I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

The marble halls of the temple seemed endless, their pristine surfaces reflecting the soft, ethereal light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Zafron walked beside Aphrodite, studying her from the corner of his eye. She moved with an effortless grace that made even the simple act of walking look like an art form.

"So," he ventured, breaking the comfortable silence, "what exactly did you want to show me?"

A knowing smile played at the corners of her lips. "You'll see soon enough." Her voice carried that familiar warmth, but there was something else there too—an underlying current of authority that reminded him that for all her playfulness, she was still very much a goddess. "I think you'll quite enjoy it."

The way she said it sent a shiver down his spine. Everything about her commanded attention, from the subtle sway of her hips to the confident set of her shoulders. She wasn't just beautiful—she was powerful. The kind of power that didn't need to announce itself because it was simply understood.

'Like a queen,' Zafron thought, then corrected himself. 'No, more like... yeah, definitely CEO energy.' He almost laughed at the modern comparison, but it fit. She was someone used to calling the shots, making decisions that shaped realms.

"This place is vast," he commented, gazing around at the seemingly endless corridors. "There must be so much to explore."

Aphrodite's expression didn't change, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Explore? Like my books, which you did NOT vaguely go through?"

Zafron's heart stopped for a moment. His mouth went dry as he scrambled for an explanation. "I... uh..."

She laughed then, the sound echoing off the marble walls like music. "Relax. It's nothing." She paused, her expression growing thoughtful. "You know, mortals are such fascinating creatures of desire. Always seeking, always wanting..."

"But what most don't realize," Aphrodite said, her voice dropping to a honeyed whisper, "is that gods..." She began to circle Zafron slowly, each step deliberate and graceful. Her fingertips trailed along his shoulders as she moved, barely touching yet leaving trails of fire in their wake. "We're not so different."

Zafron's breath caught in his throat. The way she moved reminded him of a panther he'd once seen – all liquid grace and contained power. Every gesture seemed choreographed to perfection, yet entirely natural.

"I was the first," she continued, completing her circle to face him. Her eyes, those impossible depths of azure and gold, locked onto his with an intensity that made his knees weak. "The very first to truly understand desire in all its forms."

She lifted a hand, examining her fingers as if they held secrets. "Before me, even the gods were... fumbling in the dark." A knowing smile played across her lips. "They thought desire was simple. Primitive." She laughed, the sound like warm honey dripping down his spine. "Oh, how wrong they were."

As she spoke, the air around them seemed to thicken, become charged with something electric. Her presence filled the space between them like a physical force. "I discovered every nuance," she purred, taking a step closer. "Every... single... way." Each word was punctuated by a step, her hips swaying like a pendulum of temptation. "The art of the tease, the power of denial, the sweet agony of anticipation."

Zafron found himself backing up until he hit a pillar, trapped between cool marble and her overwhelming presence. She wasn't just beautiful – she was beauty itself, distilled into human form. Her eyes held centuries of knowledge, promises of pleasures he couldn't even imagine.

"I taught the art of seduction to the greatest lovers in history," she continued, her voice carrying notes of pride and sensual authority. "Cleopatra? My student. Casanova?" She smirked. "Amateur, until I showed him the way." Her fingers traced patterns in the air between them, leaving faint trails of golden light. "Every sigh, every touch, every kiss – I discovered them all."

The temperature in the room seemed to rise with each word. Zafron's mouth had gone dry. He tried to swallow but couldn't quite manage it. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it.

"You see," she murmured, leaning in close enough that he could smell her natural scent– an intoxicating blend of exotic flowers and something otherworldly that made his head spin. "Desire isn't just about the act itself. It's about the build-up." She dragged her nail lightly down his chest, not touching him but following the line of his tunic. "The tension." Her eyes, half-lidded now, promised things that made his blood run hot. "The anticipation of what's to come."

Zafron blinked, his mind catching on a detail. 'Wait a second,' he thought, 'is she saying she invented all the... styles?' The thought was both fascinating and slightly terrifying.

They reached a massive doorway, and Aphrodite pushed it open with a gentle touch. Inside was a vast chamber, stretching farther than Zafron's eyes could see. Row upon row of empty shelves lined the walls and created aisles that seemed to go on forever.

"You did me a great service," she said, her voice echoing in the empty space. "Walking through limbo, helping me heal. Before I join Eros at the council to restore order, I wanted to give you your reward."

Zafron's eyebrows rose. "Reward?"

"Yes." She turned to face him, her expression both serious and playful. "Whatever you desire. Name it, and it's yours."

He stared at her, taking in every perfect detail from head to toe. 'Is this really happening?' he wondered. 'A literal goddess offering me anything I want?' His mind raced through possibilities. The flying cart like Cassandra's in Drakoria? No, that seemed too... mundane for this moment.

What did he want? The question echoed in his mind as his eyes kept returning to Aphrodite. Finally, a smirk spread across his face, and he pointed.

The smile that bloomed on Aphrodite's face was indeed the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She met his gaze, head tilted slightly. "Is that your final answer?"

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"So be it," she murmured, stepping toward him. But Zafron held up a hand, stopping her.

"Wait," he said, his practical side asserting itself. "How would this even work? This is limbo—literally the space between life and death. Doing anything... mortal... here feels strange." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Plus, my real body is back in the mortal realm."

Aphrodite's expression was patient, almost amused. "Tell me something, Zafron. Can you feel the air here?" She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. "Can you feel that? Do you experience pain, joy?"

He nodded slowly.

"Then there's your answer. In limbo, all things are possible." Her voice was soft but matter-of-fact. "The rules here are... flexible."

Zafron shifted uncomfortably. "Still, the situation feels... odd." He looked around the empty chamber. "The whole setting is just..."

A knowing smirk appeared on Aphrodite's face. "I might have a solution for that."

She waved her hand, and suddenly the air was filled with floating spheres of transparent white energy. They hovered like soap bubbles, each one perfectly formed and glowing with a soft inner light.

"These are desire globes," she explained, gesturing to the countless orbs around them. "Each one contains a different scenario, a different setting. Pick one, and it will create the perfect circumstance for your desire."

'Oh,' Zafron thought, understanding dawning. 'Like a... choose your own adventure, but for...' He felt his cheeks warm at the thought. Still, it made sense. Of course the goddess of desire would have something like this.

He began walking among the globes, studying them carefully. They all looked identical, with no obvious labels or markings. A thought occurred to him, and before he could stop himself, he asked, "When you said you explored all kinds of desire... with who?"

Aphrodite's cheeks actually colored slightly—a sight he never thought he'd see. "Perhaps it's better if you don't know," she said, smoothing her dress with an almost nervous gesture.

Then her composure returned, and that familiar confident smile reappeared. "Why don't you let me choose?" The way she said it made his heart skip a beat.

'This is really happening,' he thought, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. 'I'm about to... with the actual goddess of...' He couldn't even complete the thought.

Aphrodite moved among the globes with purpose, her eyes scanning them as if she could see something in them that he couldn't. Finally, she stopped before one that looked exactly like all the others to Zafron's eyes.

"This one," she said, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "This one will be perfect."

Zafron swallowed hard, watching as she reached for the globe. Her fingers brushed its surface, and the transparent sphere began to glow brighter. The air around them seemed to shimmer, reality beginning to shift and reform.

'Well,' he thought, his heart racing, 'this is either going to be the most amazing experience of my life... or I'm about to make a complete fool of myself in front of a goddess.'

The light grew brighter, enveloping them both, and the vast chamber with its endless shelves began to fade away. The last thing Zafron saw before the transformation was complete was Aphrodite's knowing smile, full of promises and secrets yet to be revealed.

Reality shifted and settled around them like a veil being drawn aside. Zafron found himself in a luxurious room he'd never seen before, warm light casting intimate shadows across plush furnishings. But what caught his breath wasn't the room – it was Aphrodite.

She'd transformed. Gone was the ethereal goddess with flowing golden hair. Before him stood a vision in mortal form – a brunette whose dark waves cascaded down her back like silk. Her eyes, though still holding that immortal spark, were a deep, mesmerizing brown that seemed to pull him in. The change only enhanced her allure, making her somehow more tangible, more... attainable.

Zafron glanced down at himself, surprised to find his usual attire replaced by strange blue garments. The material was tough yet comfortable, clinging to his legs in a way that felt foreign yet natural. 'Jeans,' his mind supplied, though he'd never seen their like before.

"Choosing me as your desire," Aphrodite purred, her voice carrying a new earthier tone that sent heat coursing through his veins, "proves you have excellent taste." She moved toward him with feline grace, each step deliberate and hypnotic. "Though I can't say I'm surprised. Mortals, gods..." A knowing smile played across her full lips as she reached up to trace a finger along his jaw. "They all succumb to what I represent. What I am."

Her touch left trails of fire on his skin, but something in her words sparked a question in Zafron's mind. "But have you?" he asked, surprising himself with his boldness. "Have you ever truly experienced desire yourself? The way it should be?"

Her smile turned enigmatic, a flash of something – vulnerability? interest? – crossing her features before disappearing like smoke. "Ask me that again when we're finished," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Right now, I want to see just how potent that seed of yours really is."

She pulled back slightly, amusement dancing in her eyes. "I can sense your thoughts, you know. A goddess – how could you possibly match me?" Her laugh was rich and throaty. "Don't worry. I'll keep things within the limits of your..." she ran her gaze down his body appreciatively, "less than godly form."

A movement caught Zafron's eye. On a nearby table sat an hourglass he hadn't noticed before, its sand trickling down with impossible slowness. Each grain seemed to pause mid-fall, as if suspended in honey.

"Your reward," Aphrodite said, pressing herself against him in a way that made coherent thought difficult, "will last as long as the sand continues to fall." Her fingers slipped beneath his strange new shirt, nails grazing his skin. "Think you can handle that?"

Zafron stared at the hourglass, torn between elation and despair. The sand was moving so slowly it might as well have been frozen in time. He didn't know whether to thank the gods or curse them.

His internal debate was cut short by Aphrodite's mouth finding that sensitive spot just below his ear. "Stop thinking so yh much," she murmured against his skin. "We have all the time in the world... or at least until the last grain falls."