Beyond The Impossible

Olympus, 28.000 light years from Earth

Imperial Palace

Hebe rarely leaves her apartments beyond her ceremonial duties; she’s not particularly fond of dealing with mortals.

As the Goddess of Youth, it’s uncomfortable for her to be in the company of beings that age every single second of their life, losing a bit of her blessing each day.

Unlike most of her family, though, she doesn’t have contempt over them. If anything, she pities mortals for how brief their youth lasts.

Athena knew this about her half-sister when she agreed to elevate her to the position of Divine Empress: it makes secret meetings incredibly easy.

The Goddess of Wisdom kneels out of respect once she enters the throne room. She chose to wear her civilian clothes rather than her armor: if this were Earth, she could be mistaken for a regular businesswoman in a somewhat tacky golden office suit.

Helen of Troy is already there. Athena could have arrived first of course, especially since she was the one to call the meeting, but it’s preferable to give the demigoddess the impression that she has a slight advantage over her.

As it befits the most beautiful woman in the universe, Helen wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something as utilitarian as Athena’s outfit. Her silk dress outshines Hebe’s plain white gown.

Her beauty has no supernatural effect on gods, but she’s still wearing her plain white mask; possibly out of habit.

<Your Majesty. Helen. It’s good to see you, even if I have to admit that I expected it to be in a more suitable place… surely we have enough resources in our treasury for a better décor.> Athena comments, looking around the new throne room.

It’s certainly different from the room from which Zeus used to rule the Galaxy.

Hebe’s marble throne is slightly elevated above the floor, and the wall behind her is decorated by a magnificent mosaic representing the Olympian Galaxy… but other than that, it’s a plain empty room illuminated by simple candles hanging on the walls.

<I found the old throne room to be too ostentatious. And since Noriko turned into a museum open to the public, I figured my own throne should be a bit more utilitarian.>

<You still have two thrones.> Helen points out, looking at the identical seat of power right next to Hebe’s. Nobody has yet to seat there.

<Well of course. Noriko and I share equal positions. And yet, Athena, you insisted on keeping this a meeting between gods.> Hebe points out.

She might be only a few dozen millennia old, but Athena knows she’s wiser than her years.

<Given the nature of our discussion, it would not be proper to involve the Mortal Empress.>

<I agree, Athena. Which is why I took the liberty to involve my other divine vassal.> Hebe adds, just when the air fills with the distinctive aroma of roses.

Aphrodite appears out nowhere, bringing with her a cloud of perfume so strong that both Athena and Helen step away from it.

<Sorry I’m late! I told my lovelies to hurry, but you know how it is with orgasms.> Aphrodite excuses herself, adjusting on her hips the thin sheet of pink silk that passes for clothes.

<Or at least some of you know.> she adds, giving a disapproving look at Athena.

<This is to be a discussion among adults, Aphrodite. You want nothing to do with it.>

<I’ll have you know that I’ve had plenty of adult conversations!> Aphrodite pouts, placing her hands on her hips and as such fully exposing her breasts.

<Careful with those. They might have more neurons than what passes for your brain.>

<Is there a point to this meeting? Because if not, you two can continue your catfight somewhere else.> Helen chastises the two diametrically opposed daughters of Zeus.

<Oh she wishes she could get one. Daddy said I’m now allowed to sleep with my half-siblings, which unfortunately includes everyone in this room.> Aphrodite points out.

<And yet you married my brother Hephaestus? He was your half-brother.> Hebe adds.

<Your point being?> Aphrodite asks back, not seeing any problem with the contradiction.

<If I may get to the whole reason behind this meeting…> Athena says.

<Yes, finally, by all means.> Helen replies, rolling her eyes beneath the mask.

<We need to address what happened on Earth. Our entire galaxy was completely cut off from its capital for several days: I believe we should reconsider relocating Midgard City to a different planet. Or better yet, choose a more easily defendable capital.> Athena proposes.

<That’s policy stuff. Noriko handles that part of the job.> Hebe dismisses her.

<Not exactly. Such a decision would need to be taken by the Olympian Senate and approved by the Prime Minister of the Galactic Government. As vassals, we have no authority to directly influence the votes of the Senate.> Helen corrects her.

<Unusual for a princess of your rank to be so up to date on politics.> Athena comments, raising an eyebrow.

<I was the reason for the First Trojan War. I’ve been immersed in political intrigue all my life.>

<She’s right, Athena. But also, as Divine Empress, I don’t have the power to direct a vote.>

<But a gentle push from you would direct the Senate to the right position to take. You are not merely a figurehead, Hebe, you are supposed to represent the Galaxy as a whole. You certainly don’t want to give the impression that you’re just a puppet following Null’s orders, not to the mortal population… or to your vassals.>

<Careful, Athena. This kind of talk borders on sacrilegious.> Hebe reminds her.

<I find it intriguing that you’re bringing these observations to us and not to Null herself. Perhaps you no longer have the ear of your protégé?> Helen observes.

<That brings me to the second reason for why I asked for this meeting, one which is not fit to be discussed in the presence of Null. As you correctly reminded us all, yes, I was the mentor to our Mortal Empress. So my words should have considerable weight when I tell you that we should look for the next Mortal Sovereign.>

<Now that is treasonous talk.> Helen reacts.

<I’m not suggesting we remove Null from the position. But let’s be real: she is mortal. Her days are numbered by definition. In fact, given her tendency to place herself in grave danger, it’s almost mathematically certain that she will not reach the end of her full natural lifespan. In fact, I should remind you that she died shortly before becoming Empress.>

<We all knew about this when the position was created. We have been over this.> Hebe replies.

<The position was created as a compromise, not as a permanent solution, based on three distinct assumptions. Number one, Null would not make moves to increase her power; that’s one promise she kept, perhaps even too well. Number two, she would stop the constant infighting that plagued our Galaxy for hundreds of thousands of years. She technically fulfilled that obligation, but at what cost? Our Pantheon is weaker than ever, after losing Poseidon and Hades. Number three, Null would keep us safe from external threats… and that, I am sad to say, has been her failure.>

<Didn’t she win a war against three whole galaxies at once?> Aphrodite asks.

The other goddesses stare at her in disbelief.

<I’m surprised you even noticed.> Helen admits.

<What, war is good for sex! Half of my sector’s brothels would go out of business without soldiers. Or did you think I was into Ares only because he was hung like a centaur?> Aphrodite asks.

<Please don’t talk about my brother’s anatomy. Or about him in general. Ever.> Hebe tells her, using a rarely used tone that instantly clarifies it’s an order.

<My point stays. We might have triumphed in the War of the Six Empires, but for the first time in the past million years we are no longer safe against assaults from other pantheons. Marduk would never have dared to personally murder the leader of our Galaxy when Zeus was in charge.>

<Well duh. Daddy’s immortal and invincible.> Aphrodite shrugs.

<We can all agree that Null is not the perfect Mortal Empress. She has expressed the same sentiment many times, in fact. Why are you so insistent on this, all of a sudden?> Helen asks.

<The Sumerians and Egyptians are not the only ones we should be worrying about. And I’m not even talking about Null’s doppelganger Rei overthrowing Anubis. Null has, willingly or not, brought us into conflict with a much more dangerous adversary.>

<Ah, I see now. You are scared by the fact that Noriko defeated an adversary that completely outmatched you.> Hebe says.

<If you are referring to my encounter with the creature called Siduri, you have been misinformed.>

<No, I don’t think so. Enyo worked by your side, remember, and she works for my government: I know from a direct witness that all of your divine power was useless against Siduri.>

<This is the first time I’m hearing about this. A creature, not a god, able to defeat two Goddesses of War in direct combat?> Helen says.

<“Defeat” is a misnomer, but yes, Siduri was an outstanding adversary. And yet, she is just a drop in the ocean when compared to the power behind it, which has now taken notice of Olympus… the Celestial Galaxy itself.> Athena reveals.

<I have heard that name whispered in awe by my father. Null has updated me on the developments you mentioned, Athena, but she assures me the Celestial Galaxy doesn’t pose an imminent threat.>

<Just as she assured us about the Nine Gods. And yet, they have attacked us three times since she became Empress. We simply must look for a new sovereign that can prepare the Galaxy for the next crisis, instead of reacting to it at the last moment.> Athena insists.

<I’m not hearing a lot of concrete suggestions here. Do you want us to do anything specific, Athena, or are you just sowing distrust?> Helen asks.

<The position of Mortal Sovereign is non-hereditary, and Null has vehemently refused to produce a biological heir anyway. But she can propose a successor, that would then need to be approved by both the Olympian Senate and by us vassals.>

<If there was a mortal worthy of succeeding her, Null would already have proposed a name. She would love nothing more than to relinquish her position.> Hebe says.

<I fully agree. The only mortal I have ever considered worthy of ruling Olympus was Ulysses, but since his passing there is no other man or woman left. So I propose we make one.> Athena says.

<I’m sorry, what!?> Helen exclaims.

<We create a mortal suitable for the job. You’re too young to remember, of course, but we already did it once before. Hephaestus created Pandora on instructions from Zeus, and all the gods available at the time contributed something to make her extraordinary.> Athena explains.

<Didn’t we screw that up? And not in the fun way?> Aphrodite recalls.

<We can learn from our mistakes, as well as take advantage of Null’s experience and intellect. Just think Hebe: if we create the perfect sovereign, there will be no need to wait for a new one after a few decades… we can’t keep them young forever, but we can keep making new ones. Improving them, even.>

<I’m not going to lie, it is an… intriguing proposal.> Hebe hesitates, thinking this over.

Athena has to suppress a smile. That hesitation tells her she’s already won.

 

The Empyrean, outside the universe

Noriko Null watches the Nullbot placing the Twilight Mirror on the pedestal, right between the Tablet Of Destinies and the lantern containing the Soul of Kronos.

She’s not particularly happy of storing these treasures in the same place, but if even Abyss couldn’t find a way to break in, at the moment it’s the most secure location available to her.

Siduri is also there to watch. She’s altered her form now: still without a face, but she’s updated her skin to being made of Neutral Matter and she’s added a set of wings on her back.

<This creature serves you, yes? Like the vermin served the Usurpers?> she asks.

<The Nullbots are not sentient. I just don’t trust touching that thing again, it’s too unpredictable. In fact, I would advise you not to touch it either… you’re supposed to be immune from Drylon technology, but that mirror gives me the creeps.>

<Now that you are no longer under its effects, you will now follow me to the Celestial Galaxy to free it from the Infinity Wall, yes? As you promised?>

<You never told me you followed an entire freaking sentient galaxy bent on conquering the universe, Siduri. That changes things.>

<And yet you saved me, yes? You could have destroyed me like you did with Abyss, but you chose not to. Even when you know my role in serving the Celestial Galaxy. Why?>

<They call me the Slayer of Gods, but I’m not in the business of killing indiscriminately. The way I understand it, your boss has no way to attack this side of the universe.>

<Correct. Does that mean you do not intend to help me?>

<Not until I have all the variables. You were created to serve as an ambassador for the Celestial Galaxy… what would you say if I offered you the same position? You could be useful to convince your boss not to do anything stupid.>

<Yes?>

<Was that a question or are you accepting?>

<I am… considering it.> Siduri hesitates.

Noriko has to suppress a smile. That hesitation tells her she’s already won.