On the polished gold throne, she sits, upright, majestic. Hera. Queen of Olympus, wife of Zeus, goddess of marriage and oaths. While the other gods quarrel or are absent from mortal affairs, she observes. Silent, but omnipresent.

From the invisible heights of the 600th floor of the Empire State Building, she sees everything: the conflicts of the demigods, the broken promises, the forbidden unions. The world changes, myths are rewritten, but Hera remains. She is not the most beloved, no... but she is the most constant. Loyal. Terrible. Unwavering.

Approaching the Queen is never trivial. Every word spoken before her can awaken her mercy... or her anger. For if love is sacred in her eyes, betrayal knows no forgiveness.