[Third Person's POV]
[Location: Palace of Hades, Underworld]
With a lazy wave of his hand, Hades dismissed the lone soul reaper.
"Run along," he said mildly. "You've done your job."
The reaper did not need to be told twice.
He bowed so hard it bordered on self-annihilation, clutching the trembling ledger to his chest, and fled the hall at a pace that suggested the concept of dignity had been permanently abandoned. The moment he crossed the threshold, the palace doors closed behind him—not with a slam, but with a quiet finality that severed the last thread of mortal observation.
Now, there were only two beings left in the hall.
Hades, seated casually upon a throne that had ended epochs.
And Acedia Belphegor, standing before it like a man who had wandered into the wrong room and lacked the motivation to leave.
The silence deepened.
Not the polite kind.
The real kind.
The kind where reality leaned in to listen.
