I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Zafron pulled his head out of the water, gasping—not for air, but for clarity. He ran his hands over his face, expecting the slickness of water, but his skin was dry. No choking. No sputtering. Just… dry.

Beneath the sprawling canopy of the massive tree, the soft rustle of leaves whispered a calm mockery. His chest heaved as he processed the impossibility of what he'd just endured—or imagined.

"Well…"

The casual voice snapped his attention. Sitting cross-legged on a spread of fabric, Aurelia plucked a fruit from a basket beside her, her posture as serene as a summer's afternoon. "Oh, you're back?"

Zafron blinked at her, words failing him. His heart was still racing, his mind still spinning.

"What?" she asked with a teasing lilt, taking a bite from the fruit and chewing leisurely. "So… how was it?"

"How was what?" he demanded, his voice sharp, though he was more bewildered than angry.

Her gaze flicked briefly to the small puddle he had just pulled his face from.

Zafron followed her glance and stared at the innocuous shimmer of water on the ground. It was so small, so insignificant. The kind of thing you'd walk past a hundred times without noticing.

And yet…

Realization dawned, and Zafron's jaw tightened. "You knew."

She tilted her head. "Knew what?"

"You knew what would happen if I—" He gestured toward the puddle, his frustration simmering. "This was your plan, wasn't it? All of this! You brought me out here to… what? To toy with me?"

Aurelia gave a light shrug, unbothered by his rising anger. "I invited you to go fruit-picking," she said innocently. "You're the one who decided to stick your head in the puddle."

Zafron glared at her. "Oh, right. Because that's a totally normal fruit-picking technique."

Her lips twitched, almost breaking into a smile, but she held her composure. "You should've asked why," she said simply, taking another bite of her fruit.

"Why?" Zafron echoed, his voice hollow. He turned back to the puddle, his reflection distorted by the faint ripples. The question lingered, hanging heavy between them.

Aurelia leaned back on her palms, gazing at the massive tree towering over them. "This tree," she began, her tone softening, "and everything around it… Aphrodite planted them. That puddle you're glaring at—it shows your deepest desires. Not the ones you think you want, but the ones buried deep inside. The ones you don't even know are there."

Zafron snapped his head toward her, his heart thudding. "You went first."

Her expression didn't waver.

"You went first," he repeated, the pieces falling into place. "And you came out with… that?" He pointed at the fruit in her hand, incredulous. "That's your deepest desire? A fruit?"

Aurelia chuckled, low and dismissive. "Not everything has to be so complicated, Zafron."

'How simple is she?' he thought, staring at her. She wasn't even flustered. This was all a game to her.

He turned back to the puddle, the image of his parents burned into his mind. The laughter, the warmth, the sheer realness of it all.

"Why?" he muttered, his voice almost breaking. "Why would you set me up to see that? To see them?"

She sat up straighter, brushing her hands together. "Sometimes," she said, her voice taking on a thoughtful edge, "in order to get back on your feet, you have to heal the blisters under them first. And what better place to start than at the root?"

Her words stung more than comforted. Zafron shook his head, his fists clenching. "That was cruel," he said, his voice tight. "To let me see my parents again, to feel them, to hear their voices, only to rip it all away. You knew what that would do to me."

Aurelia sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The difference between desire and destiny," she said bluntly, "is that desire shows you what you long for, while destiny shows you where you're meant to go. You wanted them. The tree knew that. But did you stop to ask if you were meant to stay?"

Zafron swallowed hard, her words cutting deeper than he cared to admit. He looked back at the puddle, the ripples settling into stillness.

"I wasn't ready," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Aurelia's voice softened. "No one ever is, Zafron. But sometimes, the hardest truths are the ones that set us free."

He turned to her, his emotions warring within him. She met his gaze with a steady calm, as if daring him to argue.

"I hate this place," he muttered, dropping to sit on the ground.

Aurelia smiled faintly. "Hating it doesn't mean you didn't need it."

Aurelia reached into the basket beside her and plucked a fruit, holding it out to him. "Here," she said. "You've been through enough for one day. Take a bite. It'll help."

Zafron stared at the fruit, its skin glistening under the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree's branches. He didn't reach for it immediately, hesitant. 'Another trick?' he wondered. But the look on her face wasn't mocking this time. It was almost… earnest.

Reluctantly, he took the fruit. Its weight in his palm was surprising, grounding even. He bit into it, the sweet, tangy flavor flooding his senses. For a brief moment, the chaos in his mind dulled.

Aurelia watched him with a faint smile. "Feel better?"

He nodded reluctantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "A little."

"Good," she said, leaning back on her elbows. "Because you're going to need a clear head for what comes next."

Zafron's brow furrowed, the taste of the fruit almost forgotten. "Next? What do you mean?"

Aurelia tilted her head, her expression taking on a knowing edge. "You want to leave limbo, right? To go back to the mortal world, to the people you care about?"

"Of course I do," he said, his voice firm.

"Then let me ask you this." She sat upright again, her tone sharp. "Have you stopped to think about why you're here in the first place?"

Her question hit him like a blow. He opened his mouth to respond but found no words.

"You weren't summoned here," she continued, her voice calm but insistent. "No gods dragged you into this place. You appeared here on your own. That much Aphrodite didn't fail to mention."

Zafron looked away, the memory of Aphrodite's words clawing at the edges of his mind. She was right. He had come here of his own accord. After the fight with Steele, after pushing his system to its limits.

His throat tightened. "The integration," he murmured.

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

He swallowed hard. "My system," he said more clearly. "After the fight, it said something about a level-up integration process. That's when everything went dark, and I ended up here."

Aurelia nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "So, let me get this straight. You tore through your system, pushed yourself beyond reason, and landed here… because you needed answers."

Zafron's jaw clenched. "Yes."

"And now," she said, her voice softening just a touch, "you're upset that the answers aren't coming easily?"

His fists tightened, but he didn't respond.

Aurelia leaned forward, her expression serious. "Zafron, everything you've seen here—everything you've felt—it's not just some cosmic prank. Limbo isn't a place you pass through lightly. It's a crucible. A test. You're here because you brought yourself here. And until you figure out why, you're not going anywhere."

He let out a bitter laugh, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one trapped here with questions and no one to answer them."

Aurelia smirked faintly. "You think I'm not trapped in my own way? Trust me, Zafron, limbo doesn't discriminate."

He stared at her, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Then why help me?"

"Because," she said, standing and brushing off her dress, "whether you like it or not, you need guidance. Aphrodite might be off gallivanting on Olympus, but the answers you're looking for? They're here. They've always been here."

Zafron frowned, her words sinking in.

Aurelia stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You've got the tools to find them. All of this—your system, your strength, your willpower—it's not just for show. You just need to stop looking for shortcuts and start working for the truth."

He sighed, her bluntness cutting through his defenses. "Fine," he muttered. "Where do I start?"

Aurelia smiled, her eyes glinting with something almost mischievous. "That's the spirit. But first," she said, gesturing to the massive tree, "finish that fruit. You're going to need your energy."

****

In a chamber in limbo, Eros lay sprawled on a massive bed draped in silken sheets. His golden curls framed a face both angelic and debauched, the kind of beauty that inspired both love and ruin. Beside him, a figure stirred, a woman with skin like moonlight and eyes that seemed to shift colors in the low light. Her name was Lyara, a demigod who often found herself tangled in Eros's bed and schemes. At the moment though, her purpose ran deeper than lust.

Eros's hand trailed lazily down her bare back, his touch possessive, yet distant. His massive erection pressed against her thigh, the evidence of his insatiable nature ever present. Lyara shifted closer, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"You feel... distant," she murmured, her lips brushing the curve of his shoulder. "Your touch isn't what it used to be."

Eros chuckled, a low, lazy sound that vibrated through his chest. "Distant?" he drawled, his voice thick with drunken lust. "How can you say that when I'm right here?" His hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple.

She shivered but didn't let his distraction derail her. "You know what I mean, Eros. There's a wall between us. I can feel it."

His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "A wall? Nonsense," he murmured, his tongue flicking against her pulse. "You're imagining things."

Lyara's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back just enough to meet his eyes. "Is it Aphrodite?"she asked, her tone sharper now.

Eros's gaze darkened for a moment before a lazy smirk slid across his face. "Of course not,"he said smoothly, his hands sliding down to her hips. "Why would you even think that?"

She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "If that's true," she said, her voice softening, "let me read your lips. Prove it to me."

He laughed, the sound rich and indulgent. "You don't believe me?" he asked, feigning hurt. His hand slid up her thigh, squeezing lightly. "Besides, your powers don't work on me. You're only a demigod, Lyara."

She smiled faintly, a hint of mischief in her expression. "You're right," she said, stroking his cheek. "Perhaps there's no need. Maybe I should just trust you."

Eros groaned, rolling his eyes. "You're impossible, you know that?" he said, shaking his head. "But fine. There's nothing to hide."

Lyara nodded, a satisfied smile curving her lips. "If you insist."

Eros stretched out on the bed, his body gleaming like a sculptor's masterpiece in the faint light. "I need a nap before the next meeting," he mumbled, his voice already thick with sleep. Within moments, his breathing evened out, and he was lost to slumber.

Lyara watched him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, she reached for the delicate necklace around her neck. As she unclasped it, her form began to shift, her features sharpening, her beauty becoming otherworldly. When the transformation was complete, she stood taller, her presence commanding.

She leaned down, her lips hovering over his.

"Lips that tell no lies,

Bound by truth, no guise.

Speak the words, bare the soul,

Let the hidden make us whole."

She whispered, the words rhythmic and laced with power. Her mouth met his in a kiss that lingered for just a moment before she pulled back.

Straightening, she turned and slipped from the bed, her movements fluid and silent. Outside the chamber, in the shadow of a towering pillar, Hera waited. Lyara approached her and bowed deeply.

"My queen," she said, her voice steady. "The task is complete."

Hera's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Well done," she said, her tone regal. "Now, let us see how truth serves him."

Lyara straightened, the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips as she followed Hera into the darkness.