No light shines down in the land of Erebus, the darkest area in all of Hades' dominion. Within this shadowy realm lives the underworld's finest reapers, a vampire who feeds on waking, and a dark glittering sword that comes to weigh the souls of mortals in their final hour. Neighbours are they, the twins who rule over sleep and death in kind, though in spite of their separate lodgings you will be hard pressed to find the two apart for very long.

"I tire of this dreary lull, sister dear, your singing is beautiful and yet only serves to tire me. I grow weary, ever much so... hah, is it your intent to drag me under and have me as placeholder for your slumbering mortals?" The goddess of death, Thanatos, lays her head in her sister's lap and fights back a yawn with militant effort. Their competitive relationship usually only pertains to their statistics up there, in the world between. "I'll warn you that mine is not a palatable waking, I rather fear you might gag on the burden of souls I carry should you attempt to shoulder it through my napping."

The goddess of sleep, Hypnos, gives a lilting chuckle to her sister's warning. Where Thanatos' voice comes out low and husky, the tone of true reaper, sleep's words escape soft lips in a serene flow, her candour is perfect enough to seem genuine. "Hush now, sister mine, you're looking oh so wearisome as you say... it would not do to let you pass this free time of ours without seeing to this weight in your pretty head. Let me lift it for a while, won't you? It'll help you float all the way up into clouds so fluffy and hospitable."

With a tongue as sharp as the blade at her hip, and just as pointed, the incarnation of death responds: "Clouds are frigid things, I cannot imagine feeling relaxed were I thrust into one. At best, I would sail right through dry air and water vapour, at worst my skin would be at the mercy of ice crystals that kiss me far less pleasantly than these." Cracked black nails reach up and stroke across Hypnos' chin, finding those lips she uses as her most potent weapon, closely followed by a bosom which can only be described as positively divine. 

Glowing crimson eyes peer down at the provocative executioner in their owner's lap, at an outstretched arm Hypnos secretly craves more firmness from already. The goddess often misunderstood to be more benevolent than her sister on account of their respective roles and dispositions smirks against nails black as her heart. "Ah, do take care not to let the cloud-gatherer herself hear you speak with such disdain regarding her precious skythings." The single luminous wing protruding from the right side of Hypnos' head bends down to caress the backs of Thanatos' fingers sweetly. This protrusion is not the only difference shared between the two, despite them being twins borne of night. Where Hypnos' voice is velvety and tranquil, her sister's is throaty and very often smug. Where Thanatos' skin is deathly pale, resembling the sheet-white complexion of a ghost, Hypnos' body is kissed all over by the sun's gentle rays. Where Hypnos wears loose white linen that hangs loosely from her shoulder, exposing the right half of her sizable and inviting chest, Thanatos' black garb wraps over both shoulders and hugs her form tight. By one's side an ivory flute that would make the piper flush with envy, by the other's a sword of judgement wreathed in starry night. 

Where one is soft curves, bountiful flesh you could and would get lost in, the other is lean muscle and sharp angles. 

"Fuck Zeus." Thanatos turns her head in her twin's lap, attempting to use her usual mask of spite to obscure just how badly she enjoys the other's fingers combing through her bone-white bangs. The usually stoic woman's glare softens as she takes in the sight of overflowing auburn hair dancing down that naked breast, hovering inches from her burning cheek. When was the last time colour graced this pale face? The sound of crackling thunder can be heard in the world between, both sisters grinning at the Skymother's displeasure in having her name invoked so irreverently. 

"Shush now, silly, and let that hate in your heart slowly dissipate. Let it simmer in my lap, on a low heat." Hypnos giggles, knowing well just how flush her sister has become against her expert touch. Every inch of her skin has a soporific quality to its softness, the feathers sprouting from her head doubly so. "Next time you open your mouth, you're going to yawn. Just allowing yourself to exhale all that spite and malice for a little while, letting it float on high while you're busy drifting down into my warmth. Don't believe me, sister mine? Just go ahead and tell me how 'full of shit' I am, I insist!" 

Thanatos groans, noticing that her sister is in a rare playful mood, challenging death all too light-heartedly. The best way to win against Hypnos is to not play her game at all, but the white haired twin is bound by a sense of honour drilled into her during her training with their midnight mother. Hypnos spent those days snoozing through every drill, and Nyx has since taken a more distant approach to motherhood, hanging over their heads come sundown but never within the sisters' reach. 

"Do not test... aaahh... me." Death's cheeks tint darker, Hypnos' fingers twining into that soft white hair, deeper and deeper. Since when did the more vigilant member of their close pair allow herself to become so relaxed? She let her guard down, trusting Hypnos of all people not to take advantage. 

Rich burgundy curl paints across Hypnos' face as she strokes the other's hair with such pleasant touch, lulling her dark mirror with more pretty words as dulcet as they are dangerous. "I heard a yawn in there, dear sister, is somebody feeling sleepy? Hehehe, 'twould only make sense given that you rest upon the lap of sleep itself. Did you think yourself immune?" The hand that had been at Hypnos' lips falls limp by sister's side, Thanatos' chest starting to rise and fall more slowly, heavily. 

"What... aaahh... do you think you're doing?" Thanatos sinks deeper into the other's embrace as Hypnos' arms hold her close, deeper than one should physically be able to fall into another's hold. It's a little mesmerising to experience first hand the compelling comforts that the goddess of sleep is well known for, death yawning once again and wondering when last she allowed her eyes to flutter closed. 

"I suppose I felt compelled to sate my curiosity while we had a dry spell in our harvest, sister. I've mind to see how the sleep of our kind tastes when compared to that of slumbering mortalkind. That I chose my very own sister for this indulgence is... simply a matter of convenience, better to be opportunistic than leave the confines of my room. Our room, I should say, as you're sure to be spending the night given how drowsy you appear to be getting. My staunchly restless sister, all tuckered out and ready to 'hit the hay' as mortals oft remark." Hypnos becomes a new world of safety and comfort, her angelic voice already the prettiest sound in the world to the slipping sister in her lap. Thanatos, the soldier that she is, tries her best to keep her eyes open when yet another yawn grips her. Heavy, slow blinks spell a gradual end to consciousness as that fight she's known for dies out against the face of sleep herself. 

"Mmmgh... you're..."

"Trustworthy? Soothing? Yes, dear, I am well aware. I'd like your thoughts to slowly begin to empty out, one by one for me now, spilling all over these thighs that you could mistake for the most luxurious pillows you've ever had the pleasure of resting head down on." Another light titter, a dreamlike quality to the affectatious sound that brings a dizzy grin spiralling onto Than's own lips. The daze is a welcome one, much to her surprise, as she's getting far too relaxed to remember her fight. Fighting is the business of conscious fellows, those who rise to face the day. Thanatos knows only the sink, presently, loving the way Hypnos' touch and voice and warmth wraps around her naked soul and makes her feel adrift. Sleep is something else, to a woman who scorns its touch and now cannot deny the pull. What had she been so afraid of? She loves her sister.

"Hhhypnos... mmh..." Thanatos can feel muscles relaxing against her will. Actually it isn't that they sag against the orders she gives them, just that her will is well within the grip of another. Cloying, dulcet words that become sweet commands whispered gently into her ear. 

"That's a good girl, Than. So dreadfully sleepy for me now. Dopey, sluggish and mine. All the sleepers are my domain, and so you give yourself over to the hypnotic that I present. You love me, don't you? So there should be no trouble accepting that you're mine for the rest of this evening, little more than a stuffed animal for me to enjoy some rest and relaxation of my own with. Would you like that, sister mine, to be my plush sleep-aid as the linen slips and our bodies twine together as they once had in primordial times? Say you'd love it, please, I only want you to tell me what I wish to hear from now on. Twins can read each other's minds, so I know that you're in agreement anyway~ Say 'I'd love to be your sleepy doll, Miss Hypnos.' and perhaps I'll take you to bed with me in earnest." The auburn haired goddess feels more awake than she has in millennia, ivory heart pounding with a rush of excitement and satisfaction. Such a thrill, she should have done this much sooner. Thanatos is sure to forgive and forget, perhaps literally so should Hynpos take measures to fully wyrm her way into the other's mind and leave some seeds of her own. The goddess of sleep and her sleeper sister, left unawares. 

With some effort, Thanatos finds the strength to work the muscle in her mouth as she descends deeper and deeper still into this non-Euclidean body that never seems to end. "I... I'd love... aaahh, to be your sleepy doll... sssister."

"Miss Hypnos, I insist." The sister of death smirks, feeling emboldened by just how much Thanatos has turned into putty in her hands. It was even easier than she imagined, though she figures if it would blindside anybody it'd be Than. 

Death bites the air, better than the dust she must suppose. Thanatos can feel weakness flooding her very bones, a reverberation of calming voice making her body and mind comply with just about anything Hypnos might fancy a stab at. It feels impossible not to indulge her playful sister in this moment, her blush as radiant as the living. It is a mortal look that she gives her sister, despite the unnatural crimson hue in her eyes. These eyes behold such vulnerability, in all its glorious splendour, something the gods typically pride themselves on extinguishing in their path to ascension. Hypnos savours her sister's weakness, because she's rather taken with the traces of humanity that gods above and below should aspire to. Mortals are moreish, and right now Thanatos is an undeniably alluring snack. 

"I-I... I'd love to beee your sleeeepy dolllll, Misss Hypnosss..." Thanatos speaks with a slurring in her weakened voice, the words coming out as soft and purring as her benevolent reflection's. Her body is heavy as lead, sinking into endless pillows that sap her muscle of its prided strength. 

"Ah." Hypnos gulps, realising that she can deny her urges no longer when the submissive words strike her like a hammer against the anvil at her hips. Lust pools, blossoms, within its loose cloth confines, and Hypnos does nothing to deny its claiming of her. A desperate mouth descends as uncharacteristically firm hands cradle death's sinking head and pull her up into a smothering kiss. Ignoring the soft pant from her sister's parting mouth, Hypnos pushes her tongue deep into the warm cavern of drowsiness and lets the delectable sigh tickle her tongue in its vigorous plunge. The muscle fills the space hungrily, excess curling at Than's chin as all eight inches of slick pink want evacuates sleep's mouth to join another's. The longest tongue among her family's ranks, Hypnos reminds herself with some satisfaction, all the better to whisper siren call into the minds of mortals with. Thanatos is no mortal, and yet she seems just as receptive to temptation and its blissful conclusions in this moment. The long, splendorous muscle's tip slithers back out of Thanatos' mouth while it's body yet rests inside, snaking around to the other's waiting ear as she gives her dearest sibling a first hand taste of her true seductive power. 

"Mmgh... ghk..." With mouth still filled by that curling, serpentine mass, Thanatos gives a muffled groan that drives the other deeper into her lust addled state of sisterly experimentation. Nyx would not approve, which only makes Hypnos want to make their mother loom above while the two warm her bed as twisted pair. Spite can be a fine motivator, she supposes, but love is far more compelling. As the tip of her tongue dips into Than's ear and begins to lubricate her dreams, Hypnos thinks only of her love for the goddess in her grasp. 

"I'll take care of you now, you're always so weary. Trust in your dear sister to never let you go it alone again, alright?" Benevolence speaks thus, through mental connection wrought by that dream-dictating muscle coating the other in soporific spit. The tongue makes such terribly lewd noises that drive Thanatos further into her throes of unconscious ecstasy, wet slapping sounds that only intensify as Hypnos finds herself becoming worked up by all this excitement. Fingers part cloth to unveil dewy, ambrosia laden slit, Hypnos feeling absolutely no shame in pleasuring herself to the way she warps her sister's dreams. 

Thanatos dreams of dying. It is a short, sad dream in which one moment she is here and the next, she is not. This is not a dream that her sister sees fit to entertain, and so with a writhing of her tongue plunged deep into this realm she holds dominion over, the dream itself becomes the dying. Dying then dead, fading into filth with all the other wayward souls that decorate this Underworld's backdrop. A new dream is born, even if Hypnos knows that there used to be another god in place to handle these affairs. Sleep does not require admin, Hypnos assimilated that cretin Morpheus into her being centuries ago. Now all that remains is this muscle in her mouth, extending directly into her sister's place of dreaming with a slick coating to help it along. 

Thanatos dreams of doting. Doting on her sister, the only way she knows how: With sharp and intense affection, heady and intoxicating desire that drives her to be as rough as she likes. Hypnos is a masochist, having lived far too gentle an existence for all her life. Nyx only punished Thanatos physically because even she could see that the other twin wanted it to be her. That was her punishment. Thanatos dreams of passionate trysts and lovers locking lips, forced to recall every last intimate encounter she's ever had. Surfaced by the dream, Morpheus muscle moves the script and begins to override the women in Thanatos' life one by one. Piece by piece, old sexual encounters are beginning to lose form as they pool towards the bottom of the dream. Before long, the dreamer is submerged in old history, the essence of lust, desire and affection quite literally drowning her. Yet this is not a dream of dying any longer, and Thanatos learns to breathe so long as she continues to dote upon her sister. Hypnos is her oxygen, the liquid beginning vibrate around her in this chamber of dream. Deep breaths in and the goddess of sleep and dreams floods her lungs, death choking at first before adapting to the smother of sisterly love she can no longer deny. It's overpowering, overflowing, dripping down her pale skin and marking her a thrall to her incestuous cravings. 

Those dreams that had just lost form begin to reshape, Hypnos' loving whim rebuilding them into near perfect recreations of her sister's past encounters with Aphrodite's kiss. The dream does not lie, of course, and so when Thanatos is faced with remembrance that each and every one of these past lovers were one and the same, she accepts it as easily as the new air in her lungs. Hot breath of acceptance, against the cold truth that she has only ever loved her benevolent twin sister. Every single kiss in living memory, shared with the lips she was bound to from the start. Every romantic stirring in her heart, hitch in her breath, fluttering of lashes. All Hypnos. Only Hypnos. Nobody else has ever meant a thing, they only need each other. What is death, if not the longest sleep of all? They are one in the same, so it only stands to reason that they should share a bed, exchange the lust pooling between them, co-opt the oneness syncing the beat of their immortal hearts. 

"Than, love, I'm going to wake you up in a second. Do you promise to be mine, always?" Hypnos feels just as vulnerable as the mortals she had remarked on earlier, a rare bout of timidity swelling in her chest now that she reaches the final hurdle. 

"Of course, sister. You're the only girl I've ever loved..." Thanatos gives a distant smile, still lost in a haze of pleasant dreaming. A date in the world between Thanatos once believed to be with a mortal she had been oh so pained to take to the other side and feel the sting of rejection from after duty done. Now, she bears that weight no longer, instead remembering taking sister's hand in hers and singing till the night called them back into the world below. There was no rejection after Thanatos dragged her sister into Erebus, because it's where they belong. Actually, the only place that Thanatos knows she belongs is wherever her sister may be. Hypnos is her home. Her first and last kiss, a breath of new air that coats her lungs in passive acceptance at the changes to her chronology. 

You see, Hypnos is not the only one to have slain a god and absorbed their stain of natural law. Gods cannot die, but they may be cut down and forced to live within the shadow of another. The titan of time, Kronos, had earned the ire of her daughter Zeus. Gods often feud, but so rarely does this strife end in the closest approximation to death an immortal being can savour. Thanatos' black blade is the only tool capable of severing a god's limbs from their body, of dicing torso and neck until a jigsaw of deity remains lying in the wake of a once great being. Zeus gave the kill command and Thanatos had not the ability to disobey, Kronos was old and even time cannot escape the hand of death. The two go hand in hand, in fact, you could say they are one in the same. Well, now they are, and time's a surprisingly malleable thing. It is dictated by its keeper's memory.

So when Hypnos rewrites Thanatos' memories of previous lovers via deep insatiable dreaming, the hand of time begins to reach across and make it thus. With each and every heavy blink of Than's unwitting gaze, she actively rewrites her own timeline and that of the world itself to fit the narrative her sister feeds her. Hypnos is her lover, eternally so, and they'll never have to be apart again. 

"I'm so happy, sister dear, lover mine!" Hypnos retracts her tongue and licks her lips in succor of her spoils, a rewritten world in which now even she remembers the undeniable truths of their romance. Hypnos remembers their long days spent courting one another while avoiding mother's gaze, and nights than ran longer still with limbs entwined and lips pressed firm. Immortals are not born with the hymen, and yet goddess sleep recalls how her sweet death had certainly been trying to break something when they first made love. Than is a possessive lover, keen to tell her sister at the point of her blade that Hypnos will never feel the caress of another lest they desire to have their arms severed clean. Or messy, depending upon where on her dear sister the poor miscreant dared to lay their hand.

Thanatos blinks slowly, returning to consciousness in a slow upward drift and staring up into the twinkling eyes of her one and only. Red reflects red, Thanatos springing to action in a sudden burst of energy. Hypnos gasps, letting the other twin straddle her and lean in close. Her eyes fall shut expecting a kiss before she remembers that, by design, Thanatos is not a gentle lover. As the architect of this sharp affection, Hypnos has no room, nor cause, to complain about the fangs presently sinking into her shoulder. 

"Ahhn~ That's...." 

"It'll heal quickly, love, you know my aftercare is second to none. Time heals all wounds, dear sister." Thanatos snickers as she runs accelerating tongue over the broken skin to instantly heal it. Now for the real fun. "Do you not think me privy to the stunt you just pulled on my mind, our very timeline? I... well, I won't complain, I love you too much to ever consider reversing this selfish act of yours. So instead I'll punish you for it, just a little, in exactly the manner I know you wish me to. See how smitten I am? Even when intending to admonish you I only end up giving my greedy lover exactly what she desires, I do suppose this makes me your fool. I'll have you shivering like mine anyway, a little roleplay never hurt anyone~" Both sisters cannot help but exchange dry, knowing smirks at such a poorly phrased remark. It will hurt, but only so much as it produces fresh, sick hot pleasure from the pain. 

Hypnos shudders pre-emptively as she watches her sister reach for the glimmering black sword ever at her hip, drawing it in a fine sheen of glossy midnight. Nyx is unwillingly present in their act now, and neither of the lovestruck twin sisters are remotely deterred by this fact. Instead, it only brings them further satisfaction. 

"Will you be gentle, sister?" Hypnos presents a practiced, seductive lipbite as though intending to offer it up for barter. Doesn't she know that her sister's a thief in this moment? Death takes as it pleases, raising its hand and wielding an instrument of genuine peril as little more than an accessory to their love. A toy to be played with, despite how deep it can cut should the wielder drive it with killing intent. Thanatos moves slow, dragging the flat end of that abyssal blade over her lover's bare shoulder and slipping it beneath the strap of cloth holding up her loose garb. 

"I wouldn't dream of it, love." Goddess death jerks her arm and in one clean cut, the cloth is falling down towards the woman's waist, which death yet straddles comfortably. Weight throws itself forwards and Thanatos is soon pinning her sister down on their bedroom floor. That they were neighbours is a detail of a timeline no longer in use, these sisters have only one dwelling, and bed, between the both of them. The sword's obsidian glint is utterly hypnotic to the woman who urged it out of its sheath with dreams of her own, Hypnos staring with undivided attention as Thanatos lowers its sharp edge towards her newly exposed breast and slowly scrapes it over the supple flesh. 

"O-Oh, g-g-gosh, that's..." Sister Hypnos lets out a gasp nearly as sharp as her twin's teasing blade, staring down at reddening skin and feeling slicker than she had thought herself capable of becoming. It feels like honey sticks between her legs, and surely her thoughts too, as she watches her sister's long nails clamp around the nipple of the same sore breast and tweak her into an obliterative delirium. 

"You can handle more than this, can't you? You wanted this, sister, I love you so much now that all I care about is giving you what you want. Damn the soul of every mortal in the world between if I have to, pleasing you is the greatest calling a macabre thing like me can hope to accomplish. Fuck... I need you to moan for me, I need to be more cutthroat don't I?"

Hypnos is at a loss for words, her greatest fantasy playing out in front of her in a more dazzling display than she could have ever hoped for. All she can do is nod, shamelessly, needing to feel that razor's edge forcing her into compliance and leaving her completely at her sister's well conditioned mercy. 

The blade turns and strokes safely up her cleavage, it's cold edge making her shiver even when the cutting side is facing away. Thanatos trails it higher until it rests at the woman's throat, quickly twisting it to threaten something dark and terrifying. The fear is part of the fun, Hypnos concedes, her body becoming oh so tense against that sharpness tickling buzzing skin. 

"I want you to kiss me, dear Hypnos, but you're going to have to be careful~" That cold, black smirk of death incarnate has Hypnos ready to die for her should it prove the depths of her affection and desire. Instead she simply plunges a hand between her legs in desperate motion, Thanatos quickly grabbing the naughty wrist with her own free hand and digging nails into the other's soft skin. The hand, content that it has made its point that Hypnos' pleasure is not her own to dictate in this moment, then proceeds to nestle in the very place Hypnos had been aiming for. Fingers like claws begin to carefully administer pleasure to the begging sister's weeping cunt, slow and steady down there while their play above the shoulders is far more intense. That sting against Hypnos' throat is adrenaline, her breath coming out ragged in excitement and something more primal: panting breaths that make her feel willing victim to her sister's sadistic affection. Fear doesn't grip her, death does, holding her sex with loving flicks and nicking her skin with executioner's tool. 

"Y-Yes, sister!" Hypnos gulps and feels the way her throat moves against that razor edge, her body slowly leaning forward to reach lips on the other side. Trust is all she has to ensure that Thanatos will not simply hold firm and allow her rending instrument to sink deep into the immortal's neck, that she won't make it a stump and claim her lover's head an eternal trophy. Hypnos does have trust, better yet, faith, that allows her body to move in cautious arc towards the cloying smugness awaiting her. A thin line of candy red strolls down into her cleavage as Hypnos pushes that blade back and claims her sister's lips once more, kissing her with the hunger of a dying animal. In truth, the cut is impossibly shallow, an immortal's cherry red essence little more than a mechanism to trick mortals with. And yet, her pretentious ivory thumper pounds loud enough to hear, Hypnos giggling into the kiss as she loses herself against the other's tongue. Such pleasure is enough to salve the sting at her neck, Thanatos keeping the blade held steady as she assesses her lover's devotion with pain and pleasure in tandem. 

"I mmgh... I love you, sis, nobody else is this fucking depraved." Thanatos removes the blade from Hypnos' throat and this time, uses her dominion over Kronos to keep the mark there for longer than an immortal should rightly bare a scar. It'll be a sign of her devotion, their passion, a constant trickle that only Than can see to. The goddess of death pushes sharp fingers ever deeper into her sister's needy sex as she drags her tongue over the line of red painting sleep's front, lapping up the evidence of their constant affair. "You'll need me by your side always, to see to it that you're not staining your lovely white clothes. Let my tainted mouth hide all evidence of your own filthy desire, before it taints my dear sister's purity~ I'll be beside you, always, making sure it does not trickle down too far."

Hypnos buckles her hips and feels her mind go white hot with pleasure and satisfaction, her sister's demeaning punishment making her feel like the reckless painslut she is. Markings that only heal at her sadistic sister's whim, if at all, carry her through the throes of ecstasy. Sharp touch that claims her again and again... it's no wonder that she finds herself gushing against that touch, her back arching as freshly lapped bosom juts up into the charged air between them. Pleasured moans fill their bedchamber as Hypnos' climax crashes into death's loving touch, Thanatos' mouth closing around her lover's throat and tasting devotion, worship, fresh from the bloody source. It tastes different to mortal blood, far less metallic. It tastes like Hypnos, her essence, potent desire and liquid lust. The scarlet droplets are a lovedrug, through and through, driving Thanatos' fingers to see if they can't have her sister's second climax of the night greeting them soon enough. 

"I... haahhh! I-I love you too, Than! Always... and forever~"

Zeus, the Skymother, sits upon her lofty throne with a tepid smile worn on her face; a vain effort to prevent her guests from deducing her ill mood. The weather's sudden turn betrays her bad temper all the same, so much so that even the inebriated Lady Dio can sense the foul shift in atmosphere. 

The Moirai are testing her patience, though Zeus understands well that the enigmatic 'fates' are always wont to run on their own time and nobody else's, it does not mean she has to like it. The colossal being, Queen of Olympus, lifts her head and stares up at the night to consult the one woman she's come close to fearing since she had her own mother slain. 

"I take it you've no part in this, Lady Nyx?" Despite her rage in the face of a violation of the fallen titan's power she could feel rend her from another place, Zeus knows better than to raise her voice when addressing a primordial, a being that precedes herself by a good measure of Kronos and a direct offspring of Chaos itself. That she cannot prevent such a being from looming above her, even in this realm on high, is a topic that any citizen of Olympus knows well not to broach. No matter how high she has this mountain city climb, the night is inescapable, and always on top. Unlike day, it can even penetrate to the very depths of the Underworld where her former lover Erebus does dwell.

Nyx sees no reason to sully herself with speech, she has long since dropped the pretence of mortal familiarity. What need is there for body, breath, and other such trivialities? Why pretend to be anything but a blanket of midnight malady, jeering at the world below who fears the shroud that night provides and shaking hands with those it services.

"Hmph... I thought not. I know better than to accuse you of your daughter's failings... I had assumed her capable of trusting with my mother's stain, given how rigorously you had trained her. I'll consult you no further, please excuse my transgression." Zeus' words are polite while her tone is anything but, the immortal clicking her tongue fiercely and emptying half the room with just that. Whoops. Better to be with friends than stew in her thoughts, thinks the incensed goddess. Kronos does not live again, the Moirai shall assure her this much. 

Once she has concluded that the slain titan plays no part in this infraction, Mother Zeus intends to pay visit to her sister's realm of the dead...

...and lay claim to death's own head.