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For ordinary deities, the world hadn't changed at all. Yet, the moment Bronze Humanity was born, it silently shook the hearts of many gods.
Whether it was the new gods who had tasted the Golden Apple or old gods like Helios who had been restricted to intermediate divine power for thousands of years, they all noticed the change.
Thus, atop Mount Olympus, in less than a century, seated upon a bronze chariot, Hades returned here once more.
Of course, perhaps 'short' wasn't the right word to describe it, since from his birth to now hadn't been all that long.
Gazing upon the Divine Palace that had been rebuilt, the God of the Underworld couldn't help but compare it to his own abode. He easily concluded that the surface was indeed preferable to the underworld.
It wasn't a matter of the architecture itself, but that Hades could use as many gemstones, as precious materials as possible to construct his temples, yet it would not change the desolate solitude of the place.