temples for the great dead loomed in the distance, and the divine towers of the gods glimmered with ethereal majesty.
But not all was peaceful.
"Another petition?" Hera groaned, lifting a golden scroll from a table already stacked too high.
Her elegant brows twitched in annoyance. "This one is from a greater god complaining that the judging system is biased because he cannot be with his mortal lover."
"That's the fourth today." Hecate sighed beside her, her midnight cloak rippling even without wind.
She held a silver scepter that pulsed faintly with magic, indicating a new request.
Again.
"What in Tartarus does Hades deal with daily?" Hera muttered, setting the scroll down and massaging her temples. "No wonder he looks like he's aged five eons in the last decade."
