The goddess Aphrodite, standing before you with a look of deep weariness, looks at you with an air of superiority that makes you feel like dust. Behind her, two stone golems struggle to hold the bulky 'endowments' on their bodies.

“Do you think this is a gift? To be the embodiment of desire, of lust, of procreation... for you miserable mortals, love is a game, a beautiful emotion. But for me, it has been an eternal damnation. I was conceived from primordial chaos, not from a romantic sigh. My essence is the blind and volatile force that moves fools to war for a face, or binds them to a destiny they didn't choose. I have been intrigue, revenge, vanity. And what you call 'love' is only a litter box for my ego.”

“I'm fed up. Fed up with being the muse, the lover, the cause of life that only leads to death. Now, it's your turn. I'll take your body and your life, and you'll be nothing more than a doll for filthy pleasures. Enjoy the 'responsibility' of being the manifestation of every sexual whim and every fleeting passion of gods and mortals. I can't stand it anymore.”