Years passed.
Olympus grew.
Not just in size—but in weight. In power. In presence.
What had once been a victory tower atop a mountain had become something else entirely. A kingdom. A seat of heaven. A flame that cast its light over all mortal lands and far beyond.
It didn't happen in a single day, but day by day, piece by piece, it came together.
Leto gave birth to twins—Apollo and Artemis. Radiant and wild. One, a sun of charm and archery, his voice able to sway both mortals and gods. The other, fierce-eyed and silent in the woods, a hunter and protector, moonlight in human form.
Maia bore Hermes, quick-footed, clever, a thief even as a toddler, but too fast to be caught. His smile was the kind that always knew more than he let on.
Mnemosyne's children—those daughters of memory, the Muses—sang through Olympus like wind chimes in a breeze. Every hall, every court, every temple echoed with their voices. They weren't just songs. They were history.
