Pain.
It was the first thing I felt when I woke up. Not the stabbing kind, or even the fiery, screaming agony one expects after being flayed open and rebuilt from the skeleton outward. No, this pain was... dull. Deep. Like someone had poured molten iron into my bones and let it cool into a solid cage.
I tried to breathe and winced.
Even my lungs ached. My chest felt heavier, my arms thicker, my spine pulled taut as if every vertebra had been reforged in a furnace—which, technically, it had.
Slowly, my eyes blinked open to a gentle amber light dancing across the ceiling. A constellation map shimmered above me, each star a gem embedded in obsidian. The longer I stared, the more I saw—tiny celestial figures moving in lazy loops through the sky. An entire cosmos carved into black stone and enchanted to drift like the real thing.
I exhaled, slowly this time.
My new bed was... divine. Not just in the literal sense. Arges had outdone himself. The mattress cradled every inch of me, cushioning joints and pressure points I didn't even know I had. Layers of silk, velvet, and something that felt like woven clouds made it almost worth never moving again.
But I had to.
With a groan, I sat up, my limbs protesting like rusted gates being forced open. Every joint popped. My bones weren't quite mine yet—they shifted strangely, humming with dormant power I hadn't learned to control. I clenched and unclenched my fist. The knuckles clicked. The tendons twitched. Beneath it all, I could feel the artificial marrow radiating a low, silent thrum.
"Gods..." I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "I feel like I was struck by a mountain."
Beside my bed, a polished ebony table held a goblet of ambrosia and a plate of underworld fruits—night figs, blood-apples, glowing pomegranates from the grove I'd grown outside the River Acheron.
I drank the ambrosia first, grimacing as the thick nectar hit my tongue. It helped. Slowly, the pain began to recede into something manageable—background noise. My senses cleared.
The room was warm, dimly lit, and vast—curtains of deep crimson draped tall windows, and across from me a massive heart crackled quietly with black flame. My office desk stood beneath the windows, stacked high with scrolls and plans, maps and lists. A gift from Prometheus: the desk of an emperor.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Stood up.
My knees didn't buckle. Good sign.
Stretching carefully, I made my way across the room. Every movement still ached, but it wasn't debilitating—more like wearing armor I hadn't grown into yet. With time, it would feel natural. With practice, I'd learn how to shift my bones, grow them, and weaponize them all over again.
Gods, I had spent so long building up the Underworld that I had almost forgotten about the war. The weight of it settled back on my shoulders as I thought about what lay ahead. I needed to consider who I could seek for help. From what I could assume, not a lot of gods were born yet, and those who were alive were not widely known among the others. I already planned to bring about a thousand or so skeleton soldiers, Brontes and his brothers, and Briareus. But who else could join us against Father?
As I dressed, it hit me. Thanatos. The god of peaceful death and one of the most efficient beings under my eventual rule. If I was right, then he was already alive during this time. The problem was that he was Nyx's son.
Nyx. The primordial goddess of night. Even Zeus, who feared nothing, feared her. The thought of standing before her sent a shiver down my spine. If I wanted to recruit Thanatos, I would have to convince her first. The idea of speaking to a Primordial was, frankly, terrifying.
I paced back and forth, running through scenarios in my mind. Hours passed without a solid plan forming. Eventually, I sighed and sat down in my office. That's when it hit me. I didn't have to overthink this. I could bring a gift and simply talk to her. Perhaps respect and sincerity would go further than strategy.
With renewed determination, I got to work quickly. I enlisted Brontes to help me create a beautiful amphora vase. The designs etched into its surface depicted the constellations visible only from the Underworld. Each star was filled with tiny glow stones, and the patterns connected to form scenes of life and death. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and I knew it would be a gift worthy of a Primordial.
From my gardens, I picked Moonflowers, their pale petals glowing softly in the dark, and other rare blossoms that would complement their beauty. As I walked through the garden, I selected fruits that I thought Nyx might enjoy. Being a god had its perks; I could grow any fruit, regardless of its natural climate or conditions. The basket began to overflow with vibrant colors and enticing aromas.
To complete the gift, I summoned gemstones and jewels from the depths of the earth. Emeralds, onyx, and sapphires, each polished to perfection, gleamed in my hands. Hours passed in meticulous crafting, but finally, it was complete. I stepped back to admire my work. The vase, filled with flowers, fruits, and adorned with jewels, was a masterpiece—a tribute to Nyx's grandeur.
Satisfied, I prepared to leave. With a thought, I released my wings as I gave them a good couple stretches to get the blood pumping through them... well inchor now. When I felt ready I launched myself into the air and flew toward the entrance of Tartarus.
The journey through the pit was treacherous, even for me. Winds howled with the wails of the damned, and the darkness here was a living thing, clawing at my form. The oppressive chaos of Tartarus stretched endlessly, the terrain shifting with each passing moment. I flew for what felt like hours until the landscape began to change. The chaotic energy gave way to a cold, eerie calm. The air grew heavier, almost suffocating, and in the distance, I saw it: a black castle, towering above jagged mountains shrouded in darkness, as if wanting to be hidden.
I flew toward it and landed near the giant doors as I nervously rubbed my hands on my clothes as I walked to the door, my wings being pulled back inside my back. After a while I raised a hand and knocked on the door and waited.
The door creaked open after what felt like half an hour, revealing a young goddess. Her skin was pale, her black hair draped down her face like a curtain, and her black eyes peered through it with an emptiness that made my chest tighten. She looked so… drained, so utterly miserable. It clicked in my mind who this was.
Oizys, the goddess of misery, grief, anxiety, and depression.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice flat and devoid of energy, as though speaking to me was a chore she wished she could avoid.
"I come hoping to meet my new neighbors," I replied, keeping my tone respectful but firm as I held up the basket of goods. "I brought gifts."
Oizys stared at me for a long moment, her hollow gaze unnerving. Without a word, she slammed the door shut in my face.
I blinked, taken aback. Before I could react, the door creaked open again. Oizys stood there, still looking as though the weight of existence pressed heavily on her shoulders. "Mother and Father are waiting for you," she said flatly, stepping aside to let me in.
As I followed Oizys through the castle's dark halls, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander, taking in the unexpected beauty of my surroundings. The inside of the castle was a lot less dark and gloomy and felt a lot more like a home.
Oizys moved silently ahead of me, her form a stark contrast to the gentle beauty of the castle. Her lifeless demeanor almost felt out of place here, yet somehow fitting, like a shadow lingering at the edges of a starry sky.
Finally, we reached a set of towering doors that swung open effortlessly at her touch.In the center of the chamber stood a dais, and atop it were two thrones. My eyes were immediately drawn to the figures seated upon them.
The first was Nyx, and even though I had braced myself for her presence, this tall woman with long black hair and even blacker eyes that seemed to reflect the night sky in them. She was leaning on her throne bored as she watched us enter.
But it wasn't just her that caught my attention. Sitting beside her was a figure that sent a chill down my spine. At first glance, he seemed unimportant—a frail, silver-haired man with pale skin that almost seemed translucent. But then I looked closer. His aura was dark, almost suffocating, a stark contrast to the quiet beauty of the room. Though that didn't stop him from looking like some mafia boss as he sat on his throne.
What truly disturbed me, however, was the faint flicker of his life force. I could see it—barely. His essence was dim, fading, like a candle struggling to stay lit in a storm. This man wasn't just old—he was dying. Who was he?
My mind ran quickly as I pondered it as we walked forward toward them, that is when it hit me. Erebus the Primordial of Darkness.
I stopped at the base of the dais and inclined my head, presenting the basket with both hands. "Greetings, Lady Nyx and Erebus. My name is Hades, the eldest son of Cronus and Rhea. I came to bring you a gift and to ask for an assistant."
Nyx's lips curved into a faint smile as she gestured for me to place the basket before her. "Ah, I have heard of you. I must say, little godling that your shadow reaches into the depths of the Abyss. Tell me, why have you come here?"
I looked down as whatever I said next had to convince her to help me. "As you know, my siblings and I are waging war against our father and the Titans. The main reason I came here was to seek help with the war. I also come in hopes of finding anyone that would be willing to come work for me in the Underworld, I am offering them good pay and a place to live in Elysium."
"The Underworld, is that not that land that is above Tartarus? You took it over?" Nyx asked amused.
"Yes, and if you and your husband ever visit. I ask that you check out the gardens as they are the centerpiece of the Underworld." I said.
"If the time comes, then we shall check it out." Nyx said. "Now tell me what kind of help you are looking for?"
I drew a steadying breath, organizing my thoughts. I had expected skepticism from her, but I needed to ensure she understood the importance of this request. "Thanks to Prometheus, a new race called humans have begun appearing in the mortal world—the problem is that when they die they wander on earth, get trapped on their way to the afterlife, and even sometimes return to their bodies and continue to live far past their time. As the god of the Underworld and Souls, it's my responsibility to ensure every soul reaches the Underworld and is properly sorted. But I can't shoulder this alone."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but in calculation. "And you believe my children are the solution to this problem?"
I nodded. "Yes, I need help in making sure that they are brought to be judged. And I also need an assistant to help me take care of things."
Nyx tapped a finger on the armrest of her throne, her expression hard to read. For a second, I thought she might just shoot me down then and there. But after a long, heavy pause, she finally spoke.
"You come here asking for my children's help," she said slowly. "But you're offering nothing in return—no guarantees. How do I know they won't be overworked, underappreciated, or treated like servants?"
I met her gaze without flinching. "I get it. And I'd never disrespect your family like that. Thanatos, Keres, Moros—they wouldn't be under me, they'd be working with me. Allies, not subordinates. They'd have real responsibilities, a say in what they do, and proper recognition for it. I'm planning to build them homes in Elysium, and they'd have the freedom to come and go as they want."
Nyx tilted her head slightly, her midnight hair falling over one shoulder like ink spilling down stone. She studied me in silence, and I could practically feel her weighing every word I said.
"And what exactly do you get out of this?" she asked finally. "You're not just here out of kindness."
I nodded. "No, I'm not. I'm here to build something stronger—an alliance. The Underworld and your house have a lot in common. If we work together, we both benefit. Your children get a chance to expand their influence, take on roles that actually match their strengths. And I get their support as my domain grows more complicated."
A silence settled between us again. Then Erebus, who had been silent the whole time, shifted in his seat. His voice was deep, calm, and commanding.
"A partnership like this needs more than words to stand," he said. "There should be an exchange. Something real. Something that ties our houses together."
I turned to him. He wasn't loud, but his presence demanded attention. "Alright. What kind of exchange are you talking about?"
"I am thinking that we should have a marriage arrangement," she said. "If you wish, you may choose from among my daughters."
I blinked. Not out of shock—though yeah, that too—but more at the sheer weight of what she was offering. A daughter of Nyx? That wasn't just politics. That was power, legacy, and an entire shift in fate. I stayed quiet, unsure how to even respond.
My mind wandered—how in the myths, Hades never went through something like this. He just showed up, snatched Persephone, and that was that. But I wasn't that Hades. My story wasn't written in stone. I had choices. I could go down a different path entirely.
Still… who in their right mind would say no when Nyx offers one of her daughters in marriage?
I let out a slow sigh and gave her a respectful nod. "I'm honored, truly. But right now, I can't focus on marriage. We're on the edge of war. My father won't rest until I'm either kneeling or dead, and I have cities to build, souls to guide, monsters to chain—and set free. So for now… it'll have to wait."
Nyx and Erebus shared a look. They said nothing for a few long moments, and then Nyx simply nodded.
"That is acceptable," she said. "This arrangement can wait. I'll send my sons and daughters to the Underworld soon. They shall feel honored to serve in such an interesting god."
I smiled faintly. "Thank you. Lady Nyx."
Erebus stood, getting my attention as he stepped down from his throne, the darkness around him thickening.
"For quite some time, I have watched you," he said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to tug at the edges of the room. "Every time you teleported through the shadows or when you managed to transform it into butterflies, I noticed it all."
I stood straighter, sensing where this was going.
"I want to offer you something else," Erebus said, eyes boring into mine. "The domain of Darkness itself. Since you have a minor control of shadows, I want to give you this domain and see exactly what you can do with it."
I said nothing, breath caught in my throat. The weight of his offer wasn't lost on me.
"But," he continued, raising a single bony hand, "it is not something I will give just like that. Power like this must be earned. And you are still young, and have quite the arsenal of domains lined up."
I nodded slowly. "So what's the condition?"
Erebus said simply. "Win your war. Tear the crown from your father's head. Only then will Darkness be yours. Show the world exactly who you are, who the eldest son of Cronus is."
I stared at him, heart pounding. This wasn't just power—it was a declaration. A test. A door.
And I was being asked to walk through it.
"…Then I'll earn it," I said, voice steady. "And when the war is over, I'll take that domain."
Erebus gave a single, slow nod. The chamber darkened for a moment, as if the night itself approved.
Nyx smiled faintly from her throne. "Then it is settled."
And just like that, the meeting was over.