Pontus Euxinus, inside the palace of the Primordial Sea God.
The debate in the Mortal World had ended, and the illusory images shattered accordingly. As Andrea spoke within her mind, the gods within the Great Hall were similarly awaiting her arrival.
At last, the God of West Wind had invited the victor of the mortal assembly.
The destiny of the Golden Apple was about to be settled, yet the atmosphere inside the Great Hall remained heavy. The gazes of the gods intertwined, slightly distorting the air itself.
"Zeus, it seems the 'Arbiter' you found is not too fond of Olympus," said one.
"Even if it was just a temporary stance for the debate, the words she spoke do not sound like those from someone who holds faith in deities."
The eyes subconsciously swept across Phoebe, the Goddess of Luminous, as Hera clenched the armrest.
Why do the old things of yesteryear still covet their affairs? The current Chaos belongs to the era of the Olympian Pantheon.
