Hephaestus's murky eyes shifted slightly under the ambient azure light, meeting the pair of golden pupils in the adjacent cage that seemed capable of piercing one's soul.
At this moment, the gaze lacked the once lofty "divine" brilliance, replaced by a cunning glimmer.
He knew his half-sister all too well. Whenever she wore that expression, it usually meant someone was in serious trouble—in most cases, their enemies, but occasionally, it could also be her allies—
"...What do you intend to do?"
Hephaestus opened his mouth to ask, ignoring Athena's command to "shut up and listen," knowing that even though his voice couldn't pierce the barrier in front of him, she would surely understand what he was saying. After all, even this body was essentially under her control—despite Athena's frequent assurances that the "shells" provided to them gods were absolutely free.
But clearly, such words were meant to be taken with a grain of salt.
"What to do?"
As expected, Athena's thoughts bore a trace of sarcasm, "Of course, it's to leave this disgusting place, Hephaestus, our great god of fire and craftsman—have you really submitted to that guy? You laid everything bare, yet he just discarded you here like a piece of junk—"
Upon hearing this, the fire god's stout fingers instinctively curled.
"Then what else can I do?"
Hephaestus whispered with overwhelming restraint, "That man...no, he's practically a superhuman...we couldn't even entertain him—and you seem to forget, it was your choice to surrender, don't you now lack even a captive's awareness?" His tone was flat, as if recounting something that had nothing to do with himself.
"That was a mere expedient!"
Athena's thoughts suddenly turned sharp, "Listen, cripple, it was just a delaying tactic, and now I've already completed the first step of the plan, right? Less than a hundred feet from here, our target is blatantly displayed without any defense—that guy thinks he's foolproof..."
"That's your target, Athena, I have no interest in your schemes."
Hephaestus shook his head, his tone icy, "Or perhaps you should look around us; these restraints aren't that simple. The Secret Vault that powers them is virtually endless. Do you really think we can break free?" He wasn't exactly giving up, but the implication in his words was clear—how can you expect me to risk it all without even a plan?
You think we're filming some gangster movie?
Listening to Hephaestus, Athena didn't continue her anger, and instead shifted to an eerie calm—
"It's heartbreaking, my dear 'brother', have you forgotten? The same blood flows within us all. While you disdain him and I loathe him—we must admit that as a powerful...wizard, Zeus' bloodline has granted us some peculiar abilities..."
"What? Disabilities caused by inbreeding?"
Hephaestus retorted mockingly; Zeus is Hera's younger brother. Let's not even touch on closeness of kin, it's a pure orthopedic case.
Maybe the true "gods" aren't affected by these, but as I said earlier, these pretentious creatures are essentially just ancient wizards with bizarre abilities and clever minds, and the unattractive, congenitally disabled Hephaestus was clearly the unlucky draw.
"No, perhaps you don't understand yet, but my plan is simple—using the bloodline connection between us and my control over...puppets, my backup will be enough to break the confinement here, allowing us to gain the Secret Vault—the monster (referring to William) guarding the treasures will then be no threat."
Hephaestus blinked.
"Wait..."
"What?"
"I privately think there seems to be no moment needing my cooperation in this? Haven't you already connected our bloodline link? As for manipulating this shell..."
"No, I've said it before, there are no trapdoors within the shells provided to you—"
Athena's thoughts became incredibly 'sincere', "You can't judge based on simple prejudice and express opinions on matters you're unclear about. Did you forget? I am the goddess of wisdom, while the god of trickery is another..."
Isn't that because Hermes couldn't beat you... If Ares didn't have those strong fists, you wouldn't still be the war god...
Hephaestus fell silent, he genuinely couldn't discern whether Athena's last words were true or false.
"So, what's the price?" His voice was filled with distrust, "According to your style..." He paused, the meaning in his words was self-evident.
"Well, maybe I should ease your mind a little, my dear brother."
Athena's thoughts carried a hint of helplessness, "Given that, I need you to swear by the godhood of 'fire and craftsman' that upon leaving this place, you'll unconditionally complete a crafting task for me, and only one; after which you'll owe me nothing more." After saying this, she closed her eyes, seemingly awaiting his choice.
This condition sounded...not excessive.
For Hephaestus, as long as he returned to that forge, crafting would be like second nature. Trading one piece of work for freedom sounded like a good deal.
Then, a long silence spread between them; around, the bluish oval runes flickered in the darkness like countless eyes watching Hephaestus's somewhat exaggerated struggle. Under those azure 'gazes,' he nodded.
"...Alright."
In the Room of Requirement, William nodded as he sipped hot cocoa, while taking the Christmas gift list handed over by Dobby—
The usual trio for Dumbledore, the old chap needs warmth: scarf, socks, hat; for Professor McGonagall, a bottle of soothing magic potion; for Professor Sprout, rare herb seeds; and Professor Flitwick would get dragon skin gloves with a simple Iron Armor Spell; as for Snape... as per usual, a shampoo from the Potter Family—
For Lupin, some rare magical creatures as teaching aids; for Sirius, a Muggle motorbike...
As for the students... aside from Hermione, he'd uniformly gift them "Five-Year O.W.L.s, Three-Year Simulation" booklet he compiled during some boring time recently.
Then the bluish glimmer in William's eyes slightly dimmed, "It seems everything is settled."
With that, a satisfied smile appeared on his face.