Everyone turned to look toward the door in surprise, but only Apollo moved with serene composure, as if he’d expected this visit all along. He casually dropped Dionysus, as if shaking him off, and then sat down on the sofa with a nonchalant air, like he hadn’t just caused a commotion moments ago.
Then he said,
“Let them in.”
What kind of pompous line was that? Hermes looked utterly dumbfounded.
“Couldn’t you just say someone’s here if they’re already here? Why do you always have to act like you’re the only one who matters, brother?”
“If I don’t uphold order in Olympus, who will?”
“Ga-hyeon, take note. That might be Apollo’s most insufferable quote yet. Should I report him to Father?”
Still sprawled out on the floor, Dionysus giggled.
“Eh, who cares. Isn’t it nice to see…? The beauty of someone so utterly in love with themselves….”
“Dionysus, can you please snap out of it already? Get up! Are you really going to let the other mythologies’ Constellations see you like this?”
Anubis crossed his arms with a face full of regret.
“Already. Showing them. Right now. Ga-hyeon. Don’t. Watch. That nonsense.”
“Unfortunately, I’m witnessing it with both eyes, crystal clear.”
It was honestly a headache-inducing fact that the three of them were brothers. Of course, they all had different mothers, and Dionysus had even been born from Zeus’s thigh, but still.
Every time I thought about it, I wanted to ask why their family tree was such a mess, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that to the Constellations.
In the meantime, the door opened and something walked in. More precisely, a man on a horse—with eight legs.
I looked at the man.
It was none other than Hermóðr, the Constellation contracted with Yoo Ji-won.
He was wearing a wide-brimmed, thin hat that didn’t suit his Nordic-style clothing, and his sharply defined jaw and thick eyebrows left a strong impression.
Hermóðr was Odin’s son and Baldr’s younger brother. If you’re wondering who Baldr is, he’s the God of Light and Purity. A perfect being, so good and beloved that even all of creation sang his praises.
As the end of the world drew near, Baldr gradually lost his power—a foreboding omen. Odin, alarmed, sought out a seer in the underworld for a prophecy.
And the one who foretold Baldr’s death was Angrboda.
In any case, after Baldr’s death, Hermóðr rode the fastest horse Odin had gifted him—Sleipnir—into the underworld, also known as Hel, in an attempt to bring Baldr back.
Of course, Baldr was not resurrected. It was because of Loki’s trickery. Hel, the ruler of the underworld, had said she would allow Baldr to return to Asgard if all beings in the world shed tears for him—but Loki, disguised as a giant, claimed he couldn’t cry.
‘Come to think of it, his Constellation name is ridiculously literal.’
The Horseback Herald. There could only be one Constellation with a name like that—Hermóðr. I stared in wonder at the eight-legged horse. Hermóðr, still on horseback, slowly approached us and began climbing the steps.
Sleipnir, adorned with ornate reins and saddle, stopped in front of me and gently lowered its head. I hesitated, then reached out to stroke its mane.
Sleipnir calmly accepted my touch.
“Odin’s Sleipnir, whom he bestowed upon me, seems to have taken a liking to you,” Hermóðr said stoically.
“I share Sleipnir’s sentiment. I favor those who are courageous and generous.”
“Would you mind getting off the horse? You’re a little too high up for comfort.”
“My apologies. Most depictions of me include me on Sleipnir, and stepping down could create… complications.”
Was this one of those “behind-the-scenes grown-up” situations?
“For Constellations with only a few remaining legends, it’s even worse. They have to go out of their way to preserve their recorded appearance~ The more they do, the more power they can hold. We’re bodies that can’t evolve, remember?”
“So that’s why Hermes always dresses however he pleases.”
“Exactly. Who doesn’t know me? I show up everywhere—even in games. You know, ‘Hermes’ Boots that boost your movement speed’ and stuff like that.”
Now that he mentioned it, I think I’d heard of that before.
“Ahem. Ahem.”
Just then, Apollo cleared his throat and gave a pointed look. I turned my eyes to him. Apollo sat with his legs crossed in elegant poise, looking up at Hermóðr.
Finally, Hermóðr greeted Apollo.
“A pleasure to meet you. I am Hermóðr, son of Odin.”
“I am Apollo, God of the Sun.”
“I’m well aware. You are all quite famous.”
There was something odd in his tone.
“All of you?”
“Yes, all of you. Including you—Choi Ga-hyeon.”
“I’m famous?”
I asked, puzzled. Hermóðr answered as if it were obvious.
“You’re gathering strength to oppose Destruction. How could that not be known?”
Hermóðr let out a brief hum. Sleipnir echoed it with a soft neigh.
“The Constellations currently fall into three camps. Some seek to follow your path and prevent Destruction, others remain as passive observers, and some—believing themselves to be true gods—actively participate in recreating it.”
Hermóðr continued,
“Of course, I personally think what you’re doing is quite reckless.”
“So what’s your point?”
Apollo flicked his toes, wearing a bored expression.
“Fame or not, there’s gotta be a reason you approached Ga-hyeon. Even went so far as to contract with another human. Are you seriously joining this low-chance-of-success mission just to stop Destruction?”
“Apollo. Mouth.”
Anubis interjected, arms still crossed. But Apollo remained as smug as ever.
“It’s not like I expect we’ll actually stop it.”
“Apollo.”
“Fine, maybe a little. Happy now? Anyway, if you wanna join this ragtag secret resistance or whatever it is, go get permission from the gatekeeper over there.”
I blinked in disbelief.
“Why am I the gatekeeper?”
“Because you’re the weakest.”
“Apollo, have you ever been smacked with a golden chair?”
“My father never hit me, so shut your mouth.”
“I… didn’t come for that reason. I came to ask for help.”
Apollo scoffed openly.
“Ha. So now we’re a detective agency. Who wants to be Watson?”
“Hermes, did you show Apollo Sherlock Holmes or something?”
“He kept whining about being bored.”
“Can I please speak?”
Hermóðr suddenly shouted. We all looked up at him. Tears were streaming from his wide, trembling eyes.
Wait, is he… crying?
“Why… why are you crying?”
I asked, flustered. Hermóðr, through falling tears, spoke solemnly.
“My brother has gone mad.”
“I’ll translate what he’s trying to say—mmph!”
I clamped a hand over Apollo’s mouth and gave Hermóðr a look encouraging him to continue. Hermóðr gave me a brief nod of thanks.
“Exactly as I said. My brother has gone insane.”
“You mean Baldr, right? Hermóðr’s brother.”
“Correct. The noblest being in existence, Baldr.”
Apollo gave me a look full of protest from behind my hand, but I ignored him.
“I don’t even know what caused him to fall. He’s just… lately, he’s been saying humanity must perish.”
“Baldr said that?”
“Thinking back, maybe there were signs. He started speaking strangely, and then—he began to believe that we, who exist only as stories on paper, are actually real! ”
Hermóðr said, sniffling. Apollo gave him a look like he was watching a theater performance.
“So now my brother Baldr believes he is the deceased soul that must be resurrected—and is trying to make the entire world cry for him. He’s forgotten that he’s not even a real god anymore.”
“Just like in the myth? Where Baldr could only be resurrected if everything in creation cried for him. And that didn’t happen because of Loki.”
“But this time it’s different. He doesn’t want to evoke tears of grief—he wants to torment all beings until they shed tears of suffering.”
Hermóðr’s voice cracked as he shouted.
“It must be that damn Angrboda! She’s the one who brainwashed my brother, I’m sure of it!”
“Wait, just calm down for a moment—”
“You expect me to calm down?! My brother is collaborating in killing humans! I tried everything I could to stop him—but nothing worked! I did all I could!”
Apollo writhed under my hand and then bit down—hard. I gasped and let go instinctively.
“Apollo!”
“I thought I was gonna die without air.”
“You don’t need to breathe!”
Apollo completely ignored me and brushed his hair behind his ear. Then he spoke to Hermóðr.
“If you can’t calm down, at least get off the horse.”
“But then it wouldn’t suit my Constellation name, would it?”
“You’ve got all kinds of issues. And what exactly are we supposed to do about your lunatic brother? You come charging in yelling ‘My brother’s gone mad, help me!’ and expect our little Ga-hyeon to just go ‘Sure thing!’ and leap into action?”
I couldn’t say anything for a moment. Apollo slowly turned to face me.
“You were really gonna listen to that guy?”
“…His brother’s gone mad. Because of Angrboda.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You just called me ‘our Ga-hyeon.’”
“You can’t save and protect everyone in the world! You need to prioritize yourself! Didn’t you get that when I said it the first time?”
I felt wronged. Wasn’t this all tied to Destruction anyway?
If so, it was just a matter of when we’d confront this, not if.
“Don’t you think you’re being overprotective? I’ve said it again and again—do I really seem that weak to you?”
“You were hospitalized every damn time you ran into that cursed Angrboda’s contractor!”
“That’s because Kang Si-hoo is insanely strong! How could I beat someone like that when I don’t even have a contracted Constellation!”
“You are a Constellation yourself—so why are you even worrying about that? If you’d just give up a little of your humanity—”
“Both of you, stop fighting! And Apollo, take back what you just said. Yes, yes. Step apart. Like this.”
Hermes physically separated me and Apollo, then flashed a bright smile.
“Now then, Apollo. If you snark one more time, I’ll borrow Father’s lightning bolt and stick it in your head like a freakin’ antenna. Just so we’re clear.”
Hermes’ biting tone rang sharply in my ears.
“Let’s try to handle this like adults, okay? It’s not that hard.”
At last, Dionysus—still lying on the floor—muttered quietly.
“So… when’s our next party…?”
Never.
Hermes boots… TERRARIA REFERENCE??????