The arm choking "Hera's" neck was slender yet powerful, with pure golden radiance flowing across its skin like liquid light.
That glow was starkly different from the light of the one being strangled, carrying an aura that was far more ancient and somber.
The restrained "Hera" let out a truncated cry of alarm.
"Let me go!
Who are you!
How dare you impersonate...!"
Her voice still mimicked the specific divine arrogance unique to Hera, but panic was already bleeding into her tone.
The true Hera standing behind her let out a cold sneer.
"Impersonate?
Athena, your illusions might fool mortals for a time, but before me, your clumsy disguises are nothing more than a child's scribbles."
The true Hera's fingers tightened.
The arm clamped around the other's throat flexed violently, yanking the goddess disguised as herself away from the top of Hermione's head.
Athena's sole left Hermione's scalp as her body was forcibly dragged backward, her bare feet carving messy trails across the floorboards.
Hermione felt the pressure on her head vanish.
She gasped for air, her bushy brown curls damp with sweat and plastered to her forehead. She looked up, witnessing this surreal scene.
Two Heras.
One stood in the rear, her expression frigid, her golden eyes filled with nothing but icy mockery.
The other was held in a chokehold; though her face still bore Hera's likeness, her eyes flickered with the calculating glint that belonged solely to Athena.
"Did you think that by taking my form, you could deceive his eyes?"
The true Hera's voice was deep, carrying a shudder-inducing pleasure.
"What were you thinking, stepping on this little witch's head?
Were you thinking that as long as you controlled her, you could control that boy?"
Athena's face flushed red from the strangulation, yet she still struggled. Her hands clawed at Hera's arm, her fingers digging in with desperate force.
"Hera, you've gone mad! You're actually siding with a mortal! If Zeus finds out..."
"Zeus?"
The true Hera cut her off. Her left hand slid from the other's arm down to the collar of Athena's gown of light-fabric.
"Since you've mentioned Zeus, let's see what you're really here for."
Hera's fingers hooked into the flowing, moonlight-like material.
Rrrip!
A crisp sound of tearing.
Athena's once-flawless divine robe was ripped open, a long gash splitting down from her collar.
The tear extended from her collarbone to her chest, exposing the skin that was meant to be shielded from view.
"You...!"
Athena's voice changed.
The arrogant tone she had used to mimic Hera vanished, replaced by her own sharp, terrified rage.
"Stop! Hera! This is my true body!"
"True body?"
The real Hera laughed. The sound echoed through the office like ice hitting a crystal glass.
"You actually dared to send your true body here. It seems the situation in the Pantheon is even worse than I imagined."
Hera's fingers moved again. This time, she tore the fabric at Athena's waist.
Rrrip!
Another gash.
"Let me guess.
After Aurora raised hell, the Pantheon was forced into hiding.
But you haven't quite finished cleaning up the mess she left behind before she departed, have you?"
Athena's body went rigid. Her eyes flickered, trying to weave a new web of lies.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I only..."
"Shh."
Hera pressed a single finger against Athena's lips.
"Don't lie. Your lies are as thin as your clothes—just a layer of flimsy paper."
Hera's finger slid down Athena's cheek and landed on her chest.
The patch of skin newly exposed to the air shimmered with an ivory luster in the sunset's glow.
Athena's chest heaved violently, her breathing ragged and chaotic.
"Aurora detonated all the crystal golems to buff her combat state.
However, there was one golem fitted with a positioning device. The materials of that golem are special—so special that even the spatial laws of the Pantheon cannot expel it."
Hera's voice turned soft, as if telling a bedtime story.
"So, while the Pantheon is hidden, that tracking golem is still there, acting like a beacon, exposing your location at every moment.
As long as someone can receive that signal, they can find the Pantheon."
Athena's pupils contracted violently. Her secret had been stripped bare.
"How... how do you know..."
"Because that is my dear Jerry's masterpiece."
Hera's fingers gave a violent downward yank.
Rrrrrip!
Athena's robe was completely shredded.
The fabric of light fell away like a broken dream, piling in a heap at her ankles.
The Goddess of Wisdom now stood nearly naked in Jerry's office, save for a few stray, hanging scraps of cloth.
Her body was slightly more petite than Hera's, but her curves remained flawless.
The twin peaks on her chest were not as full as Hera's, yet they possessed a firm, youthful pertness.
Her waist was slender, her hips rounded, and her legs long and tight.
"Now, tell me."
Hera leaned into Athena's ear, her voice like a serpent's hiss.
"Are you here to kill Jerry, or to destroy the evidence?"
Athena gritted her teeth.
Her body trembled under Hera's gaze—from shame, and from fear.
She hadn't expected Hera would truly treat a fellow Major God of Olympus this way for the sake of a mortal.
"I only..."
She was still being stubborn.
Hera sighed.
"It seems you still don't understand your situation."
Hera released the arm choking Athena's neck, but before Athena could let out a breath of relief, Hera's foot kicked into the hollow of her knee.
Thud.
Athena's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor.
Her knees hit the floorboards hard, producing a dull thud.
She knelt beside Hermione. Two females—one a little witch who had just finished her "drink," and the other a goddess stripped of her clothes—knelt side-by-side before Jerry.
Jerry remained in his chair.
His gaze moved from Hermione's face to Athena's naked body.
His cock, having been serviced by Hermione, was fully erect, pointing straight at the ceiling like a red-hot iron bar.
Athena, kneeling on the floor, was exactly eye-level with that massive root of flesh.
"Surprised?"
The true Hera walked to Jerry's side, resting one hand on his shoulder while the other reached for a drawer on the desk.
"This is the 'threat' you wanted to eliminate. Unfortunately, you can't even protect yourself now."
Hera pulled an object from the drawer.
It was a crystal rod, about thirty centimeters long and crystal clear.
The shaft was spiraled and covered in fine, granular textures.
This was a product from the assembly line of Jerry's Alchemy Workshop—a high-grade magical vibrator named "God's Sigh."
"Since you love disguises so much, and love using your 'wisdom' to scheme against others, I'll let you experience what true 'wisdom' feels like."
Holding the crystal rod, Hera stepped behind Athena.
Athena sensed the movement behind her and tried to scramble away. The moment she moved, Hera's foot stepped onto her back.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Hera's voice was freezing. Her sole pressed down hard, forcing Athena back into a kneeling position.
"Since you're here, don't be in such a hurry to leave."
Athena braced her hands on the floor, her nails scraping harshly against the stone.
Her spine ached from the pressure of the foot, but she was more terrified of the faint magical hum coming from the crystal rod behind her.
"Hera! How dare you! I am the Goddess of Wisdom!
I am the daughter of Zeus!"
"So what?"
Hera let out a cold snort.
"Zeus is currently in no position to save himself. He overextended his divine power far too much to seal the Pantheon.
Right now, he probably couldn't even summon a single spark of lightning. You only dared to come here alone because there's no one left in the Pantheon who can leave, isn't that right?"
The crystal rod in Hera's hand pressed against the space between Athena's legs.
Squish.
An extremely faint, wet sound.
Athena's body jerked tight. Her neck arched back, her spine curving into an exaggerated bow.
"No... don't... not there..."
Her voice trembled, laced with a sob.
Hera ignored her pleas. Her wrist flexed, and she forcibly jammed the thick crystal rod into Athena's tightly closed tunnel.
Bzzzzzz.
The magical runes on the surface of the crystal rod activated. The moment it entered Athena's body, it began emitting low-frequency vibrations. Those vibrations conducted through the shaft, acting directly on Athena's most sensitive inner walls.
"Ah!"
Athena let out a scream.
Her body convulsed violently, her legs kicking at the floor, her toes curling.
"Too... too big... get it out... take it out...!"
The crystal rod was nearly five centimeters in diameter; for a goddess who had never experienced this, it was nothing short of torture.
More importantly, under Hera's suppression, Athena could not muster a single drop of divine power. This made her far more fragile and sensitive than even an average human.
However, the torture brought more than just pain.
As the crystal rod pushed deeper and the vibrations intensified, Athena's body began to secrete massive amounts of fluid.
The liquid overflowed from the edges of the rod, dripping onto the floor.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
The water sounds were exceptionally clear in the silent office.
"It seems your body is much more honest than your mouth."
Hera watched Athena's trembling back with mockery.
Her foot remained planted on Athena's back, crushing the goddess's struggle.
"Is this what you wanted?
Athena?
Is this your so-called wisdom?"
Athena's cheek was pressed against the cold floor, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. Intermittent moans escaped her lips—sounds mixing agony with a shameful pleasure she had never before experienced.
"No... stop talking..."
Her hands clawed at the floorboards, searching for leverage to escape the foreign object ravaging her insides.
But Hera's suppression was absolute; she couldn't move an inch.
The crystal rod continued to sink deeper.
Its spiral texture scraped against every fold of Athena's inner walls as it rotated.
It felt as though countless ants were crawling inside her, devouring her sanity.
Squish, squelch.
With the pumping motion of Hera's wrist, the crystal rod slid in and out of Athena's body.
Every withdrawal dragged out a gush of viscous fluid.
Every insertion squeezed out a wet sound that would make anyone blush.
Hermione knelt to the side, staring blankly at the scene.
Traces of her previous service still lingered on her face, her mouth slightly agape, unable to believe what was happening.
Jerry's gaze was also fixed on Athena.
He watched the kneeling goddess, her trembling spine, and her buttocks swaying with the rhythm of the thrusts.
His own meat-root gave a jump at the visual stimulation, a drop of transparent fluid seeping from the tip.
Under the intense stimulation, Athena's consciousness began to haze.
White light flashed before her eyes; her body felt as if it were being tossed into the clouds, then plunged into an abyss.
She felt something collapsing inside her—her dignity as a goddess, and the chastity she had guarded for millennia.
"No... I'm... I'm going to..."
She shrieked, her voice filled with despair and madness.
Hera seemed to have anticipated this.
She lifted her foot from Athena's back and violently yanked the crystal rod out.
Pfft!
A massive gush of fluid sprayed out following the departure of the rod, splashing onto the floor and forming a shimmering puddle.
Athena's body gave a violent spasm in that instant, then she slumped onto the floor like a pile of wet mud.
Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her eyes vacant and unfocused.
"This is only the beginning."
Hera held the fluid-drenched crystal rod before her eyes, glanced at it, and then tossed it aside carelessly.
"You wanted to eliminate the threat to the Pantheon. You wanted to kill Jerry.
Too bad you're too weak."
Hera squatted down, grabbing Athena by the hair and lifting her face from the floor.
The golden palm pulled away from Athena's hair, and Hera stood back up beside the goddess's limp form. She frowned slightly, her golden eyes flashing with thought.
The office was deathly quiet, save for Athena's heavy breathing and Hermione's muffled, suppressed sounds behind her hand.
Just then, the air in the center of the office suddenly warped.
It wasn't a standard spatial ripple, but a deeper, more violent tearing.
The orange light of dusk seemed to be split down the middle by an invisible hand, revealing a void so deep it swallowed the light.
Arcing electricity flickered at the edges of the void, emitting a sizzling sound like a cosmic wound being forced open.
It was the sign of a teleportation.
Athena's eyes bulged in an instant, her unfocused pupils snapping back to center, her face twisted with unbelievable horror.
Her lips trembled as she let out a broken whisper: "Impossible... you... how could you wake up so fast...?"
As her voice shook, a tall, slender figure "walked out" from the torn void.
It wasn't the sudden flash of a "teleportation" or the abrupt disappearance of "apparition."
Her appearance was more as if she had been there all along, and the curtain separating her from this world had simply been pulled back.
Step by step, she moved from the void onto the solid floor.
She looked to be in her teens, her golden hair fluttering backward under the impact of the cross-dimensional forces, a few strands playfully sticking to her pale cheeks.
Her face was small and delicate, her eyes deep-set with thick lashes. Those lake-blue eyes appeared somewhat weary now, with faint dark circles beneath them.
Even so, her features radiated a staggering beauty; every angle looked like a meticulously crafted work of art.
She wore a dark trench coat that reached her ankles. The fabric had been torn in several places during the violent spatial fluctuations, revealing the high-quality black tactical bodysuit beneath.
She carried a unique scent—a mix of gunpowder, high-energy mana, and a trace of unidentifiable, ancient aura.
Aurora.
Her face was indeed somewhat pale, and her lips had lost some color, but the sense of power radiating from her posture hadn't diminished in the slightest.
The moment she appeared, the aura in the office—previously dominated by Hera's divine power—was immediately diluted by a force just as potent, but more aggressive and feral. It even showed signs of surpassing it.
Aurora's blue eyes swept over Athena without a single ripple of emotion.
She looked at the naked, limp Goddess of Wisdom on the floor as if she were a troublesome rock, showing zero interest.
Her gaze skipped over everyone and landed directly on Jerry.
Without a second of hesitation, she walked straight toward Jerry in his chair.
Every step was steady and powerful, her soles hitting the floor with a slight click-clack that broke the eerie silence.
Hermione knelt there in a daze, watching every step Aurora took toward him.
Aurora stopped in front of Jerry.
She didn't speak, merely leaning over slightly.
The hem of her trench coat spread out like petals around her.
Her right hand reached through the open coat and pressed against the waistband of Jerry's sweatpants.
Aurora's fingers were long and strong. Through the fabric, she accurately located the massive, steaming object that was held high.
She gave it two firm, powerful squeezes.
The friction of her palm against the fabric produced a faint rustle.
The meat-root swelled in Aurora's hand. Its scalding heat was transmitted clearly to her palm through the thin layer of cloth. Her grip was perfectly measured—not overly rough, but filled with undisguised possessiveness.
"I've returned alive."
Aurora's voice was deep and hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of travel but anchored by an unshakable resolve.
Her blue eyes stared at Jerry, her gaze deep and complex, like an ocean containing the stars of the universe.
Jerry looked at her, his lips slowly curving into a warm, charming arc.
"Mmh."
He gave a soft response.
He raised his right hand, encircling Aurora's slender waist and giving a gentle pull.
Aurora acted as if she had lost all center of gravity, falling gracefully into Jerry's lap.
One of her thighs rested over Jerry's left leg, while the other hung naturally beside his right.
The fabric of her coat slid over their clothes with a slight friction sound.
She was completely enveloped by Jerry, like an infant nestling against a father's chest.
And the instant she sat down, Jerry's meat-root moved with her.
The massive object, with its head held high, found its place in the middle of Aurora's soft crotch. It was squeezed by the roots of her plump, tight thighs, passing between them. The tip was pressed right against the sensitive depths of Aurora's perineum.
There was no direct penetration, yet it brought a lingering, supreme sensation of pressure that was more intense than entry.
That weight, that heat, and that vibrating presence beneath the silky fabric of her underwear made Aurora's body instinctively tense.
The muscles between her legs contracted slightly, clamping Jerry's meat-root tighter.
Aurora felt the massive head grinding, pressing, and squirming against the thinnest fabric of her panties, as if asserting sovereignty.
A bolt of electricity shot from her depths straight up her spine, adding an unnatural flush to her pale face.
She didn't try to adjust her posture, simply resting her head on Jerry's shoulder, savoring the long-awaited warmth and security.
The broad hem of her trench coat swept gently across the floor behind her like a weary banner that had finally found its harbor.
Hera stood to the side, her golden eyes scanning Aurora from head to toe.
Her slender fingers once again traced an unconscious pattern in the air.
"How is Zeus?"
Her voice was indifferent, devoid of emotion.
It was like asking about the weather rather than the fate of a Major God.
Aurora shifted slightly in Jerry's arms, finding a more comfortable position. She wrapped both arms around Jerry's neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. From this angle, she could see the limp Athena on the floor and the terror etched on her face.
She let out an incredibly shallow smile.
The smile carried the composure of a victor and a hint of bloodthirsty coldness, forming an extreme contrast with her petite, girlish appearance.
"The moment I entered the Pantheon, I released over a hundred Forbidden Spells."
Aurora spoke with nonchalance, as if "a hundred Forbidden Spells" were as simple as "a hundred Levitation Charms."
Jerry's embrace tightened. He buried his face in Aurora's golden hair and took a deep breath.
He could smell her unique scent—a mixture of battle smoke, high-energy magic, and her own sweet bodily aroma.
He squeezed Aurora harder, feeling the meat-root beneath him pressed against her underwear, applying more and more pressure between her legs.
Through the layers of barriers, Aurora felt the clear, pulsing expansion of the head with every heartbeat.
Athena's body began to shake violently. She stared at Aurora with eyes full of despair.
A hundred Forbidden Spells.
What did that mean?
It meant that from the moment Aurora entered the Pantheon, she chose a path of total destruction, leaving herself no way back.
No matter how powerful the Pantheon's defense system was, it was powerless against that level of saturation bombing.
Worse yet, she had done it as a human, releasing over a hundred spells that even Major Gods wouldn't dare use lightly, and had successfully escaped.
"I imagine he has fallen into a deep slumber by now," Aurora added.
The word "imagine" sounded more like a casual remark than a genuine uncertainty.
Everyone present understood what this "slumber" meant.
A slumber in the Pantheon was never a simple rest or unconsciousness; it was a deep-level self-preservation of the Divine Persona—a silence bordering on death.
It meant that Zeus's divine body and his godhood had suffered unprecedented, catastrophic trauma.
Silence.
The office fell into a dead silence that transcended breathing and heartbeats. Even the sunset outside seemed to freeze in this moment, its orange afterglow staining every corner but unable to disperse the suffocating pressure.
Hera's golden eyes narrowed, the silver vortices in her pupils spinning more fiercely.
She felt no sorrow over Zeus's "slumber," not even a spark of anger.
Only a cold, all-seeing clarity brought by the closing of a total information gap.
The corners of her mouth curved into a microscopic arc.
The highest degree of satisfaction.
Her gaze fell once again upon the limp Athena on the floor.
This time, there was no impurity in her eyes—only the pure lock of a predator.
Athena's body jerked as if sensing an omen. She didn't even dare to meet Hera's eyes, only trying desperately to move her body away from the former mother-goddess who promised only punishment and ruin.
However, after the previous pleasure and Jerry's "watering," Athena's body remained weak and powerless. She could only wiggle helplessly on the cold floor like an abandoned fish.
Jerry lowered his head, his nose gently touching the crown of Aurora's golden hair.
His gaze still held a warm smile, but his seemingly casual hug pinned Aurora firmly in his lap.
His burning meat-root, between Aurora's legs, savored the suffocating pleasure of being tightly encased by her most intimate parts.
Aurora made small adjustments to her body now and then. Every slight friction caused the thing beneath the barrier of her underwear to swell and throb, as if it were ready to burst through its shackles at any moment.
"Aurora, you should step outside for a moment."
Jerry's voice was low and tender, as if coaxing a child.
Aurora didn't move, simply nuzzling into the crook of Jerry's neck. Her deep blue eyes looked at Athena, who was being coldly scrutinized by Hera.
A flash of cruel satisfaction appeared in her eyes; she seemed to enjoy seeing the Goddess of Wisdom in such a pathetic state.
"Go on," Jerry said again. Simultaneously, he raised his right hand and gently rubbed Aurora's golden hair with undeniable indulgence.
Aurora let out a soft sigh in his arms and reluctantly slid off his lap.
The moment her body left him, Jerry's tightly-encased meat-root lost its restraint and gave a high bounce, its tip stained with the moist scent of Aurora's tactical suit and her own fragrance.
Aurora walked to Hermione's side. As she passed, she reached out her slender fingers and gently, almost pityingly, wiped the remaining white traces from Hermione's cheek.
"Little one, you come out too!"
Hermione blinked, her blue eyes looking at Jerry. She said nothing, but leaned down and performed an action that surprised everyone.
She bent over and used her cherry lips to give a light kiss to the tip of Jerry's high-held meat-root, which was still fragrant with Aurora.
It was a brief touch, like a ritualistic farewell.
However, her greedy tongue flexed and wrapped a hard circle around the head, swallowing all the white mucus on it into her mouth...
Then, Hermione lingered no longer. She turned and walked out of the room with small steps, closing the door quietly behind her.
As the door clicked shut, only Hera, Jerry, and the limp Athena remained in the office.