Greek Myth: Zeus Wants Me to Be His/Her (XXXX)?????

"Sister Hebe, is there any way to save Eros?"

Amphitrite turned pleading eyes to Hera.

It was painfully clear. Eros stood no chance against Typhon. This wasn't something trust or confidence could solve anymore.

"In this situation… what do you expect me to do?"

Hera gazed at the monstrous Typhon radiating his terrifying demonic might, then shook her head.

Sure, she had her means of self-defense. But why would she throw herself out there and draw the monster's attention?

And it was Eros, of all people. That Eros.

Their relationship had improved a bit lately, sure. But that didn't mean she was about to risk herself to save him.

Even helping Amphitrite had been a favor, only out of respect for Oceanus.

"Please, I beg you! You must have a way!"

Amphitrite clutched Hera's hands tightly, forcing her to meet her gaze.

"Sister Hebe, no, whoever you really are hiding behind Hebe's name!"

"I don't know why you chose not to reveal your true identity to us. But I know, deep down, you do have a way!"

There was none of her usual softness on Amphitrite's face. Instead, it was filled with firm conviction.

She, who rarely spoke up before Eros or Hera, had long since seen through Hera's false identity.

Silence doesn't mean ignorance.

"…So you figured it out."

Hera's expression shifted, the pretense of a gentle smile fading away.

"But why don't you think harder? Why would I hide who I am?"

"Maybe I do have a grudge against Eros. Maybe I'm lurking by his side just waiting for a chance to settle that score."

In a sense, that wasn't entirely untrue.

"That doesn't matter!" Amphitrite said without hesitation. "In fact, that's all the more reason you should help him!"

Hera blinked, taken aback.

"Eros isn't like us gods. He's human!"

"If a human dies, they really die. If he falls into some far-off abyss, we'll never see him again."

If you want revenge, the person you hate has to be alive for that.

Her reasoning was slippery at best, but Hera didn't argue.

After all, gods don't truly die. Even Cronus was merely imprisoned in Tartarus forever.

So their feuds played out over endless spans of time.

And Amphitrite's words reminded Hera. She'd never really intended for Eros to die, not completely.

"…Fine. You've convinced me."

Hera sighed.

If Eros fell into Tartarus, she'd lose her chance to savor his misery.

For that alone, she could sacrifice this vessel of hers to lend a hand.

"But don't expect miracles. I can't beat that thing. I can at most buy you a little time."

She added the disclaimer. She'd come prepared to protect herself, not to fight Typhon.

"Time is all I need! I'll find another way!"

Hera gave Amphitrite a long look. For the first time, she thought: Oceanus chose well in naming her Queen of the Sea.

"Then let me give you a hint. Tear through that dark veil cloaking the sky, and Zeus will sense what's happening here."

With that, Hera flew toward Eros.

Hopefully, he wasn't already dead from that last hit. Otherwise, there'd be no point in helping at all.

Eros wasn't dead, not quite. But barely.

Buried deep in the cratered earth where Typhon had pummeled him, he slowly regained awareness.

His whole body felt like it was splitting apart. Bones broken. Organs ruptured.

Why wasn't I dead?

Then he saw it: a faint golden glow around his hand.

Athena's blessing had triggered in that instant, shielding him and mitigating the worst of the blow.

Without it, that brutal charge would have reduced him to dust, too dead even for Hades to claim.

All this for one mission? This is insane.

Despite the agony, Eros couldn't resist cracking a wry joke to himself, easing the tension.

His cells worked frantically to knit him back together, but Athena's protection was spent.

If Typhon hit him like that again, he'd be gone. No Tartarus. Just gone.

Maybe I should just play dead?

The idea had barely crossed his mind when those hellish red eyes locked onto him.

Right. Greek gods and monsters, they were ridiculously cautious.

So much for that plan.

"Did I kill your mom or something? Why so mad?"

If Typhon was hell-bent on destroying him anyway, Eros figured he might as well let his mouth run free.

By pure accident, he hit Typhon's sore spot dead-on.

"GAAAAA!"

Typhon's roar shook the air, nearly bursting Eros's eardrums. Blood trickled from his ears.

A hundred arms swung skyward, then came crashing down at him as if to drag the sky with them.

I'm dead.

Eros didn't need to think. He knew. Against Typhon, in this state, he had no chance.

But oddly, there was no fear. No terror. Just… exhilaration.

His blood boiled. Droplets from his wounds hissed to steam before they hit the ground.

This crushing pressure, this brush with death, it set something alight inside him.

He stopped funneling his power into healing. His magnetism and cosmos alike throbbed with the same need, release.

Fine, whatever it is, bring it on.

He called on everything, magnetism's rotation, cosmic force, the power of the sky itself.

He burned it all, life and soul alike.

With a wild grin, Eros threw himself at Typhon, the beast that could swat down the sky.

That's it. That's what was missing.

Fighting Poseidon had taught him much. But it had always felt incomplete, constrained.

Because deep down, he'd never believed he could die.

Without that, there was no true fire, no true growth.

Now, as his suicidal punch flew, his burning cosmos surged past the threshold.

Seventh Sense: Manas-Vijnana.

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