"By Olympus," he muttered under his breath, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and disbelief. "What the hell is this farce?"
The golden chains around Eros's wrists glowed faintly, their magic resonating with the very essence of divinity. He pulled at them, testing their strength, but they didn't budge. His wrists were bound to towering marble pillars, cold and unyielding. Around him, the grand chamber of the gods stretched wide and tall, with an open sky of roiling clouds above. The faint murmurs of the gods present were drowned out by his own confusion.
He struggled to recall how he had ended up here. One moment, he had been in his chamber, indulging in his pleasures with Lyra, and the next... this.