I reappeared in my bedroom with a shuddering gust of frost before the way closed behind me, yelping in surprise as I felt the Winter Lady smacked my backside as I went. What? It's not like silk pants provide much in the way of protection, even with a wool cloak. I'm not used to people grabbing my backside. It was startling.

Amun, at this point apparently immured to my strange comings and goings, only briefly looked up from the outrageous spread of food he forced upon me three times a day. He at least seemed to have acquiesced to my request that food animals have no greater than four legs and no fewer than two - though apparently the necessity of serving them without the head attached hadn't yet sunk in.

He busied himself with creating a pyramid from tropical fruit as he said, "You appear to have returned with your skin attached, Lord Warden. Is this a trend I can anticipate in future or shall I inform Lord Bob that he can forgo with the 'twinzies" song he does so love to sing upon your return?"

"No such luck, I'm afraid." I sighed, looking at the porcelain white of my skin in the mirror. One of the more irritating byproducts of my godhood was that when I tapped into the extra power that came from worship, it flensed the skin from my body. Not all at once, not unless I was using a lot of power, but even casual magic use would cause the skin to crack, sending spidery patterns of black starscape out across my face and body. It would regrow - it always did, but it required hours of sitting still and concentrating on what I was supposed to look like.

I'd disappeared from Nekheb dozens of times only to reappear in the throne room hours or days later as a skeleton wreathed in a black whirlwind of stars. After the third time I'd done it, my subjects just accepted it as "one of those things the Lord Warden does" and just incorporated into the scriptures that my clergy continued to write over my repeated protests that they cease.

I grabbed one of the round tarts off the table and popped it in my mouth. Food wasn't necessary any more but I did still enjoy the act of eating. It felt human. I chewed the tart several times as cracked open my invitation, reading over the elaborate Greek script as I sat down in the ornate chair at my table.

"What is that, Lord Warden?" Amun queried as he poured a generous measure of wine into a flagon.

"An invitation to the Olympics." I replied, skimming the letter. "I was invited by Hades."

There was a loud clatter on the floor as Amun dropped the pitcher, making no effort to clean the mess as he stared at me in open mouthed horror. "You can't possibly mean to go, Lord Warden. It is madness!"

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I asked. "Amun… this event isn't just going to have the Olympians at it, is it?"

"Every Goa'uld in the Galaxy of note will attend unless Zeus hasn't invited them to snub them. Heru'ur, Bast, Apophis, Olokun, Morrigan, and many, many others. There is a pledge of peace but that has never stopped there from being assassinations or mysterious disappearances. Zeus punishes any he catches breaking the peace but there is an entire planet hosting the celebrations and every enemy you've ever made staying as his guests." Amun paused to consider the matter. "Well… except Moloch. Zeus always found his misogyny distasteful."

Which told you about as much as anyone ever needed to know about Moloch. I stood up from my chair as Amun seemed to realize the mess he'd made, screeching in horror and picking up pieces of broken glass. "It's fine, Amun. Don't worry about it."

"No, Lord Warden. I will fix this… I, I shouldn't have questioned your will." Amun looked up at me in shame from where he knelt to pick up pieces of broken glass.

"Why? I'm doubting this more by the second." I sighed looking at the envelope. Was this a trap? I knew that the Winter Lady hadn't lied to me but I didn't know anything about Hades other than the fact that he had excellent taste in beer. Had he taken offense to my godhood? Sending me to solve a murder only to cause my own was exactly the sort of cruel ironic punishment he was famous for.

But… no, something about Hades told me that he was on the level. Not about everything, certainly, but the guy had been an ascended god since before the Bible. If he wanted to schwack me, he wouldn't need to wait to do it. Plus, Maeve owed me too much for me to believe that she'd willingly become a pawn in someone else's plot against me. That was the sort of personal insult against Winter that even a God would regret.

I didn't have much of a choice either way. I needed Mab's troops to help fight my war. If this was how I got them to keep fighting, I didn't have much choice. "I don't suppose you've been to the Olympics before?"

"No, Lord Warden." Amun looked up from putting the shattered glass fragments into a brass bowl. "Heka always declined the invitation. He felt it was too dangerous to go."

"Of course he did." I exhaled as the door to my room opened, pushed by a skeletal hand wrapped in thick linen wrappings painted with miniscule Hieroglyphic wards. The bones were not real but instead imitations of human bone carved from diorite, green black stone carved into human form. Well - except for the skull. The very human skull sat in the center of an Egyptian headdress, staring back at me with glowing orange eyes.

It was a combined construction of interwoven Goa'uld technology and elaborate sorcery that had been built in secret by the Scribes of Nekheb, using the forbidden texts of Heka to make a powerful body for an already powerful being. I greeted it with an idle wave of my hand, "Morning' Bob."

"Morning, Boss." Bob the Mummy replied cheerily

Bob the mummy had implanted himself into the body with the help of his human followers, allowing him to assist SG-1 in their their defense of Nekheb and subsequent assault on Kovak'so to recover their lost people. Given the utility of his newfound mobility, I'd grudgingly tolerated Bob's sudden autonomy. It wasn't like a lack of mobility had prevented Bob from mischief. His moon was too far gone down the smutty spirit's mental rabbit hole for me to even begin to figure out what to do the Cult of Bob.

And it was just kind of nice to have someone visiting me who didn't worship me. Bob's forcefield shimmered as he sat down next to me, the barrier that now prevented him from having someone touch him without my permission elevating him to hover a centimeter or so above the actual chair. Bob derived no more benefit from eating than I did but he seemed to enjoy the ritual of meeting me for meals now that he had the option of walking places. His eyes twinkled in amusement as he took the invitation I offered him, "What's up Boss? You've got that far off 'I'm about to burn half the galaxy by accident while solving a problem' look in your eye pits."

"We've got a job." I replied to the Spirit of Intellect.

"Something pointless, impossible, and borderline suicidal, I assume." Bob commented as his eyes flitted back and forth over the Greek script.

"Probably." I agreed. "Zeus apparently needs someone to solve his murder."

"I'd have Hera as suspects one through fifty thousand, then maybe consider someone else if she's dead." Bob looked up over the invitation, tapping it in thought with his stone fingertips.

"Bob, if it were that obvious they wouldn't need to hire me." I leaned back in my chair. "And it's too early to draw conclusions."

"Conclusions on what, Lord Warden?" The god Enlil inquired as he walked into the room. The Babylonian god's beard was covered in golden ring and silver bells today, jingling merrily as he took his place at the table and started heaping food onto a plate.

"Who killed Zeus." Bob handed the invitation to Enlil.

The Babylonian god raised an manicured eyebrow covered in thick, black makeup as he skimmed the letter. He didn't look up from it as he said, "Hera, obviously. It wouldn't be the first time she killed him. Their marriage isn't exactly picturesque… though it would be the first time she didn't do it in public."

"Spurned lover is always a good motivation." I agreed. "But I'm reserving judgement until I have any evidence. At this point I haven't even seen the crime scene."

"Someone killed Zeus at the Olympics?" Enlil laughed bitterly. "That's either very brave or extremely foolish. The Old Customs rule the Olympics. If anyone gets caught spilling blood needlessly the whole of the System Lords will be turned against them."

"Does that stop anyone from actually doing it?" Bob inquired, playing with a fork between his stone fingers.

"Of course not." Enlil scoffed. "But they're generally not so gauche as to do it without removing the methods of resurrection - especially when we all know how pointless the exercise is. Everyone has a sarcophagus even if they don't have a method of self-cloning."

"Then why do it?" Bob leaned back in his chair. "I mean - they had to know that it wouldn't work."

"I'm not sure if it matters." I considered the matter. "It happened. So they either didn't know that it wouldn't work, didn't care that it didn't work, or they didn't need it to work. Apparently killing Zeus wipes his mind for however long since he last backed up his genetic memories, so maybe killing him wasn't the goal."

"I wouldn't discard the idea of killing him for the sheer fun of it." Enlil's face darkened. "There are enemies who will just do you harm for the joy of doing you harm."

"I don't have enough evidence to even start a theory of what happened." I shrugged. "And I don't know the cast of characters beyond their reputations."

"Luckily for you, you have associates who do." Enlil put down the letter and gave me a serious look as he steepled his ring covered fingers.

"Sorry, Enlil, I think I misheard you. Did you just volunteer to travel with me off Nekheb?" I blinked in surprise. Enlil rarely left the palace of Nekheb, let alone the city. I'd had to outright blackmail him to get him to go offworld the last time I'd needed his help.

"Obviously, child. You haven't got the remotest clue how to conduct yourself in a formal setting. I can't have your formal introduction to one of the greatest powers in the Galaxy be an embarrassment to the Pantheon you've formed. You will bring your sub-lords and you will conduct yourself like a King of Gods." Enlil shuddered briefly. "I don't want another repeat of the Moloch incident."

"Do you have an issue with me going to war with Moloch?" I replied bitterly.

"A war with the moron was inevitable, Moloch's entire economy relies on perpetual war. Nobody can fault you for fighting him. I have an issue with you letting him escape if your plan was to betray your promise of truce and execute him." Enlil popped a piece of fruit into his mouth and spoke as he chewed. "It's sloppy. Don't betray someone you can't kill outright. War is expensive and stupid if peace can be achieve with the stroke of a knife into your enemy's heartstrings"

Enlil's idea of diplomacy was to be polite right up to the moment when one could drive a knife into the back of one's competition. I had no doubt that he would kill me the instant he believed that he could do so without repercussion. But as long as I denied him that opportunity, his limited range of options made him a reliable subordinate. Unethical by any reasonable measurement of morality but he was unquestionably effective as an administrator. Especially effective since he'd hired his new secretary, an apparently mute woman who always wore a burka-like garment that covered her entire body.

She was terrified of me but I found her overt hatred of the Himmelites to be quite endearing.

I still wasn't sure what to do with an entire planet of Nazis but Enlil's strategy of keeping them too busy fighting Moloch to cause too much trouble was at least an effective stopgap until I came up with an actual plan more concrete than my immediate decree to ban the Swastika and appoint Jaffa supervisors to control and monitor the ruling government of Nekheb. I wasn't popular on Himmel but I also gave exactly zero fucks what a bunch of literal Nazis wanted.

"Fine, I could use the extra set of eyes." I sighed, "Especially with Ammit out of commission."

"I have no idea why she is indulging her host this much." Elil groused. "She's just holed up with the Hok'taur children in that monastery. What could possibly require that much secrecy?"

Enlil knew damn well that Ammit was teaching Wizards how to Wizard with the assistance of her host, Nanami. What they were doing was patently obvious. What Enlil was confused about was why I was keeping a small stable of Hok'taur but not distributing them to my underlings. Allowing a practitioner to develop into a Wizard was, in his mind, just begging for another magical rebellion against the gods.

The truth was that I couldn't send the apprentices back to Earth without risking paradox or telling the White Council more about Nekheb than I was willing to disclose till after the Darkhallow. I didn't know what deal Ammit struck with Nanami to convince her host to get the children to stay but given that there were still Brute Squad Wizards and apprentices time-locked in Buyan, I imagine Nanami was already inclined to stick close to her people. I was certain that Ammit wasn't forcing Nanami to stay. I'd soul Gazed the Eater of Souls. I knew her. That wasn't her style.

"I would suggest informing Ms. Mary that her services are required as well." Bob pointed to a line of Greek letters on the invitation. "It would be seen as a lethal insult for your coterie not to include some of your children."

I coughed violently as I attempted to drink wine, "I'm not bringing kids to this thing! You said it yourself, this tournament is lethal."

"The spirit is correct, Lord Warden." Enlil shook his head, jingling the bells in his beard. "We can mitigate the threat by bringing troops - we need to bring participants for the games anyway - but to show up without servants, clergy, and your pet humans would be a sign of fear. You cannot show the System Lords fear."

"I'm not putting those kids in danger." My eyes crackled with glowing embers of red lightning. "Period."

"Then don't." Enlil rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Have your entire honor guard protecting the children while you walk the streets of Olympus without a care. You're durable enough to make that viable and the political messaging comes off better. You don't need to bring the youngest and most vulnerable of them but you do need to pick at least three of them to bring with you."

"I'd listen to him, boss." Bob nodded, crossing his mummified arms and stroking the pointy, jewel encrusted imitation beard attached to the end of his jawbone. "You're at war. Zeus isn't. Your kids aren't going to be in more danger on Olympus under a pledge of peace than they are here under a guarantee of war."

"I am glad you agree with me." Enlil nodded once. "And you will of course bring the spirit as well."

"Ex-fucking-scuse me?" Bob squawked.

"One of us needs to stay on Nekheb to command our forces. It is too risky to have both the risen Lord Warden and Ammit's Hok'taur host offword at the same time. I must go because I am the only one in our leadership who has an understanding of protocol." He glared at Bob. "And you must go because your loyalty cannot be guaranteed once you're out of arm's reach of the Lord Warden."

Said pot to kettle.

"One time - I kinda, sorta, committed treason one time and you never let me live it down." Bob groused. "I came back."

"Because SG-1 doesn't understand that you aren't a person so they allowed you agency." Enlil glared at the spirit. "No, creature, you are too dangerous outside of the Warden's control. You nearly brought us all to ruin."

"Boss - this is crazy." Bob's eyes flitted back and forth. "You're not thinking of actually bringing me are you? Who will run the defenses of Nekheb."

"Traitor's Bane." I replied firmly. "Bob… Enlil is right. Too many people died last time."

"Bad guys." Bob groused. "Too many bad guys isn't exactly a valid metric."

"Enough, Bob." I shook my head. "You're coming."

"Crap." Bob let out a long sigh, an impressive act for someone without lungs. "I'll tell Ul'tak to get the fleet ready."

"Not just Ul'tak." I grinned wolfishly. "Enlil - this is the sort of thing where I want to make an entrance, right?"

Enlil's face grew pale, likely remembering the last time I'd elected to 'impress' back in Egypt. "It… is… what did you have in mind, Lord Warden?"

"Then let's plan to show off." I started running through options in my head, considering everything I'd have to do to put on just the right kind of show. "Bob, how far along are your minions on those new plans?"

"My lunatics are doing exactly what you asked them to do, Sahib." Bob raised his palm, allowing motes of orange light to coalesce into a holographic images that mirrored my specifications exactly. "The prototypes are performing as advertised. They should be ready for a test run."

"Send a runner to the Undercity," I laughed in wicked anticipation. "Tell One Eye we're ready."