Oceanus sits on his coral throne, his gaze falling upon his son. Poseidon steps forward, armor gleaming. "Master, our preparations are complete. Our army will soon advance on Mount Othrys."
"Hmm… Be victori—" Oceanus begins, but his words are cut short as the entire palace shudders. The ocean beyond the windows churns violently.
Poseidon instantly arms himself, his trident humming with power.
"Oceanus…" The deep voice of Pontus echoes through the hall, resonant and ancient.
Oceanus is on his feet in an instant, stepping forward with deep respect. "Yes, Lord Pontus?"
"Something… grand is happening in the Underworld. Go. See it."
A single thought flashes through both their minds: 'The Underworld… Hades!?'
As Oceanus prepares to leave, Poseidon interrupts. "Fer, let me come with you."
Oceanus sees the determined fire in his son's eyes and gives a grim nod. "So be it. Do not leave my side." Their bodies disintegrate into pure water, which then sinks into the earth itself.
They rematerialize in the void beneath the Earth realm. Poseidon's eyes widen. Before them stretches an immense, flawless black sphere, so vast its edges vanish into infinity.
"We are not the only spectators," Oceanus says quietly, pulling Poseidon behind him. He gestures to the shadows where other Titans and divine beings watch, their forms shimmering with wary energy.
Suddenly, Atlas lunges from the darkness, a comet of rage aimed at the black sphere. He never reaches it. An invisible barrier flashes, repelling him with catastrophic force. The Titan crashes against the earthen roof of the void with a world-shaking impact.
Above the sphere, dark smoke swirls and coalesces into the forms of Nyx and Erebus. Their combined auras erupt, a pressure that turns the void to stone. Oceanus grunts, throwing himself in front of Poseidon. The backlash is immediate; he coughs, vomiting a spray of golden ichor.
"Master!" Poseidon cries, his face etched with worry.
"Do not act!" Oceanus commands, his voice strained. He wipes his mouth. "We are mayflies before such power. Remember this feeling. You will face it again." The lesson is imparted not with words, but with the taste of his own divine blood.
Nyx's voice cuts through the void, cold and final. "Heed this warning. Do not pry into the affairs of the Underworld, unless you have no love for your life."
Her eyes lingered on Atlas, who trembled, his body broken, his courage shattered. That glance alone was punishment enough.
The message is received. Oceanus, along with the other watchers, immediately retreats. Back in his palace, Oceanus sinks into his throne, the image of the primordials burning in his mind. He waves a dismissive hand. "Leave me, Poseidon. I must… contemplate."
Once alone, he leans back with a groan that holds a thread of dark amusement. "From this moment, the primordials are no longer neutral. The world will drown in chaos." A wise, calculating smile touches his lips. "This will make the game far more interesting."
---
In the newborn Underworld, the realm is almost complete. Only the final adjustments remain.
But the five minutes are over.
Hecate collapses to the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Hades remains standing. He places the crystalline shard from Tartarus into his mouth. "Rest. I will finish this."
The fragment ignites within him. It does more than energize him; it supercharges him, a wildfire of primordial power his current form was not meant to contain. His skin splits, and black ichor wells from the cracks, sizzling as it drips onto the newborn earth. He grits his teeth, enduring the agony, and violently channels the torrent of energy into the realm's core.
The violet star pulses one last time and vanishes, its work done. The Underworld is reborn.
Hades flies high into the sky. Below him stretches a barren landscape, lit by the dim, perpetual sun Hecate created. He raises his hands, which flare with Abyssal Flame.
The central temple grows larger and more grand. To the west, the Gate of Tartarus rises from the rock. To the north, Elysium blooms into the most beautiful land in all creation. To the east, Asphodel forms, a plain of neither great beauty nor utter desolation.
From Tartarus, a desert spreads to the north, a barren wasteland to the south, and a land of lava and erupting volcanoes to the west. From Elysium, a dense, evergreen forest climbs to the north. From Asphodel, a land of lakes forms to the north, high mountains and canyons to the east, and an arctic land of glaciers to the south.
The panicked beings floating in the void feel a gentle force lower them until their feet once again touch the solid, blessed ground of their reborn home.
Hades's voice rings out, the law of reality itself.
"Styx! Flow from the Earth realm and enter my domain from the south. You will form the boundary of the entire Underworld!"
As he commands, a silver thread of water pierces the dimensional barrier, carving a solemn channel around his kingdom.
"Phlegethon! Originate from Tartarus. Your fiery flow will bound the desert, the barren lands, and the volcanoes, ending where you meet the Styx!"
"Lethe! Originate from Elysium. Your waters will separate the northern forest from Elysium's fields, and end at the central border."
"Acheron! Originate from Asphodel. Your sorrowful path will divide the plains from the northern lakes and mountains, meeting your end at the center."
"Cocytus! Originate from the glaciers. Your icy lament will form the boundary of the frozen south, ending at the central land."
The river gods obey. Their waters flow from their origins, carving their designated paths until they all converge at the border of the central land. There, they do not simply meet; they fuse in a brilliant, silent explosion of light. From this confluence, a new river glows with vibrant blue light, and from its waters rises a teenage boy with hair of flowing azure. He bows to his creator.
"Thank you, my Lord, for my life. I am Eridanos."
Hades gives a curt nod and continues his work. He divides the sky itself into four layers: the first, the normal sky; the next, the Arcane level, filled with mist and nebulas where the solar body resides; above that, the Dreamland; and finally, the dark void where Nyx and Erebus dwell.
"One final task," Hades murmurs, descending to the ground. He forms a well of pure Twilight Flame. As it stabilizes, the Reincarnation Cycle clicks into place, and the entire Underworld thrums with stable, eternal power.
A surge of energy floods Hades. His power ascends, breaking through to the lowest level of God King. But the cost is absolute. His body and mind, pushed far beyond their limits, give out. He collapses where he stands, as the first true day of his reign begins.