It took quite a while for Hestia to settle down.
And by "quite a while," I ant a good ten minutes of her running around the church like she had just been handed the keys to the kingdom.
"First mber! First mber! I finally have a first mber!"
She spun in circles, arms raised triumphantly, her laughter echoing through the abandoned building.
I leaned against one of the wooden pews, watching the spectacle with mild amusent.
She really was exactly like the ani.
Maybe even more energetic in person.
Eventually, Hestia stopped running and planted both hands on her hips, breathing hard but still grinning from ear to ear.
Her eyes turned back to , sparkling with excitent.
Then she suddenly froze.
"…Wait."
Her eyes snapped toward .
"Oh my gosh!"
She hurried over until she was standing far too close again.
"We didn't even introduce ourselves!"
She straightened proudly and placed a hand on her chest.
"I am Hestia!" she declared enthusiastically. "A goddess of the heavens and the founder of the great and soon-to-be-famous Hestia Familia!"
She paused.
Then added a little quieter—
"…Currently with one mber."
Her expectant gaze shifted toward .
I gave a small nod.
"Leon Mishima."
Hestia blinked.
"Mishima?" she repeated, testing the sound of the na. "That doesn't sound like it's from around here."
"It isn't," I replied calmly.
Her curiosity imdiately sparked.
"Where are you from then?" she asked, tilting her head. "So faraway country? I've been around the lower world for a while but I don't think I've heard that na before."
For a mont, I considered how much I should say.
Obviously, telling her the truth—that I ca from another universe entirely—was out of the question.
Even if she believed , that kind of information would raise far too many questions.
So I settled for sothing simple.
"Just a small place far from here," I said. "A quiet town. Not really worth ntioning."
"More boring than mysterious."
She humd thoughtfully but didn't push further.
"Well!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Leon Mishima, welco to the Hestia Familia! "You're officially my first mber!"
She grabbed my hands and shook them enthusiastically.
"Okay!" she said, clapping her hands once. "Now we can start!"
"…Start what?" I asked.
"The ceremony, of course!"
Before I could respond, she grabbed my wrist again and began dragging deeper into the church.
"Co on, co on! This is the most important part!"
We passed through the dusty main hall and into a smaller room at the back. Compared to the rest of the building, this place looked a little more lived in. There was a small bed pushed against the wall, a simple wooden table, and a few scattered belongings.
Hestia finally released my wrist and spun around to face .
"Alright!" she said, pointing toward the floor. "Take off your shirt."
"…Excuse ?"
She blinked.
Then realization dawned on her face.
"Ah—! Not like that!" she said quickly, waving her hands in panic. "I an, for the Falna!"
"I figured," I replied dryly.
She puffed her cheeks slightly, looking offended.
"Hmph. You could at least pretend to be embarrassed."
"I'm good."
Still muttering under her breath, she turned around and walked to the table. When she returned, she was holding a small needle.
The mont I saw it, my eyebrow lifted.
"So that's the divine ichor."
Hestia paused.
Her head tilted slightly as she looked back at .
"…You know about it?"
"More or less," I said casually. "A drop of divine blood activates the Falna. It converts a mortal's experiences into quantifiable growth—strength, endurance, agility, dexterity, magic. Then it eventually produces skills and developnt abilities depending on the person."
Hestia stared at .
For several seconds.
"…You've done your howork," she finally said.
I just shrugged.
"You could say that."
She humd thoughtfully, but didn't question it further.
"Alright then," she said, stepping behind . "Sit down and lean forward a bit."
I did as instructed, sitting on the edge of the bed and lowering my head slightly.
A mont later, I felt her finger press lightly against my back.
"Relax," she said softly.
Then ca the faint prick of the needle.
It barely hurt.
But the mont the drop of ichor touched my skin—
Sothing changed.
A strange warmth spread across my back, sinking deep into my body like liquid fire flowing through my veins.
I felt it reach places I didn't even know existed.
Every cell in my body seed to react.
A system.
Sothing ancient and divine.
Sothing that had existed long before I arrived in this world.
It was examining .
asuring.
Evaluating.
Then—
Hestia suddenly froze behind .
"…Huh?"
Her voice sounded confused.
Then surprised.
Then—
"EH?!"
I turned my head slightly.
"…Is everything okay?"
There was a long pause.
Hestia leaned closer to my back, staring at the newly ford Falna like she had just discovered buried treasure.
Her voice dropped into a whisper.
"Leon Mishima…What on earth are you?"
Her jaw dropped. Her knees wobbled. She stepped back. Then forward. Then—
"Ahhhh—!"
And just like that, the energy she'd been carrying exploded outward. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor with a soft thump.
I leaned back on the bed, scratching the back of my head. "Uh… did I… break her?" I muttered.
The room was silent except for the faint hum of the Falna.
Hestia's chest rose and fell rapidly, her hair splayed around her like a halo gone wrong. For a mont, she looked more like a toppled statue than the hyperactive goddess I'd t ten minutes ago.
I sighed and reached down to gently shake her shoulder. "Hestia? You okay?"
No response.
Welp, looks like this is going to take a while. Still, I was curious about what Hestia saw.
With a thought, I summoned a mirror-like portal in the air. It was a surveillance magic I had developed—of course, I was using it for tactical purposes, not for what you're probably thinking.
Within seconds, an image of my back appeared.
"Yup…" I muttered. I couldn't read it. Not yet.
But I was confident that, given enough ti, I'd be able to decode the language of the gods.
I dispelled the spell and let the portal fade. Then I stared around the abandoned church.
This won't do. Not for . Not for Hestia.
The place was dusty, dim, and slled faintly of mold and old wood.
It had character, sure—but it didn't feel like a ho. Not the kind of place a goddess—or her first mber—should be starting out in.
I glanced down at Hestia, still sprawled unconscious on the floor, her arms flopped awkwardly and her tiny fra barely moving. She looked ridiculous and delicate all at once.
I sighed.
Then I bent down and carefully scooped her up.
She weighed almost nothing. Her head lolled against my shoulder, and she mumbled sothing incoherent that sounded vaguely like "first mber" before going quiet again.
Carrying her, I began scanning for a better space.
If my mory served right—and it always did—there was a room sowhere around here. A side room near the altar, if the layout matched what I rembered from the source material.
Sure enough, on the left side of the altar, a small door stood half-hidden. Inside was a tiny, cramped space.
The room beyond was... small. That was generous. It was barely bigger than a closet. A thin mattress sat directly on the stone floor.
A single blanket, threadbare and faded, was bunched up at one end. There was a wooden crate serving as a nightstand, and on top of it, a half-lted candle and a cracked cup.
That was it.
That was everything.
I frowned.
This was how a goddess had been living. A deity of the hearth, of all things—the goddess whose entire domain was warmth, shelter, and ho—sleeping on a bare mattress in a room that would've made a prison cell feel spacious.
It pissed off a little. Not at Hestia. At the situation.
I set her down on the mattress as gently as I could. She curled into the thin blanket imdiately, a small, content smile tugged at her lips even in sleep.
I stepped back and leaned against the doorfra, watching her for a mont.
Still, despite the sorry state of everything around —I was glad I'd joined her Familia.
In the ani, Hestia had always been one of my favorites. And in the original myths, she'd left an impression on too. Out of all the Olympians, Hestia was the least troubleso of the lot.
My eyes lingered on her sleeping face, and my thoughts drifted sowhere else.
The tiline.
I was Hestia's first mber. That fact alone told exactly where I stood in the story's chronology. In the original, Bell Cranel had been her first—and for a long ti, her only—child. The white-haired kid with the hero complex and more heart than sense.
But Bell wasn't here yet.
Which ant he was still out there sowhere. Maybe still living with Zeus. Maybe already on his way to Orario, dreaming about dungeons and heroines
adventure stories that got people killed in the real world.
If my read on the tiline was right, he'd show up in a few months. Give or take.
That was fine. I didn't plan to interfere with his story. Bell's journey was his own—his growth, his struggles, his relationships with the people who'd shape him into sothing extraordinary. ssing with that would be pointless at best, destructive at worst.
But it did give a window.
A few months before the main plot kicked off. A few months to train, to explore the dungeon, to understand the Falna system from the inside. To squeeze every drop of growth out of this world before things got complicated.
I looked at Hestia one last ti.
Then I turned away from the room and walked back into the main hall.
Ti to fix this place up.
=====
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