"Had fun enjoying your time with your mates?" Vulcan asked, voice low, a thick bamboo staff resting against his shoulder. The very same bamboo that had painted Hades's stomach in harsh red strokes.
The redhead hung upside down from a massive branch, legs hooked over the bark, body tense. This was his punishment—a lesson carved not through words, but through silence, pain, and gravity. His hair draped downward like a crimson curtain, hiding the flush on his cheeks. His abdomen stung, but not a single groan escaped him. Discipline had been beaten into his bones long before this moment.
The reason for punishment? Hades nearly lost a bottle against the last beast he faced.
Vulcan didn't move at first. He simply stood there, arms crossed, eyes cold with the authority of a man who had seen too many children drunk on power and die for it. "Tell me, Hades. What did you learn from your last battle?"
