The night was bright with lamplight in the main building of the Hephaestus Familia's headquarters, on the top floor, inside the office reserved for its goddess.
Hephaestus, the red-haired goddess of smithing, sat behind a broad desk, head bent over the piles of paperwork.
The scratch of her pen across the paper was the only sound in the room.
She was focused on her Familia's affairs, her brow habitually furrowed.
Knock, knock-knock.
A rhythmic knock sounded abruptly, interrupting her thoughts.
"Come in." Hephaestus didn't look up, her gaze still fixed on the report before her.
The office's sturdy wooden door opened a crack.
A familiar little black-haired head, topped with a signature pair of twin tails, cautiously peeked inside.
Those big sky-blue eyes held an unmistakable mix of amusement and guilt as they quietly sized her up.
Apparently trying to figure out what kind of mood she was in today.
Hephaestus caught that distinctive black hair out of the corner of her eye. It took her only a moment to recognize who it was.
It was Hestia, who had freeloaded at her place for a full three months before Hephaestus had finally "thrown" her out.
A trace of resignation stirred in her heart.
"Hephaestus~ My dearest friend~" Hestia's voice was deliberately affectionate. Her face was wreathed in smiles as she squeezed through the doorway.
That contrivedly affectionate opening was all it took for Hephaestus to understand.
She knew her "dearest friend" too well.
Whenever Hestia smiled like that and spoke in that tone, nine times out of ten she wanted a favor.
Hephaestus finally looked up and gazed calmly at the figure whose smile was a little too radiant. She sighed silently.
Before Hestia could make any requests, she cut off every possible avenue in an even voice:
"Let's get this straight. I'm not lending you money, helping you find a Familia, or letting you keep lazing around in mine."
Hestia's smile froze instantly.
She puffed out her cheeks like an angry little pufferfish and made an indignant "pfft, pfft" sound.
"What's that supposed to mean?! Do you think I'm the kind of person who... who borrows money the moment she sees a fellow god?!"
She tried to sound more indignant, but it was all in vain.
Hephaestus said nothing, merely watching her in silence.
Her expression said it all.
Hephaestus sighed silently and returned her gaze to the piles of paperwork.
"If there's nothing else, I need to get back to my Familia's affairs." Her voice was calm and even, but her words cut into Hestia like a dull knife. "After all, unlike you, who doesn't have a Familia, I really do have plenty to keep me busy all day."
"Pfft—!!"
The remark struck Hestia right in the softest part of her heart.
Her legs gave way, and she dropped to her knees with a thud, clutching her chest as she let out a heartrending wail:
"Waaah—! That's mean! So mean!! Hephaestus, you're too mean!!!"
To have her pain at not having a Familia so casually exposed by her dearest friend dealt her a ten-ton blow to the heart.
But just a few seconds later, Hestia sniffled and drew a sharp breath.
She braced herself on the floor, then staggered back to her feet with an almost tragic determination.
"But!" She wiped her face vigorously, her voice carrying a trace of stubborn resolve as she pointed toward the door. "This time, I really didn't come because I needed something from you!"
"You didn't?" Hephaestus looked up again. This time, her single eye clearly reflected the half-open door behind Hestia.
A genuine flicker of confusion crossed her mind. Who could have made Hestia so serious?
Hestia took a deep breath, stepped aside, and pushed the office door all the way open.
In the dim light of the hallway, a figure stood quietly outside.
Clatter.
The quill slipped from Hephaestus's fingers without warning.
Its sharp tip struck the open document in front of her, leaving a tiny spot of ink that quickly spread into a glaring black blot.
Her gaze locked on the calm face outside the door.
Boom—!
Hephaestus sprang out of her broad chair!
The chair legs screeched against the floor.
Her pupils contracted. A raging storm surged inside her, almost leaving her unable to breathe.
How could it be him?!
Hestia spoke languidly, as if she still hadn't recovered from that emotional blow.
"Actually... Thor wanted to talk to you about something."
Hestia... had actually brought [the Unknown]... right in front of me?!
Hephaestus felt her scalp prickle!
Forget appearances—she rushed to Hestia in a few quick strides and seized her friend's wrist. She gripped so tightly that Hestia let out a pained "Ow!"
"Pardon us!"
Hephaestus hurriedly apologized to the figure at the door.
Then she practically dragged the bewildered Hestia to the farthest corner of the room, where they crouched together in the shadows.
"Are you insane?!" Hephaestus hissed through clenched teeth, her single eye fixed on Hestia. Her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with anger and lingering fear. "Why did you bring [the Unknown] here?!"
"Unknown?" Hestia rubbed her sore wrist, utterly baffled. "What unknown?"
Hephaestus was so exasperated she could hardly speak. She wished she could crack open that twin-tailed head and see what was inside.
"Have you really not heard the other gods talking about it? An absolutely untouchable [Unknown] has descended on Orario! Everyone's talking about it, and everyone's keeping their distance! And you... you brought him straight to my office?!"
Hephaestus spoke rapidly, every word laden with enormous pressure.
Only then did Hestia seem to understand. Her little mouth fell open. "Oh... that 'terrifying Unknown.' I've heard a little about it..."
Then she tilted her head, even more confused. "But what does that have to do with Thor?"
To her, Thor was just Thor.
He didn't seem any different.
Well, maybe... a little more confident?
The terrifying phenomenon the gods talked about and the Thor she knew simply didn't match up.
Seeing her friend's innocent, almost foolish expression, Hephaestus felt her vision darken. She nearly spat up blood.
This was bad. The [Unknown] was already at her door!
If one wrong word angered this being, could he wipe her headquarters—and all of Orario—out of existence with a single thought?
Seeing her friend turn pale and look as though she was "finished," Hestia hurried to explain.
"Oh, you're overthinking it! Thor's just here to borrow a forge! He wants to make a weapon for a child in his Familia. He just needs a good furnace and workspace!"
"Borrow... a forge?" Hephaestus paused. The tension in her nerves eased a little, and disbelief filled her eye. "He doesn't want me to... offer up my entire Familia? Or submit to him?"
Hestia gave a small, exasperated eye-roll and waved a hand. "Haha, of course not! Thor isn't that kind of god!"
She thought the other gods were making a fuss over nothing.
Once she confirmed that Thor's reason for coming really was so... "simple,"
Hephaestus's heart, which had been in her throat, finally settled back into place.
She let out a long breath. Even the cold sweat on her back seemed to cool.
Bracing her hands on her knees, she stood up, her legs a little unsteady.
After composing herself, she looked toward Thor at the door again.
That terrifying pressure that had nearly crushed her just now seemed... restrained?
Or perhaps he hadn't released it at all?
She couldn't tell. At least his stated purpose seemed harmless.
Hephaestus straightened her rumpled clothes, doing her best to maintain the proper bearing of a goddess of smithing. She cleared her throat, and her voice regained some of its steadiness.
"If... it's only a matter of borrowing a forge... then... naturally... there's no problem..."
She couldn't help wondering.
Did this [Unknown] know how to smith?
And just how skilled was he?
Before you continue