Loki didn't let out the breath she'd been holding until she was back home from the Guild.
This time, she really had lost her temper. There was no doubt in her mind—Ouranos had known something about the Dungeon's disturbance beforehand, yet that old bastard had acted like he didn't.
She didn't know exactly what he'd seen or what his goal was, but one thing was certain: she wasn't going to let him dance on her red line again.
"Finally cooled off," she muttered, exhaling the last of her frustration as she stood before the manor gates.
Right then, a voice called out from the shadows. Cynthia stepped forward, bowing respectfully.
"Lady Loki, Goddess Astraea has arrived."
"Oh? Astraea-chan's here too? Well, that's just perfect."
For Loki, that was about the first good news she'd gotten all day.
She pushed open the door and strode inside. Line led her down the hall toward the guest room where Astraea was waiting.
The moment she entered, Loki was greeted by a sight that made her pause.
Astraea sat on the couch, her long tea-brown hair dim under the lamplight. Her sapphire eyes—usually filled with conviction—were shadowed by worry and despair. The once unshakable goddess of justice looked… fragile.
So that's what motherhood does to a god, Loki thought. Makes you more human.
It only confirmed what Loki already knew: the moment a god descended to the lower world, their hearts inevitably began to change—some toward the light, like Astraea… and others into darkness.
And this version of Astraea—the one trembling with guilt and grief—was exactly who Loki needed to talk to.
"It's rare to see you like this, Astraea."
"Loki…"
"I know, I know. You're not in the mood for small talk. So let's skip the pretense and get to the point."
Loki leaned against the table, her tone casual but sharp.
"I know about that little divine distress signal you sent into the Dungeon. Considering that only my children were down there on expedition, I think we both know who that was meant for."
Her smile turned thin and cutting.
"You, the goddess who prides herself on justice, pulling something that selfish? That's pretty out of character, don't you think?"
Astraea flinched and closed her eyes, pain flickering across her face.
She knew Loki was right. What she'd done was wrong—reckless, desperate, selfish. She hadn't balanced the scales. She'd acted on emotion, not principle.
For the first time, she'd thrown away the very "justice" she'd stood for, all because she couldn't bear to lose her children.
"Loki… I know this was my fault."
Her lips trembled as she bit down hard, drawing a line of red across them. But she forced herself to continue.
"Your children are still out there on their expedition. My actions disrupted their mission—and worse, might've endangered them. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit. I'll pay whatever it takes. Just… please, let my children come home."
Loki watched her quietly. The anger she'd carried earlier began to fade.
For a goddess like Astraea—who had lived her entire life guided by principle—to abandon her creed for the sake of her children… that wasn't weakness. That was growth.
Still, there was a price to pay.
"Lucky for you," Loki said finally, "the one who picked up your little signal happened to be my most precious child. If it'd been anyone else, your children would've been buried in the Dungeon right now. It's only because my kid has a special ability that they made it out alive."
Astraea's shoulders slumped in relief. For the first time since she arrived, her chest eased a little. Whatever the cost, her children were alive—and that was all that mattered.
Seeing that faint spark of relief on Astraea's face, Loki's mischievous streak stirred. Her lips curved into a wicked grin.
"Don't celebrate too early, Astraea-chan~" she teased. "According to my kid's report, while they all survived, half your children came back crippled."
Her tone was light, but the words hit like a hammer.
"Scarlet Harnel and Yamato Rindou lost their right arms. Thrail lost both legs. Two elves—one lost a left arm, the other a right leg. The rest are severely injured. Honestly, it's worse than I expected."
The color drained from Astraea's face.
Her mind filled with memories of smiling faces—the children who had left for the Dungeon full of dreams and courage. Now those same smiles were gone, replaced by broken bodies and shattered futures.
Her eyes turned red as tears welled up. No sound left her lips, but her entire being radiated grief.
Just imagining their pain, their despair, was enough to crush her.
Loki, watching her wordlessly, suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.
Maybe I went a little too far.
But then she pictured her own children—if they had come back broken or worse—and her expression hardened again.
No, she decided. Let her feel this. Just for a moment.
Time passed in silence. Astraea sat there, hollow and trembling. Only when the atmosphere had sunk to its lowest point did Loki finally speak again—slowly, almost lazily.
"Still, I guess your luck hasn't completely run out. Turns out, healing crippling injuries happens to be one of my kid's specialties."
"…What?"
Astraea blinked, completely thrown.
Her grief, her despair—all the emotion she'd been holding onto shattered in an instant. She just stared, stunned, as Loki grinned like a cat who'd cornered her prey.
This is payback.
Astraea realized it immediately. This was Loki's revenge—for the selfish stunt that had endangered her children.
Loki had already written the price before Astraea even stepped through the door.
"Loki," Astraea said finally, steadying herself, "let's discuss your terms properly."