Athena stood still for a long moment, as if weighing whether the question was worth asking.
Then she spoke, her voice softer than it had been throughout the entire war.
"I wish to ask about the Blood Mother," she said. "I was informed that you took over her care the moment I left Hell."
The room felt… different.
The orb glowed warmly.
Lenny's voice answered, and for the first time, there was unmistakable smile in it.
"My mother... She is well."
Then—
An image unfolded in Athena and Father Black's mind.
A woman of unearthly beauty rested peacefully, her skin pale as moonlight, her hair flowing like liquid blood—long, red, and radiant. She lay reclined, her head resting on the thighs of a man seated upon a throne of obsidian and living flame.
Lenny.
Older. Broader. Calmer.
