I knew something was off the moment we walked into the glade and everyone was already waiting.

Gods didn’t do punctual. Gods were the clocks, and they liked to mess with the hands just because they could.

So when Poseidon was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, Apollo was reclining like he’d been sunbathing for hours, Hermes was literally upside-down on a branch, and Dionysus was already drinking—before lunch—I got a bad feeling.

Hephaestus stood a little apart from the rest, arms fidgeting, eyes darting toward us like he didn’t want to be here.

Astronaros caught my look and leaned close. “Are we getting ambushed?”

“Emotionally, I think yes.”

“Ah. Our favorite kind.”

Dionysus raised his goblet lazily. “Welcome, my bright little stars. Come closer, come closer. The gods have gathered, and the wine is fresh, which means something truly stupid is about to happen.”

“You’re the one holding the wine,” I muttered.

“Exactly.”

Hermes dropped from the tree with an elegant flip and landed in front of us. “Right, demigods. We’ve come to a consensus.”

“That’s new,” Astronaros said. “You all agreeing on something?”

“Not agreeing,” Poseidon corrected. “More like… relenting in the same direction.”

Hermes clapped his hands. “Details, details. The point is: if you want to continue training—”

“Which we do,” I cut in.

“—then a price must be paid.”

Astronaros tensed. “What kind of price?”

Hephaestus shifted uncomfortably. Apollo glanced away, whistling a little too innocently.

Dionysus smiled, wide and slow. “Your hearts.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Romance,” Hermes clarified. “Gods aren’t doing this out of the goodness of our glittering hearts. We want... something back.”

“You want dates?” Astronaros asked flatly.

“Dates, affection, flirtation, dinner under starlight, maybe some impromptu poetry recitals,” Apollo added with a hopeful grin. “You know, the usual.”

“Wait,” I said slowly. “Are you saying that to keep training with you, we have to date you?”

Poseidon looked vaguely embarrassed. “That’s a crude way of putting it.”

“It’s literally dating for power,” Astronaros said.

Hermes shrugged. “It’s not like we’re asking for blood. Well—Hephaestus might’ve, originally, but this is the toned-down version.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Hephaestus squeaked.

“We’re gods,” Dionysus said, stepping forward, “and what we offer is not free. You’ve had our time, our energy. We’ve taught you to wield what lies within you.”

“And now you want…” I gestured vaguely, “...us?”

Dionysus’s gaze locked on mine. “You, exactly.”

The world tilted slightly. Or maybe that was just the residual wine in my system from yesterday.

Astronaros looked from me to the gods and back. “So, to keep training, we have to enter a romantic relationship with all of you?”

Apollo perked up. “Not necessarily all. Pick your favorites. Or don’t pick—just let it happen.”

Poseidon looked like he wanted to melt into the ground.

Dionysus, however, looked thrilled.

“This is blackmail,” I muttered.

“This is mythology, darling,” Dionysus corrected. “It’s always a little messy.”

Hephaestus stepped forward then, clearing his throat. “We didn’t all vote for this. I… I said I’d keep training you either way. But the others…” He looked down. “They need more.”

“They need feelings,” Hermes said bluntly. “They need reciprocation.”

“And some of us just like a little chase,” Dionysus added, smirking. “Or a little chaos.”

Apollo’s eyes softened. “We’re not demanding love. We’re inviting it.”

“That’s worse,” I said honestly.

Astronaros let out a long breath. “So what happens if we say no?”

“Then the training stops,” Poseidon said quietly.

Silence.

I looked at each of them—Poseidon's guarded expression, Hephaestus's downcast eyes, Apollo's wistful smile, Hermes’s unreadable face, and Dionysus, who watched me like he already knew how this would end.

Astronaros looked at me. “Pneumeros?”

“I…” My throat felt tight. “I need time.”

“No pun intended,” Hermes said helpfully.

I shot him a look.

Astronaros and I left the glade. No one stopped us.

We didn’t speak for a while, walking side by side through the forest until the rustling of leaves was the only sound.

“So,” Astro said eventually, “do you want to start alphabetically or by emotional damage level?”

I snorted. “Dionysus is clearly S-tier danger.”

“Agreed. But Apollo’s probably the one who could actually hurt you.”

“Hermes would ruin my life for fun.”

“Poseidon would make you feel safe and then disappear for ten years.”

“And Hephaestus…” I trailed off.

Astro looked over. “He likes you.”

“I know.”

“You like him back?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know. I like all of them. I hate that I like all of them.”

“Poly problems,” Astro said solemnly.

“I didn’t ask to be caught in an immortal emotional spiderweb.”

He nudged me. “But you kind of wove part of it.”

I sighed, pressing my palms to my eyes. “What do we even do now?”

“Do we want to keep training?”

I paused.

Yes.

I wanted the power, the control over time I was starting to grasp. I wanted the strength to survive what was coming.

But I also wanted the gods. Not just as mentors—but something more. Something terrifying.

“I think,” I said slowly, “we need to figure out who we’re willing to hurt. Them… or ourselves.”

That night, I sat alone by the fire.

Dionysus appeared without a sound, dropping beside me with a soft grunt.

“No seduction this time?” I asked.

“Not tonight,” he said, voice softer than I expected. “Tonight I just wanted to see if you were still breathing.”

I glanced at him. “Why did you agree to the bargain?”

He looked into the fire. “Because when you live forever, you get tired of people taking and never giving back. This time… I wanted more.”

I swallowed.

He looked at me. “You don’t have to choose yet. Just… don’t run away.”

I didn’t promise anything. But I didn’t move either.

And that, for now, was enough.