The grand hall of Olympus was alive with the usual grandeur, marble pillars gleaming under the divine light, and the air humming with the energy of the gods as they gathered for another council. The 13 Olympians were seated at the long, grand table, each god exuding an aura of power and authority. For the most part, the gods were on a relatively peaceful footing, especially now that Dionysus, newly appointed to the Olympian council, had settled into his role over the past two decades.
The golden chalices filled with wine seemed to glimmer brighter when Dionysus was around, his carefree nature contagious. Even Zeus, sitting at the head of the table, had grown somewhat fond of the god of wine and revelry, though he wouldn't admit it out loud.
But there was a palpable tension in the air today. The reason? Hercules. Again.
The son of Zeus had been strutting into Olympus with the same smugness he always carried, his muscles bulging with pride. He had just returned from completing yet another impossible task, but rather than returning to his father's side with humility, he had sauntered in as if he had conquered Olympus itself. He was known for his arrogance, but this time, something felt different.
He was challenging Aperia.
"I don't see why I have to keep explaining myself," Hercules boomed, his voice deep and thick with impatience as he crossed his arms. "The world was made for heroes like me, and you gods have only made it harder with all your rules and politics. Why not let me handle things, instead of sitting around and doing nothing?"
Aperia's eyes narrowed from across the room, her typically quiet demeanor giving way to a surge of cold anger. She wasn't one to get involved in petty squabbles, but the way Hercules spoke—like the world owed him something—was becoming unbearable.
"Do you think you're the only one who's ever struggled, Hercules?" Aperia said, her voice calm but laced with an icy sharpness. "Every god here has their role, their own responsibilities. You're not the only one who matters, despite what you might think."
Hercules turned toward Aperia, his face twisting with annoyance. "You should stay in your lane, Aperia. You're a watcher. You shape the consequences, sure, but you don't *act*. You haven't fought *monsters* or faced real danger. Don't lecture me about responsibility."
Aperia's eyes flashed dangerously. "You think your strength makes you better than the rest of us, don't you? You think because you've been granted physical power, you can walk over us like we're mere mortals?"
Zeus watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. He hadn't seen his son in this much of a standoff in years, and to be honest, he didn't mind the little bit of chaos. Hercules needed to learn humility. But he didn't expect Aperia to be the one to knock him down a peg.
Ares, who had been leaning back in his chair with his usual smug grin, sat up straighter as the tension between Hercules and Aperia escalated. He leaned forward, ready to fuel the flames. "It seems *Aperia* is about to show Hercules how to *really* fight," he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and mischief.
Athena shot Ares a pointed glare, but it only made Ares chuckle. "Come on, Athena. Let's see what happens when two gods decide they've had enough of each other."
"Enough!" Zeus interjected, slamming his fist on the table, his booming voice echoing through the hall. The gods immediately quieted, though a few were still smirking at the thought of an impending fight between Aperia and Hercules. "This is not the time for petty squabbles, especially among those who should know better."
Hercules stood taller, eyes locked on Aperia as if he were daring her to make the first move. "Why should I listen to you, anyway?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "I'm a *hero*. You're just... a god who thinks she's better than everyone."
Aperia's fists clenched at her sides, her chest rising and falling with controlled breath. Her usual calm composure was fraying, and it was clear that her patience was wearing thin. "I don't need your respect, Hercules," she said, her voice a low, lethal whisper. "But you will learn *not* to disrespect me."
And just like that, Aperia crossed the room in a flash of motion, her ethereal presence practically crackling with power. Hercules didn't even have time to react before Aperia stood inches from him, her eyes flashing with a quiet fury that sent a shiver through the hall.
"*Don't* test me," she said, her voice as cold as the void itself.
Hercules, for a brief moment, seemed taken aback. He wasn't used to anyone standing up to him like this. But pride quickly swelled inside him again. He wasn't going to back down in front of all these gods. "Or what?" he sneered, raising a brow in challenge.
The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a sword, and it seemed as if a fight was about to break out, when suddenly, a new voice interrupted the charged atmosphere.
"*Hercules*," Dionysus chimed, his voice lazily dripping with amusement as he sipped from a goblet of wine, "If you want to fight, you could at least make it a *little* fun. Just imagine how many wine-fueled songs we'll get from this." He raised his cup, casting a sidelong grin at Aperia. "You know, Aperia, I've got to say, I think I'm enjoying this. Hercules could use a little bit of humility. Maybe it's time someone knocked him down a peg. Just don't break anything too important."
Zeus chuckled softly, though he quickly regained his composure, seeing his son still glaring at Aperia. "Enough," he said more firmly, though there was an underlying smile playing at the corners of his lips. "This isn't the place for such displays. Everyone, sit down."
Ares, never one to back away from a confrontation, leaned over and whispered, "I can't believe *you* of all people didn't let this turn into a proper brawl. If I were you, I'd have let it happen."
"You would," Athena muttered dryly, rolling her eyes as she tried to suppress a grin.
Aperia took a step back, her eyes still locked on Hercules. She wasn't afraid of him—not even a little. But something told her that, for now, this wouldn't be the battle worth fighting. Not when there were more important things at stake.
Hercules, still bristling with irritation, crossed his arms. "This isn't over, Aperia," he warned, his voice low and threatening.
"We'll see," Aperia responded coolly, settling back into her seat as if nothing had happened.
The room went quiet for a moment, but a slight tension remained in the air. The Olympians knew that peace had been temporarily restored, but the undercurrent of rivalry between Aperia and Hercules would simmer for a while.
"Well, now that that's settled," Zeus said, leaning forward with a sudden shift in his tone. "We have more pressing matters to discuss. The mortal world is shifting again, and it's time for us to figure out how best to intervene."
Dionysus looked at Zeus with a playful glint in his eyes. "Let's just make sure it's *fun* this time, huh?"
The gods of Olympus, despite their squabbles, began to focus on the real issues at hand. Ares and Athena exchanged quiet barbs in the background, but even they could feel the subtle shift in the room. The Olympians, for all their differences, were still a family—a dysfunctional, bickering family—but a family nonetheless.