Hermes stood at the edge of the Stoa Market Center, watching the crowd. His golden staff caught the afternoon light. Souls got lost here every day, trapped between worlds. He needed to guide them through the shadowy gates below. That was his purpose. That was everything. He needed a place to do his work properly. The market center buzzed with life and death, both mixed together. Lost souls wandered past living shoppers, unable to tell which world they belonged to anymore. A proper structure would help them see the path. A place where confused spirits could find peace and direction. Hermes lifted his golden caduceus. The two serpents twisted around the staff, their scales gleaming. Wings spread wide at the top. He touched it to the ground, and light poured from the tip. Golden marble rose from the earth, column by column. Crystal formed between the pillars, catching every ray of sun. Water cascaded down in gentle falls. The Hermesean Stoa took shape before him, glowing with purpose. He strapped on his winged sandals and stepped onto the first marble tile. The building hummed with energy. Here, he could finally guide the lost ones safely. Here, every wandering soul would find their way through the gates. His dream had taken form in gold and stone.

Hermes stood inside his new Stoa, watching a translucent figure drift through the entrance. The spirit's eyes were clouded and confused. She reached toward the crystal walls but her hand passed through them. He needed to learn how to actually help these souls, not just build them a pretty structure. The woman turned in circles, her mouth moving without sound. Hermes stepped forward and raised his caduceus. Golden light poured from the staff and wrapped around her like a ribbon. She stopped spinning. Her eyes cleared. She looked at him and nodded once before fading into peace. His chest tightened with purpose. One soul guided safely through. Thousands more waited in the shadows. He walked outside and planted his golden caduceus in the ground. The staff would signal when new souls arrived, ready for passage. The winged tip glowed faintly, already sensing something. A gate stood ahead, forged from black marble and trimmed in gold. Skulls decorated the frame. Dark vines twisted across its surface. The Gate of Hades. This was where lost souls needed to go, but first they had to understand what came next. Three spirits appeared near the gate, drifting without direction. Hermes approached them slowly. One reached for the skulls and jerked back. Another tried to speak but made no sound. He needed a way to prepare them, to help them accept their journey. A boat rested near the gate, wrapped in green spectral smoke. The vessel's frame was gilded wood, worn but solid. Charon's ferryboat. He gestured to it and the souls turned to look. He raised his caduceus again. Golden light spread across all three spirits. Their confusion melted away like morning fog. They moved toward the boat, no longer afraid. One by one, they stepped aboard and faded through the Gate of Hades. Hermes lowered his staff and took a breath. He was learning. Each soul he guided made the next one easier. This was his purpose, and he was finally doing it right.