The atmosphere in the chamber was quieter now. The interviewer had run out of questions, yet Athena lingered, reclining comfortably as her gaze drifted toward nothing in particular—caught in the soft pull of memory. Her voice, when it came, was smooth as velvet and carried the warmth of remembered pleasures.

"Those were simpler nights," she murmured, her glowing eyes half-lidded. "Back when Olympus still echoed with music and laughter, before war and prophecy weighed down our every step. I was still discovering the edges of my own divinity then—what I could be... and what I desired."

She shifted slightly, the silk of her robe brushing softly against her skin, a subtle reminder of the past.

"Back then, I didn’t care much for titles or temples," she added with a quiet smirk. "What I loved most was the scent of nighttime jasmine, the rustle of starlight through my balcony curtains, and the way the world grew still when someone truly saw me—not as a goddess, but as a woman."

She paused, letting silence linger like perfume in the air.

"There was a time," she whispered, leaning closer as if sharing a secret, "when curiosity brought many to my door. Scholars, warriors, poets… all hoping for a glimpse, a conversation, maybe more. Not all were ready for what they found." Her smile curved, slow and knowing.

The interviewer blinked, utterly entranced.

"But tell me," she said, eyes gleaming, "have you come to finish the interview... or to become part of the story?"