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Chapter Text

Long ago, in the distant land of Ancient Greece, there was a golden age of mighty gods and extraordinary heroes. The greatest and strongest of all those heroes was the mighty Hercules, who ended up marrying Megara after saving her from her fateful destiny, but everything wasn't a “happily ever after” end.

Two years later, Hercules and Megara joined their lives in a fantastic wedding that took place in the middle of the countryside. Megara gave birth to a beautiful girl named Erianthe. She was lively and very creative, and she lacked any kind of power. Instead, she possessed great artistic talent.

Three years later, Zenos came into the world. He was an identical copy of his father, Hercules, but unlike him, he did not possess an enormous strength.

All was peaceful; the four of them lived very happily together with Hercules' adoptive parents. His friend and trainer, Phil, and Pegasus. They formed an atypical family, but even so, they lived happily and well together. In those times, with no dark lord of the underworld, no monsters lurking, and no natural disasters, Hercules decided to work in a stone quarry to bring money home. On the other hand, Megara took care of her garden and grew vegetables, and once a week, she went to the market and sold some bouquets of flowers that she prepared.

But, happiness did not last long; Greece had a strong animosity with the Persians until one day war was proclaimed between the two nations.

People from all parts of Greece were called to their ranks, and city states recruited all healthy men of age to fight in battle. This time, the Greeks were going to go to Persian territory to defend some territories they had across the Aegean. So Hercules was recruited to fight in the army.

“Daddy, don't go! I'll be good, I promise! But don't go,” cried Erianthe uncontrollably while she was hugging her father's legs.

“Sweetheart, I'll be fine. You'll see how, before you know it, I'll be back with Pegasus and Phil.” Hercules said to her, sweetly caressing the head of his 6-year-old daughter. “Promise me you'll take care of everyone while I'm gone, promise?”

“I promise, Dad!”

“That's my girl! Take this; now it's yours.”  The hero handed the little girl the golden medallion with the symbol of the gods engraved on it that he was given as a baby.

“Give it back to me when I return.”

Erianthe held the medallion in her little hands and looked at her father.

“Yes, Dad, I will treasure it.”

“Take care, my hero,” said Megara, who was holding Zenos in her arms. She looked at Hercules with glassy eyes because the love of her life was going on the most dangerous mission of his life: the war.

“Oh, Meg, don't cry. I will come back; you know that.” Hercules approached his wife and caressed one of her cheeks. “I will always come back to you, my love,” and he kissed her in the most gentle way, trying to memorize the warmth and softness of her lips.

“Hercules, I love you; don't forget it.” Megara could no longer hide her sadness and embraced her husband, but immediately the youngest of the household protested that he could not breathe. Hercules took him into his arms.

“My little Zenos! Behave yourself.” He hugged Zenos and kissed him on the forehead. He immediately fell asleep, and Meg grabbed him from his father's arms.

Finally, he said goodbye to his parents, who were already old. They looked at their son with sorrow, as they did not know if they would see him again. While Hercules said goodbye, Phil prepared the bags that Pegasus was going to carry, and then he said goodbye to the whole family, especially to Eri. He had a soft spot for the little girl.

It was time to say goodbye. On the same day they were going to leave from the port of Thebes, everyone watched how the ships were moving away from the coast until they became black dots.

The village of Hercules overlooked the sea, and Erianthe stared into the distance while the ships were lost on the horizon. She begged to her grandfather, Zeus, to stop the war, but she did not get an answer.

The years passed, and Greece was sinking into misery. From an early age, children had to work to bring money home; dreams were forgotten by many, and survival was the top priority. The tyrant king of Thebes sacked every fortune “for the sake of all them”. Although the situation was indeed tragic, Erianthe never lost hope and kept looking to the horizon, hoping that her father, Phil, and Pegasus would return home.

Chapter Text

…9 years later…

In the darkest place in the world, a dark figure emerged from the depths of the waters of the dead.

“Damn! You filthy, stinking souls. I'm free at last!” The dreaded god of the dead, Hades, had broken out of his prison and was really furious.

“Pain! Panic! Where are you?!”

At the sound of their master's voice, Pain and Panic looked at each other with horrified faces. For years, they had done what they wanted in the underworld. Yes, they did their duty to the souls; otherwise, the purgatory would have collapsed. Plus, Charon would be on the verge of a nervous breakdown and would threaten them with a strike or even retirement.

“Coming! Your most lugubriousness,” answered Pena nervously, running through the corridors together with Panic.

“Oh no, we won't get out of this one, Pain. He'll mutilate us!” said an agitated Panic, who always feared the worst.

When they reached the bank of the river of the dead, they saw the lord of the underworld, tired, gaunt, and angry.

“Boys. I see you are glad to see me,” said Hades in a sarcastic tone. “Tell me, how long have I been in the river?”

The two little imps looked at each other with wide and frightened eyes, for they did not know how their cruel master was going to take the news.

“You see, your malevolence…” began Panic, hesitating what he was going to say. “Time is very relative…”

“Yes, it's not as much as you think,” added the always-recurrent Pain, “just a few years…”

“How many years exactly?” The god cut them off impatiently. The minions swallowed hard before saying it in unison.

“Seventeen years, sir” they answered in a whisper, trying not to be heard by their master, but a god cannot be fooled so easily, especially not the lord of the dead.

“Seventeen years!” he exploded with rage. His flames turned completely red, burning everything around him, including Pain and Panic. “And what did you do that you didn't get me out of that pit of filth?”

“Sir, we tried! But it was useless” lied Pain, on his back he had a hand with his fingers crossed.

“The good thing is that we took care of the souls,” added Panic quickly, to ease the god's anger.

Not pleased, Hades advanced to the throne room. Everything was still the same: the hole that Cerberus left when he entered with Hercules on his back, all the destruction he had caused out of rage when he lost everything because of Nutmeg and her stupid, noble actions to save Wonderboy. In addition to all that, there was dust accumulating everywhere and paperwork unsigned by him.

Although they hadn't lied, those rascals, at least all the forms were filled out. Also, he noticed that on one side of the throne was a mountain of mail, or more likely, missives from Olympus.

In conclusion, the underworld was a pitiful mess. He needed someone to sort it all out, everything, but first and without leaving the main subject: What had happened during all this time?

“Well, well, guys, I see that at least the business is still going on. Nevertheless, I will be mutilating you until I get tired every day.” The two little devils looked at each other, scandalized by the punishment that had befallen them, but at least it didn't send them to Tartarus.

“Well, where do we start? Ah, yes, boys, what has become of my dear nephew?” Hades told them as he sat on his throne and materialized a cigar, which always calmed his nerves.

“Sir, Hercules, and Meg got married, and years later they had a girl and a boy, but best of all, Greece is at war with the Persians.” Panic began to tell him. “Yes, yes, and he was recruited to fight!” added Pain.

“Oh! Are you trying to tell me that Jerkules is dead?”

“Mmmmm, no, sir. At the moment, his soul has not yet arrived, nor has that satyr's.” At that, Hades became annoyed and continued. “The good news is that the death rate has gone up quite a bit.” To that comment, the lord of the dead paid more attention and indicated his subordinate to spill more details. “Yes, yes, not only on the battlefield, but all over Greece!”

“That's excellent, guys! If I'm not mistaken, are mortals starving?” said a smiling god of the dead.

“Yes, sir. Besides, there are many more catastrophes and monsters.” At that, Hades was surprised that his nephew was not there to prevent it, which was a wonderful thing. But what truly amazed him was that the other gods abandoned the mortals to their fate without caring a little bit.

“More catastrophes, more monsters?”

“Uh, yes, sir, the monsters after trying to take over Olympus.” At that, the god began to light up, so the little imps tried to pass the subject as quickly as possible.

“Dispersed throughout Greece, not being in command by anyone, they attack wherever they want,” said Panic a little hesitantly.

Pain continued with more news: “The catastrophes are arising because the gods of Olympus are paying more attention to the war that is happening in Persia than to what is happening in Greece”. Very typical of them, thought Hades. “It is said that Zeus does not stop controlling what is happening.”

“So you are telling me that they have left Greece unattended?”

“That's right, sir,” nodded the two minions of the god of the dead at the same time.

“This is great. Do you know what this means, guys? That I have complete freedom to do whatever I want to Meg and her offspring”, said the Lord of the Underworld very enthusiastically. “Moreover, there is a matter that was not completely solved. It is time for us to pay a visit to our dear Meg, don't you think, boys?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Very well, bring me my invisibility helmet. First, let's go and see what's going on up there.” With that in mind, Hades smiled, as he hadn't done for a long time, for his revenge had just begun.

Chapter Text

As the lord of the underworld was scheming his revenge, a new day was about to start.

“Eri! If you don't get up, you'll be late for work,” shouted Meg at the bottom of the stairs. Her two children slept upstairs, but as usual, Erianthe had overslept once again.

“Zzz… What's all the fuss? Mm… The sun hasn't risen yet,” mumbled Eri in bed, about to turn over and go back to sleep.

“Eri for the last time! You'll be late!” repeated Meg, this time knocking on her eldest daughter's door. This child never learns; Morpheus is excessive in putting the mantle of sleep over her.

“Oh my, it's true! I have to go to work!” and with that, Eri woke up with a start and jumped out of bed, tripping over the sheets in the process. “Ow! That hurts!”

“What are you doing on the floor, Eri?” asked her mother, leaning against the door frame.

“Well, you see, mother, I was admiring this fabulous wooden floor; it's a masterpiece of rustic architecture,” answered in a sardonic tone her beloved daughter. Eri and her occurrences, thought Meg, made it obvious that she was her daughter; after all, she was as sarcastic as her.

“Come on, get up. Breakfast is ready.”

“But mom, your day doesn't start for another three hours. You should go back to bed and rest. Don't tell me you've already chopped the wood.”

“No, I haven't yet,” and before she finished speaking, Eri rushed out of the room to the backyard, where all the wood that needed to be cut was piled up. Without hesitation, she grabbed the axe and started chopping the logs at full speed. She wasn't going to let her mother do it.

“Eri, it's not necessary. I'll do it later. Come in for breakfast; besides, have you noticed that you're still in your pajamas?” Meg reproached her and immediately followed her daughter to the yard.

“Mom, I promised to cut the firewood, and I will!”

“But Eri…”

“No buts, Mom! You can't carry the weight of everything by yourself! Otherwise, the same thing that happened a couple of years ago will happen to you again!” Meg's firstborn replied, annoyed. “I don't want to lose anyone again.”

Meg watched as her daughter broke down. She had a strong temper, and she was almost always in a good mood, especially since she had a lot of energy, but occasionally the circumstances got the better of her.

Without thinking twice, she approached her daughter and hugged her. It hurt her to see her like this, but what hurt her more was that she was still a child, a child with adult responsibilities.

“Ssh, relax, my girl. Everything will be all right, you'll see,” she said, trying to calm his daughter's spirits. She noticed that it had worked.

“Yes, mom, everything will be fine, but that's why you don't have to carry the weight of everything. We must help each other and share the tasks.”

“You are right, honey, but you should also apply that advice to yourself, okay?”

“Okay, mom,” and with that, Meg gave her daughter a kiss and walked into the house, leaving her to finish chopping the firewood. What neither of them had realized was that in the distance, just where the forest began, a peculiar trio was watching them:

“Sir, this is where Meg and all her offspring live,” Panic commented.

“How old she is! The only good thing is that she is still looking hot,” added Pain.

“Have you seen the girl with the orange hair? That's Meg's daughter. She's pretty cute, isn't she?” Panic laughed.

The two little imps went on with their gossip without noticing that Hades wasn't playing along. He was just watching. He watched the girl chop wood non-stop. It was obvious that she was not skilled with the axe, but she was stubborn.

He couldn't help noticing that she was wearing a thin nightgown that reached above her knees. It was a fabric that occasionally clung to her body from moisture or sweat, causing it to accentuate her delicate figure.

Her orange hair, which so reminded him of his dumb nephew, was long, waving in the light breeze of the early morning.

From his distance, he could not distinguish much more, so taking advantage of the fact that he was wearing the invisibility helmet, he approached the girl.
Already in front of her, he noticed that she was not very tall, although he would not deny that he was above average, since he was a God.

Suddenly, Eri stopped chopping wood. Something was not right; she felt as if she was being watched, so she raised her head and looked in all directions. On the other hand, Hades thought, she's got me, but when he saw that the girl was back to her own business, he unintentionally let out a sigh of relief.

This time she looked straight ahead; she had heard someone, and she even smelled something strange. Sulphur? It couldn't be. She was imagining things, and she was still sleepy.

Hades, for his part, had been petrified. The girl was looking him straight in the eyes, as if she knew he was there. Her eyes were blue with a touch of lilac color, her upturned nose had subtle freckles, and her lips were quite full. Pain and Panic were right. She is cute, but what am I thinking? The lord of the dead said to himself that his main goal was to take revenge on that whole family.

That was his moment. She was defenseless, so he could do something to her; he could scorch her. But, he wanted to see them suffer, so the lord of the underworld was ready to reveal himself in front of that insignificant mortal until he heard someone's hurried footsteps:

“ERIANTHE!” yelled the little Zenos.

“But what are you doing up? Ugh!” Before Eri could answer, Zenos rushed at her and knocked her to the ground.

“Good morning, sis!”

“Zenos you should be asleep. It can't be that every day you get up at the same time as me; it's still early in the morning.”

Without stopping hugging his sister, the youngest of the family replied:

“But if I don't get up early, then I can't see you, and we can't play.”

Seeing her brother's sad face, Erianthe got up together with her brother. An idea had occurred to her.

“Zenos wait for me; I'll be right back.” His little brother nodded and went into the house, searching for breakfast and work clothes.

“What do you want all that for?” said his mother with an arched eyebrow.

“I'm going straight to work, mom. I'm taking breakfast and clothes to change. I'm going to wash up in the creek.”

“Are you out of your mind? At this time of day? Eri don't” Before she had finished, her daughter had already gone out to the courtyard, where her brother was waiting for her.

“Come on! A race to the creek! The last one is a cyclops with conjunctivitis.” The two brothers ran without stopping to a small stream nearby.

Meanwhile, Hades watched the scene dumbfounded, so he decided to follow that crazy girl and her brother. When he arrived, he saw the two brothers playing in the water without stopping. They stayed like that for a while until Eri got out of the water and went behind some bushes to change.

Hades noticed how his body temperature increased, but he didn't make a move to spy more than what he observed: toned legs, tanned arms, etc., although, in his opinion, and for his taste, she was thinner than he expected. He watched as she dressed in numerous layers of old, worn, and grimy clothes that, obviously, were too big for her.

Finally, Eri put on gloves, a helmet with huge goggles attached by a strap, and a travel cloak that she was dragging along.

When she finished dressing, Eri came out from behind the bush without noticing that three sinister figures were constantly spying on her. She approached her brother, who was sitting on a rock, wrapped in a blanket that her sister had brought so he wouldn't catch a cold.

“Well, little one, it's time for me to go to work,” Eri said a bit sad.

“Do you have to go?”

“Of course I do, Zenos. With what they pay me, we can eat the three of us; just think that with mom's job, we wouldn't be able to survive.”

“I understand, Eri.”

Eri signaled her brother to get up from the rock and go with her. The two of them were walking along, holding hands. They said nothing to each other, as neither of them needed it. Eri knew that her brother depended on her a lot and that if it were up to him, he would go with her to work. But it was not a safe place for a child, so he always went with his mother to the field, where he could play with more children who were waiting for their mothers to finish work.

They reached the main road, where they had to separate:

“See you in the afternoon, Zenos,” Eri told him, leaning over and giving him a kiss on his brother's forehead.

“Okay, but don't be late getting back home, okay?”

“Of course, I will be back on time. Don't doubt it.” As she was about to leave, she noticed how something grabbed her robe, and it was her sibling who was about to cry.

“When is it going to end?”

“I'll finish when the sun is at its highest, Zenos, don't you…”

“I don't mean that! When will the war be over? I want to see Daddy. I want him to tell me about all his adventures, like when he fought the hydra or when he saved Mommy from the river of the dead.”

“I see you remember all the stories I told you about him.” Eri looked at her brother with much affection and gentleness, for he was very little when their father left and didn't have many memories of him. “Don't worry, Zenos; I have hope that he will come back.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I'm sure! A promise is a promise. Remember,” she winked at her brother, and left for the crossroads where the four main roads met.

“Goodbye, Eri, have a nice day!” Zenos said goodbye to his sister and hurried home, where his mother was waiting with dry clothes and a bowl of warm milk.
The underworld trio watched the scene. Pain and Panic waited for orders from their master to see what they would do.

“After the girl boys”, said Hades, so they set their course towards the path Eri had taken.

They walked for a quarter of an hour until the girl sat down on a huge stone that just marked where the crossroads met. Another quarter of an hour passed until a huge wagon with people stopped in front of her.

“Good morning, you have Eri! Are you ready for a new day of hard work?”

“What else can I do, Acrisius? I need to be ready for whatever the day brings.” And she got on the wagon and paid the usual one coin per round trip. She went to the end of the wagon, where it was empty, sat down, and adjusted her traveling cloak by putting on her hood, as it looked like it would rain.

“By the gods, what a day we have ahead of us,” said Acrisius, pulling the wagon. What no one had noticed was that they had three stowaways: an invisible one sitting next to Eri and two little demons transformed into bugs.

“Next stop: Thebes Quarry.”

Chapter Text

…1 hour later…

The cart was arriving at its destination. The quarry of Thebes was one of the busiest places at that time, since the king did not cease his whims. When he wants a statue built or a temple, no one could argue with the king. In conclusion, it was a place where you had work, for sure.

Hades could see how Eri had just finished breakfast, as he had not had time to play with his noisy brother. “So a quarry…”, the lord of the dead said to himself. He couldn't believe that a child of the son of Zeus would end up working in a quarry.

Now that he looked closer, anyone in the wagon opened their mouths; in fact, they were all crestfallen. Eri hid her face under her hood and could not see her empty look. On the other hand, he could see how she kept moving her fingers in circular movements over and over again. She was nervous. Why?

“Whoever you are, I know you are following me.” Eri suddenly blurted out.

Hades turned pale. He had felt it all this time and had not said anything. “What a strange girl,” he thought.

“You'd better go home. You won't see anything new here, only people with spikes and digging dirt as if there were no tomorrow.”

In response to that comment, she turned her face toward where she thought his companion was. What Hades saw was loneliness in those eyes. Now those eyes were looking at him with so much sadness, and to think that just a few hours ago they seemed very lively.

“I know you're there because of the smell of sulfur, if I'm not mistaken.”

“So that was it, smart girl and so sharp,” in the twisted mind of the lord of the dead, who was beginning to finish off the remaining pieces of his plan, “this girl will be of great help to me,” he thought.

Eri sighed. Her companion, whatever it was, was also mute; she knew there was something next to her. She noticed it. She noticed warmth and the smell, but the most noticeable thing was that she was being watched.

“Last stop! Thebes quarry! Don't forget your personal belongings and leave the cart one by one,” said the driver, Acrisius.

Eri got up from her seat, as did Hades, as he had to move out of the way so that the girl would not stumble on her way out.

Once down the cart, she walked along with the people arriving at the quarry gate, towards some huge wooden doors. They were closed, but as soon as an alarm sounded, they opened wide, revealing a place full of hooded men in black.

Everyone was silent. Hades remained standing next to Eri. She was nervous, and he did not understand why, nor did he understand why he had the irremediable need to hold her hand, to which he attributed it to “the stupid nervousness that was spreading all over the place”.

At the top of the atrium, there was a very short and chubby man. From his tunic, he took out a roll of parchment, opened it, and began to read:

“Good morning, dear employees! The king lets you know that he is satisfied with the work on the new sculpture that can be seen in front of the palace. However, he believes that we need to lighten up on the work and be more productive. Finally, today we will start tearing down the west wall to build a new one in the northeast. The lucky ones for the demolition are workers numbered from 30 to 50. The others will start with the construction, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they all shouted at the same time.

“All right, so let's get to work, you know. Grab a pick and shovel.” With those instructions, the small man came down from the atrium and stood next to the men in black.

Hades couldn't believe it. What was that all about? Was that how mortals always worked? Without realizing it, he stood right behind Eri. They had all made a perfect single row, and one by one they were passing in front of the chubby man.

“Let's see, 80, 37, 65, 21, 74…” The short man was checking the list, and the workers were showing a number written on their forearms. “Did they have them tattooed? How barbaric,” thought Hades.

It was Eri's turn, and he was curious about her number:

“Congratulations, 38. You're up for demolition.” Eri simply nodded while the little man stared at her ass. Hades had to restrain himself from burning him, but again, he had to repeat to himself that this was not his problem.

He followed the girl to a pile of picks and shovels. There, she picked them up and went to grab some ropes. They all went about their business; they looked like empty bodies that moved without will.

“Good morning, 38,” said a dark-haired and tanned boy.

“Good morning, 32,” Eri answered without a hint of emotion in her words. She was only responding out of politeness.

“Ready to knock down walls with a pickaxe?” The tone between them began to change, but they were whispering, as if they were not allowed to be on a friendly basis.
“I was born ready. Do not doubt it,” Eri said. This time, the girl answered with a sly smile.

The two headed towards the western sector, where more hooded men armed with whips were waiting for them. They already knew what to avoid if they did not do what they were not supposed to do.

Everyone in the quarry began to work, but not before singing a song:

Let's work!
It's time to rock and roll!

Let's pick and dig,
No time to stop.
No time to rest.

One, two, pick!
One, two, shovel!

One, two, pick!
One, two, shovel!

What's the difference?
We don't care!

Welcome to the quarry!
No matter if you are a man, a woman, or a child,
Work never hurts!

For money
We come to work.
For our sake
We work our asses off.

Let's pick and dig,
No time to stop.
No time to rest.

To survive in this quarry
Obey the rules.
If you don't, you will die, for sure…

The hours went by, and the pace slowed down. At this rate, they had managed to bring down most of the thickest rocks.

Hades observed that most of the crew were no more than twenty; all of them were very young, even some younger than Erianthe. He was really getting bored to death, as he had sent Pain and Panic to inspect the quarry and get information about it.

One of the younger workers had fallen to the ground, exhausted. Immediately, a hooded man approached and began to punish him harshly.

“Get up, you sack of bones! The wall won't fall down by itself.” The poor kid was screaming in pain. Eri helped him up, but when he went against the rules, he got a whip all over his leg.

“AAAAA!” screamed Eri in pain, who started to bleed from his thigh.

“Keep working, you scum!” Hades was about to explode with rage, but at that moment, part of the wall collapsed, revealing a huge cave.

Everyone looked on in astonishment because, according to the maps, there shouldn't be a cave there…, but what they weren't prepared for was the monster that emerged from it.

“A manticore! Run!” Shouted a man.

And chaos broke out in the Theban quarry.

Chapter Text

“I was running through the forest, without looking back, without any direction to go, without any thought in mind. My lungs were burning because of how fast I was going. I didn't know if I could keep up that pace any longer. My legs were getting heavier with every stride I took, and my wounds hurt like hell. My ears could only hear my breathing and the beating of my heart, which seemed to come out of my mouth.

I couldn't stop. Indeed, I shouldn't. If I did, the man-eater would tear me apart.”

…15 minutes earlier…

If someone had told Eri that she was going to have a different day from all the others, she would not believe it, as normally, days were almost the same: work and more work. If someone told her it was going to be hectic, well, she would still admit it and tell you, “Oh yes, in the quarry we have a frenetic schedule.”

But if someone told her that today would be so entertaining, they would, more precisely, find the lair of a hungry man-eating creature. To that assumption, she would honestly laugh and tell you, “You have given the wine a good drink,” but after all, that is accurately what they have done.

There stood Eri, motionless, next to the boy they had beaten, who was now trembling with fear, for she felt it too. She felt the fear slowly take hold of her, while she saw how the beast was not only destroying the machinery they were using, but also attacking the men it had at its mercy.

What was she supposed to do? She was paralyzed. Her mind was screaming, “Run!” But her body was not reacting. She was in shock. Not many times did she have a monster in front of her. Immediately, the manticore faced where they were and started to approach.

At that moment, he remembered some words that Phil had said to her:

“When you are in danger, remember rule 95: Concentrate! Don't let panic invade you, and above all, rule number 15: a hero is worth what his weapon is worth”.

That's when Eri started to react. “A weapon, a weapon,” she said to herself mentally.

“Aha! I've got it!” She saw a pickaxe on the ground and grabbed it. She put the little boy behind her while she put herself in a defensive position.

Hades watched the scene from a safe distance. He didn't want to get involved in this mess. “How foolish, defending herself with a pickaxe,” thought the flaming god. He was going to witness the possible death of the daughter of his greatest enemy, but for some reason he did not want anything to happen to her. “What are you thinking about? No, of course I want her to die, but not like this; I want to see how the whole family suffers. Especially, my dear nephew Jerkules, when he comes back from war to see that he has nothing left,” his twisted mind had another plan that might work.

“Number 48, I mean Asclepius, as soon as I tell you to run, run as fast as you can, okay?” Eri indicated this to the frightened boy.

“But Eri, what about you? It will tear you apart!”

“Don't worry about me and do what I say, okay?” Asclepius nodded, and while Eri saw how the monster was only ten steps away from where they were, he noticed that above the monster, there was a net with stones that they had put aside before the demolition. “That's it!” She just had to cut the rope. No… With the pickaxe, she wouldn't break it the first time, but she could unbalance the pulley with one blow.

When the manticore was positioned in the right place, she rushed to the wheel of the pulley cart, where she had a safety device to stabilize it and prevent it from moving. She hit it with her pickaxe, and immediately, the weight of the net full of stones, fell on top of the manticore.

“Now, Asclepius, run away!” shouted Eri, who was also getting up to escape. The boy fled as fast as he could, although his wounds stung. In the distance, he saw number 32, Patroclus, with a group of men, all of them armed, so he went towards them.

The rocks were of no use to the manticore to get back on its feet. It was now enraged and had its eye on its next victim: a succulent boy.

Asclepius heard the monster's roar and looked back: it was staring at him! The manticore was after him! Nervous, he stumbled and fell face to the ground.

Eri watched in horror as the beast was about to attack Asclepius, didn't think twice, and swung his pickaxe at the man-eater monster, which hit him right in the head.
There was silence in the quarry. “She's crazy!” thought those present when they saw the girl's performance; even Hades and the imps could not believe it. Either she was very brave, something that came from her family, or she was stupid, something that could also be hereditary.

“Pick on someone your size, you monster!” Eri shouted at the huge manticore, which turned around and roared with rage.

Erianthe didn't think twice and ran like crazy. “I'm so stupid! Pick on someone your size. What a thing to say!” she thought as she ran for her life.

She ran and ran and ran into a dense forest. She knew it was following her. Not only that, but she knew if she stopped, it would kill her. She could hear the branches creaking as it stepped on them with its claws, and she could even smell its putrid breath.

Suddenly, she saw how the forest was gradually disappearing, giving way to an embankment and then a cliff. “It can't be!” She thought, terrified, that since she had no escape, she was completely cornered.

She stood at the edge of the cliff, observing the height and considering her chances of survival. Null. She heard the rustling of dry leaves and slowly turned around to find the manticore watching her with its feline eyes. She knew she was at its mercy, just waiting for the right moment to attack.

She was freezing, and she didn't realize that it had started to rain. She thought about how to get out of it, thinking that she was not going to see her family again. Likewise, she looked everywhere, looking for an escape route, but she found nothing. She saw that she had no options, so she decided that if she was going to die, she would die fighting!

She bent down to pick up a branch thick enough to hit the monster, and as she did in the quarry, she got into a defensive position.

The manticore licked its lips. What a foolish mortal! With a stick, she had nothing to do, but it was time to end the game. It rushed at Erianthe to give her a bite, but she protected herself with the stick.

The monster struggled with the girl, who did not let go of the stick that protected her from those powerful jaws, but it was to be expected that such a beast would have much more strength than a mortal. With the stick in its jaws, it shook Eri with such force that she was thrown away, hitting her head with the trunk of a tree.

“AAA!” she cried out in pain. She was on the ground in a daze. She felt a hot liquid sliding down her cheek. Furthermore, she felt weak, numb from the cold of the rain, and tired after running away. Moreover, she was about to faint before being devoured by a manticore.

“Somebody help me…” was the only sound she could articulate.

Hades had just arrived. “Holy mama! She's fast!” he thought, but he immediately saw the macabre scene: Erianthe lying on the ground, bleeding, and a hungry manticore about to eat her.

One would think that this was what the Lord of the Dead was seeking for the daughter of Hercules—a slow and painful death—but no, all revenge is done in due time.
He removed his helmet, revealing his figure in front of those present. The manticore raised one of its sharp claws to kill Eri who was about to faint, but before it could deliver its deadly blow, it was attacked by a fireball, which hit the monster right in the face. A roar of pain was heard, for it had been blinded.

Disoriented, the manticore went backwards without noticing the cliff behind it. Taking advantage of the moment, Hades shot another fireball at it, hitting it in the side. This caused the manticore to lose its balance and fall into the abyss.

Erianthe was on the ground, watching what was happening with stupefaction. Who would attack with fireballs?

Before she lost consciousness, she turned around to see who saved her, for she could only glimpse a dark figure with a blue flame on his head. She could only manage to mumble a faint “thank you”.

Chapter Text

Where am I? It’s so dark. Am I dead? How strange; I don't feel cold or warm—nothing. Wait! I can see a light!

I ran to the blue light. A blue light? That's weird. Since when is the fire blue? The most important thing is that I've started to feel warmer. Quite a lot, indeed, not to mention that the light was coming from someone and not something. Wait, someone is emitting fire from his body? And also, that fire is blue? How unusual.

“I see that you have come, mortal.” The person in front of me was talking to me, but his back was turned to me, and the only thing I could perceive was that he was an imposing and tall figure.

“Who are you?” Were the only words I could manage to say.

“Me?” The figure turned around, and I could see yellow eyes watching me. “I am your owner! Your soul is mine for all eternity.”

Hades watched as the girl in the hospital bed stirred, as if something was hurting her. “Did she have some other wound he hadn't seen?” He thought, worried. Worried? What nonsense! But something about Hades made him have a certain soft spot for that mortal, and he didn't know why. From the moment he saw her, he already thought she was special, but he didn't understand why he helped her against the manticore, and he knew it was because he didn't want to see her die.

How stupid! Of course, he wanted her to die. But not in that way, but to suffer even more, to endure what he had suffered for all these years trapped in the vortex of souls, and yet he was concerned that she might be wounded.

When the other quarrymen saw what was happening, they rushed to take the girl's body to the hospital that Hippocrates had opened. The one who was more worried was the boy who had met her at the beginning of her shift. Which was something he did not like, especially since he was the one who had been in charge of carrying the girl to a cart. “Why do I act like this? What difference does it make if she's being carried by a mortal?” Until a thought crossed his mind—because you wanted to carry her yourself— that puzzled Hades.

He looked at his hand. He remembered how he had caressed Erianthe's bloodied face; even if it was bruised, he could still remember the warmth and softness of her skin. “Hades, you are losing your mind,” he said to himself. His mission was to take revenge, but for that, he had to watch and wait to strike at the best moment. He has a feeling that it wouldn't take him long to put his whole plan into action.

“NO!” Erianthe woke up startled. She had had a nightmare. Thank goodness, she thought.

Hades got startled. What a scare that brat had given him! Apparently she was shaken by a nightmare, not because she was hurt. He felt relieved.

Erianthe smelled that sulfur smell again. She knew that someone was there in the room with her. The same “person” who had been following her from her house to the quarry. She even remembered that someone had saved her from the manticore. And that someone gave off the same smell.

“I know you're there,” she said, taking the courage to speak to him. “You've been following me all day.” Erianthe tried to sit up, but immediately had to lie down again. She felt as if she had been hit by a cart. “Ouch, where am I?”

Hades made the motion to help her, but restrained himself. “Wow, now he wants to talk to me. She knows I'm here. How does she know?” Hades thought. He wanted to have some fun, so why not?

“I have nothing else to do.”

“Well, you must be bored to be killing time with me.”

“Hahaha” Hades was amused that he just used the phrase “killing time”, if he knew he was talking to the god of the dead. “To be honest, I was not bored at all. What an outstanding performance with that manticore!”

“You saved me, didn't you?”

“Me? Pfff, no. It was someone else who was passing by.”

“Don't lie! It was you; you saved me, but why did you do it?”

Damn it, Hades, think of something believable, something like…

“Because otherwise I'd be bored if you got killed.” BINGO! I'm such an idiot.

“Thank you,” whispered Erianthe.

At that point, Hades was speechless. It was not often that he was speechless, and even less because of a mortal. He looked at her, and the girl had her gaze fixed on where he was trying to spot, with no luck, who owned that voice. He had already noticed her blue eyes. They were undoubtedly beautiful eyes, but what surprised him was the sincerity he saw in them.

Not only that, but he had never felt this way before. No one had ever thanked him, or at least it had been eons since they had done so. There she was, the daughter of his worst enemy, wounded and bruised on a hospital bed, totally helpless. And the only thing Hades did was smile and tell her.

“You're welcome.”

A warm smile came to Erianthe's face, a smile as bright as the sun, even brighter than the sun that Apollo carried in his chariot. It was a smile she would not mind seeing every day, but what the hell was happening to him? Bloody mortal…

Hades didn't even have time to curse how terribly cute that brat was when the door to the room opened and the chubby little man from the quarry appeared.

“Well, well, number 38. How lucky you were! You survived the attack by that monster. I'm glad you're okay, especially because a faithful worker like you would be a terrible loss,” he said with a false smile. It was obvious that he was only there out of interest.

“Mr. Pancras shouldn't have bothered to come, I…”Eri was nervous; it wasn't good news that this short man was there. That was something Hades noticed. He looked at him with a sense of disdain, especially since he had interrupted his conversation with the brat.

“Young lady, don't worry, as I wasn't going to come,” and he moved closer to Eri's stretcher. “We have to talk about something crucial: the hospital expenses and the hours you were absent today.” Erianthe's eyes went wide; of course, the presence of the quarry supervisor was not good news. He wasn't worried about her; he was worried about the money.

“Sir, I apologize. I will compensate for the hours I missed today.”

“My dear, I already know that. These hours are valuable. I was counting on you to make them up, but the medical expenses are beyond my means. I have to discount them from this month's pay.”

“But…”

“SILENCE! There are no buts about it! And, don't be rude, or you would rather have been left bleeding to death in an alley!”

“No, but, you can't do that! Without money, my family.” Erianthe was on the verge of tears; without money, she wouldn't have anything to feed her family. Although every month she saved something for emergencies, it seemed that this was going to be one of them.

“Of course I can. I am your boss! That number on your wrist is proof that you work for me. I can decide your destiny in the quarry. For this insolence, you should be fired.”

“Well, well, Pancras. Don't be like that. You're scaring her, aren't you, honey? Besides, you know she has another option, don't you?” Everyone in the room was silent, since that voice came from outside, and it was a woman's voice.

A tall, slender woman entered, with long black hair and eyes as blue as sapphires. Hades saw that she was a stunning woman, but there was something about her that he did not like. He looked at Erianthe who was sitting on the bed. She became pale, and he could discern from her demeanor that this woman had frightened her. He didn't like to see her like that. He would rather see that smile from a few minutes ago. A smile that could light up even the underworld.

“My dear, don't listen to this grumpy,” she said with a sweet voice, trying to charm Eri.

The chubby man looked at the woman with complete adoration.

“My lady, excuse me. I was just going to tell her the other choice. Girl, get out of bed and allow me to look at you.”

Eri looked at him without understanding why he wanted her to get up, but she could not refuse. That man was the right hand of the king of Thebes. It was better to do what he asked without contradicting him, so she got up with some difficulty, since her whole body hurt and the wounds were very recent.

Once she stood up, Eri noticed that she was wearing a rather thin white robe. It was not transparent, but it covered just enough, exposing several areas of her body, such as her legs, arms, and some of her chest. That made Erianthe blush. She felt like a piece of meat because of the way he looked.

Hades was losing his temper. He had never been a very patient god. He wouldn't deny that, but he didn't like how the chubby man was looking at Eri. Likewise, he was devouring her with his eyes, and although he couldn't deny that the girl had a good body, that situation was disgusting. “I want to burn that guy,” thought Hades.

“Excellent, yes. You're just what the king was looking for,” smiled Pancras. “Right milady?”

“You are right, Pancras, but let me talk to her alone about her other option. Would you mind waiting for me outside?”

“As you wish,” he said, bowed, and left the room.

“Well, well, how insensitive he is. It's better this way, isn't it? Let's have a girl talk, shall we?”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Eri ducking her head and without looking at her eyes, since there was something in her look that intimidated her.

“I don't know if you know who I am, my dear”

“You are the king's high priestess, aren't you?”

“Yes! Very well. How clever you are! My name is Finn, and you are the firstborn of Hercules and Megara, or am I mistaken?” said the priestess with a satisfied smile when she saw Eri's shocked and terrified face.

“How do you know who I am?”

“I am a priestess and an oracle. I'm perfectly aware of who you are and what your name is, Erianthe. By the way, what a beautiful name! It means as sweet as flowers. Who gave it to you? Don't tell me, your father, right?”

Erianthe was totally petrified. She didn't know what to do, but what she did know was that she wanted to get out of that room, away from that woman. Hades could feel Erianthe's discomfort and wanted to get her out of there, but he could not. Something told him that woman was dangerous, and he didn't like the way she was talking to Eri.

“Well, I'm going to tell you the choice you have, Erianthe. I have foreseen you're 15, but you're just about to be 16, so that's good news!”

“Why do you say that?”

“You're perfect. You're the kind of girl the king is looking for. He'll pay you very well; however, you'll only be able to enter as soon as you turn 16.”

“What?” At this point, Eri was confused, and it wasn't because of the blow she had received on the head, but because she didn't understand anything.

“Yes, my dear, when you turn 16, you can enter the king's court and be one of his courtesans! Isn't that wonderful?” Finn exclaimed.

“But I don't want to be a courtesan, I... I'm fine working in the quarry; really, I'm good at it.”

“Eri, Eri, may I call you, Eri? There are no buts or excuses. The girls who enter the court are invited to serve in the palace to fulfill all the wishes of his majesty. The best part is that you and your family will not be lacking anything. Besides, do you think you have a choice? Do you think you can decide about your future? Your destiny was decided from the moment the war started, from the moment your father left to fight at the battlefront.”

For Erianthe that moment hurt her so much. It hurt her to remember that day. The High Priestess was aware that she had succeeded. From her pocket, she took out a small crystal ball. She whispered a few words, and it began to glow, but the most incredible thing was that the image of a little girl appeared—her image nine years ago when the war was declared.

“You've always been such a cute little girl, Erianthe.” The image showed her in a field of flowers, picking a few flowers and making a crown out of them, something her mother had taught her.

“Daddy! Look, I already have a made crown!” and suddenly in the crystal ball appeared her father, Hercules, just as she remembered him.

Erianthe could no longer stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. It was so hard to remember that day again, but more so to see her father and not be able to hug him. Hades watched as that oracle was manipulating the brat's feelings; “that was what he had to do”, but he couldn't bear to see her cry.

“My little flower, what a beautiful crown! Who is it for?” The picture showed a happy Hercules bending down to see his daughter's handiwork.

“For you!” And she put it on her father's head, crowning him like a king.

“It's perfect, sweetie.”

At that moment, drums were heard, and as soldiers approached the hero and informed him that he was recruited to fight, Hercules, without a hint of hesitation, replied that it was an honor to go to fight on the battlefield.

“Stop it, please,” Eri begged.

“Oh, come on, girl. Can't you handle the past, can't you?”

Finally, the crystal ball showed how Eri said goodbye to her father and how her last memory was watching him leave.

“You don't have the right to look into my past.”

“Haha! Don't make me laugh. I'm an oracle; I can see everything about you, and I see that you won't be able to run away from your destiny.”
“I'd rather go fight on the battlefield.”

“You? A woman? You are a dumbass. Women can't fight, and, as you know it, your only option to survive is to spread your legs. Thank the gods for your pretty face. It will open doors for you to a better future. Believe me, it's your only option. When do you turn 16? And don't lie; I want to see if you are honest.”

“In 6 months, on March 20th.”

“That's great! When spring starts, and we don't have to wait long. I hope to see you by then, or else.” Finn's face changed completely. “You'll wish you'd never been born, brat.” The oracle's eyes opened, and it was like looking at a viper.

Erianthe wanted to scream. She felt as if she were going to suffocate. She had gotten herself into a big mess.

“Come on, don't make that face, but don't expect your father to come and save you. Besides, I have to say that you are not only beautiful; you have a pure heart as your soul.” Eri looked at her and could see a cruel smile creeping on her face. “Be careful, daughter of Hercules, or someone will eat you up.”

And with that, the high priestess left the room, leaving Erianthe kneeling on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Chapter Text

Erianthe felt empty at that moment, kneeling on the floor of the hospital room, remembering again the last days she spent with her father before he left. She always tried to be strong and positive, but she couldn't deny that the memory still hurt.

Hades watched as the girl sobbed, and every now, and then he heard the girl saying “daddy”, like a faint whisper. He had been watching her all day, and he already knew what her Achilles heel was—her family. It was obvious that they were the most important thing to her, especially her father and how traumatic it had been when he went off to war. He had to admit that this situation made him uncomfortable. To him, family meant nothing, and all this sentimentality disgusted him, but in part, he knew how she felt.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but ironically, it took him an eternity to witness Erianthe cry, and he didn't understand why, on earth, a part of him wanted to comfort her. “This isn't like me at all. I don't know what this child is doing to me,” Hades thought.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and the guy from the quarry appeared. “What's that damn brat doing here?” He wanted to blast that kid, but he had to calm down and not make himself obvious, or they might notice that the room was getting hot.

“Eri, what are you doing? Get up!”

Eri just looked at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying. It bothered her that Patroclus was talking to her that way. She was beginning to feel trapped in that room. The walls were getting closer and closer, as if they were going to crush her and consume her in agony and sadness. The loneliness in her heart felt like she was a prisoner.

She had always been able to count on her childhood friends, and although circumstances had kept them at a distance, they had always been able to help each other, especially her best friend Patroclus. He was there to support her and keep her feet firmly on the ground, not dwelling on her suffering and struggling to move forward. He was always reaching out to her and reminding her that they had to overcome any adversity.

She glanced towards the corner of the room and could still sense the presence of that being due to the faint smell of sulfur. For some reason, she felt embarrassed that this person had witnessed something so personal. It was still difficult for her to decide if it was good or bad. She was not that naive, and something told her that this presence could bring trouble, “although talking to him is nice”.

Patroclus was right and could not be “defeated” by the words of that woman:

“Don't tell me you've been eavesdropping.” Eri answered. She knew her voice sounded dry and raspy, but she simply didn't want anyone to see her or, as Patroclus had done, to hear how vulnerable she was.

“I wasn't going to leave you alone in the hospital, and especially not when I saw that pervert of Pancras and that high priestess witch.”
“It's like you're not a pervert, hahaha. You know you can't be here.”

It was true. If they discovered he was there, he could get into a lot of trouble, as it was forbidden to forge any kind of relationship beyond your family. It was an absurd law of the king to divide the population and keep the distance between everyone.

“Ha, ha, you're very funny.” The boy exclaimed with pride, “I know how to admire a woman's beauty.”

Eri couldn't stop laughing. Patroclus had a funny sense of humor; he rarely showed that side of him, but he always did with Erianthe.
“As the saying goes, family breeds contempt.” She thought amusingly.

“Thanks for coming, Pat, but don't just stand there and help me up. My back is aching.”

“You're acting like an old lady, hahaha. I'll have to grease the wheels on your cart.”

“Stop making fun of me. I've been attacked by a manticore. Everything hurts, even my eyelashes,” she replied, pretending to be annoyed.

“I'm telling you, you're getting old.”

“You should respect your elders, Pat.”

“Pff, don't give me that, Eri. You're only 5 minutes older than me.”

“Enough for you to respect me as the eldest!” said Erianthe with an air of self-sufficiency.

After that comment, the two looked at each other and started laughing. The truth is that they enjoyed those moments when they joked and had fun; basically, they were still kids who had to carry the responsibilities of an adult.

Hades looked at them with irritation. It pissed him off that they got along so well, and had such an intimate relationship. But he understood that they were born on the same day, almost at the same time, so they had been raised together all their lives. Which meant he could not possibly compete.

“The brat will know when I get the girl for me. He won't be able to joke anymore”, thought the god of the underworld, while he was already scheming his plan.

Suddenly, a noise was heard outside the room, and the two boys immediately shut up. Luckily, it was a nurse who was going to the next room, but that was the signal to start thinking about getting out of there.

“Patroclus, help me to pick up everything. We have to get out of here. I have a bad feeling,” and without saying it twice, the young boy picked up his friend's belongings and helped her to get up.

“Ouch! It hurts,” complained the daughter of Hercules. Although her injuries were not serious, she felt that her body was numb, so Patroclus decided to carry Eri on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” Erianthe was very embarrassed by this situation, but she really had no choice.

“Do not complain. Come on! Let's get out of here before the guards come in. I have a gut feeling that they will come looking for you, and if they catch me here, it will be even worse.” They went out the door quietly.

Lucky for them, there was no one around, and they were able to go straight down the corridor to some auxiliary stairs, which not many people used.

Patroclus was a skinny guy, but he was strong and fast; carrying Eri, who didn't weigh much, and racing as much as the situation allowed him, was a piece of cake.
They walked down the stairs to the basement of the hospital because there was a secret there. The fact is, there was a subway hospital dedicated to the community that could not pay the medical expenses—basically, almost the entire city. It had been the idea of Hippocrates himself, who always thought of curing others above their social status, regardless of whether they could afford it.

Anyone who went down to the basement would not see anything out of the ordinary. Behind a tattered shelf was hidden this clandestine place, which also connected with several places that wanted to go unnoticed in the eyes of the king.

Patroclus moved the shelf, and the two passed. Although he was about to close, he noticed that something else was going on, as if there was another person, but he did not see anyone, so he did not give it any importance. What he did not know was that the Lord of the Dead himself was following them and was curiously observing this new place.

“What a filthy basement,” Hades thought. The room was big and plain. It had many columns and some torches that made it look dark. It feels like home, but with living people instead. And he was not wrong.

Throughout the room, there were many stretchers, several of them together with injured or sick people, almost on the verge of death.
“Hold on, Pat. Put me down. I'm going to change in the janitor's closet over there; I'm still wearing my hospital gown,” said Eri because she couldn't go on like that.
The boy asked, hastily, “Do you need help?”

“No way. I'm old enough to tie my sandals. Besides, I'm not going to let you grope me,” Eri told him, even though she knew he was teasing her.

“That's so Meg,” Hades thought.

The boy laughed and put Erianthe down on the ground. He quickly went to the closet and changed into her work clothes. They were dirty and stained with blood.

“Damn,” Eri thought, knowing she'd have to come up with an excellent excuse to show up at home looking like that.

“Okay, I'm ready. Where should we start ?” She couldn't finish her question because a boy on crutches approached them.

“Guys! What brings you to Thebes underworld? Are you here to deal?”

“As if you were a drug dealer, Tadd,” Patroclus shot back at him.

“Oh, come on, you guys have no sense of humor.” Tadd was a short boy due to a problem with his legs. When he was a kid, he had an accident that almost left him paralyzed, but with great determination, he regained some mobility. However, his legs never fully developed properly, which is why he needed crutches to walk.

Despite this, he always had a great sense of humor and remarkable intelligence. In fact, everyone who knew him knew he was a genius. “So, what brings you… by Hera, Erianthe, what happened to you? You look, you look.”

“Hurt?”

“No, I was going to say horrible, but that's also a good question. Are you hurt?”

Everyone stared at the boy in disbelief, though Patroclus and Erianthe were already used to him. Hades, on the other hand, was stunned and thought, “Great, a weirdo.”

“Well, you see, Tadd.”

“She was almost eaten by a manticore. What do you think?” Patroclus cut Eri off.

“Hey!”

“Awesome! Did you know manticore tails carry a paralyzing venom? You were lucky it didn’t paralyze you, Eri.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that. I'm glad it didn’t happen.”

“Tadd, will you walk with us to Ilena’s tavern? We need to get Eri out of the city.”

“Sure, no problem. Follow me.”

They started walking, dodging the many stretchers scattered around. They remained silent for a while until Tadd decided to break the silence.

“What kind of trouble are you in, Eri?”

“The high priestess showed up in her hospital room,” Patroclus answered before Erianthe could respond.

“Mmm, I see. So, she revealed your identity, and I imagine she’s proposed you go to the palace to serve the king, right?”

Erianthe was always surprised by Tadd's quick wit. He was incredibly sharp and could connect the dots in no time, making him the best strategist, though he wasn’t the best at dealing with people. Still, he was a brilliant guy who could always be trusted.

“Yes, she suggested it.”

“I imagine you’re going to say no,” Patroclus retorted.

“I can't refuse. If I do, they'll kill my family.”

“You know perfectly well that if you enter the palace as a courtesan, you'll never be able to leave.”

“I know, Pat, but I don’t have another choice. Money is scarce at home, my mother's health is not great, and we need to buy more medicine,” Erianthe said with sadness.

“Then bring her here, and Hippocrates will try to find a permanent cure.”

“No, she doesn’t want to come to Thebes. Not since what happened years ago.”

“But Eri, if you enter… you know about the disappearances, right? We're certain the king is killing all the girls who enter the palace.”

“Did Evan tell you?”

“Yes, you know, he's infiltrated to become part of the royal guard.”

“Although he has inside information, it will be another year or two before he becomes an actual royal guard, so our plan will be delayed even further.” Pointed out Eri. Tadd stopped and looked at her with a serious expression.

“Are you suggesting we move the plan forward? Do you want to be the one to open the palace doors for us?”

“You all know, as well as I do, that it would be the best option. We need to overthrow the king.”

“But Eri, you could put yourself in danger—”

“Actually, Pat, it's our only hope.”

“What? What are you talking about, Tadd? You know they could kill her!”

“I know, but you're well aware that the people in the palace are up to something. Aside from the disappearances, there have been more raids by the guards. Haven't you noticed how packed the hospital is? More than usual. Whatever the palace is plotting, they're accelerating it, especially now that they've sent the high priestess to find a courtesan for the king.”

“Pat, I'll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Yes, but you’re going to have to hide until then. You won’t be able to go to the quarry.”

“I still have to work!”

“Eri, they know who you are! If we hadn’t left the room, the guards would’ve arrested you and thrown you into the dungeons until you turned 16.”

“You’re right about that, Patty”

“Don’t call me Patty, you idiot,” Patroclus snapped, irritated by the nickname his friend used.

“Hahaha, you are easy to provoke, but you are correct. Eri has to hide. They won’t let her escape now that they’ve found her. You did the right thing, but there’ll be more raids to find her.”

Erianthe lowered her head, not wanting them to see her face. It hurt her to think that things would get worse because of her. She had always tried to remain unnoticed so that no one would find out who she was.

Hades watched her. He was pleased with the chaos, despair, and odor of death that filled everything—a putrid, nauseating smell. But he didn’t like that the girl was becoming the key to their supposed plan. He was the only one who should have the power to make her suffer eternally, but he didn’t want her dead yet.

Erianthe stopped. A hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Patroclus' face.

“Don’t worry, Eri. We’ll make it work, I promise,” he said with a gentle smile.

“You convinced me, okay? But I’ll hide on my own. Luckily, I live in the countryside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, besides, how am I supposed to disappear for six months without my mother knowing? Or without giving her money for food or medicine?”

“True. Well, that makes me feel better.”

After making their way past the hospital and seeing people miserable, with amputations, ulcers, etc. They arrived at a network of tunnels, which thankfully Tadd knew by heart as he traveled them every day. He lived underground due to his disability, since if he were caught, they would execute him for not being a useful citizen able to work. When they reached a large door, Tadd pulled three masks from his bag.

“Guys, put on the masks. We need to keep our identities secret,” he whispered. Once he saw everyone had put on their masks, he knocked three times, and a small hatch in the door opened.

“Password.”

The boy on crutches said happily, “Blessed are the tavern owner's breasts.”

The door opened.

“Well, well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the underground tavern of the Children of the Revolution!”

Chapter Text

The tavern was silent. There were a couple of tables where men were playing and gambling, with drachmas, food, and even a chicken. Yes, even a chicken.

Behind the bar, a blonde girl was cleaning some mugs, absorbed in her task, not noticing the arrival of new customers. Feeling watched, she lifted her gaze and saw the trio that had just entered. When she saw them, she smiled, but her face immediately turned into a frown when she noticed Erianthe's condition: blood-stained clothes and a bandage on her head.

Without hesitation, the girl stopped what she was doing and stormed out from behind the bar in fury. To Hades, her expression reminded him of one of the harpies, except for how voluptuous and stunning she was. “Hashi-Baba, she's stunning. That girl could give Aphrodite a run for her money!” Hades thought, now understanding the tavern's password.

The most curious thing was that, despite the girl's fiery gaze and exuberant appearance, she wore a black eye patch covering her left eye.

“You're an idiot,” she said as she got closer and closer.

The three guys looked at her nervously because they knew she was mad—really mad. And bam! The girl punched Patroclus, knocking him to the ground in one swift blow. “What the hell happened to Eri? You were supposed to take care of her at that damn quarry!”

“Whoa, Ilena, you should try not to draw attention, or you'll spark the curiosity of the people here, or worse, you'll expose us.”

“Seriously? You just called me by my name.” Ilena shot Tadd a death glare.

“Oops, sorry, should I call you Miss Boo— ?”

“Finish that sentence, and you'll end up like Pat.”

“Yes, ma'am. At your service!”

The girl turned to look at Eri, who was stunned and worried about whether Patroclus was still breathing.

“Eri! What happened to you?” The blonde threw herself at her, wrapping her in an overly enthusiastic hug that nearly suffocated her. “They're nuts,” Hades thought as he watched the scene, already convinced that Hercules' daughter's friends were a bit insane.

“Mhm! Mhm!.”

“Huh?”

At that moment, Patroclus got up:

“You're such a brute. Let her go, or you'll end up suffocating her!”

“Sorry, Eri, I didn't realize! Sometimes, I get too enthusiastic.”

“It's okay, no problem. But don't worry, I'm fine.”

“A manticore tried to eat her.”

“WHAT?”

“But at last, it didn’t eat me. I’m fine, and I’m standing here in front of all of you. So, let’s drop the topic,” Erianthe said, clearly annoyed. Yes, a manticore had attacked her, but luckily, she survived—though it was thanks to her personal stalker who had saved her.

“Alright, alright. So, what brings you here? Are you here for a drink? You know, I managed to get some Herculade,” said Ilena, knowing how much they loved the drink, especially the guy with the crutches.

“Herculade? Pour me one. It’s been a whi-”

“Guys!” Patroclus interrupted. “We need to focus. The High Priestess showed up at the hospital.”

At that statement, Ilena was taken aback. She knew that the presence of the palace’s High Priestess was never a good sign, especially when everyone knew she was an excellent oracle. The blonde turned to look at Erianthe, who had lowered her head, not wanting anyone to see her face—a mix of sadness and anger.

Even though she tried to hide it, her expression didn’t go unnoticed by those present, especially Ilena and Hades. The latter remembered how sad the kid had been when she thought about her foolish father. He even noticed how the lively sparkle in her blue eyes had faded. The High Priestess had struck a nerve, hitting her where it hurt the most.

“What did that witch do?” Ilena broke the silence that had formed.

“She said she’d make a good courtesan for the king, but the worst part is that she knew who she was—she knew she’s the daughter of…”

“Shhh, Pat, you need to be more careful. Let’s go behind the bar and talk about it there, so no one overhears us,” the barmaid suggested.

The tavern was large, with a decent distance between the bar and where the customers were sitting. The customers who came to the tavern were people seeking refuge, cheaper—or even free—food, and an escape from what was happening on the surface. Many also came looking for a certain group of people.

The mixed group was opposed to the tyranny of King Licario, the current ruler. Licario was not the legitimate heir to the throne, but the brother of the previous king who had left to fight in the war along with the men recruited from across the region.

The former king, King Leandro, believed his brother would serve well in his place, as the throne had to remain in the hands of men and his sons were still too young and inexperienced to take the throne. So, he left his brother Licario in charge of the throne and entrusted him with the supervision and education of his two sons. But it was a terrible mistake.

Licario quickly disposed of his obstacles, starting with the queen, Dione, who suddenly became very ill and died as a result of her illness. The princes were devastated by this. They accused their uncle of poisoning the queen, but he simply condemned them as traitors. In response to their accusations, the two princes disappeared, though rumors say they escaped from their uncle, as he intended to kill them.

And so, the current king had free rein to do as he pleased. Naturally, there were people who opposed him—most ended up dead or imprisoned—but there was one group that always remained in the shadows, making life extremely difficult for the king. This group was known as the Children of the Revolution, the sons, and daughters of those seeking revenge for the hell the ambitious king had made them live through.

Their headquarters and main base of operations was the tavern, where they gathered to discuss how to sabotage the king. But the main topic of conversation was always the plan to overthrow the king, and, in fact, part of the group was about to meet behind the bar to discuss this very plan.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” said the blonde. “That bitch went to the hospital, saw you, and told you, you'd make a good courtesan, and moreover, she knows who you are.” Erianthe nodded, and Ilena continued, “Well, holy crap. We’re screwed!”

“Watch your language, Ilena.”

“Oh, come on, Pat, I’m old enough to swear,” and she was right—she was the oldest of the group. “It’s not like we’re in a children’s play… puny.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Enough!” Eri shouted. “Stop arguing. Ilena, the truth is, this could be a good opportunity to get into the palace. In six months, we could end all of this. I just need to become his courtesan, and then, and then…”

“No, Eri! No! He could kill you.”

“We’d take the palace before that happens. I know how to defend myself. I…”

“The first thing the king does is violate his courtesans! Is that what you want? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“Better to sacrifice one person than to continue to live as if we were in Tartarus.” SMACK! The sound of Ilena’s slap echoed through the entire tavern. Silence fell. The customers stopped their games and stared at the bar, while the guys looked at both girls—Eri, on the verge of tears, and Ilena, fuming again.

Erianthe reacted and stormed out from behind the bar toward a door nearby. Ilena followed her, feeling guilty for reacting that way, but she needed to make her realize how risky this was, not just for the plan but because she couldn’t let Eri sacrifice herself—she just couldn’t.

She found her sitting in a corner. Her hair covered her face, but Ilena knew perfectly well that she was crying. She approached her until Eri lifted her head and looked at her. Her gaze stopped Ilena in her tracks—it was a look full of pain, frustration, and… fear? Yes, fear.

“Eri, I…”

“No, Ilena! Listen to me. You know as well as I do that the situation in Thebes is about to explode. People are dying, everything we’ve known, everything our parents built, is going to vanish. I’m not going to—no, we’re not going to let Thebes fall.”

Ilena stared at her. When had Eri matured so much? Well, to be fair, she had always been quite mature, but here she was, determined to overthrow the king, no matter the cost. She had to admit it—it was their last option.

“You're right.”

“What?”

“I said you're right. We’ll start planning around your entrance into the palace.”

“Really? I thought that slap and your speech back there. I thought you were going to oppose me more, honestly. Maybe even beat me up to change my mind.”

“Oh, kiddo. I can be rough and foul-mouthed, but above all, I’m your friend, and I love you, Eri. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t doubt it. Come on, get up. Let’s train a bit; you look like you need to hit someone. Plus, you’ll need to defend yourself when you’re in the palace. But I’m only going to ask you this once: Are you sure about all of this? About having to sleep with the king?”

“Yes, if that’s what it takes.”

“It’s not going to be pleasant, Eri; believe me, I know. Remember, I was in your position once. Back then, we thought it was best for my brother Egan to be the palace liaison. But when I got into the palace, instead of the king taking me, it was a guard. He caught me by surprise, and because of that, I was nearly executed for being impure. Luckily, I managed to escape, though I lost an eye in the process. So, let's train, in case you need to break someone’s face.”

“Hahaha, you're right. Let’s train.”

Hades watched them as they trained. What was happening with these mortals? He was astonished. The gods of Olympus were ignoring this precarious situation, which was so convenient for him—except for the fact that the daughter of Jerkules was about to sacrifice herself to save the people of the city. How heroic of her, but it disgusted him. Mortals killing each other benefited his business, but the girl. He was about to ruin the plan. Erianthe wouldn’t be able to get into the palace, and instead…

“Girls!” Patroclus burst into the room. “Stop what you're doing. Eri has to leave the city immediately. They're conducting raids in the eastern district.”

At that remark, the girls stopped, and Ilena rushed out of the room. Eri could hear her giving instructions to the men who had been playing cards while Tadd entered the room.

“Eri, come with me. I'll take you through a safer passage.” They quickly set off, but not before she glanced back to see Patroclus standing at the door, looking at her with sadness. He nodded and then disappeared behind the tavern door.

Tadd led her down a hallway to a trapdoor. Eri didn’t recognize the place, but she wasn’t going to argue—he knew the underworld like the back of his hand. The boy turned, looked at Eri, and pulled a scroll from his tunic.

“Take this. When you can, read it. It’s the plan. Memorize it, and then burn the scroll. Make sure you memorize everything.”

“Alright, Tadd. I’ll do it. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Eri.” And with that, the boy on crutches hugged her. “You’re our only hope, our only light. Now, hold your nose, or water will get in.”

“What? Wait, Tadd, don’t tell me you—”

She didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Tadd opened the trapdoor right beneath Eri’s feet, and before you could say “muse,” she fell into the void. A scream echoed through the hallway.

“See you in six months, Captain and Founder of the Children of the Revolution!”

Chapter Text

Today was not her day. It was clear—first the manticore incident, then the hospital, and now the raid. And, of course, there was no better way to escape and go unnoticed than through one of Thebes' wells. “How stupid,” thought the daughter of Hercules. She should have realized that the trapdoor was connected to one of the underground rivers flowing beneath the city.

After what felt like an eternity of falling, she splashed into the water. Luckily, the current wasn’t too strong, and she could swim against it without much difficulty. The problem was that the water was freezing cold—the chill slowly numbed her limbs, and her breathing became more and more labored. She had to hurry and reach the secret exit in the west, in the opposite direction of where the raids were taking place.

She couldn't see anything. It was pitch dark, almost as if she were swimming through the River Styx, descending into the underworld—or so Eri imagined. Further ahead, she started to see a faint light, nearing a patch of land. Upon reaching it, she climbed some rocks and rested for a few minutes to catch her breath. She was exhausted—not just from swimming against the current, but from everything that had happened. She wanted to lie down, sleep, and wake up to find that today had been nothing but a nightmare.

“Come on, Eri, just a little more. You're almost home,” she told herself. With the strength she had left, she stood up and looked around. The light illuminated a staircase leading to the surface, so without wasting any more time, she began climbing. The stairs seemed endless, but eventually, she came face-to-face with a stone slab.

She tried to move it but didn’t have enough strength. Hades watched her from behind. He couldn’t deny the kid had a great figure for her age—not as voluptuous as her blonde friend, but she definitely had a nice rear. “Damn it, now I’m a pervert, like that chubby little man from the quarry,” he thought. The girl was persistent and tough, but luckily, she hadn’t inherited her father’s strength. After all, she was just a mere mortal.

At that moment, the Lord of the Underworld debated whether to help her move the slab. It amused him to see how stubbornly she tried to shift it without moving it an inch—something that would be effortless for him. Just as he was about to step forward and give her a hand, the slab began to budge slightly.

Seizing the opportunity, Eri put all her strength into moving the slab, and bam! The slab was off. Now, the million-drachma question: who had moved the slab from the outside? Eri had to be careful. She finished climbing the remaining steps cautiously and stepped out, but not before grabbing a stone from the ground—just in case.

She heard a noise behind her and spun around quickly, ready to smash the stone against the mysterious person’s head—until she immediately recognized Patroclus.
“Patroclus! You scare me! But what are you doing here? I thought you stayed in the city.” Eri almost had a heart attack. It was already dusk. She had just emerged from one of the secret exits, which, of all places, led to the cemetery. Yes, she had just crawled out of a tomb.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone until I saw you safely back home. Come on, let's head to the crossroads between Thebes and the road to Athens. There, you can catch Acrisius' cart and head back.”

“I don't understand why I had to take the hard way. Damn Tadd!”

“Actually, it's for the best. Things in Thebes are awful. It would’ve been too risky to take the usual path. By the way, this is from Ilena—put it on. You won’t need those clothes anymore. They’re dirty, torn, and soaked. Honestly, Eri, they’re in their last days.”

“But…”

“I know it’s the uniform from your father’s quarry, but you can keep everything else. You know what? I’ll take it to Ilena and see if she can fix it, okay?”

“Thanks, Pat.”

“No problem, but hurry. The raid is spreading west, and the king has sent two of his personal guards.”

“What? Licario’s personal assassins? They haven’t left the palace in years—this is unfortunate,” Eri replied, hiding behind a gravestone to change while the dark-haired boy turned his back.

“Exactly, so we need to hurry. I don’t think they’ll leave Thebes, but it’s better not to push our luck.”

“You’re right,” Erianthe said, now dressed in a simple blue tunic that reached just below her knees and a travel cloak. She still kept her helmet and work boots, though.

“Much better, now you don’t look like a wet cat,” her friend teased.

“Hey! Who are you calling a wet cat? You little—” Eri stopped suddenly. She smelled something burning, and it wasn’t the sulfur that had been following her all day. It was the strong scent of burning wood and even flesh. “Wait, what’s that smell?”

“No, Eri, don’t turn around. It’s better if you don’t,” Patroclus warned, but the orange-haired girl turned anyway, and what she saw left her frozen in place: the city of Thebes was burning from the east to the west.

Hades turned as well, surprised by the chaos and destruction unfolding before him. He could feel the aura of death in the city, his godly ears picking up the screams and cries of mortals—not like those in the underworld, but far more chilling, filled with the unmistakable fear of death.

He glanced at Erianthe, who was staring in utter horror at the scene.

“Eri, let’s go,” Patroclus said, his voice barely a whisper. Unable to bring himself to look at the burning city, his head hung low.

“No, no, no, no…” was all Eri could say, repeating it over and over. “Damn Licario…” She got up and started marching toward the city, but Patroclus grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back. The two began to struggle.

“Let go of me! Let me go! I’ll kill him! I’m going to kill that lunatic, Patroclus; let me go!”

“NO! We’re leaving! This isn’t the time. Calm down. You’ll get your revenge—remember, the goal is to overthrow that bastard.” The hatred in his eyes was clear—hatred for King Licario and all his henchmen.

“I know. He’ll get what he deserves, but I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to kill him, for everything he’s done and for what he’s done to us.”
“Come on, Eri, let’s go. We need to retreat today. We’ll have our time to fight.”

“Fine, Pat…” Both of them, heads down, made their way into the forest, following a path that would lead them to Acrisius' cart station. They walked hand in hand in silence. Hades followed at a safe distance, feeling uncomfortable with the situation and observing how that simple gesture between them offered comfort and reassurance. “This kid is really starting to get on my nerves,” the god thought, irritated. Part of him wanted to speak to the girl again, and if he were honest, he was a little envious that they were holding hands.

He remembered the look of hatred in Eri's eyes. He recognized that feeling because it was the same one he had felt when they defeated the Titans and Zeus, his brother. But what does it matter now? It had been so long, yet the pain lingered, remembering how Zeus had deceived him into taking a job and sending him into a dark and lifeless realm. So deep in thought, he hadn't realized they had already reached the meeting point.

“We part ways here, Eri. Take this,” he handed the girl a dagger, “so you can defend yourself. And take this too—it’s not much, but it’ll help you for a while.” It was a small pouch with a few coins.

“Pat, thank you.”

“No need. Take care…”

“You too. I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too. See you in six months.” He gave his best friend a tight hug. It was going to be the longest they had been apart since they met—or at least since he could remember being with her. It saddened him because she had always been his biggest support in everything they did.

At that moment, the cart arrived.

“Good afternoon, Eri! Time to head back?”

“Yeah, Acrisius, it’s time. I can't wait to get home. It's been a long day.” Just like in the morning, the girl made her way to the back of the cart, sat down, and pulled up the hood of her cloak. She felt someone else sitting beside her, her “mysterious stalker.” She turned and saw Patroclus leaning against a tree as more people started to board. Five minutes later, the cart set off, and Eri waved goodbye to her friend, who returned the gesture.

On the way there, the cart traveled in silence until she overheard one man speaking to another:

“Did you hear what they’re saying in the city?”

“Yeah, crazy stuff. They're looking for Hercules' daughter. I thought she died five years ago when they burned the whole village with her family inside.” Hades noticed how the girl tensed up and clenched her fists. “So that's why they don't live in luxury,” he thought.

“Yeah, but what difference does it make if she’s alive or dead? She’s no hero like her father. It might’ve been better if she had died in the fire.”

“Exactly. Without powers, she’s useless.”

Upon hearing that, a tear slid down Eri’s cheek. The frustration of not being able to do anything, of being just a mere mortal who couldn't change anything, who was useless… She still had one stop before reaching home, but she asked Acrisius to stop the cart. She wanted to walk the rest of the way.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I need to stretch my legs.”

“Alright, young lady, take care!”

“Goodbye, take care.” She watched the cart disappear down the road. Erianthe stood still for a moment, sighed, and looked up at the sky. The first stars were beginning to appear, and she recalled something her father had once told her:

You know, Eri, when I was a boy, I was a nobody. No one cared about me beyond my parents. I was a misfit, an outcast. I was good for nothing. But one day, I found my destiny.

Remembering those words, the girl smiled and started walking toward home. Alongside the road stood a temple, or what was left of it. People were going in and out, searching for answers from the gods to their misery and hunger. With a touch of melancholy, she began to hum a soft melody.

I don't know if you can hear me,
I don't know if you're still there.
It's been a long time since I lost
all hope.

Gods of Olympus,
I beg you, please.
Guide me to find my destiny,
help me fight it.

My prayer is humble,
I just want to see the world,
filled with light and dreams,
once again.

A world
where people could live without fear,
and smile once more.

Please, to all the Gods.
Help us live again.

Hades stood watching the girl. She was begging them, yet none of the gods up there bothered to listen—only he did. It was clear he wasn’t about to help with that sappy prayer—having the world upside down was a luxury for him and for his business. But in a way, he had enjoyed listening to her; her voice was sweet and melancholic. “When she’s my slave, I’ll ask her to sing to me every day,” he thought.

Without realizing it, they had reached the same intersection as that morning. Eri stopped and turned around:
“Please stop following me, I think I’ve entertained you enough to keep you from getting bored for a while,” Eri said to the air, towards the direction where the sulfur smell was coming from.

“Why? Do you really want me to leave? I’ve kept you company all day,” the lord of the dead replied, irritated. Leave? Now that things are getting interesting?

“Yes, I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what your intentions are, but since this morning, bad things have been happening to me. I’m truly grateful that you saved my life, but that’s enough. Please, I just want to be alone.”

“You just prayed to the gods for help. Don’t you want it?” Hades decided to play along and see if she would take the bait.

“Of course I do, but not from you. Are you? Are you a god?” Eri asked incredulously. Could the person following her really be a god?

“If you want, I’ll prove it.” The Lord of the Underworld was about to remove his helmet and reveal himself when suddenly, something began rustling in the bushes. Eri pulled out her dagger, and Hades froze, ready to defend the girl. But the one who emerged was none other than Erianthe’s younger brother.

“Zenos! You scare me. I almost threw the dagger at you! What are you doing here?”

“ERI! IT'S MOM! SHE FAINTED AND SHE'S NOT MOVING! I THINK SHE'S SICK!”

Chapter Text

Both Eri and Hades were frozen in place by Zenos' revelation. “Meg sick? Could she be the first to end up in the underworld?” thought the god of the dead, a malicious grin spreading across his face.

Eri, on the other hand, was in shock. Her mother had fallen ill again. A few years ago, her mother collapsed in the fields. For several days, she had a dangerously high fever. Eri had to take her place, working while Zenos cared for her. But she didn’t get better. It was a miracle that she recovered because, for a moment, Eri thought her mother was going to die.

She knew her mother overworked herself and stopped eating, so her children could have food. That’s why Eri decided to work at the quarry to earn more money, so her mother wouldn’t have to worry. But now, why? Why had she fallen ill again? She was eating normally and working fewer hours.

“Eri!” Shouted Zenos. Eri snapped out of it and looked at her brother. He was crying, his eyes reflecting the fear and panic that consumed him at that moment. He was desperate, and for a second, it was like looking in a mirror of herself years ago. She had reacted the same way. Without thinking twice, she grabbed her brother by the wrist, and they ran toward their home.

They were running as fast as they could, but Eri noticed that she had to pull harder on her brother with every step. She stopped and said:
“Hop on, I’ll carry you.”

Her brother didn’t protest. He climbed on her back, and Eri resumed her sprint home as fast as she could. Her body felt heavy; she had to consider the injuries she had suffered today—the one on her head from the manticore and the whip wound on her thigh. The latter was burning intensely. The pain was growing, but she had to endure it. Their mother needed them.

She could already see their house. They were almost there. Then, Eri came to a sudden halt. There, on the ground in front of the house, lay their mother. Hades also arrived with Pain and Panic after sending the two to investigate what was happening in Thebes, while he had been following the brat like a shadow. When the god of the dead saw Meg lying on the ground, he had a déjà vu from 17 years ago, when she had died and her soul entered the Underworld.

“Mom!” The siblings yelled. They crouched down to check on their mother. Zenos couldn’t stop crying, while Eri was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Sis! What do we do? Will she be okay?” Zenos was frantically pacing around. His nervousness was infectious. Eri began examining their mother: she was breathing. She had a pulse; there didn’t seem to be any injuries, but she had a slight fever. They needed a remedy.

“Eri!”

“Zenos! Stop! Mom is exhausted. She requires medicinal herbs.”

“We don’t have any left.”

“I know. Here,” she fished through her tunic and pulled out the small pouch of coins Patroclus had given her. “Go to the village. Ask the herbalist what herbs are needed for fever and exhaustion.”

“But, Eri, let me help you”

“Zenos! Go buy them! I’ll get mom inside on my own.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon!” He dashed toward the village.

Eri was left alone with her mother. Meg grasped her hand and squeezed it.

“Mom, why did you do this? Don’t leave us alone.” Hades observed the scene. He felt pity for the brat. She was having a terrible day. Though he wanted them to suffer, he thought that this girl had been through enough for one day. He watched as Eri began trying to lift her mother. Could she do it? Eri was small and slender. Could she bear her mother’s weight?

The girl stood up, struggling to carry her mother. A faint groan escaped Erianthe's lips as pain reflected on her face. Hades noticed her legs trembling, as if they couldn’t support the weight. But then he spotted something more alarming: the brat was bleeding from her thigh.

“Hey, are you sure you can do this? You’re bleeding,” said the Lord of the Dead without thinking. “What the hell am I saying?”

“I can do it,” though she knew she couldn’t. But she was stubborn—more stubborn than a mule—and Hades watched her manage to get her mother inside.

The bedrooms were upstairs, along with the other rooms. The house was small and simple, but over the years, they fixed it up, so everyone had their own space. They had built everything from scratch with wood from the forest and straw. Eri looked at the stairs, which were irregular, and at that moment, she cursed the unevenness of each step. She let out a sigh and began to climb.

The wound on her thigh was definitely burning. She could feel the blood trickling down her leg, but even so, she managed to make it to the top, slowly but surely. She reached her mother’s room and laid her down on the bed. The room was quite dark, so she lit the oil lamp on the bedside table. Relieved, she sat down on the floor beside her mother’s bed. Now that she looked closely, her mother was quite pale. How had she not noticed earlier?

“Eri, honey, is that you?”

Meg opened her eyes slightly and saw she was in her room. Everything felt heavy, but the worst part was her head; it was as if she couldn’t think clearly. She also felt unbearably hot and had a dry throat.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” Meg said in a faint voice.

“Mom, don’t say that, but please don’t push yourself to the limit. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She realized her mother was exhausted, and her voice was hoarse.

“Do you want me to bring you some water?”

“Honey, don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble, Mom. I’ll be right back.” Eri left the room. In the hallway, Hades had to almost step into Zenos room to let her pass, as she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where they kept the water. It was a struggle for her to descend the stairs, and every so often, a quiet groan escaped her lips from the pain.

She realized too late that she was leaving drops of blood all over the floor. “By Hera, what a mess,” she thought. She reached the kitchen, opened a jug, and filled a bowl with water. When she returned, her mother was half-reclined and looked at her with a smile.

“Honey, you didn't need to worry.”

“You’re thirsty, so drink.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“In the village, buying herbs.”

“But, Eri, we don’t have any money.” Meg looked at her, worried.

“Don’t worry, I had some saved up.”

Meg drank all the water in the bowl. Hades stood leaning against the door frame, watching them. It seemed his despised nephew’s family was already suffering: his former slave and her daughter were living in a shabby cabin in the middle of the woods, working long hours just to survive and have enough to eat. They were on the brink of misery, and that satisfied him. But it wasn’t enough; no, they would suffer more. Yet, a part of him again felt sympathy for Eri, seeing her look so fragile, but still strong as she tried to take control of the situation.

“Forgive me, Eri, for letting it get this bad. The taxes on the fields went up, and food is so expensive. I didn’t want to contribute less. How could I, as a mother, let you take on more burdens?”

“But, Mom, you should have said something! Couldn’t you haggle over the price? Please don’t do this anymore. You could die like this. You’d leave us alone.”

Meg lowered her head. Her daughter was right. Her body couldn’t take it anymore; she was growing weaker and more fragile with each passing day. She looked up and saw the concern on her daughter’s face, then noticed the bandage on her head.

“Eri! What happened to you? What’s with that bandage?” Meg was suddenly startled, wanting to get out of bed.

“Mom, I’m fine. Don’t get up. I had an accident at the quarry. I didn’t put the harness on correctly, and I fell. That’s all.” Eri lied. She wasn’t about to tell her mother that a manticore had nearly eaten her.

“Are you sure that’s all? Nothing else happened to you.”

“No, Mom. Well, I got fired.” Erianthe couldn’t tell her about the high priestess. She looked at her mother and said, “Maybe I could work in the fields with you, or maybe there’s another job in the village. I’m sorry, Mom.”

The money from the quarry had been good for them, and now she would have to start from scratch until she could get into the palace. “It’s only six months,” she thought.

“Honey, don’t worry.  We’ll manage. You’ll see.” Meg gently placed her hand on Eri’s head and stroked it softly. “My girl, when did you grow up so much? It feels like just a moment ago, I was holding you in my arms.” She hugged her daughter as tightly as her body allowed.
“Mom! Lie down; you need to rest.” Eri said, returning the embrace.

They stayed like that for a while, hugging, until Eri’s gaze landed on a partially burned tapestry near the door. It was a tapestry of their family: her parents, her brother, and herself, just before the war broke out. “What a long time,” she thought with fond memories. It was one of the best days of her life. She let go of her mother, who looked exhausted, as if she might fall asleep at any moment.

So Eri stood up and said, “I’m going to make dinner and clean up the floor.”

Luckily, the wound had stopped bleeding, but it still hurt. Her mother looked at the bloodstained floor and raised an eyebrow.
“Mom, don’t look at me like that. I’ll leave the floors so clean you could eat off them.” Her mother smiled at that.

“I trust you. Let's see what you make for dinner, although I think you can only make porridge! And there are olives and some fruit.”

Meg saw how Eri was leaving, but first she told her, “I'm surprised that the only thing left from our old house was that tapestry. I love that tapestry.”

Meg slowly lay back down to sleep, while Eri stood in front of the tapestry. She loved it too, as it was one of the very few things left from her father and them as a family. In their old home, they had so many memories and lost everything but the tapestry. She missed her old house so much, and she could no longer go back. It no longer existed.

In the tapestry, her father wore a hero's armor, while the others wore formal robes: her mother wore a purple one, Zenos a white one, and she was a yellow one.
“Did you not want to wear that tunic, remember?”

“Yes, I hated that tunic with all my soul. I was complaining all the time that I wanted my blue tunic, my favorite. Dad scolded me, and so did you. But I remember what I liked most about that day was that it started to rain, and then the four of us were playing in the garden. My tunic ended up brown.”

“I think everyone's ended up the same way. How handsome your father looked in that armor! I miss him so much.” Eri looked at her mother; she was already lying down, but she noticed that thinking about her father made her sad.

“He will come back, Mom. He always keeps his promises.” Meg smiled again and closed her eyes. Eri was about to leave the room when her mother said:

“You know, the strangest thing? I've been smelling sulfur for a while now. It's quite ironic, but this smell reminds me of Hades. He always had this smell when he appeared. Do you smell it?”

When his mother said that, she stopped in her tracks. She had smelled that scent all day and knew that this “person” was still there, right in front of her. She was shocked. What her mother was saying made sense: that she couldn't see him, the smell, the fire…

Hades was petrified. “Shit, Meg had discovered him, because of the smell.” He had to change his essence. The lord of the dead looked at the girl, who was looking ahead with a surprised face. What was she going to do?

“No, Mom. I don't smell anything. It must be your imagination.” She turned around, and her mother was already asleep. So she left the room. Hades turned away, but not before listening:

“We need to talk.” She went down the stairs and out of the house. Once outside, even though Eri could not see Hades, she motioned for him to follow her, and they went into the woods to the stream this morning. Once there, it was Eri who broke the silence between the two.

“What do you want from me, Lord of the Dead?” The girl didn't beat around the bush and fixed her gaze on where the smell she had been smelling all day was coming from. Hades no longer had to hide anymore. “Clever girl,” he thought, and finally, he took off his helmet.

Erianthe was the first time she saw him, but after all the stories and descriptions her mother had told her during all these years, he was just as she imagined him. What she did not expect was that he was such an imposing figure, besides how intimidating he was. When she saw him, she knew that her intuition had been right—“that someone” was going to bring her problems.

“Well, I can finally take off my helmet, and you know, best of all, I don't have to introduce myself. The truth is, Erianthe, I've been watching you all day. I wanted to know how my ex-subaltern and my nephew were doing. And bam! One is at war and the other is sick, and what should I say about you? You are full of problems, my dear.”

“Yes, so what? I'll solve my problems. Or was it you? Everything that happened today, was it you?” These accusations made Hades laugh, but he was partly annoyed that the brat was blaming him for her misfortunes.

“Me? Are you kidding me? Everything that has happened to you is part of your destiny. If you want to blame someone, blame the Fates. They are the ones who weave the tapestry of destiny.” He looked at the girl. She was waiting for him to say what he wanted.

“I will only tell you one thing. Your mother is weak, and do you think you will be able to find another job so fast? You are in serious trouble, but you know the best thing of all? I am going to help you. I will offer you a solution to the prayer before.”

Prayer. “Crap,” Eri thought. She was openly asking the gods for help, and just now she had one in front of her, even if it wasn't the one she was expecting. Hades saw how the girl had become irritated at the last thing he had said to her. So, he took the opportunity to throw another blow at her.

“I propose to you something. I will cure your mother, and you will have the necessary resources, especially food, to survive until your father returns. What do you say?” Eri looked at him, surprised. A deal, he was suggesting a deal?

“In exchange for what?”

“Hm! Nothing essential, only your soul. I only ask that you give me your soul for all eternity.” At that, the king of the underworld smiled; he almost had it.

“Wait. If I give you my soul, I want to add something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apart from curing my mother and giving her and my brother resources until my father comes, I want that nothing happens to them, that they are protected and that they don't get sick.”

“Well, you're asking, but I can give you that. Anything else? Ah! I haven't told you, but you're coming with me to the underworld.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, baby, it's better to have you downstairs. There, you will work for me. You will do EVERYTHING I ask of you.”

At that moment, Eri realized that she had a mission in six months, so she had to ask for something else. Otherwise, they were lost. “Let's see if it works,” she thought.

“Okay, but then, I want one day off a week.”

“One day off a week? Not a chance.”

“Every two weeks?”

“NO!” The god was losing his temper.

“A month? Since I give you my soul for all eternity and I have to live in the underworld, let me, even if it's one day off a month.”

He thought about it seriously, and he didn't know why, but he felt sorry for the brat after what he had seen today.

“Fine. One day, a month, and no more. Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.”

At that moment, the lord of the dead and the daughter of Hercules shook hands, closing the deal, not knowing that this moment would bind them together for all eternity.

Chapter Text

It's a strange feeling when you sell your soul. Really, nothing changes. You don't notice anything unusual, but you feel like you belong to the god in front of you. We were still shaking hands. His gaze was one of satisfaction, as was his smile. I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid—I was terrified—because now my life belonged to Hades.

The moment Hades shook the girl's hand, he felt it. The deal had been sealed, and just as he expected—he had felt it many times before when making deals with mortals—he sensed power. He felt power over her soul, and though her soul was still in her body, he was now its rightful owner. Hades smiled with satisfaction. “I've done it,” the god of the dead thought. He had managed to get the daughter of his nemesis to hand over her soul.

Now he could make her suffer as he pleased. Having her in the Underworld would be an advantage, and moreover, Meg and her son would suffer from not having the girl close every day. He knew they would miss her, and he relished the thought. For a time, things would be this way—he'd keep the brat with him and figure out how to torment Meg even more. She was the one he most wanted to take revenge on because it was her fault that his nephew had regained his powers and defeated him.

They let go of each other's hands, and suddenly, Erianthe felt dizzy. Was it because of the deal? Possibly, but her wounds were taking their toll. Aside from the wound on her thigh, which had reopened earlier, her head was starting to hurt. The effect of Hippocrates' remedy must have worn off. Hades noticed and grabbed the girl's arm, stopping her from collapsing to the ground. He knew mortals often felt weak after making a pact, but not to this extent, until he realized the extent of her injuries.

“You're a mess,” he said, looking at her up and down. Then, with his other hand, he touched the girl's head. Instantly, Eri felt better, though the pain in her leg remained.

“Thank you. Why are you doing this?” she asked, not understanding why he was healing her.

“You’re no use to me, injured. You’re my subordinate now, so I have to take care of things like this,” Hades said casually, downplaying the matter as he placed his hand on the girl's thigh.

Eri flinched when she felt Hades' hand on her leg. The wound stung, but suddenly, she felt a deep warmth in her leg, and the pain began to disappear. It was a very pleasant feeling. The god’s hand was enormous, covering her entire thigh, and thinking about that made Erianthe feel embarrassed, especially because of how close he was. The closeness didn’t escape the notice of the King of the Underworld, either.

It wasn’t the first time he had been this close to her; earlier, he had crouched down to check on her after defeating the manticore. He’d had a better look at her features then—a blend of Meg and Wonderboy, though neither of them had freckles like she did, scattered across her upturned nose and a few on her cheeks. Full lips… What he hadn’t expected was how good she smelled—a sweet, floral scent with a hint of citrus—the very same scent reaching him now.

“Once again, I’m distracted. This girl is dangerous,” thought the god as he finished healing her. He noticed her cheeks were flushed—had he applied too much heat? Shaking the thought of his head, he looked into her eyes. She was afraid, and it was understandable. She had just sold her soul and was about to spend the rest of her life in the underworld. At that moment, Hades, Lord of the Dead, felt a pang of sympathy.

He had planned to take the girl with him right then, but he remembered the conversation he’d had earlier in her mother’s room. “Why not let her spend the night with her family? That way, she'll trust me more. Yeah, it’s not because I’m softening because of that look. No, definitely not.”

“All done! You're healed, now you'll feel better.”

“Well, are we leaving now?” Eri asked with a hint of sadness.

“Who said we're leaving now?”

“But I just… we just made a deal.”

“Oh yes, yes, darling, I remember. But don't you have dinner to make?”

That question caught Erianthe off guard, as she hadn't expected, that turn of events.

“So?”

“So, Eri—can I call you Eri?—tonight, make dinner, take care of your brother and your mother, and tomorrow morning, I'll come to pick you up. Prepare whatever you want to take with you. But I must tell you, don't say anything about this to your mother, okay? Capiche?”

“Alright, thank you, sir.”

“Hades.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Hades.”

“Alright, si—um, Hades!”

They both fell silent. It felt strangely difficult for Hades to part ways with the mortal girl. He had been by her side all day, and for some strange reason, he didn't want to say goodbye just yet. As for Erianthe, the god confused her. She had just sold him her soul in a very cruel bargain, yet here he was, letting her say goodbye to her family. Was that kindness? Could the Lord of the Dead have a good side? She didn’t know what to think.

“ERI!” The trance between them was broken by the arrival of the youngest member of the family.

“Zenos… I have to go. I'll be back here first thing tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” said the Lord of the Dead, somewhat irritated. Why was there always some kid interrupting them? Hades watched as the girl started looking around the ground for something. “What on earth is she doing?” he thought, until he saw her crouch down to pick some flowers.

“They'll serve as my excuse,” she said with a smile. The King of the Underworld was puzzled.

The girl walked toward the house and out of the trees.

“Zenos! Do you have mom's remedy?”

“Eri! What were you doing in the woods?”

“Picking flowers. You know how much mom loves them, so I thought we could bring her a bunch when we bring her dinner.”

“Ah! So, that’s it. The girl’s clever,” Hades thought, watching the scene unfold from a safe distance, so her brother wouldn’t see him.

“Great idea! And yes, I’ve got everything. Mrs. Dorothea, the shopkeeper, gave me some herbs for mom to take as tea. She also gave me some fruit and fish, saying a good meal is the best medicine for recovery.”

“Wow, really? How kind of her! We’ll have to thank her. Hmm, maybe we should bake her something as a thank-you.”

“She also asked, and I quote, ‘How’s your sister? Thinking of finding a husband? Remember, my grandson is single and quite the catch.’ She was truly interested in when you plan to get married.” Eri’s eyes widened, and Hades watched her reaction.

“WHAT?” Eri sighed. Sure, in a few years a girl her age should be thinking about marriage… but there was no way she was marrying the shopkeeper’s grandson! “What did you tell her?”

“I said, for now, you have no plans to marry because you're married to your work.”

“Hahaha, good answer, little brother. I see, I’ve taught you well.” Hades felt… relieved? He shook off the annoying thought and kept watching the pair.

“And anyway, for that, he’d have to take you on a date: a trip to the theater, a candlelit dinner.  Oh, and what about dancing? You love to dance, and you’re a great dancer.”

“Where do you get these ideas?”

“From mom. She said it’s important to court someone before marriage, and dates are key.”

“Mom… Well, my little Casanova, let’s head inside—it’s getting late, and we need to make dinner.”

“True, I’m starving. But have you noticed? The stars are clear tonight.”

Erianthe looked up. Her brother was right. The starry sky was beautiful, a blanket of shining points that left you mesmerized. She had already seen them begin to emerge when she climbed off the cart earlier, but now the sky was full of them.

“You know something? Dad loved to sit on the porch at night and look at the stars. You were too little to remember, but we used to sit outside and tell stories about them.”
“Maybe we could bring that tradition back, don’t you think?”
“Great idea. Look at those stars over there; see that one shaped like a cart? That’s the Big Dipper*. They say Callisto, a beautiful woman, was seduced by a god, as you might think. What’s the problem with that? Well, she had sworn to remain chaste and belonged to the goddess Artemis’s retinue. So when they found out she was pregnant, Artemis, in her anger, turned her into a bear.”

“Wow, poor Callisto.”

“Yes, but one of the gods took pity on her and turned her into a constellation, granting her immortality and saving her son.”

“Eri, do you think Dad is looking at the same stars as we are?”

“I’m sure he is. I’ve always believed that looking at the stars brings us closer to our loved ones who are far away. I close my eyes and imagine that Dad, Phil, and Pegasus are somewhere beyond the Aegean, watching these same stars. Don’t you think it makes them feel closer?”

At that moment, a strong wind picked up, and Zenos had an idea. He ran inside, grabbed a piece of parchment, and wrote, Dad, Phil, and Pegasus, come back soon. While Eri didn’t know what her brother was up to, she saw him folding the parchment into the shape of a bird.

“Ready! With this wind, it should fly easily.”

“Huh?” Eri was confused, but she watched as her brother tossed the parchment bird into the air. For some reason, that piece of parchment floated off toward the sea.
She climbed onto the roof using the ladder and saw the “paper bird” flying away, heading toward the cliffs by the sea.

“It reached the sea.”

“Yes! Do you think they’ll get the message?”

Eri looked at her brother, who was bouncing with joy. His innocent and absurd gesture brought a tender smile to her face. Hades couldn’t believe the foolishness had actually worked. Sometimes fate was inexplicable and whimsical, just like those three harpies, but they couldn’t give him total control of the cosmos! How unfair… At least he was witnessing Erianthe smiling in the most beautiful way he had ever seen.

“You know, I think it will reach them. I have hope that it will.”

She climbed down from the roof and looked at her brother, who was radiating joy and energy. This would be her last night with him. “Her last night,” she thought, feeling a pang in her chest. But she wouldn’t let sadness cloud this evening. She was going to spend it with her family. “You’re becoming more like Dad every day.”

“Really?” Zenos asked, full of excitement.

“You’re like two peas in a pod, if not for your hair, which is the same color as Mom’s. I’d say you’re a ‘mini-Hercules.’”

“I’m not tiny.”

“You’re smaller, Zenos. Anyway, we’ve gotten distracted, ‘little one,’ so now you're going to help me make dinner.”

“Huh? Can’t I go upstairs to see Mom?”

“You will, but after we make dinner, we’ll all eat together, and we’ll sleep together too. What do you say? Shall we push the beds together?”

“Yes! I love that idea.”

“I just remembered something. Do you know what the 105th rule of hero training is?”

“No.”

“When you want to get your target moving, catch them and tickle them.” Eri started tickling Zenos, who finally ran into the house to escape her. Eri laughed and was about to follow him inside, but paused at the door. She turned and saw the God of the Dead still standing there among the trees.

“See you tomorrow,” Eri whispered. She stepped inside and closed the door. Hades didn’t have time to respond; he just stood there for a while, watching as the house lights flickered and the two kids moved around inside, probably preparing dinner. That girl… It was hard to believe how positive she could be in such a grim world. Undoubtedly, the Lord of the Dead thought he was bringing a special mortal to the Underworld.

With that thought in mind, he disappeared, as he had much to prepare.

Inside the house, the siblings finished preparing dinner and the room so the three of them could sleep together. When everything was ready, they woke up their mother.

“Wow, thank you, kids, this is delicious,” their mother said, and the three of them ate porridge, fish, and fruit. Afterward, they prepared the herbs for Meg, and she drank her infusion. Feeling a little better, their mother began to tell a story:

“Your father faced a Hydra just outside of Thebes. He kept cutting off its heads, but so many more grew back that I don’t remember how many heads he was up against at once. Still, his immense strength allowed him to smash through the wall of a mountain, burying the monster. It was a miracle he survived, but he did, and from that day on, he became the greatest hero in all of Greece.”

Eri loved that story. It was the beginning of everything, and her mother always told it with such nostalgia and admiration. At some point, Zenos had fallen asleep, and her mother was drifting off as well, so Eri decided to extinguish the lamp lights and get some rest. She was so nervous that she couldn’t sleep, so she got up and went down to the kitchen.

She lit one of the lamps, took out a piece of parchment, and wrote a few words for her family:

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry to say goodbye this way, but I know you wouldn’t let me leave any other way. I’m leaving to find a better job. As much as I could work in the fields here in the village, I don’t think that income would be enough for you to live on. I’m going to try to find something in Athens, where things are a bit better than in Thebes.

Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll write and send money every month, and as soon as I can, I’ll come visit.

Zenos, take care of Mom and protect the house.

I love you both very much.

Erianthe

P.S. I’m leaving the money I saved from the quarry, Mom. Use it for your remedy and to buy fresh fruit and vegetables.

She left the note on the table, along with the bag of money, and went back to her room. She changed her tunic and packed a bag with some things like underwear, a few tunics, and her travel cloak. From her bedside table, she grabbed her father’s medallion and put it on. She didn’t know what else to take with her. Oh, yes! A drawing she had made of her family and the protective goggles she used to wear in the quarry—those were belongings she cared about and wanted to bring with her to the Underworld.

There wasn’t much time left until dawn, so she went to her mother’s room and saw Zenos curled up next to her. She stood there for a moment, watching them until the sky grew brighter. It was time…

She approached her mother’s bed, leaned down, and kissed both her brother and her mother. She left, knowing they were both asleep. Likewise, she glanced at them one last time and headed down the stairs. She put on her travel cloak and sandals, grabbed her bag, and stepped outside.

A few drops were starting to fall—it was going to be a rainy day. She took a few steps toward the forest and turned to look at her house one last time. There was no sound, only the raindrops falling on the roof and the grass. “That's peaceful,” she thought. She took a deep breath and bowed her head.

“Thank you for everything, Mom, I love you both. Take care of yourselves.” she whispered, trying not to cry, holding back the tears. So she decided to keep walking, heading to the place where she was supposed to meet the god of the dead.

There he was. Imposing. Watching her, ready to take her away.

“Are you ready?” Hades asked, looking at the girl, who was on the verge of tears.

“Yes, I’m ready.” He extended his hand for the girl to take. Hesitant, Eri reached out and took the god’s hand. Immediately, Hades noticed she was trembling. “She’s scared,” he thought, and saw how Eri turned to look at her house while her hand remained in his.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. Erianthe could no longer hold back the tears and began to cry, watching as her home slowly disappeared. A black mist surrounded them, and they found themselves in front of an enormous cave. At the entrance, a portico with two columns was carved into the rock.

Hades looked at the girl, who was now awestruck. He released her hand and said, “We’re a few hours from Thebes. This is one of the entrances to the Underworld, and I recommend you stay with me until we reach my palace.”

The girl nodded. Then Hades entered the cave, and Erianthe followed him down the stairs that led into the darkness of the Underworld.

Chapter Text

Descending to the Underworld was starting to feel eternal. They kept going down the stairs, which seemed endless. Erianthe couldn’t see much ahead either, as the god blocked her view. Besides, there was very little light. The stairs were lit only by a few torches burning with blue flames, like Hades himself.

Neither of them spoke while they descended deeper into the underworld. The god was simply content knowing he finally had the girl in his grasp, but occasionally, he glanced at her. In the dim, eerie torchlight, Erianthe looked beautiful—her ethereal beauty stood out in the gloomy glow. What he couldn’t ignore, though, were the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Deep down, very deep down, the god felt guilty. The truth was, he didn’t like seeing her like this; it was as if the light she normally radiated had been snuffed out. He couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d seen her smile. “Damn it, this isn’t good,” Hades cursed to himself.

Erianthe was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the spiders crawling along the walls until one climbed her arm.

“Ah!” Eri screamed in fright. Hades was startled and noticed her flailing her arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“A-a-a…”

“A what?”

“A spider!”

“Like the one in your hair?”

“Ah! Get it off! Get it off!” Eri screamed again, this time grabbing onto the Lord of the Dead’s robe, who was about to burst out laughing at how ridiculous she looked.
In truth, there wasn’t a spider in her hair, but there was one on her shoulder. Hades removed it and placed it on the wall. “Better this way, I don’t want my subordinate to have a heart attack on her first day.”

“There, you’re fine now. No spiders,” Hades assured her.

“Th-th-thanks… I’m terrified of spiders,” she replied, her voice shaky from the scare.

“Well, get used to it because you’ll find plenty of them down here.” When he looked at the girl, she was as pale as a ghost. “Memo to myself: Erianthe doesn’t like spiders.”

“Don’t make that face. It’s normal to have bugs down here.”

“Great,” the girl muttered sarcastically. The thought of always having to watch out for those creepy crawlers did not sit well with her.

“I suppose it is best if you never meet Arachne,” Hades added.

“Why?”

“You don’t know who she is?”

“Honestly, no…” Erianthe admitted it frankly.

“What do they teach in schools nowadays? Arachne was a woman who was punished by Athena. The truth is, the girl had the guts to challenge her, but it didn’t end well for her.”

“What happened?”

“She was turned into a spider, cursed to weave for all eternity. So, it’s best that you never cross paths with her. I don’t think you’d enjoy seeing a giant spider.” Hades smiled as he noticed Erianthe’s expression of horror. “A giant spider? How awful,” she thought to herself. She was so absorbed in thinking about Arachne’s fate that she didn’t watch her step.

“Whoa!” Eri screamed again, this time slipping. She almost tumbled down the stairs, but before she hit the ground, she felt a hand grab her arm, keeping her from falling.

“You’re so clumsy. You should be more careful and watch where you step,” Hades said, looking at her with disdain.

“But I can’t see anything! It’s barely visible with this light,” Eri retorted, annoyed.

“Oh, sure, let me go build some windows now. Hellooo. We’re underground! Come on, I don’t have all day,” he said, continuing down the stairs, but this time holding Eri’s hand.

“What are you doing? I can walk on my own,” she protested, though she still held on to the god’s hand as they descended.

“I don’t doubt it, but until you get used to the light down here, I’m holding your hand until we reach the river, capisce?” Erianthe stopped arguing, realizing it was useless to go against the god of the dead.

Silence fell between them again as they continued down the stairs, both lost in thought, unaware they were thinking the same thing:

“This is ridiculous. I’m not a child who needs to be led by the hand. Although… I have to admit, his hand is warm and large. Eri, focus! You were thinking the same thing yesterday when he healed you. His hands are warm because his power is fire, that’s all. But, by all the gods, it is kind of nice,” the girl thought, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her thoughts.

At the same time, the god himself couldn’t get out of his head the fact that the girl was right next to him. He was holding her hand to keep her from falling down the stairs and breaking her neck. “This girl will be my downfall. She nearly hurt herself going down these stairs, and I’m going to end up as her nanny. Although… I don’t mind holding her hand. I already noticed yesterday how soft her skin is, and her scent is so pleasant. Hades, focus! Stop thinking nonsense!” The god glanced at the girl, who was paying close attention to the steps, but he also noticed her cheeks were blushing. “Strange,” he thought, remembering that her face had also turned red when he healed her yesterday.

Fortunately, they finally reached the bottom of the stairs. They both looked at their hands and let go immediately, as if the touch had burned them. Erianthe noticed they were standing in front of a dock. She could hear water and remembered Hades had mentioned a river, but she couldn’t see anything. It was very dark, and it seemed as though a thick fog enveloped the entire area, preventing her from seeing beyond where they stood.

“Charon!” Hades called out into the nothingness. A few seconds passed, and out of the mist emerged a boat with a skeletal boatman. Erianthe was startled, as she hadn’t expected the ferryman to be a skeleton.

“Welcome, my lord; I will take you to your palace,” the skeleton said. He stopped the boat by the dock and bowed to Hades.

Hades immediately boarded the boat, while Erianthe stood frozen at the dock, unsure of what to do. She needed to follow Hades, but was there some kind of protocol? To board the boat, she needed to pay a coin—where was her money?

“My lord, this mortal is still alive,” Charon pointed out, noticing the girl rummaging through her bag, seemingly searching for something.

“She’s with me. From now on, she’s part of the team,” Hades replied, eyeing the girl curiously. “What the hell is she doing?”

“Oh! What a surprise! Welcome to the Underworld. I’m Charon, the ferryman of the dead,” the skeleton said, bowing slightly.

“Forgive my manners. Erianthe! I’m Erianthe, from Thebes. Nice to meet you, Lord Charon. Here, take a coin for your service.” Charon stared at her in disbelief. “What a polite girl,” he thought.

“Thank you, but that’s only for the dead. You don’t need to pay me,” Charon tried to refuse as the girl insisted.

“I insist. My grandma told me that to cross the River Styx, you need to give a coin to Charon, or else you might end up on its shores forever.”  Finally, Charon accepted, and Eri boarded the boat. She sat down, and they set off into the fog.

Hades found the girl more and more curious. She hadn’t flinched when a skeleton spoke to her, and she had insisted on paying him like all the mortals. There was something about her that seemed different from everyone else.

“So, you’re from Thebes. It’s been centuries since I’ve heard anything about the chariot races. How are they doing?”

“Well, they’re kind of dead now. Ever since the war started, they haven’t organized many races, and most of the athletes have moved to Athens. Things are less tense there.”

“Really? What a shame. To be honest, many people from Thebes end up down here.”

Erianthe found the ferryman rather friendly, but hearing that most of the dead were from Thebes saddened her. It confirmed that the worst of Greece was happening in her city.

As the fog began to lift, Eri could see how vast the place was—it looked like an immense cavern. What surprised her was that the place no longer seemed as dark. “Could it be that I’m getting used to it?” she wondered. She noticed an eerie, ghostly light coming from the water, so she leaned over slightly, and she couldn’t believe it. Souls!

The River Styx was real—it was full of souls. Erianthe felt a shiver of fear. She had never seen a soul before, and here there weren’t just one or two—thousands of them were swimming in the river’s waters. What impressed her most were their expressions—they seemed to be suffering. Suddenly, a few souls tried to climb onto the boat, reaching for Eri.

“Young lady, save us.”

“Get me out of here, beautiful.”

The souls began to call out to poor Eri, who quickly stood up in fear, seeing how they tried to grab her. Hades swiftly stepped in and hurled a burst of flames at the souls trying to climb aboard.

“Are you okay?” Hades asked, concerned.

Eri snapped out of her shock.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just didn’t expect that.”

“Never look at the river while you're in the boat, alright? Otherwise, they'll try to persuade you to join them in the river.”

“But they were asking for help. Why did you throw fire at them? Won’t that make them suffer?”

“Do you really care about those souls?” Hades felt a headache coming on; this girl was giving him a lot to think about. But seeing the look of concern on her face, he answered, “No, they can’t suffer from the fire anymore, and they all ask for help. But remember, not all souls are good.”

Erianthe nodded. The lord of the dead returned to his position at the front of the boat, looking ahead. Soon, the gates that led to the palace would open. Suddenly, he felt someone grab his robe. He was about to incinerate, once again, the audacity of those souls who kept trying to escape, but then he realized it wasn’t a soul—it was Erianthe, standing beside him, still looking somewhat scared from earlier. Without saying a word, Hades allowed the girl to hold on to his robe.

Suddenly, some gates opened, revealing the river continuing through the cavern, though it opened up much wider now. At the far end, the palace of Hades came into view—an imposing and threatening structure, just like its owner. Erianthe was amazed, as the entire structure was carved into the stone in the shape of a skull. The stone was polished to give it a spectral and eerie shine. Whoever built it was a genius.

“Wow, it’s incredible.” Eri muttered, captivated by the sight of the palace. It truly was a work of art, majestic in its own way, fit for a king.

Hades overheard the girl. He looked at her in disbelief—no one had ever referred to that part of the Underworld as “incredible.” “This girl is really strange,” he thought, though he appreciated that she admired this kind of architecture.

On one side of the river stood Cerberus, growling and barking non-stop. Erianthe jumped, not expecting Cerberus to be so huge. She knew he had three heads but hadn’t imagined him being so fierce. Unbothered, Hades threw him a piece of meat, and the three heads lunged for it, fighting eagerly to devour it. As the boat drifted away, the heads continued bickering over who would get the meat.

“You're lucky. You have a dog,” Eri said suddenly.

“Lucky? Do you know what it's like to take him for a walk? It's pure torture,” Hades replied.

“I wouldn't know. I’ve never had a pet. My mom doesn’t let me keep animals at home.”

“Pets are a lot of responsibility, kid. Cerberus is here to be a guardian, but taking care of him is like having a pain in the butt.”

“You exaggerate; I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“You’ll see. Dare you take him for a walk?” Hades asked with a mischievous smile. Eri glared at him. To be honest, she didn’t feel capable of handling a giant dog—it would likely tear her apart. “See, even you wouldn’t do it,” the god added, satisfied with the girl’s reaction.

They continued sailing in silence until they reached the palace dock. Hades was the first to step off the boat and offered a hand to the mortal to help her disembark, not wanting any more incidents. The girl hesitated, but soon accepted his help.

“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you too, Charon,” Eri added, smiling at the ferryman.

“You’re welcome, Erianthe,” Charon replied. If the skeleton could smile, he would have. It had been eons since anyone had thanked him. Having completed his task, the ferryman returned to the other shore of the river to await the newly arrived souls.

“Did you see that, Pain? She’s here; she’s arrived.”

“Yes, now it’s our turn.”

Erianthe overheard a pair of voices in the distance.

“Pain!” Hades called out.

“Coming, Your Gloominess,” Eri said, seeing a small purple demon hurrying down the stairs. He tripped and ended up impaled by his rear on one of the torch spikes.

“Panic!” the god continued.

“Oh, sorry! I’ll fix it!” said another small green demon, rushing down the stairs. He collided with the first one, who had just freed himself, sending both tumbling down. Pain ended up face down, and Panic impaled himself on Pain’s rear.

“Ow!” The god of the dead didn’t know where to look—his minions were a joke, and Eri was barely holding back her laughter.

“Pain.”

“And Panic,” they presented themselves. “Reporting for duty!”

Erianthe couldn’t hold it in anymore. When she saw that the green demon had ended up “stuck” on the other demon’s backside, she burst into laughter.

“HAHAHAHA, you two are hilarious!” she exclaimed. The demons grinned. “She thinks we’re funny!”

Hades was irritated and decided to get to the point.

“Alright, Eri, welcome to the palace of the underworld. Now it’s time to introduce you to the ‘torture’ you’ll endure for all eternity.”

Erianthe stopped laughing. She had completely forgotten that from now on, this place would be her prison and that she was at the mercy of the god, who now smiled at her with malicious grin.

Chapter Text

Hades looked with satisfaction at how Hercules' daughter stared at him in fear after his words. “Good, I've managed to scare her a bit more,” he thought.

“As we agreed yesterday, you're going to work for moi, doing whatever, whenever, and however I decide. You can't oppose it, you know that.”

Part of Erianthe regretted being so impulsive and accepting Hades' deal without really thinking things through or considering better alternatives. But it was too late. Unfortunately, she found herself at the palace dock of the Lord of the Dead, in the underworld, without knowing what that god had in store for her or what torture awaited her.

“I remember, so don’t drag it out any longer and do what you have to do. Torture me all you want.” Erianthe blurted out unexpectedly, as if her words were challenging Hades, though in reality, it seemed like she was trying to hide the fear she was feeling at that moment. “Better to get it over quickly,” Eri told herself.

“Ha! Do you want me to scorch you? For that, it’s better if I take you to Tartarus. Yeah, on second thought, I'll lock you up there so you can suffer more than you've ever suffered in your short life. What do you say?” He looked at her, searching her eyes for the terror mortals felt at the mere mention of Tartarus. But instead, all he found was a look of resignation, as if she accepted that this was her fate. “This girl has guts, but she’s so naive.”

“But you know what? Before you end up in Tartarus, I want you to do some other things… for me.” His gaze shifted to a more unsettling one; he was toying with her, and the King of the Underworld loved it. “Boys, you know what to do.”

Erianthe didn’t understand what had just happened. She had gone from facing eternal torture in Tartarus to who knows what. She looked at the little demons, who had conjured up two wooden boards and bone-shaped pencils out of nowhere. “What on earth is all this?”

“As we said before, welcome to the Underworld,” Pain said.

“We’re going to introduce you to your new life down here, and first you’ll go through,” Panic added.

“The Underworld Orientation!” they both exclaimed at once. Eri looked at them with a face that said, “You must be joking.” But no, the two little demons looked at her seriously, so she glanced over at Hades, who was watching her with a mocking smile. “He’s messing with me. What an idiot,” Erianthe thought, feeling slightly relieved that she wasn’t going to Tartarus just yet, but also nervous about what kind of job they had in mind for her.

“Well, miss, to begin with, you need to fill out the Underworld employee form, but since we’re short on time, we’ll ask you the questions as we head up to the throne room. That way, we can assign you your new job right away,” Panic informed her.

“Alright, go ahead,” the girl replied. The imps started climbing the stairs, and Eri followed them. Behind her, Hades trailed closely, curious about how Meg's daughter would answer.

“Alright, let’s start,” the green demon continued. “What’s your name?”

“Erianthe.”

“How old are you?” this time the purple demon asked.

“I’m 15.”

“When is your birthday?”

“March 20th.”

“Oh! Pisces. That fits with what we saw yesterday, yes, and a change of season too,” Panic noted, scribbling it down. Erianthe raised an eyebrow. “Is he talking about horoscopes?”

“Your parents’ names?” The girl glared at them a bit, since they clearly already knew who her parents were, but she decided to play along.

“Hercules and Megara.” She felt a pang in her chest when she said her parents' names. She missed them and thought about how her mother might have reacted to the note in the kitchen.

“Where were you born?” Pain interrupted her thoughts. “More questions?”

“Thebes.”

“But you don’t live there anymore?”

“No, now I live near the village of Thivaiki, which they now call the agricultural district of Thebes.”

“Districts?”

“Yes, the new king decided to divide the region into districts, with Thebes as the capital.”

“And how come you’re living in that district? Your father made enough money to live somewhere else, didn’t he?”

“Five years ago, the king expropriated many families from their homes, looting all their wealth. But moreover, we were accused of treason, so they burned our house down while we were still inside.”

At that statement, the little demons stopped and stared at her, horrified. “What? So, five years ago, his nephew’s whole family almost died?” Hades was partially pleased they hadn’t died, as he could ensure that the family would suffer a worse fate later. But when he saw the girl’s expression, something stirred within him, and it wasn’t his stomach.

“Treason?”

“I don’t want to talk about it now, guys. Can we move on to the next question?”

Hades' two minions looked over at their master, seeking his permission to either press further or skip that part. The god nodded; they would dig into what had really happened with his nephew’s family five years ago later.

“Alright,” Panic said, “do you know your height or weight?”

The girl blushed. She understood that her current weight was far from healthy.

“N-no, I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a check-up. Aside from today, I haven’t seen a doctor in years, but I feel perfectly fine.”

The three of them observed the girl. As beautiful as she was, it was obvious from a mile away that she wasn’t eating as well as she should. Erianthe noticed they were scrutinizing her.

“What? It’s true. I feel fine. Sure, I should probably eat more, but you’ve seen how things are up there. I eat what I can afford,” she replied, annoyed. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the growl of Eri’s stomach, and her face turned even redder than before. “It’s just that. I haven’t eaten breakfast,” she said in a small voice, embarrassed.

“Mm, well, we can give you a check-up today. That way, we can see just how fine you are, and we’ll show you where the canteen is too,” Pain said. “Let’s see. Next question: What’s your education level?”

“I only attended school until I was eight. Then I was homeschooled by my mother,” the girl answered more calmly.

“Until you were eight? You didn’t even graduate from basic education, miss.”

“It’s not my fault! Two years after the war started, they closed the schools. They said that the teachers were putting ideas in our heads that didn't help the state, so they shut them down and killed any teachers who refused.”

Again, another decree from the King of Thebes. Hades no longer had much interest in knowing him—he seemed like a ruthless barbarian. Hades was at least cultured, and he would never dream of denying mortals an education.

Throughout the entire journey, Hades watched his new subordinate closely. He was so curious to learn more about her that he listened to the entire ridiculous interview, something he had never done before. He hated bureaucracy, but hey, he ran a business and had to keep things in order. That’s why he left these tasks to his underlings.

He didn’t quite understand why, but something about this kid intrigued him, while at the same time, it annoyed him. From her answers, he could tell she hadn’t had an easy life. He had seen it in the way she responded to the questions, and he had witnessed it when he spied on her the day before. And yet, she still smiled. More than that, she radiated a light he had never seen before—a light that seemed to come from a spirit that refused to give up.

They had already reached the doors of the throne room when Hades spoke:

“Guys, I think you have everything you need for the report. Finalize her employee pass, and then take her for the medical check-up. I need to finish speaking to her.”
“Oh! Are you going to give her your personal touch, boss? That works great with the newcomers,” Panic said.

“Go get her, boss!” added Pain, and they left, off to wherever they were going to make Erianthe’s ID.

Hades was irritated and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those two can be worse than sitting next to Trivia at a banquet.”

He turned to see the girl, who was staring at the throne room door, mesmerized. The door was massive, made entirely of black marble, with countless skeleton-like figures carved into it. It was macabre, but to Erianthe, it seemed magnificent. She touched the door, expecting the polished feel of marble, and indeed, it was perfect. Too bad it was covered in a thick layer of dust, and part of it was missing, with a huge hole beside it.

“Ahem!” Erianthe snapped out of her trance. Hades was standing next to her, eyebrows raised. “It’s the first time I’ve seen someone so fascinated by this door,” he thought.

“Sorry to interrupt your curiosity about the door, but we have business to settle, and I’m a very busy god, so I don’t have all day.” He gestured. “Follow me. Watch out for the rubble from the hole. A certain hero came storming in on Cerberus and destroyed part of the entrance to the throne room,” the lord of the underworld added with a hint of irony.

“My father? He did this?” Erianthe was surprised. Her father had come down here 17 years ago to save her mother.

“Oh, right! He told us he entered the throne room riding Cerberus, but he did not mention that the underworld's dog was giant or that he left such a gaping hole when he came in.” She looked at the hole again with fresh eyes, imagining the scene in her head. For a moment, she thought, “I wish he were here to come and rescue me.”

“Your father did that, and it will be expensive to fix everything and make it look like it did before. Not to mention, I’ll need to hire more people for the reconstruction.”

Once inside the room, the girl was astonished by how vast it was. In the middle, there was a table—or what remained of it—covered with what seemed to be a map of Greece. At the far end was Hades’ throne. She noticed that not only was the room full of dust and rubble, but it was also partially charred, as if someone had set the entire place on fire. Had it been the Lord of the Underworld himself?

When they reached the throne, Hades sat down and looked at the girl, savoring the moment of being back in his seat. He noticed that Eri was examining the entire room with a curious look and a sparkle in her eyes, something he had never seen in anyone who had visited the underworld. No one ever appreciated the realm of the dead.

“Alright, let’s finish discussing business and your assignment in the underworld.” He said the last part with a malicious tone.

A chill ran down Eri’s spine. She had a bad feeling. If she wasn’t going to Tartarus for now, what was in store for her? Torture? Prostitution? That last thought made her fear Hades even more. “What if he wanted to abuse her?” she wondered.

Her mother had never mentioned Hades laying a finger on her, but “what if she had just sugar-coated her stories and left out other things?” She didn’t know what to think, but Hades seemed to pick up on her fear, his malicious grin growing. Yet, she was bound by the deal she had made with him. She was inescapably bound to him.

“I don’t know what you’re imagining, but I like the look on your face right now,” Hades said.

“You’re a sadist,” Erianthe retorted.

“Me? You don’t have to flatter me like that, girl.” Hades laughed at her remark, thinking, “This mortal is going to entertain me a lot.”

“Anyway, let’s get to the point. Today, you’ll finish your orientation. Pain and Panic will show you around, give you the check-up, and blah blah blah. You know the drill. Today will be full of paperwork, so tomorrow, at sunrise, you’ll start working.”

“And how will I know the sun has risen?” The girl raised an eyebrow, thinking, “There’s no sun down here.”

“Don’t worry about that. You’ll see how you wake up early.”

The god stood up from his throne and walked over to what remained of the map of Greece. He ran a finger across its surface, and just like the door, it had a thick layer of dust.

“The Underworld isn’t what it used to be, especially after your father decided to come down and pull your mother’s soul out of the vortex of souls. Look at this place! And it’s because of your family.”

He turned to look at the girl. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, as if realizing for the first time that the dreadful state of the realm of the dead was essentially the result of her father and mother’s actions.

“That’s why you’ll have to pay for their deeds. Besides, your dear father broke part of the deal we made: 'if your mother left, he had to stay.' In the end, neither of them stayed in the underworld. And no one cheats the god of the dead; do you understand, girl?” Hades’ voice grew threatening.

Erianthe nodded, fully understanding why this god was the most feared of all. She was terrified, wanting to cry, and was almost sure she was trembling with fear at that moment.

Hades was elated. His threats were having the desired effect on the mortal. She looked desperate, on the verge of breaking down. “I’ve got her in the palm of my hand. Let’s see how she handles what I’m about to tell her now,” the king of the underworld thought with a smile.

“For now, you won’t be going to Tartarus, nor will I take your soul to the Styx, but you’re going to make up for what your father did. So, starting tomorrow, you’ll begin cleaning and tidying the entire underworld. After that, we’ll see where to relocate you.”

For a few minutes, the throne room fell into silence.

“What?” Erianthe exclaimed. “I’m just supposed to clean? That’s my punishment?”

“What do you mean, 'what'? Do you know how big the Underworld is? How long do you think it’ll take you to clean it all?” The god was getting more heated.
“A week?” the girl replied hesitantly.

“Hahaha, don’t make me laugh, kid! A week? You’re hilarious. This place took more than a century to build.” The god’s flames returned to their usual bluish color.
“More than a century? So, am I going to spend my whole life cleaning the underworld?”

“That’s up to you. Or would you rather go to Tartarus?”

“No, no, no! I’d rather clean. That way, I’ll fix what my father did. I promise,” Erianthe said determinedly.

“Perfect. Make this place shine, or you’ll go straight to a cell in Tartarus.”

Hades was going to make sure the girl’s life in the Underworld was a living hell, even if it was just by making her keep it spotless.

“Now, welcome to Team Hades, Erianthe,” and the god smiled with satisfaction, knowing that Hercules’ daughter would be trapped in the Underworld for eternity.

Chapter Text

After Hades told her what her job would be in the Underworld, Pain and Panic showed up to give her the ID and take her for a medical check-up.

She followed the imps to the exit of the throne room, but before leaving through the hole, she glanced back at the lord of the dead. He had sat back on his throne, but this time he was hunched forward, holding his head in both hands. Unlike what she had seen so far, the god looked exhausted, as if carrying a great burden.

She didn’t give it much thought, since this god had brought her to the Underworld to be his servant for all eternity. “Why feel sympathy for someone who probably hates her?” Eri thought as she shook her head to push away those thoughts and left the throne room, following Hades’ two subordinates, who were animatedly talking about what her orientation session would be like.

As soon as the trio left, Hades let out a sigh. He really felt tired. Ever since he had escaped the vortex of souls, he had come to the surface to track the girl, and he had barely slept. But whenever he closed his eyes, his mind brought back memories of being surrounded by souls—slimy and cold. They were far from pleasant sensations, especially because all those souls had dragged him away from the surface, scratching his skin, biting him, and blaming him, The suffering we endure is your fault. “His fault? No way,” Hades thought. The dead ending up in the River Styx was their destiny; what did it have to do with him if it wasn’t comfortable? But he wasn’t going to let 17 years trapped in that filthy prison torment him.

Fortunately for the king of the underworld, he had managed to trap the daughter of his nemesis in his realm. “This brat will help me blackmail her family. And her grandfather? I might even try that.” Hades’ thoughts were interrupted by a scent that had recently become familiar to him—her scent—and for some strange reason, he felt calmer, more at ease. Nonsense, but his nightmares from the vortex disappeared as soon as he breathed in her scent again.

Erianthe passed her medical check-up, but with a few warnings. A skeleton that resembled Charon took notes on her height, weight, and the other tests they did. The little demons were with her the whole time, except when she had to lift her tunic to check her breathing and heartbeat. At that moment, they blushed deeply and turned around to give the girl privacy.

“Well, young lady, I have to say you’re in pretty good health, but you’re under your ideal weight. You need to eat a more varied and rich diet, or you could get sick. But you’re fit to start working,” the skeleton, who reminded her of Hippocrates, told her.

“Noted, Agapios. We’ll figure something out about that later. The important thing is that you’re cleared to start working. Well, Eri, follow us. We’re going to take you to the orientation room, and here, this is your Underworld employee ID,” Pain informed her.

Erianthe grabbed the ID. She knew very well that she was underweight. Her ribs were visible, and she often felt weak or dizzy, something she didn’t mention to Agapios. She just wanted to pass the check-up and not give Hades more reasons to hold anything over her. She had already given him her soul and freedom; she wasn’t going to give him anything else.

Likewise, she looked at the ID, a rectangular piece of stone with her name engraved on it and her employee number: 1,229,001. “A million? How many employees are there?” She also noticed that her face was carved into it, and they had done an excellent job in such a short time.

“Follow us to the orientation room, where we’ll provide you information about the Underworld, schedules, and finally, we’ll take you to your quarters,” the little demon continued explaining.

“I have a room?”

“Of course, miss! We’re not barbarians. The boss runs a respectable operation, and it’s clear that he ensures his employees are accommodated if they have to live down here. He’s very responsible about that,” Panic replied this time.

Eri honestly hadn’t imagined the Lord of the Dead as so proper and responsible in that regard, but she had to admit she only knew him from what little she had seen and heard. So she could not really judge what he was like as a boss.

They arrived at a dark room, like most of the Underworld, lit by torches. There were several chairs facing a larger table. The setup reminded Eri of when she used to go to school as a child. “What memories.” She thought nostalgically. She really missed school, where she met with friends and learned new things. Not only that, but she loved it, as it gave her a chance to learn more about the world. But now, here she was, in a classroom in the Underworld, learning about the realm of the dead.
She hadn’t noticed at first, but hanging behind the table was a banner that read, Welcome to Orientation. She sat in one of the chairs in the front row and was going to be the only person there, along with Hades’ two henchmen. “Great, a private class.”

“Well, Erianthe, welcome to orientation. Here, on this scroll, you’ll find the schedule for the cafeterium, public baths, and the basic rules of the Underworld, such as:

1. No feeding Cerberus, unless you want him to tear you apart.

2. No bathing in the River of the Dead unless you want to become a permanent resident.

3. No talking to the souls, and don’t pull them from the river.

4. No eating the food of the underworld, or you’ll be permanently bound to this world and won’t be able to return to the land of the living.

5. No entering Tartarus without supervision.

6. No going to the Elysian Fields.

7. No bathing in the River Lethe, unless you want to lose your memory.

8. No entering Hades’ quarters. If he catches you there without permission, he’ll literally fry you.

9. No entering the Underworld library; it’s for Hades’ exclusive use.

10. No escaping the Underworld. You can only leave when the boss gives you permission.

“So many rules…” Erianthe muttered to herself.

“Better follow them if you don’t want to get into serious trouble,” Panic suggested. “Oh! And you can’t use the boss’s hot springs either, just the public baths.”

“By the way, if I can’t eat anything from the Underworld, what am I supposed to eat?”

“Don’t worry about that. There’s a menu for mortals, or if you prefer, you can cook for yourself.”

“Oh! Really? I like cooking, so yes, I think I could make my own food.”

“Great! Now that we’ve gone over the rules and schedules, let’s move on to the history of this place.”

Pain began recounting the history of the Underworld, so Erianthe started taking notes. Nearly three hours later, they moved on to the next topic—safety regulations, which took another two hours. Erianthe had lost track of time, but her legs were numb from sitting so long. They also showed her which areas she’d need to clean most frequently and how to navigate through all of them.

“I have a question. How do I clean the areas that are off-limits?”

At Erianthe's question, the two imps exchanged glances, realizing they hadn’t thought of that. Without Hades’ authorization, they couldn’t answer.

“I’ll be your supervisor.” Everyone turned to see the god of the dead leaning against the door. “When it’s time to clean the library, the hot springs, and the vortex of souls, the Elysian Fields don’t need cleaning—they belong to Olympus. And Tartarus—well, it’s fine as it is. It’s meant for tortured souls and monsters that are better off never seeing the light of day again, so there’s no need. Unless, of course, you’d like to live there.” Hades smiled.

“No, no, I’d rather clean the rest. I don’t need a tour of Tartarus,” Eri quickly replied.

“Good. So, what’s left, guys? You’ve been here almost all day.”

“We’re almost done, boss. Just the palace tour and showing her to her room,” Pain informed him.

“You still haven’t done the tour?” Hades asked, surprised. Even though he couldn’t see the sun, he knew that it was almost sunset on the surface.

“We’re sorry, boss. It’s just that the girl has asked so many questions—look, she even took notes!” Panic pointed to the scroll Eri was holding. Hades walked over, and sure enough, the girl had written down a lot about the Underworld. He was both surprised and proud. Until now, no one had ever shown interest in the Underworld, and it had to be Hercules’ daughter who broke that rule. “How ironic,” Hades thought, but he wasn’t going to soften up, not in the slightest.

“Very well, I see you’re a diligent student. But I’ll join you for the tour myself, just in case it takes you a week.” Hades added a hint of mockery.

The two minions showed Erianthe where the baths were, the restricted library, and the cafeterium. Overall, everything seemed pretty dead—pun intended—but Eri noticed there weren’t many employees. The ones she did see were skeletons, like Charon or Agapios, or a few other little demons, like Pain and Panic. “Where are all the monsters?” she wondered. Her mother had told her Hades had many monsters under his command, but so far, she hadn’t seen any.

As for the food being served, it seemed to consist of bugs, worms, and eyes. Fingers? “By the gods, is this part of the menu?” Erianthe thought in horror. Hades noticed the disgusted look on her face.

“Relax; you’re not going to eat any of that.” But he noticed another concern in her expression. “Oh, that.” He added, “And no one’s going to sneak into your room, dismember you, and put you on the menu. Don’t worry.”

“Are those… human remains?” Eri asked.

“No, not at all. They’re animals or other creatures. We’re not cannibals here, I assure you. Scout’s honor.”

Erianthe didn’t seem entirely convinced but decided to drop the subject. She began hearing whispers.

“Have you seen? She’s a mortal.”

“Yeah, and a pretty one.”

“What’s she doing here?”

Those comments started to make Hercules' daughter uncomfortable. She wanted to hide, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. Hades noticed how she lowered her head, trying to blend in. “She always wants to go unnoticed. She doesn’t even realize how beautiful she is. Wait, did I just think she was beautiful? By the River Styx, Hades, you’re getting old and thinking things you shouldn’t.” The god was lost in an internal debate, but thanks to the intervention of his minions, he snapped out of those silly thoughts.

“Come on, miss, we’ll show you where the food for mortals is and where you can cook it.”

They led her through a back door to a small pantry full of food from the surface, and not far away, the kitchen. When the girl saw so much food, her eyes widened. It had been so long since she’d seen so much food in one place that her stomach betrayed her, growling in complaint from not having eaten all day.

“Wow, are you hungry?” Pain asked, and the girl nodded, embarrassed. “Well, grab some fruit; remember what the doctor said.”

Erianthe didn’t hesitate to grab some fruit. The imps then told her they’d show her where she would sleep, while Hades followed behind. He imagined what the doctor had said—you didn't need to be a genius to see that the girl needed to eat more, but given how things were up on the surface, she probably didn’t have much choice. He found it amusing to see her so happy over a piece of fruit; it was something he could get used to—seeing her smile. “Again with these damn thoughts.”

They arrived at her room, and Erianthe was surprised to find it was a spacious place, complete with a bed and a wardrobe… it had everything, even new tunics.
“Well, Eri, we’ll let you settle in. Remember, the cafeterium will be open for a couple more hours, and so will the baths. See you later for dinner,” the demons said their goodbyes, and Hades simply turned around and vanished.

Not sure what to do until tomorrow, she took the chance to unpack the few belongings she had brought, except for her father’s medallion and a drawing of her family, which she placed on her bedside table. She was so tired that when she sat on the bed, she immediately laid down and fell asleep.

Pain and Panic informed Hades that the girl hadn’t shown up for dinner. Annoyed, the god went to her room to find her. On top of being hospitable to her, she wasn’t even grateful. She was going to hear about it. He entered the room without knocking and found her lying there, asleep. Instantly, his anger subsided. She looked so peaceful and relaxed. He approached to get a closer look. She really was beautiful.

He was about to leave when he noticed a golden medallion on the nightstand—the medallion of the gods, the one given to Hercules at birth. “She has it?” Then, he saw the drawing of her family and noticed it was signed by her. He was surprised by how well it was done. “She draws very well.”

This girl was full of surprises, but tomorrow she would face what the Underworld was truly like.

“Sleep while you can. You’ll see what awaits you tomorrow.” Hades whispered before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

Erianthe woke up. For a moment, she thought she was at home and that her mother was waiting downstairs in the kitchen with breakfast. She opened her eyes, ready to jump up and go cut wood, but stopped when her gaze focused on the ceiling.

It hadn’t been a nightmare. She really was in the underworld.

She sat up in bed; she should have known. This place was so different from her home: dark and cold, but at the same time, spacious and comfortable. Although it needed a good dusting, like the rest of Hades' palace, the room had everything. Even though the decor was minimal, the furniture was of exquisite quality, just like the mattress. Not even the mattress she had back in the village had been this comfortable! But it was missing something significant: her family.

She had only been away from home for a day, but she missed them terribly. She couldn’t stop thinking about how they must have reacted to her note. How her mother must have been so angry she cried out of sheer frustration, and how her little brother likely broke down in tears. She just hoped her mother wouldn’t rush off to Thebes searching for Patroclus to find out where she was or why she had left. Luckily, she knew her mother was careful.

What hurt her the most was the thought that, if her mother found out she had sold her soul to Hades—the same god her mother had once sold her soul to—she’d be even more furious. But more than that, she’d probably be disappointed, right? Disappointed in her behavior? And not just her—her father too?
A few tears slid down her cheeks. Thinking about them hurt so much. She would never see them again.

“Eri, snap out of it! You have to be strong and own up to your decisions and their consequences,” she thought, shaking herself out of it. She couldn’t stay there all day; that would only make things worse.

She didn’t know what time it was, so she thought the best thing to do was check if the baths were open to freshen up quickly, then grab something to eat at the cafeterium. Luckily, the baths weren’t far from her room, so she grabbed a clean tunic and headed to the hot springs.

Thankfully, they were already open. There was no one there, and just like in the cafeterium yesterday, a skeleton was managing the entrance.

“Welcome! You're up early. Everyone's still sleeping. Is this your first time?” Eri nodded in response. “Perfect, well, these baths are mixed, but if by any chance you prefer bathing alone, this time or the last hour of the day are best. Barely a soul shows up, hahaha—get it?”

Eri tried to laugh at the bad joke, but she figured she'd need to get along with her new companions, so she’d have to get used to that kind of humor.

“I see you appreciate a good joke, I like that. By the way, my name is Ajax.”

“Erianthe, nice to meet you.”

“Such a beautiful name! Well, Erianthe, here's a towel. Head straight ahead, and you'll find the changing rooms. Leave your things in one of the lockers there, then come out to the baths with your towel.”

“Thanks, Ajax. That's very kind of you,” she replied warmly.

“Don't mention it. Enjoy the view!” Eri looked at him, waiting for another joke, but seeing the skeleton return to other tasks, she walked in, still puzzled by his comment about the view. “View? What view?” She wasn’t sure what he meant.

Inside the changing room, she saw numerous lockers. She didn’t love the idea of mixed baths, but she guessed there weren’t many women down here, so she had no choice but to adapt and use the baths during quieter times.

She undressed and wrapped herself in the towel before heading into the bathing area. To her surprise, it was a spacious, warm, and well-lit area. She looked up and noticed lights seemingly coming from the rocks—were those worms? Whatever they were, they cast an ethereal glow, almost like magic.

Like the throne room, everything was made of polished black marble. It was stunning. Water flowed from various fountains, there were benches, and even oils and soap were provided. Honestly, it wasn’t bad at all. The King of the Underworld seemed to take good care of his employees.

What she hadn’t expected was to see a partially roofed pool. “So that's what he meant by the view,” Eri thought, as part of the pool extended out onto a sort of balcony.

Curious, Eri quickly showered. A smile crept across her face—it had been years since she had bathed in hot water, and it was so relaxing! Once she was clean, she jumped into the pool.

“By the gods! This… this is amazing.” Megara's daughter was thrilled—a pool of hot water was a real luxury. She swam to the exterior part of the pool, and what she saw left her speechless: she could see part of the River Styx, and… were those the Elysian Fields? Yes, from there she could see the Underworld from above, as she was in the highest part of the palace. It was a spectacular view, at least for her.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of someone getting into the water. “Damn, I don’t want anyone to see me naked,” Eri thought. However, that was going to be inevitable since the baths were mixed. She turned to see who it was, but there was no one—she was alone.

“Weird, I could’ve sworn I heard someone enter the water,” she thought, only to be interrupted by the sound of splashing, but it wasn’t her or anyone else in the pool. “Wait, what?” She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the other pool, located above the employees' one. And there, in all his splendor, was the god of the dead, standing at the edge of the pool, gazing at the view.

Eri didn’t move a muscle. She wasn’t about to let the god of the dead see her like this. Luckily, it seemed like he hadn’t noticed she was in the employees' pool. “I guess he doesn’t care if others are bathing,” she thought, only to then realize Hades was, in fact, naked, though she could only see his well-toned torso and biceps. “What? Did I just think about what I think I did? No way. Well, yes. Damn! I just thought Hades had well-toned biceps.” Erianthe mentally scolded herself and likely turned as red as a tomato. She decided to get out of the pool before Hades noticed her.

Meanwhile, the god was completely lost in his thoughts, paying no attention to the employees' bath below. Another night without sleeping well—but that was nothing new. Not only were the recent memories of the vortex haunting him, but also ancient memories from eons ago.

A good bath always relaxed him, easing the tension in his muscles. He would ask Ajax for a good massage later. “Yeah, I need one, like, right now,” Hades thought, eyes closed. Just then, he felt it—someone was watching him. On impulse, he looked around but didn’t see anyone. “Of course, this is my private area.” Then it occurred to him that perhaps one of his subordinates had gotten up early and was in the bath below.

He glanced down and noticed someone had just submerged in the water. He couldn’t see clearly who it was since they swam under the covered section, but he caught a glimpse of a small orange head emerging from the water and heading toward the pool's exit. “Erianthe? Was she bathing?” The thought of it made the god of the dead blush. “What the hell? I’m not a teenager—why should I care if she was bathing?” He tried to distract himself with other thoughts, but without much success. “Damn brat.”

Erianthe quickly got out of the pool, grabbed her towel, and rushed to the changing room. She dressed in her clean tunic and headed straight for the public bath exit. Ajax wasn’t around, so she made her way back to her room.

Once inside, she took a deep breath. Her heart was racing. She didn't understand why she had gotten so worked up or why her heart was beating so fast. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a man’s torso. She’d seen her friends before and never felt uncomfortable. “Of course, because you're comfortable with your friends,” Eri thought. But with the god, she had no relationship with him, though from now on, she would be his subordinate for the rest of her life.

Gradually, she calmed down. She walked over to the vanity and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she found a comb and brushed through her mane. It had been a long time since she’d done that, partly due to a lack of time, and also because her last comb had broken from the tangles in her hair.

Once she finished, she checked herself again. Her hair had grown, but she wasn’t going to tie it up yet, as it was still quite damp. She decided to let it air dry, though she could no longer dry it under the sun like she used to. Maybe she could ask Pain and Panic for advice on what to do down here.

Before heading to the cafeterium, she gave herself one last look in the mirror and had to admit that her new tunic was stunning. It was a dark blue color that almost looked black, with golden details. She couldn’t resist smiling at the sight of herself dressed like this. She felt like a girl again and not a wreck, even though her situation hadn’t exactly improved—she was now trapped in the Underworld.

When she arrived at the cafeterium, it was almost empty, save for two little demons and the cook. She went straight to the pantry they had shown her the day before and grabbed several pieces of fruit, some cereal, and—feta cheese? She could make something delicious with the cheese! Not only that, but she had the ingredients to make pita bread, and it was still quite early.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but when she finished cooking, she noticed Pain and Panic entering, searching for breakfast.
“Good morning, Eri!” greeted Pain. “I see you're an early riser. We went to wake you, but you weren’t there.”

“Good morning,” she replied with a smile. “I couldn’t sleep, so I took the chance to freshen up and make myself some breakfast.”

“Smells great, can we try some?” Panic asked, practically drooling over Eri's food.

“Of course,” she said, offering them feta cheese rolls, along with some fruit salad mixed with cereal, honey, and a touch of cinnamon. The little demons' eyes widened in surprise at how good it all tasted.

“This is delicious! We never eat stuff like this; the cook usually makes us food for the dead, nothing fresh.”

“Thanks, guys. I can cook something for you anytime,” Eri said with a smile. The two demons were thrilled with her—she was kind, respectful, and didn’t treat them poorly. She was very different from her mother. Now, they felt a little bad about the prank they had planned for her.

“Well, Eri, ready for your first day of work?” Pain asked.

“Mmm, yeah, I think so. Should I be?” Eri sensed something was off. “Where do I start?”

“You'll begin by cleaning the throne room, mainly getting rid of all the rubble and dusting everything off.”

“Uh-huh, okay.”

“Yeah, but first, you have to take the boss his breakfast,” Panic added.

“What?”

“Yep, the boss likes having his breakfast brought to him. He loves a bowl of worms and a fig smoothie.”

“Right, anything else?” Eri wrote down her new boss's order.

“Oh! Why don’t you bring him something you made? I’m sure he’ll like it.” The demons exchanged glances, knowing full well how much Hades hated having his routine, especially his breakfast, changed.

“Alright, I’ll get it ready now,” she said, heading off to the kitchen. Meanwhile, the two demons chuckled to themselves—messing with the newbies was always fun, and Eri was no exception.

Eri prepared the breakfast. The cook had told her how Hades liked his worms, so she didn’t question it, since she had no idea how to prepare them anyway. What disgusted her the most was that they were still alive. “Ugh,” she thought, watching the worms squirm in the bowl.

She finished making the fig smoothie with a special touch and added some of what she had made for herself. She decided to give it a personal touch, like how her mother used to leave her little notes saying Good morning when she packed her lunch for school. “Maybe that'll help him be less grumpy,” Eri thought, figuring it’s always good to make a good impression on the first day.

“Oh! We almost forgot,” Pain said. “You have to knock on the door, go in, and there’s a small table by the door where you can leave the breakfast. Knock, set it down, and leave, okay?”

“Right, but I’m not supposed to enter his quarters, technically.”

“Bringing him breakfast is the one exception.”

“Fine. Any other ridiculous instructions?” Eri was getting tired of all the rules.

“Nope, that’s all. Once you’ve left the tray, head to the throne room—we’ll be waiting for you there.”

With that, she headed to the god’s chambers to deliver his breakfast. Each step made her more nervous, especially after this morning’s encounter, but she couldn’t let a pair of muscular biceps rattle her.

When she reached the door, she froze for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. She stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, but she could make out a huge bed. In truth, the room was sparsely decorated, but everything was luxurious and elegant—nothing too extravagant. She noticed a tapestry depicting a stunningly beautiful woman.

Suddenly, she heard a noise. Following the instructions of the two little demons, she quickly set the breakfast on the small table, closed the door, and hurried out. Five minutes later, she was in the throne room.

There stood Pain and Panic, waiting for Eri, and they explained what she needed to do with the debris when they suddenly heard the god storm into the throne room, furious.

“Who was the fool that entered my chambers and left the breakfast?!” Hades roared in anger. Normally, he wouldn't have been so upset, but today his mood was particularly foul. He hadn’t slept, and the pool incident from that morning had only worsened it. He didn’t want to be disturbed, especially not in his quarters.

“Sir, we didn’t—” the god’s two lackeys stammered.

“It was me.” Erianthe cut them off. For a brief moment, Hades calmed down at the sight of her, but he quickly grew angry again.

“Eri, Eri, Eri. It's your first day, and you’ve already made me angry.” Although he tried to sound calm, the red flames flickering around him betrayed his temper.
“I thought it would be a nice gesture…” she replied.

“You thought? Well, you thought wrong, dear, because one of the main rules around here is that you never enter my chambers, EVER!” Hades shouted, his fury growing. The imps grabbed Eri by the arm and hid under the table as the god scorched part of the throne room in his rage.

Once they sensed that Hades had calmed down, they crawled out of their hiding spot. Pain and Panic were used to this, but Eri was left shocked and nearly terrified. She looked around at the destruction Hades had caused. “Great, cleaning the underworld will be a real nightmare,” she thought, seeing the charred remains of the room. At that moment, she realized that if it hadn’t been for the two little imps, she probably would have been burned by those flames.

Eri glanced at Hades. He was breathing deeply, trying to fully calm down. She didn't know when she had started trembling, but she wasn’t about to let that idiot see her cry out of fear.

The god noticed how frightened she was. It didn’t bother him; after all, that’s who he was—strict about his rules. He didn’t care if he had almost made her cry. “Yeah, right,” said a small voice in Hades' head.

“Look, sweetheart, don’t ever come near my chambers again, got it? And from tomorrow onwards, you're making my breakfast every day. I want everything you made today to be the same, but ask the cook where to leave it. And today, I want this throne room to be spotless. I don’t care how long it takes, but get it done. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered weakly.

“Good, well, what are you waiting for? Get to work!” he ordered. And with that, he left the room, not without hearing the soft sobs of his subordinate as he did. It made him feel a pang in his chest. He paused and took a deep breath—no mortal was going to soften him.

For Erianthe, the day felt endless. She didn’t even stop for lunch. After Pain and Panic apologized for the prank they had pulled, she assured them she didn’t hold it against them, but she spent the day avoiding everyone, especially the king of the Underworld.

By the time her shift was over, she barely made it to the baths before they closed. She decided that this late hour was the best time to bathe without anyone around, especially after a long day spent covered in sweat, soot, and dust. Once she was clean, she returned to her room, though she barely remembered how she even made it to bed. The next thing she knew, she woke up between the sheets the following morning.

During that day, the god of the dead couldn’t shake the image of the girl’s tearful face, even as he spent the whole day signing paperwork from over a decade ago. “Maybe I was too harsh,” he thought, but he knew he had to be tough if he wanted respect.

The next morning, he realized he had indeed been too harsh when his breakfast arrived—with no good morning note. At that moment, Hades knew that another person had come to hate him—or worse, that he was seen as a heartless monster.

Chapter Text

Erianthe had been in the underworld for a week and had already set up a routine: she would wake up, get dressed, go to the cafeterium, and make breakfast for both herself and Hades. She would eat with Pain and Panic, clean the same areas over and over again because of the dammed Lord of the Dead, have dinner with the little demons, and finally go to bed.

Since that first day’s incident, Hercules' daughter has tried to avoid that lord of the underworld, and she's mostly succeeded—except when he had to accompany her to clean restricted areas. Fortunately, that week, her task was only to clean Hades’ private baths.

If the public baths had amazed her, the god’s private baths were truly spectacular: the bath area was carved into the rock with water cascading from above, creating the illusion of multiple waterfalls throughout the room. There was also a private massage area, and the pool itself was enormous, much like the employees’ pool, with both an indoor and outdoor section offering views of the underworld. As in the public baths, everything was crafted from black marble, and the ceiling was covered in luminescent stalactites. They were indeed fit for a king.

Hercules’ daughter was focused on her task, intent on scrubbing the bathroom floors until they gleamed and ignoring the god, who had created a makeshift office for himself with his powers. He seemed to be reading several scrolls and appeared “absorbed,” yet she sensed he was watching her from time to time. She knew this because she felt his gaze on her, and she had caught his reflection in the marble, his eyes not on the documents but on her as she worked.

She tried to brush it off, but who was she kidding? It made her nervous that he was looking at her, especially since he seemed as though, he wanted to say something from time to time. He would clear his throat, as though he were about to speak, yet nothing ever came.

Hades was losing his mind. That damned mortal was avoiding him. Ever since he’d lost his temper on her first day, she had barely spoken to him and went out of her way to avoid being alone with him in the same room. He knew he’d gone too far, especially after finding out it was all a prank by his stupid subordinates, who had paid with several rounds of torture sessions.

An inner voice urged him to apologize. “No way. A god never apologizes, especially not the lord of the dead,” he thought, watching her scrub the floors of the baths. The silence was torturing him, especially since he missed talking to her. At this admission, the king of the underworld shook his head: “What a ridiculous idea. That girl is here to be tormented for eternity, nothing more. The other day wasn’t a big deal…”

The truth was, the girl worked hard, and the palace gleamed like it had in the past, and now even some little demons had been set to work on repairing that troublesome hole in the door of the throne room.

He looked at her, and, in truth, he was dying to talk to her, to know more about her, to learn her tastes—all of it. But it was only so he could then use it to blackmail her and have her wrapped around his finger, of course. “You're fooling yourself,” that voice repeated over and over again.

He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and:

“Lord Hades, sir, a new group has just arrived from Thebes. They’re requesting you at the dock for new arrivals,” Ajax reported.

Hades had to resist incinerating the skeleton right there, but he managed to keep his cool and nodded. “That bag of bones will pay for this. I’ll order him to give me massages for an entire month,” the god thought, until he realized that Ajax had mentioned a group from Thebes.

He looked at Eri, who had suddenly gone still, as if frozen in place. “Damn, I hope she doesn’t start crying.” But he watched as the girl turned, her expression completely neutral, not showing a hint of emotion. Still, in her eyes, he could see that those words had struck her.

“Oh! Eri, when you’re finished with the lord’s baths, could you also clean the employee baths?” Ajax asked, oblivious to the situation.

“Of course, no problem. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Eri, go and clean the public baths,” Hades interrupted her. It was better for him to be at the dock to greet the new souls.

She looked at the lord of the dead, surprised, as she hadn’t yet finished cleaning his baths, but she knew better than to contradict him. She didn’t want to see him flare up again. So, she simply nodded, gathered her things, and left with Ajax to the employee baths.

Hades disappeared and reappeared at the dock for new arrivals. The entire group bore signs of burns. Just like most of the recent arrivals from Thebes, “how odd,” thought the god. “It is possible that they were being burned alive.”

That day felt especially long for the god of the dead. In the end, the group of new arrivals was larger than he’d expected, so, exhausted, he retreated to his private bath to relax. He could always calm down in those waters—or at least stop overthinking things, particularly about a certain orange-haired brat who kept popping up in his thoughts. He swam to the edge of the pool to admire the view of his kingdom. Furthermore, he conjured up a martini with a worm and started to drink. Peace was precisely what he needed.

“Eri! Come play with us, come on,” he heard the familiar voice of Pain.

“Yeah, yeah, come with us! We know you draw really well, but put it aside for a bit and come on,” Panic chimed in.

…1 hour earlier…

That day was equally long for Hercules’ daughter. Ajax’s words from that morning echoed in her head: the newly arrived souls from Thebes. How many more people have to die in Thebes? Eri wondered. She wanted to keep fighting, to go back home to her usual life where she could be with her family and friends, with the children of the revolution, but now she was trapped.

She had been sitting at a table in the cafeterium for a while, pushing the food on her plate around absentmindedly. Likewise, she didn’t have much appetite, and her gaze was fixed on a single point on the table. Pain and Panic noticed she seemed down, so they approached her to talk.

“Eri! Don’t you think you’ve mixed that salad enough?” Pain asked her.

Immediately, she stopped stirring her food and looked at the two little devils, who were watching her with concern. From what they knew of Meg’s daughter, it was unusual to see her so downcast. In truth, she had surprised them. She was considerate, kind, and respectful, and honestly, she was fun and interesting to be around.

“Oh! Sorry, sometimes I'm a bit clueless! I got lost in thought.” Eri tried to cover up.

The imps exchanged a skeptical glance, not entirely convinced by her excuse, but they didn’t want to push her. However, they did try to cheer her up.

“You seem a bit stressed. It would be best if you took a bath later,” suggested Pain.

“Yeah, we’ll go too,” added Panic.

Hearing this, Eri turned bright red. She usually takes her bath at the last minute to avoid anyone seeing her naked. Hades’ two subordinates noticed her blushing and soon realized why. If they all went together, they’d see her completely naked.

“You know, we have a solution, so you won’t feel shy about bathing with us,” said Pain, making a black bathing suit appear.

“That’s great! Thanks. This will definitely make it less embarrassing to bathe,” Eri exclaimed.

“So, you’re coming then?” Panic asked.

“Alright, fine. I’ll join, but, just so you know, a bath isn’t the most relaxing thing for me when I’m stressed.”

“No? Then what helps you relax?”

“Drawing.”

“Drawing?”

“Yes, I love drawing.”

The two devils looked at Meg’s daughter with an expression that said, What an odd girl, but they decided to give it a go and summoned a few scrolls and charcoal so she could draw.

“Draw something for us!” Pain requested.

Erianthe got to work and sketched portraits of both Pain and Panic. Hades' two minions were blown away when they saw the drawings; they were remarkably well-done. The girl was genuinely talented. They finished dinner and chatted for a bit before heading to the baths. The little devils promised not to peek while she soaped up. Then, just before getting into the pool, Eri put on her swimsuit, though she still felt like drawing—and she knew exactly what she wanted to capture: the view of the Underworld.

Luckily, she had a scrap of parchment left, though Panic assured her that she could always ask him for more drawing supplies whenever she needed them. So, she carefully took the parchment and charcoal and swam, holding everything cautiously above the water, over to the pool's edge, which fortunately had a wide enough ledge for her to draw. She was so focused on her sketch that she didn’t notice that a certain Lord of the Dead was watching her.

Hades nearly choked when he spotted her, and not because he thought she was naked—he was actually relieved to see her wearing a swimsuit. Memo to me: ask those idiots where she got that swimsuit, he thought—but rather because he hadn’t expected to find her here, especially while he was taking a relaxing bath to clear his mind of her.

From what he observed, the brat was drawing. He’d already noticed that she drew well—he’d seen a sketch in her room—but it also seemed she enjoyed art and architecture. She was fascinated with everything she saw in the underworld, even if it wasn’t the typical art seen above ground.

His minions appeared to be trying to coax her into playing whatever game they were involved in, but she was so distracted that she didn’t notice when one of them threw a ball at her. This hit her on the head. Caught off guard, she flinched, and, unfortunately, the parchment slipped from her grip and flew toward the River Styx.

“Damn! My drawing, it was almost finished,” Eri yelled, spinning around to glare daggers at the two little devils, looking for the culprit who had thrown the ball.

“Sorry, Eri!”

“We didn’t mean for you to lose the drawing like that. This is your fault, Pain!”

“Me? It was you, Panic!”

Their squabble made Erianthe giggle. Those two reminded her of her little brother, but she thought, Oh, I’ll teach them a lesson. She slipped underwater silently and let them continue arguing. Pain and Panic kept blaming each other, oblivious to the fact that someone was sneaking up on them from below.

“Huh? Where’d Eri go?” asked Pain, noticing she’d disappeared from the pool.

“Do you think she jumped into the River Styx for her drawing?” Panic replied nervously.

Hades' minions had no idea what to do, but if she’d actually dived into the abyss, for what they've done, would she really do that? they wondered, their minds already anticipating a punishment from their boss that would last through eternity.

Suddenly, Erianthe appeared behind the little devils, her hair down over her face, and shouted, “I’m the monster of the public baths!”

She put on her deepest, most guttural voice and grabbed both devils by their tails, saying, “If you scare me again, I’ll drown you in the pool like Nemeris!”

Hades was watching from the upper pool, and he had to suppress a laugh when he saw Pain and Panic’s faces as Eri appeared behind them. A monster, huh? She’s far too cute to be a monster, the god thought to himself.

“Nemeris? Who’s that?”

“There’s a forest near Thebes that’s best avoided—not just because of the monsters that live there, but because they say spirits haunt it. And one of those spirits lives in the lake. They say the spirit is that of a beautiful woman who calls to you by name, and then…”

“And then what happens?”

“She drags you to the bottom of the lake to drown you!”

“No way. Could it be a mermaid?”

“Who knows, but many have died in that forest, especially near that lake.”

“That’s creepy! You mortals believe in such strange, spooky things,” said Pain.

“Maybe, but they’re ancient legends, passed down through generations. Blame the mortals who started the rumors.”

“And blame the mortals who believe them.”

“Touché,” Eri admitted, as she herself did believe in such things.

“Now I don’t feel like playing anymore; should we call it a day?”

“It’s probably for the best; we have work tomorrow,” Eri agreed, heading over to retrieve the charcoal she had left at the pool’s edge, thankful it hadn’t fallen in.

“Erianthe…”

She froze. Someone was calling her. “Who’s there?” she wondered, looking around. Pain and Panic were busy leaving the pool, talking among themselves, and there was no one else in sight.

“Erianthe…”

She heard the voice again. This time, she realized it was coming from the river Styx. Suddenly nervous, she picked up the charcoal and hurried away, not wanting to be alone.

Hades watched, concerned, noticing the way her face had turned pale, as if she’d seen or heard something unsettling. “I’ll need to keep an eye on her; she might have heard one of the souls,” thought the lord of the underworld, knowing from experience how deceitful many of the souls in his realm could be.

Though she’d been in the Underworld for a week and had already established a routine, ever since that day at the pool, Eri couldn’t stop hearing her name at night.

She felt like she was losing her mind. “Who keeps calling me?” she wondered, both intrigued and terrified. “And why?” After several nights of poor sleep, Hercules’ daughter decided she had to find out who it was.

She was scared, especially since she wasn’t armed, only in her pajamas. She couldn’t defend herself if she had to, but even so, she doubted she could stand up to any resident of the Styx.

“Erianthe…”

At first, it was barely a whisper.

“Erianthe!”

Then it grew louder.

“ERIANTHE!”

She reached the place, one of the banks of the river, a broad, smooth estuary. There, she could hear the voice clearly calling her name, but no one was there—no sign of a soul.

Just at the edge of the shore, she noticed something: it looked like a scroll. “Could it be?” she thought, her heart racing. She moved closer and saw it—the drawing she had lost the other day. It was there, practically untouched. She bent down to pick it up when, suddenly, a hand reached out from the river. A soul was grabbing her wrist.

“Ah!” Eri screamed, quickly jerking back to keep herself from being dragged into the river.

Meanwhile, in the lord of the dead's quarters, Hades awoke with a start. Something was disturbing the souls, and… had he heard a scream?

Back at the River Styx's edge, Eri couldn’t believe it—there was a soul at the shore, staring at her.

“Are you Erianthe? The artist behind this drawing?” the soul asked.

“Uh… me? Yes, but how—?”

“You signed the drawing, kid,” replied the soul.

“Damn, that’s right. I signed the stupid thing,” she thought, glancing at it and spotting her name at the bottom.

“Hey! Help me out, would you?” The soul was almost out of the river but needed a final pull to free himself. Eri hesitated. She was strictly forbidden from freeing souls from the river, especially after her earlier encounter upon arriving in the Underworld. Still, something told her he wasn’t dangerous.

She stepped forward and held out her hand. A deep chill shot through her as she felt the soul’s touch, but she pulled until he was fully out.

“Thank you! You're very kind. Finally, I can stretch my legs. My name’s Dorien—at least, it was while I was alive.”

“N-nice to meet you, Dorien.”

“You have a lot of talent, Erianthe! I was thrilled when I saw your drawing; you captured the essence of the underworld perfectly.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Of course. I’m a musician and patron of the arts—or I was, anyway. I know talent when I see it, and you, young lady, are bursting with it!”

Erianthe was thrilled—finally, someone was praising her drawings! Even if it was a dead man, it gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, she could one day fulfill her dream. No, she reminded herself, that was impossible. She was trapped in the Underworld, and above ground, there was still a war raging.

“Thank you for your kind words, but now I work here, cleaning. My art is only a hobby…”

“No, no, no. I refuse to let your art stay just a hobby! Don’t you have dreams?”

“Of course I do, but I have to accept my fate. Dreams are beautiful, but they’re not always realistic with the world around us. We’re still at war, Dorien.”

“And you’re just going to give up? I may not be alive anymore, but I never stopped chasing my dreams, and neither did my band. Right, fellas? What do you say? Let’s rock this place!”

The soul helped bring up more souls, and before long, Eri was surrounded by spirits. “Hades is going to kill me,” she thought.

Dorien, along with his band, began to sing a song:

Life is never easy, baby,
You never know what might come your way.
But giving up isn’t an option.

I lived my life to the fullest,
looking forward,
never looking back.

The souls began to dance and sing along with the band.

Everyone is in pursuit of happiness.
Though not everything that glitters is gold,
don’t worry.
You gave it a shot. It'll be alright.

Tell me about your dreams,
tell me what makes you happy.
It doesn’t matter if you fall,
just get back up again.

Come on, girl.
You only live once!
Don’t let your dreams slip away.

Now the souls were encouraging her to dance and sing along, and truly, Eri felt free and happy to let herself go this way. “How long had it been since she last danced and sang?”

What no one noticed was that a certain lord of the dead had arrived at the scene, angry to see souls had escaped the river and were in the middle of a huge party. “Who released the souls?” And there she was. He saw Erianthe dancing and singing, smiling and shining.

Everyone is in pursuit of happiness.
Though not everything that glitters is gold,
don’t worry.
You gave it a shot. It'll be alright.

My dream is easy.
But I’d love to create
Beautiful artworks.
And share them with the world!

“That’s the way to sing it, baby! Never stop shining, Erianthe!” exclaimed Dorien.

Hades stood there, stunned. The little brat had caused all of this, and while her dance was captivating and her voice enchanting, she had crossed the line and broken one of the Underworld’s golden rules: never let souls out of the River Styx.

“ERIANTHE!”

The daughter of Hercules turned to see the god. “Oh no, Hades,” she thought. And there, in front of her, stood the god of the dead, furious beyond measure.

Chapter Text

Erianthe had messed up. Because of her careless behavior, she was now confined to her room, only allowed out to eat, work, and bathe—nothing more.

She had to be accompanied by Pain or Panic whenever she left the room, especially when she had to do her chores. Once the tasks were done, they ate together and bathed, and finally, they locked her back in her room, where she remained without being able to leave. She had truly become a prisoner in the realm of the dead.

She remembered that night so clearly; in fact, she still shuddered at the memory of when the god of the dead appeared, and she understood why Hades was the most feared of all gods.

…The night of the incident…

Everyone there stared at the Lord of the Dead, who stood directly before Erianthe. His expression said it all: he was furious—so furious it seemed as if he might incinerate everyone present, especially Eri, who had broken the rules of the Underworld.

Erianthe knew she hadn’t acted wisely. She’d helped a soul to escape from the river Styx and, even more, had let other souls join a huge party. But she didn’t regret it. Those souls looked so “alive”—they were enjoying themselves, dancing, and singing. Dorien and his band were excellent performers, singing with energy and joy about life and about fighting for one’s dreams until the end, without giving up.

To be honest, Erianthe envied them. She’d fought for her family and friends, for her people, but she had never been allowed to think about herself. She didn't want to be selfish, but deep down, she realized she held back because she was a coward.

Hades looked at her. He didn’t shoot her down with his fire, but he didn’t hesitate to take action against her.

“What do you think you’re doing? Huh? Souls should NEVER leave the river without permission—didn’t you understand that on your very first day?”

“I, I…”

“You WHAT? I should throw you into Tartarus right now!”

“It was my fault, sir,” Dorien replied.

“Oh? And who are you?”

“Dorien, sir. Apologies for what happened, but this girl has so much talent. Did you see her—?”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT HER DRAWINGS! OR IF SHE HAS TALENT! SHE IS MY SUBORDINATE!” Hades interrupted furiously. He noticed the piece of parchment that remained in the hands of Meg’s daughter. Grabbing it, he incinerated it in front of everyone. “No more drawings, kid.”

The souls looked at the god, terrified, as Hades unleashed his full power in the blink of an eye, sending every soul back into the river Styx. Now, only the god and the mortal girl were left. Erianthe, very nervous, looked at Hades with fear, uncertain of what punishment awaited her.

With a snap, Hades transported both of them to the entrance of Erianthe’s room.

“Alright. You caused this, young lady. I tried to be generous with you, but remember, NEVER disobey a god. I won’t send you to Tartarus, but from now on, you may not leave your room without permission. Understood?”

Eri looked at him and nodded slightly. Hades opened the door to her room, indicating that she should enter. Before leaving, the lord of the dead added:
“One more infraction, and I’ll lock you in Tartarus for all eternity.” And with that, he closed the door.

The girl couldn’t hold it in anymore and began to cry. “How stupid!” she thought, wondering how she could have even imagined for a moment that she was still allowed to dream.

Since the night of the incident, it appeared that the girl's usual light had disappeared. Pain and Panic tried to speak with her to cheer her up, but nothing worked. She barely spoke to them and only completed her duties without complaint. The two imps missed the old Erianthe.

Hades, on the other hand, hadn't faced Eri since the incident, but occasionally, he spied on her, noticing how she moved through the underworld like a lost soul. Once again, a voice inside him whispered that he should speak with her, but he wasn’t about to lower himself, nor would he regret his decision.

Pulling souls out of the river was dangerous; it was lucky none had dragged the mortal into the river, as they’d tried to do with him hundreds of times. Yet, once, a group of souls slipped away, making it back to the world of the living. News of this incident eventually reached Zeus, who reproached him, questioning how hard it could be to keep the souls in line. As a result, he made fun of him in the council of gods. The other gods mocked him. If there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate, it was having his work called into question. And he wasn’t about to let anyone, especially his nephew’s daughter, jeopardize his duties.

He was seated in the throne room. The hole had been repaired, the Underworld was back to how it had been, the board had been fixed, and everything gleamed, spotless and pristine. So why did he feel like something was missing?

“You’ve grown fond of her. Admit it,” an annoying voice inside him said.

“Damn! Since when did I get so sentimental? Or worse, since when do I have a moral sense?” muttered the god of the dead to himself. He was on the verge of a headache.

He hadn’t noticed that Panic had entered the throne room.

“Sir, I’ve brought you the weekly report of new arrivals. We have an excess of souls on the east side of the river. We should send more of them to the vortex. What do you think?” informed the little demon.

“It’s already full? This war’s turning out to be very efficient. Fine, that sounds like a good idea. By the way, where’s Pain?”

“With Erianthe. Today, she’s assigned to clean the area by Cerberus, sir.”

“WHAT? By Cerberus? You’ve got him tied up, right? I don’t want to lose E— my cleaning personnel,” Hades corrected himself.

“Yes, no worries. He’s tied up. But did you know Cerberus gets along well with Eri? It’s not her first time there; she even plays with him.”

“Really? That damn dog… always gets attached to the wrong people.”

“Sir, if you’re worried about Eri, why not just talk to her?”

“Me? Worried about that mortal? Not in a million years, and don’t even think about suggesting it again,” Hades said, sounding somewhat agitated.

“My apologies, sir! This shift of souls might be a good opportunity to tidy up the area around the vortex, don't you think?” Panic added.

Panic had an idea. He was aware of the incident with the souls and how much Hades likes to be strict with his rules, but the situation between his boss and Eri had to come to an end. He couldn’t stand seeing her so apathetic anymore, especially since he felt some affection for her. And he didn’t want his boss on the verge of exploding either—who knew when he’d get scorched over it? So if there was a way to get them together, maybe they’d finally talk.

“Hmm, yes, I think it’s about time to check on that area. I’ll transfer some souls to the vortex this afternoon, and tomorrow I’ll take the girl to clean up that section.”
“Excellent, sir.” And with that, Panic vanished.

Hades was left deep in thought. “So, the brat’s with Cerberus. I don’t believe it—yet another rule is broken. Damn that mortal!”

Just like Panic, he disappeared and reappeared near Cerberus’s domain, where he saw Erianthe cleaning while his minions were trying to calm the dog.

He hid behind a pillar and observed. It seemed that Eri was minding her own business and not breaking the rule about not getting too close to the dog. But his minions never had a way with Cerberus, even with his favorite toy: a red ball.

“Easy, boy! Don’t bite me! Eri, help us!”

“Guys, you know I really shouldn't.”

“Pretty please?” They looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.

“All right… Cerby! Sit, boy, behave,” Erianthe called to him. Immediately, the dog calmed down and sat as she instructed. “That’s better! Good boy.” One of his heads was lowered for petting, while another gave her a large lick. “Cerby! Don’t do that! Now I’ll stink all day,” she said with mild annoyance but a slight smile.

“I can’t believe Cerberus actually listens to her,” said Pain.

“Yeah, he NEVER listens to us, and he certainly doesn’t let us pet him,” Panic replied.

“You just have to be friendly. You know that. Let me finish up here. Otherwise, I will be behind on my work.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Hades’ two minions said it in unison. Of course, Cerberus behaves, because she's got a pretty face, they thought, sneaking glances at each other.
Hades was shocked. Cerberus NEVER behaved, and with that mortal, he was actually calm? It had to be a joke, but it made sense. There was something special about that girl. “Hades, stop it! She’s only a mortal.” And with that thought, the god vanished, returning to his usual work.

“Panic, you managed to get the boss to take Eri to one of the forbidden areas to clean,” whispered Pain.

“Yes, tomorrow he’ll take her to the vortex for cleaning,” Panic replied in a whisper. Hades was going to be alone with Eri. Now they just needed to come up with something to nudge the two into talking. Perfect—what could possibly go wrong?

Erianthe was nervous. Hades was taking her to the vortex of souls to clean. She didn’t know if that area was dirty, since she had never been there, but it unsettled her—she knew that her father had once descended into that very place searching for her mother’s soul. Being alone with the god made her even more anxious. Since the night of the incident, they hadn’t spoken or met in any place.

Hades, on his part, was also uneasy. He realized he’d be alone with the girl and, moreover, would be returning to the vortex of souls. He hadn’t set foot in that place since he left it a couple of weeks ago, and just yesterday, he had drained a significant amount of his power, channeling numerous souls to the vortex. This meant he wouldn’t be able to use his powers if anything went wrong.

The Lord of the Dead and the daughter of Hercules made their way to the vortex in complete silence. Hades glanced at the girl. They had met in the throne room, and she had only greeted him politely. He had tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but she barely acknowledged it.

“Welcome to the vortex! See, the Underworld really is a small world, isn’t it?” He tried again, but she just gave him a look that said, Yes, I can see there are many souls here. Resigned, Hades told her she only needed to sweep, so it should, in theory, be quick.

Erianthe got to work, soon sweeping everything thoroughly until she reached the edge of the vortex. At that moment, she had to stop. Seeing all those souls in the dark waters and hearing their laments, she couldn’t help but think that her mother had once been down there and, possibly, her father too, right where she now stood. Mom, Eri thought, missing her intensely. She wanted to see her and hug her again.

Hades noticed that the girl was at the edge, looking into the vortex. Damn, she’s right on the edge—if she falls, she'd be killed, thought the god, concerned. Although he’d planned to keep his distance from the vortex's abyss, he stepped closer to see why the stubborn mortal seemed frozen there, as if she’d suddenly put down roots.

“Hey, Erianthe, it’s better if you don’t just stand there. If you’re done, let’s go. It’s not safe here,” Hades said. He saw she was staring intently into the vortex, her face showing a mix of pain and sadness. Could she be thinking about?

Meanwhile, the two minions, who were at the entrance to the vortex cavern, were still debating what to do to get those two to talk and resolve things.

“Hey, I just thought of something. What if Erianthe has a ‘little accident,’ and Hades has to help her? They’d probably start talking,” suggested the purple imp.

“Isn’t that a bit extreme? She could fall into the vortex abyss! If that happens, Hades would most likely use us as targets for his fireball practice!” replied the green imp nervously.

“Well, I can’t think of anything else,” said Pain, who was holding Cerberus’s ball. They’d just taken the Underworld dog out for a walk, and Pain still had his favorite toy with him.

Unable to agree on a plan, they didn’t realize that both the god and the girl were on the edge of the vortex—or that Pain had accidentally dropped Cerberus’s ball, which was now rolling suspiciously toward the vortex.

There, on the edge of the abyss, Hades and Erianthe stood together. Eri realized that the god was speaking to her, but she hadn’t been paying attention. What does he want now? She wondered, glancing at him, only to find him suddenly silent.

She noticed that he was staring into the vortex of souls, his face twisted with an expression of horror, as if the situation terrified him. What’s wrong with him?

“Hades, are you alright?” Eri asked, somewhat concerned, since this wasn’t typical behavior for the Lord of the Dead.

The god didn’t respond. Suddenly, memories from those seventeen long years trapped in that damned place hit him like a slap to the face. Those memories still haunted him, and each night, he was plagued by nightmares of these waters, of souls pleading, cursing him as they were doing right now.

Let us out!

Have mercy, Hades!

Help us!

Damn you, Hades!

Erianthe didn’t know what to do. She was about to grab him by the arm and pull him away from the edge, sensing something wasn’t right, when she felt something bump against her foot. She looked down and saw Cerberus’s ball. What the heck is this doing here? She thought. She crouched down to pick it up and then noticed something alarming—a crack in the stone.

“HADES! We have to leave now! This ledge isn’t stable. It’s cracking!” Erianthe shouted, trying to get the god to react. But she wasn’t fast enough—the rock split, and both of them began to fall into the abyss.

The daughter of Greece’s most famous hero reacted quickly, grabbing the god’s arm and lunging forward, but most of the ledge collapsed. With one hand, she clung to what remained of the rocky outcrop, while with the other, she held tightly onto the god. He was incredibly heavy, and she wasn’t going to last long. Desperately, she wrapped her legs around the god’s torso to reinforce her grip.

“Help! Pain, Panic, I know you’re there!” Eri yelled desperately. She looked at Hades, who was starting to come back to his senses. “Don’t move, or we’ll both fall!”
“What the hell happened?” he asked, terrified. He didn’t want to fall back into the vortex.

“Use your powers, Hades! If you don’t, we’re going to fall,” Eri pleaded. Hades saw the fear in her eyes. Damn it, my powers. I can’t use my powers!

Just then, the two minions arrived, stunned by the scene before them.

“What should we do?” asked Pain.

“Get us out of here!” Eri yelled again.

“We don’t have enough strength.” Panic replied nervously.

“What? Well, never mind. Listen, can you make some ropes appear? If so, tie one around my waist and secure the other end to that sturdy-looking rock over there.” They quickly conjured the ropes and fastened one around her just in time. Eri’s hand, which had been gripping the edge, slipped, and a deep cut opened up on her palm.

“Ah!” she cried in pain. Now, both the Lord of the Dead and Eri were dangling over the vortex, suspended only by the rope holding them. “Hold on tight to me. I can feel you slipping, Hades.”

Without hesitation, Hades wrapped his arms around her; he had no desire to end up in the waters of the vortex. He noticed the blood seeping from her injured hand. If they didn’t do something soon, they were both going to fall.

“Please think about using your powers, Hades. I don’t think this rope will hold much longer,” Eri pleaded.

“I am unable to,” Hades replied, resigning. “Yesterday, I used up a large part of my power, so I can’t just teleport us somewhere else.” He didn’t understand why his power had drained so quickly or why it hadn’t regenerated. Something was off, and now here he was, clinging to his nemesis’s daughter to avoid falling into those waters that had haunted his nightmares.

Holding her, he could feel her warmth, her rapid breathing, and the frantic beating of her heart. Her head rested against his chest. Wait, her chest? He suddenly realized how close he was to her chest. Hades, don’t be a creep. Don’t think about it, he scolded himself, though a sly voice whispered, They aren’t exactly small…

“You can’t use your powers? So now what are we supposed to do?”

Hades looked at her. He knew there was one option—one that would save her, but not him. If she fell, she’d die, and although he couldn’t explain why, he didn’t want that. Damn it, why can’t I bear to see her dead? He thought, realizing he might have some shred of a conscience.

“Let me go,” he said. “If you do, you’ll have a better chance. If I were in your place, I’d do it. You could even escape the underworld.”

Erianthe was stunned. What? But why would he want me to save myself? He hates me. He doesn’t have a good side, does he? She looked into his eyes and saw exhaustion, frustration, and anger, but also suffering and loneliness. A loneliness she knew all too well.

Erianthe made up her mind.

“I’m not letting you go,” she replied, resolutely.

“What do you mean, you won’t? Are you an idiot? This is your best chance, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know,” she answered. “But I belong here now; I signed a contract, and I owe my loyalty to the Underworld and to the god of the dead. Let me quote: By signing this contract, you are bound to serve the glorious god of the dead, Hades, who will be your master and lord for all eternity.” Part of her was bluffing; she wasn’t staying because of that ridiculous contract, but because she felt the King of the Underworld deserved a second chance.

Hades looked at her, barely believing what he was hearing. This girl is either incredibly naive, incredibly foolish, both, or just too good-hearted.

“Do what you want, kid. But for the record, I think it’s a stupid idea.”

“Probably because I’m a fool.” She glanced up and saw Cerberus’s ball near the edge. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “Guys, I have an idea. Get Cerberus over here!”

“WHAT?” everyone shouted.

“He’s strong enough to pull us both up! Quickly, guys, make him come over. His ball is right there—use it!” Hades had to admit that the girl was smart and determined. She didn't give up easily.

The imps sprang into action, appearing where the Underworld’s hound lay sleeping. They woke him up, saying:

“Cerby, want to play?”

“Come on, Cerby, let’s play with the ball.”

The dog ignored them until Panic muttered, “Cerby, Eri wants to play with you.”

The hound perked up, barking enthusiastically at the mention of her name. Satisfied, Hades’ two minions dashed back toward the vortex.

Meanwhile, Erianthe was busy with the other rope. She tied one end to her waist and prepared a loop at the other.

“What are you doing?” the god asked, watching her expertly tie knots.

“I’m making a loop. When Cerberus gets here, I’ll toss the rope onto his tail. Then we can throw him the ball, and he’ll be strong enough to pull us out with no problem.”

“And you think that knot will hold?”

“Of course! What do you take me for? I’m a pro at knots and climbing. Plus, I used to work in a quarry, remember? I know what I’m doing.”

“Alright, knot expert. I won’t argue with you on this,” the god replied, unconvinced but left with no choice but to watch and see.

Suddenly, they heard Panic and Pain shouting, along with Cerberus’s bark. The two grinned as the giant dog appeared.

“Cerby, good boy! Do you want to play? Yes, of course, you do! Look, Panic has your ball. Go get it,” Eri called out. The dog turned around, and she quickly tossed the rope onto his tail. “Yes! I got it on the first try.” she said, sticking her tongue out playfully at Hades.

“Pfff, that was pure luck. Don't get too excited.”

“Party pooper.” They immediately felt the strong pull of the dog tugging them upward. To avoid being dragged across half the Underworld, Erianthe called to Panic to make a dagger appear so she could cut the rope once they were safely up.

Cerberus, thrilled, took off running, yanking both god and mortal higher than they expected. Realizing they were going to hit the vortex’s entrance if she didn’t act quickly, Eri cut the rope. Hades, noting they were still a few meters above the ground, calculated that he’d be fine, being a god and all. But Eri wouldn’t have the same resilience—she could get seriously hurt. So, he held her tightly, cushioning their fall with his body.

“Hades! Why did you do that?” Eri asked, concern on her face.

“Teamwork,” the god replied with a grin.

At that, the girl laughed. For someone as ill-tempered, twisted, and selfish as he was. He was pretty funny.

Hades noticed Erianthe laughing and found himself chuckling, too. In the end, this girl's ridiculous plan had worked, and here they were, safe and sound.

“We did it! We’re not dead!” Eri shouted. Hades gave her a look that said, I wasn’t going to die, so she amended, “Fine, you win! I’m not dead, and you didn’t end up trapped again! See? I’ve got your back, too!” Her triumphant shouts likely echoed throughout the entire Underworld, but the strain and exhaustion from the ordeal suddenly took their toll, and she fainted.

“ERIANTHE!” was the last thing she heard before everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Her entire body felt heavy. She was exhausted. She opened her eyes and immediately recognized the ceiling of her room. Her room—how strange it sounded to say that this room in the underworld was now her room.

She tried to sit up when she noticed a couple of weights on the bed, and saw that Pain and Panic were sleeping by her legs, so she slowly shifted to avoid disturbing or waking them.

The girl almost let out a scream when she realized that, right next to the bed, sitting on a kind of throne, was the lord of the dead himself. But, like the two little demons, he was asleep; he looked peaceful. Even though he had an intimidating appearance, seeing him this way made it seem like he had never harmed a soul. Even though it seemed like he was a good guy.

She managed to sit up completely and lean against the wall. She noticed her left hand was bandaged. Erianthe remembered that she had cut it on the rock. Fortunately, it didn’t hurt much. She sighed, realizing she was still alive, though she could have ended up in the vortex's waters and died.

At that moment, she thought of her family. The drawing of her family and the medallion caught her eye as she surveyed her bedside table, so she picked them up. She wanted to see them and be with them again. She held the objects to her chest, as if she were hugging them, and couldn’t help but get emotional thinking about them, thinking she would never see them again. A few tears slipped down her cheeks.

“What a crybaby I am,” Eri thought.

“If you keep crushing that scroll, you’re going to end up tearing it. And you’re crying again? Are you a drama queen?”

The girl jumped. She hadn’t expected Hades to be awake, watching her with a bored expression, his head resting on one hand.

“Damn it, Hades! You scared me —don't do that again! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Eri was startled. Her expression had instantly shifted from teary to irritated.

“If you died of a heart attack, I’d be genuinely disappointed,” replied the god with a mocking smile.

“You’re insufferable,” the girl retorted.

“Thank you.” The god kept smiling. He loved how easy she was to get riled up. “She looks so adorable,” he thought to himself, quickly dismissing the idea. Hades, don’t get sappy.

Erianthe looked at him, momentarily speechless. Then she noticed she wasn’t wearing the tunic from earlier that morning but her pajamas. Had Hades undressed her?

The Lord of the Dead, noticing how the girl’s face shifted to one of complete embarrassment, guessed what was likely running through her mind.

“None of us put you in your pajamas. Agapios took care of it; he bandaged your hand and checked that everything was fine. By the way, he mentioned you’re gaining weight — you’re close to reaching your goal.”

“Oh, good…” Eri sighed in relief, though it was still audible to the god’s sharp ears.

“What, did you think I was some kind of pervert?” he asked, exasperated.

Erianthe gave him a look that said, That’s precisely what I was thinking. Though, in truth, she couldn’t quite picture Hades being that type of god. Still, she didn’t know him well enough to trust him completely.

Hades sighed, feeling tired. It was only natural for her not to trust him — it was natural for no one to trust him. He was used to it… though he wished she might give him a chance. He noticed how she still clutched the medallion and squeezed that piece of parchment, which had clearly seen better days.

“Why did you decide to bring that medallion and drawing to the Underworld?” Hades asked without thinking. He had seen them on her bedside table the first day and had been curious.

Eri looked at him in surprise, then smiled slightly. She placed those treasures on her lap, gazing at them nostalgically, for they truly were her treasures.

“One is a promise,” Eri said, holding the medallion in her right hand, “and the other is a memory, something I don’t want to forget.”

Although her hand was bandaged, she managed to hold the parchment firmly, looking at the drawing of her family back when they were still all together.

Hades watched her. He knew these objects didn’t have much material value — well, the medallion was gold and forged by none other than the god of the forge, Hephaestus. But he understood that their true value was sentimental.

“Let me see that drawing.” Even though Hades had seen it before, he wanted to look at it again. Eri hesitantly handed it to him, still remembering what had happened to her last creation.

“I swear, I’m not going to burn it. I just want to take a look.”

As he looked at the parchment once more, he realized the image seemed familiar — it was the same one he’d seen on the tapestry in Meg’s room. He had to admit the girl had real skill, and the soul of that man from the Styx had been right. Erianthe had an undeniable, natural talent.

“Honestly, you draw very well,” the god said.

“Th-thanks, but it’s not one of my best drawings. I made it when I was about ten or eleven,” Eri replied with a faint smile.

“Really? You were drawing like this even back then?” Hades was genuinely surprised; the girl had an impressive talent.

“My latest drawing was much better, but someone burned it.” The god took the hint, knowing he’d been the one who’d destroyed it that night in a fit of anger. His temper was well known. Still, he wanted to see how she’d improved, so he conjured up a set of drawing materials.

“Draw me. Then we’ll see if you’ve gotten any better. What do you say?” Hades challenged her with a teasing smile, daring Meg’s daughter to show her skills.
Erianthe was surprised. She wasn't expecting Hades to be interested in her art, but she jumped at the chance and got to work drawing the deity, who was already posing for the portrait.

She found herself enjoying it. His angular features and his flame-like hair were fascinating, and though she wasn’t used to drawing fire, she felt she’d captured it well.
Hades, for his part, couldn’t stop watching her. She was already beautiful, lighting up every room she entered, but seeing her so focused, pushing her hair back sometimes so it wouldn't get in her way, was utterly mesmerizing. And here she was, in her pajamas with messy hair, yet to him, she was the embodiment of beauty.

He couldn’t help but think of the moment he’d held her at the edge of the vortex, and especially when she’d said, I won’t let go of you or I can have your back, too. No one in centuries had said anything like that to him, and though he’d never admit it, he loved that this girl had. It stirred a pleasant warmth in him. He thought, I'm getting soft, but the feeling was too nice to ignore.

When he closed his eyes, he could still sense the warmth, which became more intense when he carried her to her room. He didn’t know why, but when he’d brought her to her bed, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He wanted to hold her close, to have her near and safe in his arms. It was an unfamiliar, warm feeling mixed with a dangerous possessiveness, a need to protect her like he had against the manticore.

When he opened his eyes again, she was still focused, biting her lip as she added details to his portrait. At that moment, the Lord of the Dead felt his heart skip a beat. Erianthe looked up and smiled.

“There, it’s done. I hope you like it,” she said proudly, handing him the drawing.

The Lord of the Dead was rarely left speechless, but this girl had done just that. She had drawn him exactly as he was, capturing his true essence with an imposing aura—a king, or better yet, a god. Erianthe was, undoubtedly, an artist.

“This is fantastic! That guy from the River Styx was right; you have serious talent. You’d make an amazing artist!” he exclaimed, genuinely enthusiastic.

“Thanks, though it’ll only be a hobby, really,” Eri admitted, looking down.

“Why? You’re superb!”

“For one, if I recall correctly, my new job is keeping the underworld sparkling clean… for eternity,” she replied, giving him a pointed look.

“Touché,” he conceded.

“And two. It’s not what my parents envisioned for my future, or rather, what they had envisioned.”

“Oh? And what did they have planned?”

“To marry me to one of the princes of Thebes—the heir to the throne.” Eri looked down sadly, holding her father’s medallion, while Hades, shocked and angry, processed her words. They wanted to promise their eldest to a prince.

“Dad was always friends with the king of Thebes—not the current one, but the one who went to fight in the war. And he always thought that if he arranged my marriage to someone in royalty, I’d never lack anything and that I’d be protected when he was gone.”

Erianthe’s eyes filled with tears. Though she loved her father dearly, the decision affected her greatly as a child. “They never got to formalize the engagement. The call to arms arrived first.”

Hades watched as she held the medallion, her face hidden, but he could sense the mixture of sadness and frustration, a feeling he understood all too well. His future and destiny had been decided for him after the war with the Titans.

From what he could tell, his nephew wasn’t too different from Zeus in that regard, making decisions without considering the person they affected most.

“Just before the recruitment missive arrived, my dad and I fought. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I said terrible things because I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to choose my destiny. My mother stepped in to defend me, and the two of them ended up arguing. In the end, my dad let it go, but I know that when he returns, he’ll want to bring it up again. Although, now there's a small problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“The prince they wanted me to marry, the eldest, died five years ago. He died along with my paternal grandparents when they burned down our home. It was the worst night of my life.” Erianthe was trembling. Reliving that nightmare and those moments were painful, and Hades didn’t want to see her that way.

The god recognized how much the daughter of his nemesis had suffered—even Meg and her younger son, too. He was surprised that she was opening up to him. He wasn’t one for sentimentality; seeing Eri's true self, her vulnerable side, unsettled him. Likewise, he wasn’t sure how to react, but he let her continue.

“That drawing is a copy of the tapestry that was left after the fire. I made it to remember the good times and to remember my father’s face. I also made drawings of Pegasus, Phil, and my grandparents, but I left those with Zenos. And this medallion—it’s all I have left of my father. Yet, I hate it.”

“You hate that medallion? But it’s all you have left of your father,” Hades replied, puzzled. To him, it seemed like her most prized possession.

“Because it’s linked to Olympus. Not once in almost ten years has any god other than you bothered to help us. I despise being tied to that legacy. In fact, I refuse to connect myself with anything related to Olympus, besides my father.” Eri replied with bitterness.

He could hardly believe it. The king of the underworld had found someone who hated Olympus as much as he did, and it was none other than the granddaughter of Zeus! Perhaps this girl could one day be an ally. Who knows? He was beginning to like her.

“The gods are selfish by nature, and those on Olympus… they’re the worst. So never expect anything from them. Trust me—I know from experience.”
Hades knew what he was talking about. Those gods could be absolutely vile, and that was coming from the worst god of them all.

Erianthe knew she shouldn’t speak that way about the Olympian gods. Her father would probably be disappointed to hear it, but she was genuinely furious with them. They had ignored the prayers of mortals.

At that moment, Hades’s two minions woke up and joyfully rushed toward Eri.

“Erianthe! You’re okay!” exclaimed Pain.

“You worried us when you fainted. Even the boss was worried,” added Panic.

“Thanks for caring, guys.” Eri smiled, glancing at Hades, who had turned red from Panic’s comment. “I’ll fry him later,” the god thought, but seeing Eri’s smile made him let it go. He couldn’t deny it; he had been concerned.

“You had a great idea at the end.”

“Yeah! And your skill with ropes and that knot, perfect on the first try—impressive!”

“Hahaha. Well, it’s natural. I’m an expert; I’ve spent years climbing, crushing rocks and tying all kinds of knots,” she replied proudly.

At that moment, the Lord of the Dead stood up. He made his throne disappear and said, “Alright, you two, let Erianthe rest. Today, you’re staying here to recover, but tomorrow, first thing, I expect you in the throne room,” Hades instructed.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there,” Eri replied softly. When he was serious, that god could be incredibly intimidating, even a little terrifying. She supposed that was why Hades didn’t get along easily with others, but really, his intentions were unclear.

Hades and the two minions left the room, bidding her farewell.

“Get some rest, Eri!” the minions chorused, while Hades simply looked at her.

She quickly fell asleep again.

The following morning, she still felt tired, but she had told Hades that she would come to the throne room, so she dressed and went straight there. She had no desire to anger the god.

When she arrived, he was there, sitting, reading a scroll. Sensing her presence, he set aside what he was reading and looked at her. He noted that she still appeared exhausted, but he was glad she was doing well.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I thought you weren’t going to show,” the king of the underworld teased. Good, Erianthe thought. He’s in a good mood. “Come on, let me see your hand,” Hades said.

“I’m fine, really, it doesn’t hurt much. Seriously, you don’t need to look.”

“Would you stop contradicting me, girl! Come here and let me see that hand of yours.” Eri hurriedly held out her hand, not wanting to irritate the god, who seemed to be in a good mood. Wow, what a temper he has. Is he always like this? she thought.

Resigned, Erianthe offered her hand. The god took it, removing the bandage with his other hand. The cut was healing, but he decided to take advantage of his restored power to finish healing it. Instantly, Eri felt the same warmth as the night he’d healed her in the forest. She shivered at the connection she sensed, noticing how massive his hands looked compared to hers.

“Why is her face red again? Did I use too much power?” Hades wondered but dismissed it as he finished healing her wound.

“All done.”

“Th-thank you.”

“I didn’t call you here just to heal your hand. I wanted to discuss a few things, but you must swear not to disobey me again. Capisci?” Hades looked like he was about to lose his patience again, so Eri nodded quickly.

“I swear I won’t do it again, sir.”

“Good. Now, let’s talk about your punishment. After reviewing what happened at the Styx yesterday, I’m revoking it. You’ll be free to do your work without supervision, except in areas where I’ve told you I’ll accompany you. You’re also free to leave your room whenever you want.”

“Really? Thank you! I—I…”

“Silence! I’m not finished yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll regret this, but I’d like you to redecorate the Underworld. I want you to put that talent of yours to use down here. What do you say, Erianthe? Will you accept?” declared the god of the dead, challenging Hercules’s daughter, who was left speechless.

Chapter Text

Erianthe couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Her? Use her talent to redecorate the underworld. Was he joking?

She looked at the god, who met her gaze with a serious expression, waiting for her response. Alright, he’s not joking, Eri thought.

“I… are you sure?” the young woman asked, uncertain.

“Look, Eri. Believe it or not, I don’t usually lie, especially when I’m proposing a deal that will benefit both of us. It will benefit me because this place needs a makeover, and it’ll benefit you because you will get to do whatever you want—as long as we mutually agree on it. But I’ll let you be creative.” The god was getting a bit heated.

“So, what do you say? Yes or no? I don’t have all day.”

Erianthe reacted with a huge smile.

“Yes, yes, I accept. Of course, I accept,” she replied quickly. The daughter of Hercules was so thrilled that she threw herself at Hades and hugged him.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch me!” The Lord of the Dead hadn’t expected the girl to hug him, and it made him nervous, very nervous.

“Thank you. I will not disappoint you!” she said, pulling away from the god, who was completely red. Oh, oh, I’m playing with fire here; I’ve irritated him completely, Eri thought.

But in reality, it was the opposite. Hades wasn’t blushing because he was angry; he was red because he’d actually enjoyed the hug, despite his dislike for being touched. It had felt nice. Damn it, Hades, get a grip, he thought, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Ahem. Alright then, you’ll start today by cleaning wherever Pain or Panic tells you. Tomorrow, I will take you somewhere to get inspired, so you can start thinking of ideas.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hades.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve told you several times to call me Hades, not sir.”

“Sorry, Hades.”

“I’m leaving. I’ll be busy today with the newly arrived souls. We’ll meet again later,” he said, and before Erianthe could say goodbye, the Lord of the Dead vanished.

Unable to contain herself, Eri bounced around with excitement. It was the first time someone had given her the chance to use her art for something meaningful, and she was thrilled by the challenge of creating something as unique as the realm of the dead.

Just then, Pain and Panic walked into the throne room and found Eri jumping around happily, looking at her with puzzled expressions.

“What’s wrong with you? Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Panic asked her.

“Oh, you guys scared me!” She hadn’t expected them to catch her being silly, so, embarrassed, she stopped jumping around, though she was so excited.

“No, it’s just that I’m going to get to show my art in the underworld. Hades told me I could redecorate it!”

The two little demons were stunned by the news, since Hades had NEVER let anyone touch anything in the underworld—not Menthe, not Persephone. Erianthe would be the first. The two minions looked at each other, thinking, Something’s up with Hades, and they were determined to figure it out. But for now, they’d go along with their friend.

“Congratulations, Eri! So, have you thought of any ideas yet?” Pain asked.

“No, not really, but I’ll come up with something. Hades told me he’s taking me somewhere tomorrow to get inspired. I have no idea where.”

“What?” the little demons thought. Their boss was definitely acting strange.

That day, Eri spent her time cleaning various parts of the palace—hallways, staircases, and the cafeterium. She was in such a good mood that she decided to do something special for dinner and share it with Pain and Panic. She also planned to prepare some honey and pistachio sweets for breakfast the next day.

Hades’s minions enjoyed a delicious stew for dinner, so good that even other palace staff asked to try it, lured by the delicious aroma. The cafeterium chef, Giles, helped Eri prepare it. He enjoyed watching her prepare food from the world of living, and they even discussed future recipes she could make and ways to improve them.

After dinner, Erianthe went straight to the baths, while the little demons wandered the palace halls.

“Eri cooks so well!” Pain exclaimed.

“That stew was exceptionally good. Who would have thought mortal food could taste so amazing?” Panic replied.

Hades was walking toward his quarters and overheard his two minions.

“Yes, and there’s a special breakfast tomorrow. Hey, do you think if she’s always this happy, she’ll keep making us tasty things to eat?”

What? The brat’s making food in the cafeterium for everyone without me? Hades was starting to fume, but that annoying voice in his head calmed him down. This is your chance. If you eat with her, she’ll cook for you too, not just for breakfast, and you’ll get to spend more time with her. That inner voice kept repeating, Spend more time with her, and, this time, he didn’t resist listening to it.

The next day, Erianthe woke up very early to be the first one at the cafeterium to prepare breakfast with Giles. She focused on making Hades’ breakfast, adding a few of the sweets she’d made for him. She had also started making fig jam a few days ago, which would be perfect to go with them.

Eventually, the other employees began coming to her for food. Delighted, she served them the sweets she had prepared, along with the fig jam.

Pain and Panic arrived and went straight to the table, waiting for Eri to bring their breakfasts, as she’d promised the day before. She left Hades’ tray prepared with Giles and went to sit at the table, but before the skeleton could deliver the god’s breakfast, Hades himself entered the cafeterium, surprising everyone.

“Good morning, sir. Have you come to pick up your breakfast? I was just about to send it,” the skeleton said.

“Good morning, Giles. No, from now on, I’ll be eating in the cafeterium, so prepare a spot for me here every day,” Hades replied, scanning the room for his subordinates and searching for a certain orange-haired head.

And then he saw her. She was sitting in a corner of the cafeterium at a table with Pain and Panic, who were chatting animatedly, unaware that the Lord of the Dead was there. Hades picked up his breakfast and headed to their table.

He didn’t understand why he felt so anxious. He had simply decided to eat with her—in the cafeterium, that is. But he felt nervous, and his hands were even sweating. Like a teenager, he thought to himself.

“Hey, Erianthe, have you ever played astagolai? We’re pretty good at it,” he heard, catching their conversation. So they’re talking about games.

“Hmm, yeah, but I’m kind of clumsy. I’ve never been good at those kinds of games,” Eri said, embarrassed, admitting how bad she was.

“Come on, give it a try. I bet you’re not that bad,” Pain encouraged her, conjuring a few stones.

The rules were simple: five stones were placed near the player’s feet. The player tossed one stone in the air and had to grab another from the ground before catching the one they’d thrown. They’d be playing it on the table instead of the ground.

Erianthe went first. She tossed a stone, but she threw it so high that it flew backward. She leaned back in her chair, lost her balance, and fell to the floor. The stone, meanwhile, fell toward Hades’ head, but luckily, he had quick reflexes and caught it midair.

Silence fell. Eri stayed on the ground, and everyone thought she might be hurt, but soon enough, she jumped up.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!”

“I see you’re all having a good time before work. Just try not to kill anyone,” Hades said, holding back laughter. Although he’d been concerned she might be hurt, he had to admit it was pretty funny.

“HADES!” the three minions shouted.

“What are you doing here?” Eri asked, noticing that he was carrying the breakfast she’d made.

“Well, I’ve decided that from now on, I’ll eat here. I’ve heard the food’s been improving, so I’ll be coming by more often,” the god replied.

What? thought the little demons. Hades was definitely acting strangely.

Eri didn’t know what to think. The god sat down with them and began eating, just like everyone else at the table. Hades had to admit that the sweets and the jam were delicious.

“Who taught you to cook? As I recall, Meg didn’t know the first thing about it,” he asked.

“My grandmother, Alcmena, she was an excellent cook. She taught my mother, and since I loved helping her when I was little, she taught me too. When she passed, I was ten, so my mom and Ilena kept teaching me. She is an exceptional cook.”

“The blonde with the big boo —, um, I mean, the one who runs the tavern?”

“Yes, that's her,” Eri replied, a bit annoyed. Everyone always noticed her friend’s chest, and usually, she didn’t mind, but this time it bothered her that the god brought it up. I’m not jealous, she thought.

“Sir, you should have tried the stew yesterday. It was delicious,” Panic chimed in.

“Yes, I’ve already heard it was amazing, and no one told me.” Hades was getting a bit heated.

“Don’t worry, Hades. I’ll make it again so you can try it,” Eri quickly offered, hoping he wouldn’t incinerate them.

“Good. And from now on, whatever you cook, I want you to make some for me, too.”

“Oh, okay! But we’ll need to buy more food.”

“Don’t worry about that. I have more than enough resources and wealth to buy whatever we need. Order whatever you like,” Hades said, looking at Meg’s daughter, who was staring at him in surprise. She’s so adorable, and those eyes. They’re… Hades, stop it!

“By the way, where am I assigned to clean today?” Eri asked.

“Mmm, we don’t have any specific location assigned,” Pain replied, checking the cleaning schedule.

“She’s assigned to the library. Once we’re done with breakfast, we’ll head there,” Hades announced.

“The library?”

“Yes, and I’ll show you a few things I think you’ll want to see,” Hades replied, noticing her curious look as she hurried to finish her breakfast. Once they’d finished eating, the god told Eri to follow him.

The library was located in Hades’ private wing, making it part of his personal domain and rarely visited by anyone, as the little demons had told her. They’d only been there a few times to report urgent matters, but otherwise, this area was part of Hades’ private quarters.

Erianthe hadn’t paid much attention the first day she brought him breakfast. She was too nervous at the time, but this wing was majestic. Marble everywhere, with intricate columns and tapestries depicting scenes of the Titanomachy. The library was at the end of the hall, behind enormous double oak doors with golden details, guarding the mysterious room.

“Ready? It’s probably full of dust, but I think you’ll like it,” Hades said, watching as Eri took in everything, visibly impressed. Her reaction made him smile. He’d never seen anyone react like this before. Let’s see how she reacts to the best room in the whole underworld.

Erianthe nodded. Hades snapped his fingers, and the doors swung open, revealing a room illuminated by the same soft blue light that filled the rest of the underworld, though without any sinister tone. As she stepped inside, Hercules’ daughter was left speechless.

The room was enormous. Numerous pinewood shelves were filled with scrolls and tablets, but the most impressive part was that the entire room was crafted from white, green, and black marble, with golden accents. In the center of the floor was a beautiful mosaic representing the three realms of the gods: the Olympus, the Seas, and the Underworld.

As in the hallway, the walls held tapestries, though she couldn’t quite make out the scenes they depicted. There were also several ornate columns and amphorae, but what caught her attention the most was a map hanging on one of the walls—a map of constellations.

Hades was proud of Erianthe’s reaction; this room was his favorite, carefully crafted to his taste and filled with a collection of manuscripts, poems, and more.

He observed the young woman. Erianthe had a lot of work to do, but she didn’t seem to mind. She would make this room shine, spotless, and ready for use, even if only Hades would be the one to enjoy it.

“What do you think?” the god asked.

“It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. It’s incredible; I’ve never seen anything like it,” Eri confessed, with a sparkle in her eyes that even Hades found mesmerizing.

“I’m glad you like it. I know there’s some work to be done, but once this room is clean, you’ll be able to use it to consult some scrolls.”

“What? But it’s your private library. Are you saying I can come whenever I want?”

“I’m giving you permission. There are manuscripts here from when this palace was created, along with maps and other things that could help to inspire you for the work I’ve given you.”

“Thank you, Hades. This is more than I could ask for.” She spotted a shelf filled with epic poems and writings. “Wow! You even have literature. I see you’ve got everything.”

“I also have a shelf with every contract I’ve made to date,”  Hades pointed to a packed bookshelf. “Every time I make a deal, a scroll is automatically created with the terms and stored here.”

“Really? Wow, you have everything so well organized.”

“Sweetheart, my business is serious. Everything needs to be in order. So, you’re interested in literature too?”
“Yes, and math, and geography…”

“You’re very curious, Erianthe.” Hades chuckled at the young woman’s enthusiasm. “If you want, you can read whatever you like. Except for the contracts, of course.”

“Really? Thank you! Although, I might not fully understand some subjects, but I’m thrilled to be able to read again.”

“Is that because you didn’t go to school?”

“No, well, yes! But, you know, it’s not like I skipped school on purpose.” The god of the dead watched as she grew embarrassed by this fact. Seeing her curiosity and eagerness to learn, he spoke without thinking.

“Would you like me to be your tutor? ” Hades himself was surprised by his words. What the…? How could I be so impulsive?

“Really? You’d teach me?”  The god sighed. He couldn’t refuse after seeing that look in her eyes.

“As I said, I’m not one to lie. What do you say?” Hades asked seriously.

“Yes, of course! Thank you, Hades.”

And from that moment on, the Lord of the Dead and Hercules’ daughter became practically inseparable.

Erianthe spent several days cleaning the library. There was a lot of dust accumulated after 17 years of not being used, and she frequently encountered families of spiders on the shelves and tapestries. Hades helped her deal with those little creatures.

For his part, Hades relocated his work to the library. Luckily, there were already many chairs and tables, so he was able to do all his paperwork without issue. Occasionally, though, he had to leave to go to the docks to receive new arrivals.

Once the library was fully cleaned and restored to its former glory, they settled into a routine. In the mornings, everyone had breakfast in the cafeterium; Eri cleaned various rooms while Hades handled his duties. They’d stop for lunch, and in the afternoons, they’d meet in the library, where the god taught her various subjects, especially mathematics, a field in which, surprisingly, the Lord of the Dead excelled.

Erianthe loved learning, and there were numerous manuscripts on art. She even found several scrolls detailing the architecture of Ictinus, Callicrates, and Phidias. The latter was a great sculptor who created the frieze of the Parthenon in Athens. She was a huge fan of his works and knew that Athens had established the finest art school in all of Greece—the very school she would have loved to attend, if only she could graduate, if there were no war, and if she were allowed to go to Athens to study.

For his part, Hades enjoyed talking to Erianthe. She was a very interesting girl, and even though she said she hadn’t been able to go to school, there was no doubt that she was very clever. She was like a sponge, absorbing any knowledge he shared and never getting tired of listening to him explain things about the underworld. He was surprised when she told him that he was the one who had designed the palace they were in now. He still remembered when he first arrived, and there was practically nothing.

“What inspired you? This architecture is quite unusual. I mean, you used many angular lines that you don’t usually see on the surface.”

“Well, I was young and a bit of a rule-breaker—maybe too much so—but I liked it, and I still do. I know that when people see this place, it inspires respect, power, and fear, and that’s precisely what I wanted. Plus, I was angry at the time and took it out on this place.”

“Angry?”

“When the realms were divided, I ended up with the worst part.” The god sighed, his expression shifting from cheerful to dark, clearly disturbed by the memory. Erianthe decided not to ask further, not wanting to upset him.

Another change to their routine was that, after dinner, Hades would go to his private bath. At first, Erianthe felt shy in those moments, constantly reminded that the god was probably bathing naked in his pool. Fortunately, thanks to the gods, Pain and Panic have given me the bathing suit, she thought as she wore the swimsuit, so she wouldn’t be naked while bathing in the employee pool.

Many nights, Pain and Panic joined them. Hades wanted to talk to the girl, but when they weren’t around, they chatted about another topic Erianthe loved: stories and legends related to the stars.

“My favorite constellation is Orion. I know his story is sad, but I like it. In general, I love looking at the stars. Every night, I’d climb to the roof to watch them; it relaxed me so much.”

“Do you miss seeing the stars? ”Hades asked her.

“Honestly, yes, I miss the starry sky. But I miss other things, too.”  Eri’s expression was sad, and the god of the dead noticed immediately.

Since they’d started talking daily, he had to admit he’d grown fond of the kid. In fact, he was starting to worry about her—quite a lot, actually—but he wasn’t going to admit that.

Erianthe looked out over the underworld, observing the Elysian Fields. Of course! I know what this place is missing—it needs nature, she thought. But she required inspiration, so she ventured to propose something to the king of the underworld.

“Hades, remember how we agreed I could have one day off per month?”

“Yes, we did agree on that. Why?”

Looking at Hades, she said, “I want to spend a day on the surface.” The god didn’t seem thrilled by this request, and she could sense his distrust as he looked at her. “I just want a bit of sunshine. I think I’m getting so pale that I look like a ghost,” she added, hoping to convince him. Maybe he’ll let me go up, she thought.

After considering it, the god replied:

“Alright, you can go up, but once the sun sets, I want you back in the underworld. Understood? ” Hades warned her. Erianthe knew perfectly well that if she didn’t obey the rules, there could be consequences. Just because they were on good terms now didn’t mean she could do whatever she wanted.

“Deal! I’ll come back as soon as the sun sets. I promise.”  Erianthe smiled. Hades found himself more and more delighted by her happiness, though he had a bad feeling about it…

The next day, Eri prepared to leave the underworld. She was excited to discover the surrounding woods and to sunbathe. However, with the conditions Hades had set, she wouldn’t have time to see her family. Next time, she thought.

During breakfast, Pain and Panic complained about her going to the surface alone.

“But what if something happens to you?” Panic asked.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” she assured them.

Hades sat with them in silence, which worried her. She knew the Lord of the Dead didn’t like her decision to go above, but he was bound by the terms of their agreement.

“And I don’t want you two to follow me. You have work here, so don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“But nothing. I know how to tie my sandals, all by myself. I repeat: don’t worry,”  Eri insisted. That's so Meg, everyone thought, which was no surprise since she was her mother’s daughter.

“Guys, leave her alone. It’s her day off,”  was all Hades said during breakfast.

When they finished, they accompanied Erianthe to the dock, where Charon was waiting to take her across the river.

“Remember, you must return when the sun sets. Charon will be waiting for you,” the god instructed.

“Yes, I know. Thank you. See you tonight!”  the girl said as she waved goodbye, excited to spend time in the world of the living.

She got into the boat. The ferryman set off, leaving the dock and sailing into the waters of the River Styx with a living mortal on board—who would’ve thought?

Both imps and the god of the dead stayed at the dock, watching as the girl drifted farther and farther away. Erianthe turned back and saw them. They looked worried and even sad? She was only leaving for a few hours, but seeing that expression on Hades’ face gave her a pang in her heart. She didn’t want to worry them any further, so she gave them a smile and waved goodbye.

When Hades lost sight of her, he sighed. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt an emptiness inside, already missing that troublesome girl.

Upon reaching the other side, Erianthe thanked the ferryman and climbed the stairs to the surface. It was a long path, but it didn’t feel heavy or lengthy, not like when she had descended with Hades. She could already see the light filtering through the cave’s entrance, and when she finally stepped out, she couldn’t hold back her tears—she was on the surface.

At first, the sunlight blinded her, but after a few minutes, she adjusted to all that brightness and was finally able to see the different colors of the forest. It was autumn, so there weren’t many trees with green leaves, but she loved seeing the yellows, browns, and some reddish tones.

Hercules' daughter let out a cry of joy and ran through the forest, breathing in the fresh air, listening to birds singing, and even hearing a stream nearby. She sat down by the water, digging her fingers into the damp earth, savoring the feeling of being back under a tree in the sunlight.

Even though she was delighted to be there, she remembered her main goal: inspiration for the underworld. So she took out several scrolls from her bag, which she had prepared that morning, and began sketching natural forms that could work with the shapes in the realm of the dead.

Erianthe knew it was risky and that Hades might not like it, but she was going to try. She imagined the throne room with those golden, reddish, and brown tones, giving it a slightly warmer touch. I’ve got it! She thought. Autumn could be the perfect inspiration for the palace, representing the twilight of life.

She was so absorbed in her work that she barely remembered to eat a piece of fruit she had brought along, but by the end, she had gathered enough information, sketches, colors, and ideas for various designs. Eri noticed the sun was setting on the horizon, so she began heading back to the underworld’s entrance—when she heard voices.

“Come on! We need to load the cage.”

“We're going to make a lot of money off this specimen.”

“You said it! We’re so lucky!”

Erianthe hid behind some bushes and saw three men with a huge cage transporting an animal—a wolf, or at least it looked like one. It’s huge! Those three men were traffickers, and they had captured the poor creature.

She didn’t know what to do, but seeing the poor animal desperately trying to escape the cage, she decided she had to do something to free it. She watched for a while until two of the men left. Let’s go to the stream, she heard them say, leaving only one guard behind.

What should I do? Think, Eri, she told herself, spotting a branch nearby. She could try to distract the remaining man to lure him away from the cage, and then try to open it with the dagger Patroclus had given her. What could go wrong?

Without making a sound, she picked up the branch from the ground, moved a little farther away, and threw it. It caught the man’s attention, and he quickly went to investigate. Perfect—now Erianthe could approach the cage to free the wolf.

“Shh, I’m going to help you, buddy.” She whispered to the wolf, who stopped shaking the cage.

Eri took out the dagger and began trying to open the lock, unaware that one of the men had come back and spotted her.

“Hey, you! What are you doing?”

She turned to fight him, but before she could defend herself, she was struck from behind, knocking her unconscious.

Meanwhile, back in the Underworld, specifically at the dock, a certain god of the dead was growing increasingly furious because a certain mortal had still not returned.

Chapter Text

The sun had disappeared over the horizon, and although the Underworld was always cloaked in darkness, its residents knew it was night on the surface. Hades waited at the dock, impatient, his brow furrowed as he looked out over the River Styx. Charon observed him from his boat, feeling similarly uneasy; the girl had not returned. And what's more important, she had agreed with the Lord of the Underworld to be down on time.

“Where is she?” murmured Hades, his dark gaze reflecting more than just simple concern. A foreboding feeling was growing in his chest, intensifying with every passing second.

Pain and Panic were also at the dock, exchanging nervous glances. They knew Erianthe had promised to return by dusk, and now they feared something terrible had happened to her on the surface.

“Maybe she just got distracted looking at the stars…” Panic ventured, trying to downplay the situation, though his tone betrayed that he didn’t believe it himself.
Hades shot him a fierce look, causing the little demon to shrink back in fear. The idea that something might have happened to Erianthe in the world of the living was gaining strength, and a primal instinct—one he hadn’t felt in ages—was pushing him to take action.

“Damn mortal, she probably took the opportunity to escape,” an inner voice told him. Hades took a deep breath. Erianthe wasn’t like that… “What do you know? You trusted her, and look, she hasn’t shown up. She’s betrayed you. Like everyone else…”

No, no, she… She hasn’t betrayed me. Hades refused to believe it.

“Charon, get ready. I’m going to look for her myself,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The boatman nodded, and Hades boarded the boat with an air of determination. Pain and Panic, though terrified, hurried to follow him. With a swift motion, Charon began to row, cutting across the dark waters of the river. Hades was resolved to recover what had been lost on the surface.

Meanwhile, in the forest, Erianthe was beginning to regain consciousness. Her head throbbed, and she felt a sharp pain in her back from the blow. Opening her eyes, she saw she was in a cart with her hands tied. Next to her was the wolf, watching her. She looked at it with sadness and concern, as she had no idea where these traffickers were taking them.

Suddenly, the cart came to a stop, and she heard one of the men shout, “We camp here.” She listened as one of the men got down from the cart and began setting up camp, while the third man came to the back of the cart and saw that her eyes were open.

“Well, look who decided to wake up,” said the man, who was tall and muscular, looking at her with a lecherous grin. He eyed her up and down, analyzing every curve. Erianthe struggled against the ropes. “It’s useless, girl; you won’t be able to escape. Besides, I see you’re a gorgeous girl. We’ll get a good price for you in the slave market.”

“She is pretty! Hey, before we sell her, maybe we should be sure and check her out properly, don’t you think?” added the man setting up the camp. Unlike his companion, he was short and skinny.

“Get her off the cart,” said the third man.

“Yes, boss.” The two men grabbed the girl, one by the legs and the other by the shoulders, and pulled her out of the back of the cart.

“Let go of me!” Eri yelled as the men dragged her, one of them taking the opportunity to grope her breasts. Behind her, she could hear the wolf growling at the men who were taking her away.

“Silence!” The third man, the one they called boss, was very intimidating. He radiated an air of ruthlessness and looked at Erianthe with distaste. They had already lit a fire, and from what Eri could see, they were by a lake. “If you don’t stay still, I swear it’ll be the last thing you do. Got it?”

Eri was terrified; this man didn’t mess around. But she made a very foolish mistake by giving him a defiant look, and he struck her with his fist across the face.
“Ah!” the girl cried out in pain. She felt a sharp pain in her right cheek, and her mouth tasted of iron—he had split her lip.

“So, you think you’re brave? Guys, have you not expressed your desire to taste her? Go ahead, do whatever you want with her,” the man said with a malicious smile.

Meanwhile, up on the surface, Hades, along with the imps, searched the area for any clue about the girl’s whereabouts. Deep down, the god imagined that at any moment she might appear from behind a bush, smiling and apologizing, maybe saying she had fallen asleep or that she couldn’t find her way back.

“She’s gone. She’s escaped. Admit it—no one wants to return to the underworld,” that voice told him. No, she’s not like that, he repeated to himself, convincing himself that Eri wasn’t like the others.

“Boss! We found her bag,” yelled Pain. He hurried to where they had found her belongings; they were scattered on the ground, and undoubtedly, they knew something had happened to Hercules’ daughter. She would never have left her art supplies lying around, especially not in the middle of the forest.

And then he heard it—the plea of a mortal calling out to him, the god of the dead. He heard Erianthe’s cry, begging him for help.

… A few moments earlier…

Erianthe felt those men begin to touch and undress her. She didn’t want to cry, but she was desperate; she didn’t want to lose her virginity this way and didn’t want to be raped. She tried to fight back. Not only that, but she tried to kick them with her legs, which weren’t tied, tried to resist, but it only made them hit her harder.

She thought of her family and her friends, and strangely, when she thought of them, she thought of him—she thought of Hades. “Hades, he’ll be furious,” she thought, and then it struck her: “If you invoke the gods with prayers or pleas, they will appear.” She had nothing to lose by trying.

“Hades! Lord of the dead, I beg you. Help me! Your servant implores you!” Erianthe shouted with all her strength.

“What’s this lunatic doing?” one of the men asked.

“Hahaha. She’s lost her mind; she's already praying to the Lord of the Underworld,” mocked another man.

Erianthe heard them laughing and mocking her as they tore her tunic, pulling down the top and exposing her chest.

“No! No!”

“Come on, pretty one! Just stay still!”

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Eri began to sob, and in a faint voice, she murmured, “Please, Hades. Help me.”

Suddenly, there was a noise, a faint whisper that seemed to echo in the air. The traffickers looked up, confused, but before they could react, a dark figure emerged from the trees, like a menacing shadow.

It was Hades.

The god of the dead observed the scene. Two men were on top of his subordinate, who had tears in her eyes, a split lip, and was half-naked, while the third man stood nearby, watching.

Erianthe was crying, bound, bloody, and exposed, surrounded by three men in the middle of the forest. Hades had to control himself to keep from exploding with the fury he felt, but it was clear to everyone present, judging by their expressions, that he was enraged.

His presence filled the air with a palpable aura of danger, and the men felt a chill run down their spines. The god’s gaze was as cold as ice.

“How dare you lay a hand on my subordinate?” he said in a voice laced with barely contained fury. Though he didn’t shout, his words vibrated with an overwhelming and threatening power.

The two men who had been on top of Erianthe scrambled to their feet, terrified, because standing before them was the god of the dead himself. The third man, the leader, grabbed the girl by the arm.

“You want her? Then let’s make a deal. You let us leave without any trouble, and we’ll give you the girl. Otherwise, I’ll slit her throat.” The man pulled out a knife and pressed it against Eri’s neck. “You wouldn’t want this beauty ending up dead in your realm, would you? It's such a shame we can’t sell her. We could have made a lot of money, but it seems this little toy already has an owner.”

“How dare you try to bargain with a god, mortal?” Hades was on the verge of incinerating him; he was furious. They had intended to sell Eri as a slave, and he wanted to kill them right there. But he saw the fear in the girl’s eyes. He decided to act rationally, though it wasn’t his style. “Fine, go. Give me the girl.”

“Wait, Hades, the wolf… it needs to be freed,” Erianthe said in a faint voice. The god noticed a caged animal on the cart. Then he understood: the girl wanted to help that animal. Is she serious? He thought.

“I told you more than once to return by sunset,” he said, his tone firm, though there was something more than reproach in his eyes.

Erianthe nodded, ashamed.

“I’m sorry… I saw that wolf trapped, and I couldn’t help but try to free it,” she said, looking at the animal, still caged.

Then, the god started to act. His patience was wearing thin. With a mere snap of his fingers, the surrounding trees began to tremble, and the ground beneath them cracked, releasing a dark smoke that wrapped around the men like chains.

At that moment, Pain and Panic appeared, helping to free Erianthe from the ropes that bound her hands. The girl watched as Hades, with a simple gesture of his right hand, tightened the smoky chains around the men, causing them to writhe in pain. Hades glanced at the wolf for a moment, silent, and made a gesture with his other hand. The lock on the cage snapped open instantly.

Before the wolf could escape, one of the men struck the cart. They had wedged a rock under one of the wheels to keep it still, and with that hit, the rock dislodged, sending the cart tumbling into the lake along with the cage and the wolf.

“No!” Eri screamed, not hesitating to dive into the lake to help the animal out of the cage.

“Eri! No!” the little demons shouted as she plunged into the water to save the wolf.

“Boss! Erianthe is in the lake!” Panic yelled.

What? Damn it! How can she be so impulsive? The god was busy torturing the mortals, who were on the verge of passing out from the pain. “I’ll deal with them later,” he thought, and with a snap of his fingers, he sent them to Tartarus, where they would rot in a cell for eternity.

Hades approached the lake and watched as something surfaced, hoping it was the brat. He was ready to give her a monumental scolding, but what emerged from the lake was the wolf. At that moment, the god’s heart almost stopped. Where is she? The wolf howled, signaling to him that something was wrong.

He snapped his fingers again, but nothing happened. What? Don’t tell me! My powers? Have I lost my powers again? There was no time; he dove into the lake to find her. The lake wasn’t very deep, so he submerged and swam toward the bottom.

There, he saw her. Unconscious, part of her tunic had gotten snagged on the cage door. “Damn, girl. How do you throw yourself in to save someone and then can’t save yourself?” the god thought irritably. He tore the fabric of her tunic that was caught, grabbed her, and swam toward the surface. Once out, he swam to the shore, and the demons helped him lay her down on the ground.

“Sir, she’s not breathing,” Pain said, worried.

The Lord of the Dead quickly climbed out of the lake and kneeled beside the girl to help her. “Damn, of all the times to lose my powers,” he thought. He was about to begin resuscitation when he noticed the young woman’s partial nudity. Hades, this is not the time—act! And he began to revive her.

Come on, wake up! The god used his last option, mouth-to-mouth.

She felt her body heavy. She opened her eyes and saw that everything around her was water; she was slowly sinking, yet she wasn’t drowning. In fact, she felt calm and at peace.

Suddenly, she heard a voice. At first, she didn’t recognize it, but soon she realized it was her father’s voice.

“Eri, darling, what are you doing?”

“Dad…” She felt so exhausted.

“Come on, sweetheart, wake up. They’re waiting for you.”

“Dad…”

“Wake up, Eri, please.” This time, it wasn’t her father’s voice. It was someone else’s—Hades? “Wake up!”

“Cough! Cough!” Erianthe was disoriented. “What happened?”

“You’re far too impulsive, Erianthe.” Hades’ voice was gentle, but there was an unmistakable hint of affection and concern in it.

“I’m sorry, Hades,” she whispered, and then hugged the god who had once again saved her life. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

“There’s no need to thank me, but next time, don’t rush in and don’t act alone, all right?” He returned her embrace. The god and the mortal stayed like that for a moment, until one of the imps spoke up.

“Eri, you’re going to catch a cold dressed like that.”

Erianthe looked down and saw that her tunic was torn all over, exposing her, especially around her chest. Embarrassed, she hugged herself, trying to cover as much as she could.

Seeing that the poor girl was redder than he got when he was angry, Hades decided to give her some clothing. Since he couldn’t use his powers, he decided to give her some of his attire. He always wore a chiton, with a toga fastened by his skull brooch, over it.

He removed his toga and wrapped it around the girl to ease her embarrassment at being so exposed. Erianthe was surprised and looked at the god, who now stood with only his chiton.

“Is that better?” he asked her. Eri could only nod, though she was now dressed. She still felt shy about looking directly at the god. Why do I get so nervous? she wondered.

Suddenly, the demons shrieked in fear and hid behind the lord of the dead. The wolf was approaching them. As Erianthe had already noticed, this wolf was enormous, but being Meg’s daughter, that didn’t frighten her. She tried to stand, but Hades was still holding her in his arms.

“I'll be fine. Let me get up,” the girl assured him.

“The last time you said, I'll be fine, you promised to return to the Underworld by sunset and to avoid getting captured by slave traders,” the god replied with irony.

“Please, trust me.”

Hades sighed and allowed her to get up, knowing he could trust her. “In the end, she didn't leave. She didn't betray me,” the god thought.

With difficulty, Erianthe rose from his lap and walked over to where the wolf was. Now that she looked closer, there was something strange about it. Aside from being an enormous creature, its fur was entirely black, and its eyes were red. The wolf watched as the girl approached.

“I’m glad you’re all right. You’re free now!” Eri smiled, daring to stroke the head of the massive creature. “It’s as big as a horse; you could actually ride it,” she thought.

Hades looked on warily, aware that it was no ordinary wolf.

“Eri, be careful. You should know, that wolf is a being that appears in forests where there are wandering souls, to prevent those souls from causing havoc in the world of the living. They’re like guardians. I’m surprised those men managed to capture one.”

“Wandering souls?”

“Souls that are trapped in this world, wandering aimlessly. But they’re dangerous because there's still something binding them to the world of the living.”
“Good explanation, Lord of the Dead,” came an unexpected voice from the lake.

Everyone was startled by the voice. From the water emerged a beautiful woman with dark hair and green eyes. She looked directly at Erianthe, who didn’t understand who she was. A nymph? She wondered.

“So, you managed to survive, young one. I thought you might die—such a pity! You would have made a fine resident of these woods,” said the woman.

“Resident of these woods?”

“This forest is home to numerous wandering souls, child. Those who carry guilt, regret in their hearts… and you… Your heart is full of it,” she said maliciously.
Hades didn’t like what was happening. He stood and placed himself between the spirit and Erianthe. The wolf also growled at the woman, stepping protectively in front of her.

“How sweet! You like this girl enough to protect her and save her life? I only appeared to give her some advice, I swear. I won’t do her any harm.”

“What do you want to tell me?” Erianthe asked.

“If you continue to carry that weight in your heart, Erianthe, daughter of Hercules and Megara, you will end up as a wandering soul, and your spirit will never find rest in the Underworld,” the woman warned her.

“What do you mean?” Erianthe asked, frightened.

“That night still weighs heavily on your heart. You blame yourself for their deaths, your grandparents’, and that young man’s—yeah, especially that boy, Lysander.”

It had been a long time since she’d heard anyone speak his name—Lysander. She couldn’t hold back the tears that began to slide uncontrollably down her cheeks.

Thinking of him always brought her great pain.

“What hurts you the most is that he sacrificed himself for you, isn’t it?”

Hades watched Erianthe closely. He had never seen her like this before—with that pain in her eyes and those tears. It was a sight he didn’t like. He wanted to see her smile, yet here she was, trembling and crying.

“Enough,” they heard Erianthe whisper in a faint voice.

“What’s wrong? Don't you want to remember it? Don’t you want to hear it?” With that last taunt, Erianthe looked at her confused, until she saw the water in the lake shift and transform—into him.

Standing before them was a young man, handsome, dark-haired, with a gentle, kind face, smiling at Erianthe. “He looks exactly as I remembered him,” thought the girl. She saw him and didn’t hesitate to walk toward him, toward Lysander.

“Lysander…”

“Erianthe, my Eri. Live and be happy! Promise me you’ll always give the world that beautiful smile of yours.”

“Lysander…”

“Erianthe, I love you.” And before she could reach him, the figure of the young man vanished.

“Lysander! No!” she cried out, her voice breaking. Her pain was almost tangible.

Hades held her to try to comfort her.

“If you don’t forgive yourself, girl, if you don’t heal, you’ll never find peace. Remember that.”

“Leave her alone, Nemeris,” the god of the dead warned threateningly.

“Well, well! So, you know who I am. It is quite an honor coming from the Lord of the Underworld. But understand this: your beloved subordinate will have to heal her heart eventually; otherwise, one day she’ll join this club.”

From among the trees, specters started to emerge—souls that had been trapped. The wolf positioned itself between the girl and the souls, howling to drive them away, including Nemeris, who sank back into the water, but not before giving the god and the daughter of Hercules a malicious smile.

“Eri, can you hear me?” Hades asked, worried.

Erianthe didn’t respond; she was in shock, reliving Lysander’s final words from that night.

Seeing that the girl wasn’t reacting, Hades decided to lift her up and carry her. He still had enough energy to transport them back to the gates of the underworld with Erianthe in his arms.

“Guys! Go prepare my private bath, get a change of clothes for Erianthe, and tell Giles to prepare something to eat—something suitable for the living,” he ordered his minions, who vanished to carry out his instructions, though not without giving a worried glance at their companion.

Just before disappearing, Hades noticed that the wolf bowed in a gesture of respect, then disappeared into the shadows of the forest, likely searching for the recently disturbed souls.

“Let’s go home, Erianthe,” the god whispered to the girl, vanishing with her into the darkness of the night.

Chapter Text

Hades appeared in front of the Underworld’s portico, carrying Erianthe. The girl was silent, but he knew she was still awake. He didn’t know what to do; comforting others was not his strong suit—in fact, he had never comforted anyone in his life, and he’d been around for millennia.

He entered the cave and began descending the stairs that led to the dock. Who would have thought he’d be descending these steps with Eri again, and in this way? He couldn’t stop thinking about what the spirit of the lake had said, nor could he shake the image of that young man—the one who had been Erianthe’s future fiancé.

He didn’t need to be a genius to realize that this was the prince who had died five years ago. Not only that, but he had to admit, the guy was very handsome. Hades was filled with conflicting feelings, from a protective instinct over Eri to outright jealousy. “I’m getting old; this is giving me a headache,” thought the god, who occasionally glanced at the young woman resting her head on his chest. “I think I need a drink.”

Erianthe felt empty. After crying and reliving that night, it was as if she had a gaping hole in her chest. She didn’t know what to think. She thought she’d moved on; that night was part of her past, but it seemed her heart wasn’t so sure.

Likewise, she felt dirty. Those men had tried to rape her, and she was ashamed, especially because the god of the dead had seen her half-naked and vulnerable. Yet, inwardly, she was relieved when she saw him appear, even when he looked furious, displaying his fearsome power. She knew he was a dangerous god, but something told her that, deep down, he was more than just the hated lord of the dead. She had to admit she felt safe as he carried her back to the Underworld.

Her head was resting on his chest, and she could feel Hades’ heartbeat—strong and powerful, like him, like those arms holding her, yet carrying her with such care, as if she were a precious piece of pottery. She noticed his warmth and his characteristic sulfur scent mixed with something else. “What is it? Oh, I know! He smells like parchment, leather, and… soil? Maybe,” thought the girl as she slowly relaxed.

The daughter of Hercules stole a glance upward at the god’s face. He looked serious; his expression was almost emotionless, but after spending each day with him, she could decipher subtle details: the slight furrow of his brow, the way he clenched his jaw. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn’t say anything. From what little she knew of him, it was better to give him space. He wasn’t a god who liked to open up to others; he was far too proud for that.

Charon was already waiting for them to board. Erianthe expected the god to set her down, so she shifted to put her feet on the ground, but instead of releasing her, Hades held her tighter.

“I’m not letting you go. I’ll carry you all the way to the baths, so don’t move. You might make me lose my balance, and we might end up in the water. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” said the Lord of the Dead, looking at her with exasperation.

“To the baths? Hades, you can’t carry me for that long! You’ll get a cramp or something, plus, you won’t be able to hold my weight for that long,” the girl tried to protest in vain.

“Hello? Were you listening, or are you deaf? I said I’m not letting you go until we’re at the baths! And that’s what I’m going to do! And did you say you’re heavy? Sweetheart, you weigh nothing. Besides, you’re talking to a god; I’m much stronger than a mortal,” replied the irritable Lord of the Dead, growing increasingly agitated. “Better not argue; I don’t want to end up roasted,” Eri thought. It was better not to contradict the god.

Charon was glad to see the mortal girl and immediately proceeded towards Hades’ palace on the other side of the Underworld’s gates. The skeleton found the scene curious; he’d never seen his lord act like this with anyone. They soon arrived at the other dock, and the skeleton watched as the god and the mortal disappeared up the stairs. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it,” thought the boatman, who returned to the waters of the River Styx to wait for the souls of the dead.

Once at the palace, the King of the Underworld wasted no time and headed straight to the baths. Waiting for them there were the imps and Ajax.

“Sir, your bath is ready. And so is Erianthe’s change of clothes,” announced the bath attendant with a bow.

“Good, I’ll leave Erianthe to you. I’m going to check if Giles has prepared the food. Can you walk?” the god asked the girl.

“Yes, I can walk. Don’t worry,” Eri replied. The daughter of Megara was about to enter the employees’ baths when she felt someone grab her arm. She turned and saw it was Hades. “What is it?”

“They’ve prepared my thermal baths for you, not the employees’ bath.”

“But it’s your private bath, Hades.”

“So? Go on in. The water in my baths has healing properties, so it will help you recover, since I can’t use my powers to heal you right now.” Eri looked at the god. She could tell from his expression that he was serious, so she entered the private baths of the Lord of the Dead, not without first thanking the imps for helping her in the forest.

Ajax accompanied her inside. Unlike the employees’ baths, there were no lockers, but there was a changing room to leave her things. The skeleton showed her where her new tunic was and handed her a basket with soap and a towel. She noticed that her black swimsuit was also in the basket in case she wanted to swim in the pool.
She thanked the skeleton for his help. Left alone, she began to undress, taking off the toga Hades had wrapped around her—it was almost like being enveloped by him, surrounded by his presence. “What are you thinking, Eri? You’re going crazy down here,” she told herself. “Don’t fool yourself; you like spending time with him. In fact, you love it,” an inner voice said. That thought made her blush deeply. She shook her head, trying to clear those ideas. Wrapping herself in a towel, she grabbed the soaps and entered the baths.

It wasn’t the first time she was there; she had cleaned these baths more than once, so she already knew that the water poured directly from the walls as if they were waterfalls. She chose one of the more secluded ones and stood beneath it, letting the water fall directly onto her. The hot water instantly relaxed all her muscles. “How nice.”

Hades was on his way back to the baths. He had instructed Giles to leave food ready in Erianthe’s room— “food for two,” he had said. Why was he feeling nervous now? “Ridiculous nonsense,” the god thought to himself.

When he arrived at the baths, he noticed that Ajax was gone, so he decided to go in. Erianthe was probably already in the pool, so he could take a quick bath and then… “Maybe I could join her in the pool? Of course! What was the problem with that?” thought the god. After all, they had been talking in the pool for a while, even if they were in separate baths, so this wouldn’t change anything.

He undressed and went to one of the waterfalls; the hot water would be good to help him relax. He headed for the one he always used, the one that was more secluded. Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice someone humming, and as he reached the waterfall, that’s when he saw her. He saw Erianthe in all her glory.

The Lord of the Dead felt his whole body heat up. “Damn it! What is she still doing here?” And just at that moment, Eri turned around and saw the Lord of the Dead standing before her, covered only by a towel over his parts, while she was completely naked. For a second, they both stood frozen until the girl reacted.

“HADES! PERVERT!” Erianthe screamed, mortified, trying to cover herself. “Don’t just stand there! Leave!” She threw a bar of soap at him.

“SORRY!” He darted to the other side of the baths, dodging the soap she’d thrown at him. “I thought you were already in the pool!”

“Well, next time, ask before coming in!” Eri was flustered, her heart racing. “If he’d already seen my chest, now he’s seen everything. How embarrassing!” She finished soaping up and put on her swimsuit, so at least she wouldn’t be naked.

At first, she thought about leaving, but then she reconsidered and dove into the pool. She swam to the open area and, as she often did, admired the view of the underworld. The pool was a bit higher up, but the view was the same. She leaned on the edge, lost in thought about the same thing over and over: the night her grandparents and Lysander had died. It still hurts so much.

Hades heard the girl plunge into the pool. “Why do these things keep happening to me? This girl is making everything complicated,” thought the god, who was still shaken, nervous, and with his pulse racing. Seeing her like that—by the gods, how was she so beautiful and so gorgeous? She could easily dethrone Aphrodite. “Hades, stop thinking these things. She’s still a young girl; don’t be a pervert. Don’t be like your brothers.”

The god managed to calm himself. He conjured up a swimsuit to wear before entering the pool; he wasn’t about to dive in naked, knowing Erianthe was in the same pool. Slowly, he entered the water and swam over to where she was, leaning on the edge with her gaze lost in the depths of the underworld.

He sat beside her, keeping a bit of distance, and didn’t say a word. They stayed in silence for a while until Hades decided to break it.

“Sorry about before. Really, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Am I apologizing? I think this is the first time I’ve ever done that.

“Apology accepted,” replied the girl, embarrassed as she recalled the moment. She added, “Thanks for coming for me, truly. You saved me again.”

“It was nothing.”

They looked at each other and smiled. The god noticed that Erianthe’s gaze had lost that usual sparkle.

“Are you okay?” he asked without thinking. What? Since when do I ask these kinds of questions? Damn it.

Erianthe was taken aback by his question. It was unlike Hades to act this way, but even so, the daughter of Hercules replied.

“The truth? I’d be lying if I said I was fine. Honestly, I don’t even know how to feel. It’s been a hell of a night, between getting kidnapped, tortured, handled like a doll, almost drowning, and then a ghost reminded me of one of the worst days of my life… So yeah, I’d definitely be lying if I said I was fine.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not okay.”

They fell silent again. It was an uncomfortable silence. Hades didn’t know what to say; these situations weren’t his thing; in fact, he hated sentimentality. The silence made him anxious, but he also didn’t want to push her to talk if she didn’t want to. What do mortals do in these situations?

“That night was horrible. None of us could have predicted that our fates would change forever.” Eri began to say. She looked at the god to see if she should continue, and Hades nodded. This will be hard, the girl thought.

“The princes had been living with us for a while; we’d been hiding them and living in relative peace. Until the king ordered the expropriation of our lands and wealth, and that’s when he realized his nephews were in our house. Then he didn’t hold back. He accused us of treason and didn’t give us time to escape. That very same day, he sent the guards to our home.”

“The guards?”

“Yes. The royal guard stayed at the palace; they didn’t accompany the previous king to war. But beyond that, the king has a personal guard of five people. You never want to cross paths with them because if they show up, you know you’re dead. There is a rumor that they are genuine assassins who have been hired by the king. And that night, one of those killers showed up at our house along with the guards.”

Erianthe went silent for a moment. That memory made her chest tighten; she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She closed her eyes to stop herself from crying; she didn’t want Hades to see her so vulnerable, so pathetic.

The god saw that the girl was on the verge of a panic attack. No, he wasn’t going to force her to recount something so traumatic. He moved closer to her and placed a hand on her head, which made her open her eyes immediately.

Hades was standing in front of her, looking at her intensely. She didn’t feel nervous; in fact, she felt calmer.

“You don’t have to explain everything. I’m listening. I’m not here to comfort you; don’t think of me as your therapist. But if you want to talk, I’ll listen. These waters can heal any wound… except those of the soul.”

“I know you’re not going to comfort me, and I don’t want you to. Thank you, Hades,” Erianthe said, offering him a gentle smile.

“Thank goodness! But if you want to keep going, I’m here,” the god said with a grin. It was strange to see him smile, especially with those sharp teeth. Erianthe sighed. She needed to get this burden off her chest; she needed to start healing.

“You know, the killer who came to our house is obsessed with fire; he loves to burn and torture people with it. They call him Pyros. At first, when you got so angry that you scorched part of the throne room, I got terrified—you reminded me of him.”

“I reminded you of the pyromaniac killer? Not sure whether to feel flattered or insulted,” Hades said, attempting to lighten the mood a bit. He could tell the girl had to vent.

She laughed at the god’s remark; he could be amusing occasionally. When her laughter ceased, she sighed. Now or never, Erianthe, she told herself.

“When they came in the middle of the night… Pyros didn’t hesitate to set our house on fire while we were asleep. I can still remember that madman’s laughter echoing through the house, the heat from the flames, that searing heat. The smoke was choking us, burning our lungs. Honestly, I thought I was going to die.” Now, Erianthe began to cry.

Hades thought that if he ever saw that Pyros, he would burn him alive. He, too, used flames to torture and destroy; in some ways, he was like that man. But he wasn’t crazy enough to burn a mortal alive; he knew that was too cruel—even for him, an expert in cruelty.

He looked at Erianthe, who was no longer looking at him but had her head down. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew she was crying. And to think I wanted to make her suffer, he reflected. That thought left him stunned. It was true; he no longer felt the need. He didn’t want that for her anymore. Now, he could use her vulnerabilities to bring her to his side, to make her his ally.

“We got out of the house as fast as we could. I still think it was a miracle that some of us made it out alive. One of the princes escaped with my mother and Zenos. My mother was reluctant to leave us behind, but the prince insisted that he would get her and my brother to safety. Behind our house, there was a path with stairs leading down to the beach, and they managed to escape that way. I was left behind with the other prince and my grandparents.” Erianthe had to stop; her voice was breaking. She took a deep breath to calm herself and felt a hand on her shoulder. She knew it was Hades’s hand.

“My grandparents got trapped. I tried to move the obstacles with Lysander, but we couldn’t. I was ten years old and didn’t have much strength. Not only that, but I still remember my grandmother telling me to go, that they had already lived long enough. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make.” She was crying. “I can still remember their screams of pain as they…”

“Eri, don’t say it. I understand. It’s okay.” She looked at the god, who, for the first time, seemed to look at her with… compassion? Was Hades feeling compassion? You’re imagining things, Erianthe, she thought.

“The flames were consuming us. Lysander grabbed a tapestry from the wall and wrapped me in it. The famous tapestry that survived, and we managed to get out of the house. Unfortunately, the guards blocked the path to the beach, so we had to escape into the forest path. But Pyros caught up to us and attacked Lysander, who protected me. And what you heard—that was the last thing he said to me. He told me to run, to flee without looking back, but I did look back and saw his body fall, lifeless, to the ground.”

She paused once more to catch her breath.

“The guards were after me, so I had to hide. The captain of the royal guard found me, but he just looked at me and walked away. He didn’t tell anyone I was there. The captain of the royal guard is Ilena and Egan’s father. Before he left, he said to me, ‘I’m sorry, Erianthe.’ I can’t hate him; he was only following orders. Thanks to him, I’m still here.” She lifted her gaze to meet the Lord of the Underworld’s eyes once again and smiled. In the end, he listened to her entire story. “If I had died that day, I would have saved you a lot of trouble, don’t you think?”

“Don’t say that!” Hades was disturbed by her comment, unwilling to even imagine her soul in the River Styx. “If you weren’t here… I’d be insufferably bored.” Nice going, Hades. You’re an idiot, the god thought after his clumsy attempt at a comforting comment.

Erianthe was surprised, but she burst out laughing. What a thing to say, she thought, but she knew Hades wouldn’t say anything better.

“I think it’s time we head out,” Eri said to Hades. He nodded, but before they left the pool, he indicated that she should go first and wait for him outside the baths. That way, neither would feel uncomfortable while they changed.

Once they were both dressed, they went to Erianthe’s room and had something to eat. They didn’t speak of the ordeal anymore. Hades mentioned that they’d found her belongings scattered through the forest, and they started discussing the design she had in mind, but before they could agree on anything, exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep.

Hades smiled. It seemed it had become a habit to carry the girl, although this time the journey was just from the chair to the bed. Once he had laid her down, he observed her. He could spend hours looking at her and not get tired of it. Seeing her so at peace, his gaze lingered on her lips, and he remembered the moment he had to give her mouth-to-mouth.

He shook the thought out of his head. Hades, remember, you’re not a pervert. And he left the room, but he was still so agitated after everything that had happened that night that he wasn’t in the mood to sleep. So he went down to Tartarus, where his new prisoners awaited eternal torment.

Chapter Text

Several days had passed since the forest incident, and the residents of the underworld knew that the mortal was not well. Although she smiled and joked with everyone, they noticed that the light she usually radiated had dimmed. But the one who truly noticed the change was none other than the god of the dead himself.

Since that night, when Erianthe opened up and told him what had happened to her years ago, she completely avoided the topic, as if it had never existed. And that annoyed Hades. He knew how much Eri was burdened by the loss of her grandparents and that boy, but he had no idea how to lift her spirits, how to bring back the glow that captivated everyone, including himself—though he wouldn't admit it.

During their sessions in the library, Eri showed him an idea she had come up with about adding some elements of nature into certain areas of the palace.

“What do you think?” Eri asked the god as he looked over her designs. She really was a genius; she had come up with an incredible design for the throne room.

“Hmm, I like the design. I have to admit, sculpting these columns would give the room an imposing touch. But sculpting vines—won’t that be a bit too much?”

“I don’t think so. It would be a nice detail that could help contrast with the current lines; it would help balance the gloomy atmosphere in here. Plus, we could add some color. It would be nice to use autumn colors—golds, browns, reds…”

“Why autumn colors?”

“Well, while I was up there, I thought about how autumn leads into winter, a cold season where nature 'sleeps.' It almost seems like everything is dead. So, I believe the palace and the areas where souls arrive could reflect that transition between life and death. I don’t know—it sounded good in my head.”

“That’s very clever! I like it. I had my doubts when I saw the nature-inspired designs—I’m not a big fan of 'living' things—but with that explanation and the context you’ve given, I think it could work. You have my permission to start the work on the throne room.”

“Really? Amazing! You’ll see—it’ll be majestic. You’re going to love it!” Erianthe was thrilled. Hades was glad to see her so cheerful, but he still couldn’t see that glow in her eyes. What else can I do? He thought, frustrated.

To deal with his frustration, he spent time in a certain area of the underworld no one dared even mention: the Tartarus. He wasn’t fond of the place either, but that’s where he kept them—the three who had nearly raped Eri and beaten her repeatedly. He had them locked up, begging for their lives, and to him, that was music to his ears. Not only that, but he had to admit, he missed that satisfaction. He unleashed his anger on them over and over, fueled by the rage and fury that overtook him whenever he thought about what they had done to her.

He knew she wouldn’t approve of what he was doing, but those three deserved it.

While there, he realized a few things: one, he was growing fond of Erianthe; two, something strange was happening to his powers; and three, something was wrong in Tartarus.

The god had to admit that spending time with the daughter of his nemesis was very enjoyable. Being with her and talking to her was something he looked forward to every day since she had saved him from falling into the vortex. She was like a breath of fresh air in the decaying gloom of the underworld. But he also noticed something wasn’t right with his powers.

While Eri read a philosophy manuscript that Hades had recommended, he was poring over information about the vortex of souls. He needed to find out if those waters could drain divine powers, but he found nothing, and that unsettled him. Each time, it was becoming harder and harder to recover his strength after using his powers. And, of course, there was the issue of Tartarus: some of its residents were missing.

He had been trapped in the vortex for 17 years, and while Pain and Panic had managed some tasks in his absence, other responsibilities—like keeping Tartarus in check—had been neglected. The creatures that lived there could unleash chaos, though fortunately, the most dangerous ones were still confined. But some of them had simply vanished.

“Just what I needed—more problems,” the god thought, feeling a massive headache coming on. He leaned against one of the shelves and glanced toward the table where Eri sat. Watching her made him feel calmer. He remembered the moment she had called out to him for help—almost no one ever called for him. “Wait, I’ve got it!”

Then it hit him: gods received part of their power from mortal offerings and prayers.

Of course, he wasn’t exactly a popular god, and he had long learned that his powers couldn’t be strengthened through offerings or prayers but through other means: maintaining the balance between the living and the dead and recruiting loyal subordinates to pledge their support to him. And that’s when he realized he had an issue… It was most likely that the balance between the living and the dead had been affected by the ongoing war. But even more alarming was the sharp decline in the number of his subordinates.

“It can’t be—the number of monsters in the underworld!” the god thought, exasperated. Seventeen years ago, his power had been at its peak, thanks to the alliances he had forged and the steady flow of loyal members provided by Echidna, the mother of all monsters. And now he had nothing. Or did he?

He still had Echidna’s favor. He could meet with her and gather a considerable number of monsters as his allies again, restoring a significant portion of his power.
“Power? For what? To take Olympus again?” He thought about it. “It wouldn’t be easy this time, but…” To protect her.

There it was again—that damned voice. You want to protect her; don’t deny it.

“I’m not denying it. I want to protect her.” Hades laughed. When had that become a priority for him? But it was true. The Lord of the Dead wanted to protect her. And why not? He could even think about taking Mount Olympus again.

Erianthe began work on the throne room renovations. She did after her cleaning duties, which meant the project would progress slowly. The few remaining subordinates in the underworld were recruited to carve the columns from stone, and later, Eri herself would sculpt the intricate designs. After lunch, she spent her time in the library. Her days were completely occupied, but even so, it wasn’t enough to keep the memories of that night in the forest at bay. They haunted her every night in the form of nightmares.

“I have to do something; I can’t go on like this,” Eri thought. She knew perfectly well that those memories—the ones from the forest, as well as the deaths of her grandparents and Lisander—were consuming her. Little by little, they were devouring her, and if she didn’t act soon, she would lose her mind. Every night, she woke up drenched in sweat, followed by a wave of anxiety. She had already relieved part of that guilt by opening up to Hades, but she needed to do more.

One night, she woke up and sat on the edge of her bed, her heart racing. “The same nightmare again.” Erianthe didn’t know what time it was, but it was still dark. She got up and sat at her vanity. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. Her complexion was pale, and she felt cold. She had noticed how the underworld had been getting chillier—a change the imps attributed to the approach of winter. “Already? How much time has passed down here?” Better not to dwell on it.

“I want to get rid of this weight, but how?” Erianthe murmured.

And like a divine revelation, she knew the answer. She had to return to where it all began. “I have to do it,” she thought, and only one person could help her.

Knock, knock…

“Hades?”

The god thought he heard Erianthe’s voice. Was he dreaming?

Knock, knock…

“Hades? Are you awake?”

Definitely not a dream. The god opened his eyes. What time was it? He got up and went to the door of his chambers. When he opened it, there she was—the girl who had been giving him so many headaches lately.

“This better be urgent, kid,” Hades muttered, but then he noticed her face—or more precisely, her expression. Something seemed to be troubling her. “What's going on?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“What?” The god was completely confused.

“I need you to take me somewhere. Please.” The girl looked at him seriously.

“Alright. Tell me, where do you want to go?”

They appeared near a path in the forest—a path all too familiar to Erianthe.

“Are you sure about this?” Hades asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Y-yes,” Eri murmured. The god could see she was trembling, and not because of the cold. “This is the path.”

“Which path?”

“The one I escaped on.” She stepped into the middle of the trail as a gentle sea breeze swept over her. She could almost imagine herself running through it, fleeing the fire from five years ago.

Likewise, she looked toward the direction of her old home, but before she could move forward, a sound caught her attention. Both the god and the mortal tensed, Hades readying himself to strike. But out of a bush came… a sheep?

“A sheep?” Hades muttered in disbelief.

And it wasn’t just one sheep; several were grazing nearby.

“My grandfather's sheep?” Hercules' daughter was startled. There had been a stable, but she doubted the animals could have survived—or could they? Could it be possible? For a moment, she felt a flicker of hope.

“Eri? What's happening?” Hades asked, noticing the sudden shift in her demeanor. “This isn’t going to end well,” he thought, worried.

“My grandparents. Could my grandparents still be alive?” Her voice trembled, and tears began to well up in her eyes. “Grandpa! Grandma! I’m here!” Erianthe suddenly bolted down the path toward what had once been her home.

“Wait, Erianthe!” Hades shouted. “Damn it,” he cursed under his breath, taking off after her.

In her mind, Erianthe clung to the hope that her grandparents might have survived all those years ago. She imagined running to her house and finding them there, starting their morning as always. Her grandfather tending to the sheep, her grandmother preparing breakfast.

But deep down, she knew these thoughts were irrational. She was lying to herself. Still, that glimmer of hope gave her strength—it kept her moving, right until she slammed headfirst into reality.

She emerged from the forest into a meadow. It was still dark, but dawn was not far off. She stood in the field of flowers her father had loved so much—the ones she had been named after—and there, in the distance, lay what remained of her home.

“How foolish I am.” Eri whispered. She went back to her old home for the first time and saw what was left: ruins.

Hades arrived moments later. “For a mortal, she runs fast,” he thought, though her youth likely played a part in that. He stopped beside Erianthe, who was completely frozen in place, staring at what was before them: a house reduced to rubble.

The only structure still standing was part of a stone wall and a heavily rusted metal gate. Behind the wall, the house was destroyed. All that remained were a few scattered stones and the lintel of a doorway—nothing else of the villa of the famous hero.

“I must be the most pathetic person in all of Greece,” Eri spat out bitterly.

“Why would you say—”

“Because, for one second, I actually thought they were STILL alive! I’m an idiot, stupid, and pathetic! I heard them screaming in pain as the flames consumed them!” Erianthe shouted and collapsed to her knees. She wept uncontrollably. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Hades stood there, watching the girl break down on the ground, crying out all the pain and suffering she carried inside. “And to think I wanted to make her suffer more. She’s already completely shattered on the inside,” he thought. This kind of grief—he had seen it before. He had lived it. And, truthfully, he had no idea how to help someone in that state. No one had ever helped him.

Finally, the god kneeled beside her. She kept saying the same thing over and over: “I'm not good enough; I should die.” He couldn’t stand listening to it any longer.

“STOP IT!” Hades shouted.

Erianthe looked up at him, startled. She had completely forgotten he was even there. He looked furious, though she couldn’t tell why.

“Listen, Erianthe,” he said firmly. “I know you’ve been through hell. You’ve experienced terrible things at an age when no one should have to, but you’re still here. If you weren’t meant to be, those three witches would’ve cut your thread of life long ago. Stop tormenting yourself over the past—it can’t be changed. So get up and face your destiny.”

“But I’m weak… I…”

“Weak?” Hades' voice was tinged with disbelief. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? Because I don’t. You’re not like that.”

“And how would you know what I’m like?” she snapped back.

“You’re strong and brave, Erianthe,” he said firmly. “But you can’t keep blaming yourself for things beyond your control. Your grandparents’ deaths were inevitable. So was that boy’s. You told me yourself—he sacrificed himself for you. Honor that sacrifice.”

Erianthe stared at him. His face was still set in frustration, though she could see how much this situation bothered him. It clearly made him uncomfortable, yet there he was, staying by her side, tolerating her tears, and speaking the harsh truth she needed to hear.

On the horizon, the sun was beginning to rise. A soft breeze enveloped them, stirring the flowers and filling the air with a gentle fragrance. The Lord of the Dead was right. Suddenly, on impulse, Erianthe rushed forward and hugged him.

Hades froze. It wasn’t the first time she had hugged him—she’d done so by the lake that night—but he hadn’t expected this. He didn’t like being touched, yet somehow, with her, it was different. It was… pleasant. Warm. He sighed and awkwardly returned the hug. “I could get used to this,” he thought.

“You know these flowers are called cornflowers?” Erianthe said after a moment. “My father loved them for their fragrance. He said it was soft and sweet. And he loved this shade of blue—it was one of his favorite colors. When he found out my mother was pregnant, these flowers inspired my name.”

“Really? I have to admit, they’re pretty,” Hades replied, smirking, “but I hate flowers.”

“You hate flowers?”

“Long story. Ages ago, they tried to arrange a marriage for me. With Persephone. We had some things in common, but then there was the whole issue with her mother and the fact that she hated the Underworld. It didn’t work out. Since then, flowers have never been my thing. But I’ll make an exception for these.” He smiled faintly, but there was sadness and melancholy in his eyes.

At that moment, Erianthe realized that the god carried a heavy burden of his own.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For bringing me here, for staying with me, and for putting up with me.” She felt a bit embarrassed that Hades had seen her in this state, but at the same time, she was glad he was there. It was strange—she felt increasingly comfortable around him, and she didn’t know why. Yet with him, she could open up in a way she hadn’t with anyone else.

“What choice do I have? I don’t want you wandering around the Underworld like a lost soul. You’re enough trouble as it is, kid.” Hades teased her, though his tone carried a touch of irony.

“Ha! You’re starting to sound like one of those motivational scrolls,” she said with a laugh.

They were still hugging, but Eri was the first to pull away. An idea had struck her.

“What are you doing?” Hades asked as she began picking some flowers.

“You’ll see.” She didn’t stop until she’d gathered a decent bouquet. “Come on. I’ll show you my house.”

Hades followed her to the gate. For a moment, Erianthe hesitated, as if she didn’t dare open it. But there was no turning back now. She pushed the gate, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn it, it’s stuck.” She rattled the gate in frustration, trying in vain to open it.

After a few minutes of cursing and hitting the gate, Hades stepped in to help. With a single hand, he swung it open effortlessly. One of the perks of being a god was having more strength than a mortal.

The girl looked at him with a face that clearly said, “You could have helped earlier, couldn’t you?” To which Hades burst into laughter. He had been holding it in for a while.

They entered the courtyard and stood in front of the house. It was destroyed and burned, but strangely, the lintel of the main door was still standing. Eri smiled. She couldn’t believe that part of it had survived. She approached it and touched it. There were the marks her mother used to make for her and her brother when they were younger, tracking their growth over the years.

“Look, Hades! This was my height when I was ten years old,” she pointed, showing him one of the marks on the wood.

Hades found it amusing that such a small detail made her so happy.

“You were such a tiny thing. Still are,” he teased.

“Hey! What are you talking about? I’m average height for my age!” Eri puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. “She’s adorable and so easy to tease,” thought the god.

“When you were ten, you barely came up to my hip. Now, if you’re lucky, you might reach my stomach.”

“Very funny…”

“Ha! I am funny! You should have seen the face you just made.” Hades was laughing at Eri, but he managed to make her smile. He observed the piece of wood with the height marks and had an idea for later.

Erianthe stepped back, kneeled, and placed the bouquet in front of the house.

“Do you mind if I say a prayer?” Eri asked the god.

“Not at all. Does this mean you’re going to dedicate a prayer to me?” Hades looked at her curiously.

Erianthe’s eyes widened—she hadn’t realized that she was about to pray to the god of the dead standing right next to her. A little embarrassed, she began,
“Oh, Hades, Lord of the Dead. Hear the prayer of this humble mortal. Please let the souls of Alcmena, Amphitryon, and Lysander rest in peace in your realm. I offer this bouquet of flowers to honor their deaths.”

Hades looked at her fondly. “How could she be so sweet? Whom did she take after? Meg wasn’t like this when I recruited her.” But he was glad this girl respected him. It had been centuries since anyone had prayed to him, much less offered him something. He felt a faint increase in his power and was reminded of the problem he needed to deal with. He would have to go see Echidna.

“Hades? Are you okay?” The Lord of the Dead snapped out of his thoughts. The girl was looking at him with slight concern.

“I'm fine, don't worry,” Hades quickly responded.

He stood up and gazed at the horizon. The sunlight reflected off the sea, creating a breathtaking view. Turning around, he saw the girl still by his side. She motioned for him to follow.

They exited through the gate again and walked along the edge of the cliffs until they reached some rocks. There, they sat down.

“This is where I used to sit and watch the sea every day, waiting to see the warships return.”

“Every day?”

“Yes, every day, until we had to leave. If you look closely at your rock, I started making marks to count the days as they passed. And see those stairs over there? They lead down to the beach—that’s where my mom, Zenos, and the other prince escaped.” As Erianthe explained, her gaze never left the ocean.

“I have to admit, these views are stunning,” the god remarked. Even he had to acknowledge the beauty of this place. Hercules and Meg had chosen a great spot to build a home.

“Close your eyes,” the girl suddenly said.

“Hm?”

“Close your eyes for a moment, please.”

“What for?”

“Just close them. Trust me,” she smiled at him.

Not wanting to argue, Hades closed his eyes.

“Okay, now stretch out your arms.”

“What on earth are you doing, Eri?” he asked as he stretched them out.

“Just wait and see.”

The god felt something on his right arm, specifically around his wrist.

“You can open your eyes now,” the girl said softly.

When he opened them, he saw a bracelet made of the blue flowers from the field wrapped around his wrist.

“I used to make flower crowns, but I didn’t think that would work too well.” She gestured toward his flaming hair, indicating the flowers would likely burn. “I know it’s super cheesy, but this way, you can take a part of the offering with you. It’s also my way of saying thank you.” Erianthe’s cheeks were slightly flushed
Hades looked at the bracelet and smiled.

“Offering accepted.”

They sat there in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. Erianthe was beginning to see Hades as a friend she could trust, despite him being her master. “I must be losing my mind,” she thought. But there was something else—every time she was near him, her pulse quickened. Yet, she couldn’t deny how happy she felt spending time with him.

On the other hand, the lord of the dead watched as the light returned to Erianthe’s eyes. Perhaps this little outing had been worth it. The girl stood up, still holding a few flowers in her hands, but instead of saving them, she tossed them into the sea.

“For Dad, Phil, and Pegasus,” she whispered.

They stayed there for a while longer until Hades reminded her they needed to head back, as Pain and Panic would start asking questions about their absence.

That night, upon returning to her room, Erianthe saw the wooden door frame with the markings of her and her brother’s heights. She realized Hades had gone out of his way to do one of the kindest gestures she’d ever received. Her heart no longer only raced when she was near him—it now quickened even when she simply thought of him.

The underworld had regained its light. Erianthe was returning to whom she used to be. It seemed she had found peace with what had been tormenting her. And it was true—she had finally made peace with herself. Though her heart bore scars, it was no longer broken.

Now, however, it seemed the one who was troubled was none other than the Lord of the Dead himself. Erianthe noticed the change in his behavior: he was more reserved, more irritable. He was worried about something, and the girl knew something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, Hades?” Eri asked as they sat in the library.

“It’s nothing,” the god tried to deflect.

“Hades, I know something’s bothering you. You can tell me.”

“I said it’s nothing!” he snapped. He turned to see the sadness in her expression and sighed. “I overreacted.”

“Look, Eri, don’t worry, but… I think I’m losing my powers.”

“WHAT?”

“Don’t worry. I already have a possible solut—”

“That’s serious, Hades! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Erianthe interrupted.

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it, Eri!”

“I know that, but you don’t have to carry this burden alone. Besides, I could’ve helped you come up with a solution,” she said softly, feeling hurt.

“Hey, really, it’s fine. I’m planning to go tomorrow to the land of the monsters, where Echidna lives.”

“The mother of all monsters? How is she going to help you recover your power?”

“Seventeen years ago, I had many allies and subordinates—mostly monsters. Your mother helped me recruit them, but your father made sure to defeat them.”

“Then I’ll help you get those allies back,” Erianthe said resolutely.

“It’s not that easy! First, I have to meet with Echidna. I need to regain the support of the monsters, and from there, we’ll consider the recruitment strategy.”

Hades was surprised by Eri’s determination. Truthfully, she had become a good friend. “Friend? I mean… subordinate,” he corrected himself.

“So, tomorrow we’re going to the land of the monsters?”

“We?” Hades raised an eyebrow. There was no way Eri was setting foot in that place.

“Of course. I’ll go with you—it’ll be better if—”

“You’re staying here, Erianthe. The land of the monsters is no place for a mortal. Or… do you not know what monsters do to mortals?”

“Well…”

“They eat them! I’m not about to let a pack of disgusting monsters devour you!” the god said irritably. “I think I’m being a bit too overprotective.”

Erianthe laughed. Hades had his moments, but she knew he really cared about her.

“Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll stay here.”

The god nodded, relieved. “It’s for the best. It’s better if I go alone.” Nothing bad was going to happen, right?

The next day, Hades left for the land of the monsters.

Pain and Panic assured him they’d take care of everything in his absence. Erianthe watched him go, worried, but he was Hades, the Lord of the Dead. The feared god of the Underworld, for heaven’s sake—of course, nothing was going to happen to him!

“I hope the meeting with Echidna goes well, Hades,” Eri said. She didn’t know why, but she had a bad feeling.

“Sweetheart, everything’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in no time—don’t make that face,” Hades reassured her with a smile. He was convinced everything would go smoothly.

“Do you promise?”

“What?”

“Promise me everything will go well,” she repeated, more seriously this time.

“Eri, don’t tell me you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Of course I do. It’s what frie—I mean, whatever. Do what you want, but you’d better be back in time for this afternoon’s lesson. We stopped at the most interesting part of the Battle of Thermopylae.”

Eri quickly corrected herself, but not quickly enough to prevent a certain god from catching what she meant to say: friends.

“Is that it? Friends? Is that what this feeling is?” Hades’ pulse quickened, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. He had a mission to complete. They could talk about it later.

“I promise. I’ll be back before the lesson,” he said, and the smile from Hercules’ daughter was the most dazzling thing he’d seen in a long time.

Before vanishing, he looked at Erianthe one more time. And for the first time, he had a reason to return to the Underworld.

The land of the monsters was a place no one in their right mind would dare to set foot in. It was a volcanic region filled with toxic gases, where the sun never shone.The skies were perpetually overcast.

In the middle of that desolate wasteland lay a large cave—the entrance to the monsters’ lair.

Hades had been there several times to strike deals with Echidna and her offspring. He was aware that she held him in high esteem, given that he had not lost his charm.

He approached the entrance and knocked.

“How does Erianthe see me? What does she think of me? Does she find me charming?” thought the god. Lately, most of his thoughts ended up revolving around her, and that feeling he had whenever he thought of her was so pleasant. His thoughts were interrupted by an enthusiastic hug from Echidna.

“Hades! It’s been so long! Come in, come in.”

“Hello, Echidna! How are you? How have you been?”

“Oh, I can’t complain. The war has left many villages and mortals unprotected. They’ve turned into marvelous buffets—no heroes around!”

“I’m glad to hear that! So, your children are doing well?”

“Well, unfortunately, many of them were killed by that hero, Hercules. But ever since he went off to war, my children have been safe again,” Echidna replied cheerfully.

“Oh! Do you remember Cyclops? Sweetheart, bring a drink for the Lord of the Dead!”

“Oh, Echidna, don’t trouble yourself.” Hades didn’t want anything, but Echidna could be very insistent.

“Nonsense! It’s been such a long time since you were my guest. When was the last time? Eighteen, no, seventeen years ago?”

“Yes, it’s been a while. And that’s why I’m here to talk business. I can still count on you as an ally, right?”

“Well, Hades, actually… no. A few years ago, someone came to me with a much better plan, and I’ve pledged my loyalty to that person.”

“What?” The god hadn’t expected this turn of events. “What are you saying, Echidna? Who could have possibly offered you a better deal than mine?”

“Well, Hades, I can’t tell you that. However, they did say that if you ever showed up here… I was to make sure you NEVER left,” she said, her tone suddenly turning menacing.

The god rose from his chair but felt dizzy. “Damn it, what’s happening to me?” He glanced at his cup. She’d put something in his drink—how could he have been so careless? He tried to use his powers, but nothing happened.

“I see the potion they gave me works perfectly. Sweet dreams, Hades. Don’t worry; from now on, we’ll take good care of you.”

The last thing the god thought of before losing consciousness was the image of a certain orange-haired girl smiling.

Erianthe.

Chapter Text

Erianthe was in the throne room, carving a leaf into one of the columns, when she felt a sudden chill, as if someone had called her name. She turned around but saw no one. “I must be imagining things,” she thought, though she could have sworn she’d heard Hades’ voice.

It had been quite some time since the Lord of the Dead had left for his meeting with Echidna, the Mother of All Monsters, and he had yet to return. “I hope everything's going well,” she thought. But she couldn’t deny she was worried.

When it was time for lunch, her gaze drifted to his seat. It was still empty. Erianthe sighed. “He’s still not back.”

“Eri! What’s wrong?” Pain asked her.

“Hades… He still hasn’t come back,” Erianthe said flatly.

The imps exchanged a glance. They had noticed her unease. She had barely touched her plate.

“Don’t worry, Erianthe,” Panic said. “The boss probably got held up in the meeting. Echidna can be very enthusiastic. Besides, she and Hades have always gotten along well.”

Panic didn’t notice how that last comment sparked a hint of jealousy in Erianthe. She quickly dismissed the ridiculous thought.

“But he said he wouldn’t be long. He promised he’d be back in time for our lesson in the library,” she replied, lowering her head.

“You’ll see. He’ll be back before you know it,” Pain reassured her.

Meanwhile, far away, Hades opened his eyes slowly. Immediately, he became aware of the heavy chains binding him. He was in a dark, damp cave, deep within the heart of the monster territory—Echidna’s lair. The walls glowed with a faint, eerie light, while the echoes of inhuman laughter reverberated in the distance.

He tried to move, but every attempt only made the chains tighten further around his wrists, sapping his energy as though they were enchanted. “How did I let myself get captured?” he thought furiously.

He cursed himself for drinking what Echidna had offered. He should have been more careful. As he shifted in frustration, something slipped from the folds of his toga. It was the bracelet of flowers Erianthe had made for him, now resting in his lap.

He watched as the flowers began to wither, but still, the bracelet held a strange allure. It symbolized an offering—something rare for him. Despite being a god, no one ever made offerings to him or prayed to him.

But what he liked most about this offering was that it reminded him of her. Not just her scent, but her beauty. Closing his eyes, he pictured her in his mind. It was strange—he couldn’t stop thinking about that little mortal, especially that radiant smile of hers.

And now he was here again, trapped. But this time, there was a significant difference—he wasn’t in his realm, and that was a major disadvantage. “Damn it, how am I supposed to get out of here?” the god thought. He kept running through possible escape plans in his mind, but none seemed viable. He was a prisoner in the monsters' domain, and worst of all, Echidna had allied herself with someone who had offered her something far better than anything the Underworld could provide. That thought made his blood boil.

But what enraged him the most was that he had nothing and no one to help him get out of there.

“Hades! Finally, you're awake,” came the voice of the Mother of All Monsters.

“Echidna…” Hades' voice was hoarse and weak.

“Forgive me for not putting you in a more comfortable room, but this is the only place I could imprison you. Considering your power, these chains are special. They keep your abilities in check and even drain them. They were made especially for you.”

“You've gone to a lot of trouble, haven't you? I don’t believe for a second that you made these chains yourself.”

“We didn’t, but our new ally did. Someone who knows you VERY well,” the monster replied with a malicious grin. “You’re going to be here for a long time, Lord of the Dead.”

The agreed-upon time had come, and Hades was still nowhere to be seen. By now, Erianthe knew something was wrong. Though the imps had reassured her that the god was likely caught up chatting with the Mother of All Monsters, several hours had passed. “Is this normal? Does he usually stay away this long?” she wondered, but a knot was forming in her stomach—a bad feeling she couldn’t shake.

She left the library and went to find Pain and Panic. They needed to come up with a plan—a plan to enter the monsters' realm and get Hades out of there.

“Okay, let’s review the plan: we borrow Hades’ chariot, fly incognito to Echidna’s lair, sneak in without being seen, free Hades, sneak out again without anyone spotting us, and fly back to the Underworld. Perfect, right? A flawless plan.”

The imps exchanged nervous glances before turning back to look at Eri.

“We’re going to die,” they said in unison.

“Guys, no! We have to believe in the plan; otherwise, Hades will stay trapped in that place.”

“And how do you know something’s happened to him?” Pain asked.

“I don’t know,” Erianthe admitted. “But when I was kidnapped on the surface, didn’t you have a feeling that something had happened to me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is the same thing. If you hadn’t come for me, I probably would’ve been sold as a slave. If Hades hasn’t come back, it means something might have happened to him. That’s why we have to go.”

Erianthe certainly had a point. The boss might actually be in trouble, and they were the only ones who knew where he was, making them his only hope. “If he’s not in trouble, he’s going to mutilate us,” Panic thought. “He’s definitely going to mutilate us if we take Eri with us,” Pain said quietly.

“Eri, before we go, it would be better if you put on some armor,” the green imp advised.

“Okay, but I don’t have armor,” Erianthe replied, confused. “Where am I supposed to find armor?”

A short while later, the three of them set off in Hades’ chariot, with Erianthe now clad in a set of armor and a helmet that Pain and Panic had provided—without telling her where they had gotten it. Fortunately, the imps had been to Echidna’s lair before and also knew how to steer the god’s chariot.

Erianthe had to admit that Hades’ chariot was unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was made from a combination of forged iron and wood, entirely black. But the most striking feature was the front of the chariot, which bore a theatrical mask with an angry expression. Like the throne room, it had sharp, angular designs, and at the back were a pair of black wings that added the finishing touch to the chariot. It was entirely unique and original.

“You look like a hero in that armor,” Panic teased.

“What are you talking about? I don’t look anything like a hero,” Eri snapped, clearly annoyed.

“Except for the helmet, you’re the spitting image of Hercules,” Pain added.

Neither of them said anything more about whom she resembled, especially after Eri shot them a deadly glare. “I don’t look like him,” she thought, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, she had to admit she did look like a hero—and it irritated her.

The journey was long, so long that by the time they reached the monsters’ territory, it was already dusk. Pain and Panic suggested that it would be best to hide the chariot somewhere far from the monsters’ lair. They descended into a canyon in the rocky landscape, leaving the chariot behind. From that point on, they would continue on foot.

Night had fallen, and unlike the Underworld, which was lit by the glow of torches, the monsters’ territory was illuminated by active volcanoes. Rivers of lava flowed through the land, radiating intense heat. Breathing became difficult for the three companions, but they weren’t far from the monsters’ lair—they could already see it in the distance.

“Help! Someone help me!”

The three froze in their tracks at the sound of the voice.

“Please, someone help!”

They weren’t imagining it; someone was crying out for help.

“We should get closer and see who it is,” Eri murmured.

“What if it’s a trap? Or worse, what if it’s a monster?” Panic replied nervously.

“Come on, don’t be cowards,” Eri said, carefully leading the way toward the source of the voice.

The voice sounded feminine. “Could it be a human?” Erianthe wondered, surprised that any mortal besides herself would be in the monsters’ territory.

They approached what appeared to be a crevice wide enough for someone—or something—to have fallen into. Erianthe cautiously peeked over the edge and spotted someone clinging to a jagged rock on the cliffside. Below them, a river of lava flowed ominously.

Eri immediately began to plan a rescue.

“Guys, I need you to summon some ropes. Quickly!” she ordered.

“But, Eri…”

“There’s no time for buts. I’m going to get her out of there,” she said with such determination that Pain and Panic immediately complied. A pair of ropes materialized, and Eri got to work descending the wall to save the person dangling above the lava.

“Don’t worry! I’m coming for you. Don’t move,” Eri called out to the girl.

The crevice was even hotter than the surface, but Erianthe didn’t hesitate. Luckily, she didn’t have to descend far to reach her. She moved so quickly that she didn’t even take a good look at the girl—her focus was solely on getting the rope tied around her waist.

“Take my hand. My friends will pull us up, so I need you to grab the rope with one hand and use your legs to push yourself up while they pull us,” Eri instructed firmly.

“O-Okay,” the girl stammered, following her instructions unquestionably.

When Eri took hold of her hand, she noticed something odd—a scaly texture. “Scales?” she thought, but she brushed it off. First things first.

“Pull us up!” Erianthe shouted.

The two imps began pulling, and the girls climbed the rocky wall until they reached the edge.

“We've got you! Almost there,” Eri assured the girl with a smile. Once they made it to the top, both girls crouched down, catching their breath.

“E-Eri,” stammered Pain.

“Yes?” Eri responded cautiously. There was something in the purple imp’s tone that she didn’t like. “What is it?”

“You’d better step back and don’t look at her,” Panic said.

“Guys, what on earth is going on with you?” Erianthe didn’t understand their strange behavior.

“She won't turn to stone if she looks at me. That’s my sister Medusa’s power, not mine,” came the voice of the girl they had rescued.

Eri turned to look at her, and standing beside her was a girl with snakes for hair. Her skin was pale and seemed to have what looked like scales, but upon closer inspection, it appeared more like reptilian skin. However, her eyes seemed strangely human, even though their golden hue made them intensely striking. She was a gorgon.

The poor gorgon looked at Erianthe fearfully, and Erianthe returned the gaze with some apprehension. But, as she had in other situations, Eri decided to trust her intuition.

“My name is Erianthe. Nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand.

“P-please don’t hurt me,” the gorgon stammered, watching the mortal with suspicion.

“I’m not going to hurt you, really.”

“What do you mean you’re not? You’re a hero! You’ve come to cut off my head!”

“What? No, no, no. I’m not a hero. I’m just wearing this armor because they made me.” Eri assured her.

“Hey! Don’t blame us; we gave it to you for your safety.” Pain reproached with exasperation.

“See? I’m not here to hurt you, honestly. What’s your name?” Erianthe asked in a kind tone.

The gorgon studied the mortal and had to admit that she saw gentleness in her gaze. Her smile was bright and warm.

“Euryale. My name is Euryale,” the gorgon answered, now calmer.

“Nice to meet you, Euryale,” Eri said, shaking her hand. “What were you doing down there?”

“I was looking for minerals to make pigments.”

“Are you an artist?”

“Oh, no, no. I don’t actually do anything professionally, but in my spare time, I like to design clothes and sew.”

“Really? I’d love to see your designs. Your tunic is beautiful. Did you make it yourself? The fabric is exquisite, and the embroidery is so intricate and delicate.”

“Th-thank you, but it’s nothing special.”

“I think you have real talent.”

The gorgon couldn’t believe how kind the girl standing in front of her was, and not only that, she genuinely admired the work she had made herself. It was the first time someone had acknowledged her for something other than fighting.

“Thank you for saving me, but I don’t want to be rude. What is a mortal doing here with two imps?”

The three companions exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to say. They couldn’t simply tell her that they were there to rescue Hades.

The gorgon observed them closely and noticed how nervous the three of them had become. Studying the imps, she realized they were subordinates of the Underworld. The beautiful mortal in front of her clearly went along with them, which meant they were there to rescue someone.

“You’re here for Hades, aren’t you?” Euryale blurted out.

“Huh?” Erianthe was becoming very nervous. “Crap, we’ve been caught.”

“No, no—we, uh, no… this isn’t.”

“I’m not going to say anything.”

“Why?”

“Because you saved me from falling into the lava river.”

“Thank you…”

“But I’ll warn you, you won’t get very far. Especially you—you smell like a mortal, and that will be your death sentence,” Euryale cautioned her.

“I have to go in and find him,” Eri said firmly, her voice filled with determination, surprising the gorgon. She liked this mortal.

“My sister guards the prisoners’ cavern, and I assure you, she won’t show any mercy.”

“I have to try.” Erianthe’s gaze was resolute again. “She’s so stubborn,” Euryale thought.

“All right, you know what? I’ll take you to him.”

Everyone stared at her in shock. They hadn’t expected this turn of events.

“Thank you, thank you!” the girl exclaimed joyfully.

Euryale motioned for them to follow her. She would take them through a secret entrance around the cave, an access point in the western area. But before they left, she grabbed a handful of ash from the ground and smeared it on Erianthe. “So you won’t smell as much as a mortal.”

“Eri, but what are you doing? What if she betrays us?” Panic whispered to her.

“I know, but we don’t have any other choice. She’s our only hope.”

From what they saw, the main entrance was teeming with massive monsters that wouldn’t hesitate to attack and devour Erianthe. Internally, the girl was grateful they had encountered Euryale.

“Are there always this many monsters?”

“You’ve come at one of the worst times. It’s Chimera’s birthday, and Mom has called the whole family together for a party.”

“Seriously?” Eri said in disbelief.

“We’re jinxed…” Panic muttered.

When they left the main entrance behind, they quickly spotted a large crack in the rocks that led into the cave.

“This way. It’s the entrance. It’ll take us more quickly to the lower levels where the prisoners are kept. Right now, it’s just Hades. There are several patrols, but we’ll avoid them and wait for the shift change. We need to be careful; my sister takes the next shift. Are you ready?”

“Ready!” the three answered in unison.

They entered the crack and carefully descended through narrow passageways. Luck was on their side—they didn’t encounter any patrols.

“They’re probably busy preparing for the party,” Euryale guessed.

“Good thing. We’ve gotten lucky that security has been reduced.”

“Hades is at the end of the corridor. Right next to it, there’s a small shed where they keep the keys to the chains. They leave them there during the shift change... Stop, hide! Someone’s coming,” Euryale warned them.

They hid in one of the adjacent passages, all except for the gorgon. “What is she doing?”

“Hello, sister. What are you doing here?” they heard an irritated voice.

“Hi, Stheno. I came to remind you that Chimera’s party starts in an hour.”

“I know, but I’m not going to that annoying party. Besides, who else is going to watch over Hades?”

“If you want, I can take over for you,” she suggested. It would be a good chance for Erianthe to free the god.

“You? No way! You couldn’t even guard a fly, little sister,” Stheno replied, speaking to her younger sibling with disdain.

Erianthe peeked and saw that Euryale’s older sister had her back turned. Stheno was tall, as tall as Hades, and muscular, armed with a sword.

Euryale’s face was a picture of heartbreak. Her sister’s words clearly hurt her, and it showed in her expression. She looked as if she were about to cry.

“Fine, sister. You’re right, I’m useless at everything I do. But still, come with me for a moment. Mom has prepared a stone tablet, and she wants us to write a message for Chimera.” Euryale was running out of ideas. “I hope this works,” she thought.

“Are you kidding me? What a piece of crap. Fine, tell me where I’m supposed to write that stupid message to Chimera. Mom is always insisting on these unnecessary things,” Stheno said irritably as she adjusted her sword. But something in her expression suggested she was considering it.

“It’s not optional. You know how Mom gets when we don’t fulfill her requests. Besides, if you come with me for a bit, you’ll get a break from this boring guard duty. Don’t worry, no one’s going to touch Hades during that time,” Euryale added, forcing a kind smile.

Stheno let out a deep sigh, as if even thinking about agreeing weighed heavily on her. But she finally nodded.

“Fine, but this better not waste too much of my time. Let’s go quickly,” she said at last.

Erianthe and the imps, watching from their hiding spot, let out a small sigh of relief. Euryale’s cleverness had worked. The gorgon glanced toward their hiding place and gave them a slight gesture, signaling them to move quickly once she and her sister disappeared down the corridor.

“Let’s go, guys,” Hercules’ daughter whispered.

The imps nodded but insisted Eri stay between them. If they ran into anyone, they could transform into something useful and fight. Erianthe wasn’t about to argue, especially not when they were in the middle of a mission to free Hades. Their priority was to rescue the god and get out of there.

As soon as Euryale left with Stheno, Erianthe, Pain, and Panic slipped silently out of their hiding spot. They hurried toward the key shed, careful not to make any noise. Erianthe’s heart pounded, not just from the tension of the moment, but also from knowing she was getting closer to finding Hades.

“There’s the shed!” murmured Pain, pointing with one of his tiny claws.

The area was dimly lit, but thanks to the faint glow from a few torches, Erianthe could make out a small cabinet inside the shed. Several keys hung from it, and one of them stood out for its size. It had engravings of chains and bones, perfectly matching the aesthetic of the Underworld.

“That must be the key,” said Eri, quickly stepping into the shed and grabbing it. She handed it to Pain.

“Let’s go!” she urged the imps, who were keeping watch over the hallway.

The group moved swiftly toward the location Euryale had indicated. At the end of the corridor, they saw him: Hades. The god was chained to the wall, his figure appearing weak and defeated. He hadn’t noticed their presence; his attention was focused on something resting in the folds of his tunic.

“I’ll go check on the boss,” Panic whispered.

The green imp cautiously approached him, and as Hades raised his gaze, he saw them. His eyes showed disbelief, as though what he was seeing was a hallucination or some kind of vision. He stared confusedly at Eri.

“A hero?” he managed to say, his voice weak.

Erianthe’s heart sank, seeing him so vulnerable. She hated seeing him like this. Without hesitation, she removed her helmet, and Hades’ eyes widened in shock.
On impulse, the girl ran toward him and threw her arms around him.

“It’s me, idiot. Who else would it be?” she said with a smile.

The god gave her a soft, affectionate smile. She was here. She was by his side. But then, reality hit him—she was here… in monster territory! His expression changed as anger flared.

“What the hell are you doing here? Do you want to get yourself killed? Who let you come here, huh? When I get out of these chains, I’m going to make sure both of you suffer for this!” he snapped angrily.

The two imps gulped, knowing they were in trouble. Pain quickly stepped forward and started working on unlocking Hades’ shackles, when suddenly they heard a familiar voice…

“Well, well, look at what we have here,” Stheno said with a lunatic grin, clearly thrilled that her shift would have some action after all.

Chapter Text

Erianthe was afraid. The gorgon was staring at them with a psychotic look on her face, but what really grabbed her attention was how she was dragging Euryale's bloodied body like she'd beaten her to death.

“Did you think I wouldn’t smell you, human? You reek far too much to go unnoticed. But the bigger disgrace is that this useless one tried to sneak you in.” With that, she hit the unconscious gorgon again. “Get ready because you’re next.”

“Come on, Pain, set me free!” Hades exclaimed nervously. That lunatic was going to kill Eri, and the Lord of the Dead was filled with anguish.

Hades felt the girl tighten her embrace around him, clinging closer. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to protect her. However, something had changed. He noticed she was trembling, but not from terror—she was angry. He could tell by how her expression had shifted, from astonishment at the maniac’s entrance to pure fury as soon as the gorgon began beating the other one she was dragging.

Something the Lord of the Dead didn’t expect was for Hercules’ daughter to pull a coin from her clothes. She flipped the coin, and although she fumbled a bit, she managed to catch it midair and check the result— “heads.” She stood up and said decisively:

“Panic, I want you to conjure a chain.” The little demon gawked at her. “Quickly!”

Panic hurried to produce the chain, while Pain began removing one of the shackles binding the god to the wall.

“Come on, little sister! I thought you would fight harder, but you're just like everyone else: weak and fragile.” At that moment, Euryale opened her eyes, pain shooting through her as her elder sister kicked her in the stomach, causing her to vomit blood. Gasping, she looked at her sister, who returned the gaze—but unlike her, she was looking with disgust, as she always did.

It hurt her that Stheno constantly pressured her to be a warrior, to fight, something she had never enjoyed. That was why they had never bonded and had never treated each other as sisters. Even when Medusa’s head was severed, she never saw Stheno shed a single tear for their sibling’s death. So, it was no surprise that her sister was now mercilessly beating her.

She saw Stheno ready to strike again, this time aiming to drive one of her infamous bronze claws into her. Euryale closed her eyes, bracing for impact, but it never came. When she opened her eyes, she saw that a chain had caught the arm, preventing the blow.

Shocked, the gorgon lying on the ground looked toward the source of the chain. She saw her. The mortal, Erianthe, had thrown the chain and was holding Stheno’s right arm back. The girl glared at the standing gorgon angrily, while the latter couldn’t believe what was happening—the mortal was challenging her. “Insolent!”

The demons and Hades couldn’t believe what Erianthe was doing. For the first time in his life, the god felt despair. He was still chained, and his foolish subordinate was facing a monster—a particularly dangerous one, the deadliest of the three gorgons.

“Why are you so slow, Pain? Stop getting distracted and free me!” He wasn’t going to lose Eri; he didn’t want to lose her.

“I’m working on it, Your Highness!” Pain was growing increasingly nervous.

“Hahahaha, this must be a joke. You? A puny mortal, daring to challenge me? Don’t you know who I am?” Stheno shouted as she grabbed the chain, pulling it to drag the girl closer and strike her. What she didn’t expect was for the girl to counteract. Eri jumped and landed a solid kick to her face.

Erianthe knocked the gorgon to the ground with the kick. She didn’t back down, even though she was panting from the effort. Her body was tense, and her gaze burned with rage. Both demons, Hades and Euryale were stunned by what had just happened.

“Don’t underestimate me, gorgon. You’re the one who doesn’t know who I am, but I’m not going to let you be a bully,” she replied firmly, even though inside she felt her strength wavering.

From his position, Hades watched in disbelief. It was the first time he had seen Erianthe like this—defiant and full of fury. The demons, for their part, were dumbstruck. “Memo to self: never make Erianthe angry,” thought the god as he clenched his fists while Pain and Panic struggled to remove his shackles.

Eri turned briefly to Euryale, who was still on the ground, injured but conscious.

“Are you okay?” she asked, though her voice betrayed a faint groan. The girl clutched her leg, noticing the blood streaming from a deep cut. She had barely managed to dodge one of Stheno’s attacks.

“Eri! You’re bleeding,” Euryale exclaimed worriedly.

“Don’t worry about me.” Eri forced a smile to reassure her, even as a sharp pain shot through her leg. She could endure it for a while, but the gorgon was a skilled and swift fighter. She hadn’t even seen the claw attack coming and barely evaded it. “We need to get out of here,” she thought. They were disadvantaged.

“Guys, how’s it going?” she called out.

“We're almost there,” Pain replied. The imps were doing everything they could, but the last shackle resisted their efforts, leaving Hades on the verge of exploding from sheer frustration.

Suddenly, Stheno got up with a roar and lunged at Erianthe. This time, the gorgon was faster. The mortal didn’t have time to dodge and took a punch that made her stumble. However, instead of backing away, Erianthe wiped the blood from her mouth, smirked confidently, and struck back with a punch carrying all the strength she had left.

The sound of the impact echoed through the corridor. They began fighting hand-to-hand, with Stheno unleashing brutal attacks while Erianthe barely managed to block them. The gorgon was enjoying herself—no one had given her a good fight in a long time, and this brat was tough, but she had no intention of losing.

“I didn’t think I’d have so much fun with you, kid!” the gorgon exclaimed, her sinister smile widening. But as Erianthe began to falter, Stheno saw her chance. “Now or never,” she thought as she noticed the mortal slowing down, and drew a sword from her belt.

Erianthe was at her limit. She had thought she could handle it, but she hadn’t anticipated the gorgon being so strong and fast. Luckily, her armor had absorbed some blows. Still, it was clear she was disadvantaged. Exhaustion had taken over, and she didn’t notice when Stheno drew her sword. Her reflexes weren’t quick enough to dodge the attack, but it never landed.

A powerful hand stopped the gorgon’s arm in its tracks.

There, standing between the gorgon and the mortal, was the god of the dead, gripping Stheno’s arm. His furious gaze was fixed on the monster, and although his powers were still suppressed, his superhuman strength remained intact. He began squeezing the arm, forcing the gorgon to writhe in pain.

“Did you think I’d sit idly by while you tried to kill her?” His voice, cold and commanding, made the gorgon hesitate for the first time. “Eri, get out of here,” Hades ordered, his tone now calmer.

“But Hades…” She didn’t want to leave the god behind now that he was free.

“Do as I say!” With a swift move, Hades twisted Stheno’s arm, forcing her to drop the sword, which clattered to the ground with a metallic echo that reverberated throughout the chamber. The gorgon let out a scream of pain as the deity threw her against the wall, leaving her dazed.

Hades was panting from the exhaustion; the chains had drained his power, but his fury was palpable. Hercules’ daughter stood awed by his strength. Even without his powers, he was formidable. “He’s so strong,” she thought, the only other person she’d seen with such strength being her father. But it made sense—a god like Hades would naturally possess superhuman might.

Erianthe shook the thought from her head and quickly approached Euryale, helping her to her feet with the support of the imps. Although her injured leg stung, she gritted her teeth and began moving forward.

“We’re not leaving you here, Hades!” Erianthe exclaimed, her voice firm but tinged with worry.

“Erianthe! Don’t be stubborn!” the god roared, his gaze never leaving Stheno. “Go! Now!”

Reluctantly, Erianthe obeyed, helping Euryale walk while the imps led them down the corridor they had come from. But just as they were leaving, Stheno’s voice rang out once more.

“Wait! You’re not getting away!” she shouted, directing her words at Erianthe. She still wanted to fight the mortal.

“Hello? Don’t drop your guard—I’m your opponent!” Hades intercepted the gorgon with a direct blow that sent her crashing to the ground again. But it was clear the battle was far from over. “Keep going! I’ll catch up with you,” Hades said with a confident smile, even as sweat dripped from his brow.

For a second, Erianthe looked him in the eyes and nodded.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“Babe, are you worried about me?” the god teased, secretly enjoying the fact that the girl cared about him.

Eri couldn’t help but smile before turning away and pushing forward with all her strength. Hades could really act like a big kid occasionally.

As the group made their escape, the shouts, and the sounds of the fight between Hades and Stheno echoed behind them. Each step they took felt heavier, but Erianthe knew they couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when they were so close to making it out alive.

“Euryale, where are we going?” Eri asked.

“We’ll hide in my workshop for now. I can tend to your wounds there,” the gorgon murmured weakly; it was clear she was struggling to walk.

“I’m fine, really. Just tell us where the exit is.”

“That’s the problem. Because of Chimera’s birthday, the place will be full of monsters. Also, your human scent is too obvious. You’ll need something stronger to cover it up, and a disguise too. Right now, you look like a hero, no offense.”

“Why does everyone think I’m a hero?” Eri responded, slightly irritated.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, the god of the dead was battling the gorgon, who continued to take his blows without stopping. Hades felt truly weak, but he had to fight and endure—if he didn’t, that psychopath would go after Erianthe. Yet, it seemed Stheno didn’t care about the beating she was taking; if anything, she seemed to enjoy it.

Stheno was euphoric—ecstatic, even. She had always sought fights, training herself to become a warrior. And now, at last, she was facing someone truly worth her time—a god, no less. Hades, lord of the dead. But what fascinated her most wasn’t the god—it was the mortal.

That mortal’s gaze was a mix of fear, determination, and fury, but she also caught a glimmer of satisfaction in it. That human was enjoying the fight, too, and that was something rare to find. Finally, Esteno had found a worthy opponent. And although the god was giving her a hard time, she wanted to go after that brat and claim her victory.

“I don’t like using this trick, but I need to get out of here, and Hades is in my way.” She always carried a small pouch at her belt, and from it, she pulled out a few orbs.

She looked at the god, and he stared back at her, trying to predict her next move so he could counter it. Truth be told, Hades fought well; the years of battling titans in his youth were evident. Rumor had it that among his siblings, he was the best strategist, the one who could analyze a situation most effectively.

“What a pain. I need reinforcements, but first, I’ll go after ‘your little friend.’” With a mocking smile, she threw the orbs to the ground. “It’s been a pleasure fighting you, Lord of the Dead.”

Suddenly, the entire chamber filled with smoke, and the god couldn’t see anything. “What the hell! That lunatic tricked me,” he thought, trying to sense if he could intercept the gorgon, but there was nothing. His mind drifted to a certain orange-haired girl. “Eri.”

The girls, along with the imps, were still navigating the network of tunnels until they reached a part of the cavern with precarious cliffs—a single misstep could send them falling into the abyss.

“You live around here?” Erianthe asked the gorgon.

“It’s the most remote area. Besides, no one bothers me here, and I can do whatever I want.”

“But… you must be lonely.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to be alone,” Euryale replied with a melancholy tone that didn’t go unnoticed by the mortal.

“Ah! It stings,” the pain in her leg was worsening. She turned and saw she’d left a trail of blood—a very obvious one. “At this rate, I’m going to bleed out.”

“Eri!” the imps shouted. Pain conjured up a cloth to wrap around the girl’s wound. She was getting paler by the second.

“Hang in there, Erianthe. We’ll get there soon. I have an ointment that will help with that cut,” the gorgon assured her.

They were so distracted, they didn’t notice Stheno charging toward them at full speed.

“Miss me, losers?” the gorgon’s voice echoed through the cavern. When they turned, the group saw the monster’s sadistic smile and how her gaze was fixed on Erianthe. “You, mortal. I’m not done with you.”

“Stheno, stop! Don’t hurt them,” Euryale pleaded desperately.

“Shut up, Euryale! You’re a disgrace and a useless fool.”

“Don’t talk to her like that! She’s your sister, isn’t she? Show some respect!” Erianthe’s anger flared at the gorgon’s attitude. How could she treat her family that way?

“I don’t care if she’s my sister. That means nothing to me. Family doesn’t make you stronger or give you more power. They’re useless—especially her, who has no interest in fighting or hunting. All she likes to do is sew!”

“By the way, what did you do to Hades?”

“Don’t worry about him right now. Your god is in one piece.” The gorgon grabbed the girl by her tunic. “Shall we pick up where we left off?”

“I’m ready,” Eri said, pushing the gorgon to create some distance and gain an advantage.

Euryale, along with Pain and Panic, watched the scene with worry. Erianthe didn’t stand a chance, especially with her injury.

Stheno was the first to attack, throwing a kick at Eri, who managed to block it and counter with a kick of her own. Hand-to-hand combat was her forte. Agile and quick, she usually relied on her speed. But with this opponent, she couldn’t find any weakness in her defense. Stheno easily blocked her attacks without breaking a sweat. Clearly, the gorgon outmatched her in every way.

A punch sent Eri to the ground. Stunned, she fell to her knees, and the gorgon took the opportunity to grab her by the hair and deliver another punch. The pain Erianthe felt was as if she’d crashed headfirst into a wall at full speed.

“Ah!” she cried out, writhing in pain on the ground.

“What’s the matter, weakling? Is that it? Did I ruin your pretty little face, and now you’re done? What a disappointment. I thought you’d put up more of a fight!” the monster sneered, preparing to kick her in the stomach. But the imps and Euryale threw themselves at her to stop her.

“Leave her alone!” shouted Stheno’s younger sister.

“You’re such a bully!” yelled Pain.

“Don’t hurt our friend anymore!” added Panic.

Annoyed, the gorgon easily shrugged off her sister and the imps.

“You’re all trash! Stay out of our fight,” Stheno snarled, visibly unhinged.

But Erianthe took advantage of the distraction to kick her, knocking her unbalanced.

They were at the edge of the precipice, and with the dim light, the bottom of the abyss was invisible. The gorgon slipped and fell, but as she tumbled, she managed to grab the mortal’s arm. “If I fall, she’s coming with me,” she thought.

“You’re coming with me, mortal! Let’s go to Tartarus together!” Stheno screamed.

Erianthe didn’t have time to react. She couldn’t grab onto anything and watched as Stheno vanished into the darkness, dragging her down with her.

Time seemed too slow. She held her breath, her stomach churning. She felt like vomiting. Her pulse raced faster and faster. Gradually, the imps and Euryale disappeared from her view, as they screamed her name in horror, unable to do anything to save her.

Hercules' daughter accepted the fact that her time had come. But she didn’t want to die—not now, not after making it this far. There was so much left to experience; this couldn’t be the end. Tears streamed down her cheek.

“I don’t want to die,” she murmured, closing her eyes as if this were a nightmare she could wake up from. So distressed was she that she didn’t notice her fall had come to an abrupt stop.

“You’re not going to die, Eri,” a familiar voice said.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a blue flame at the edge of the abyss. “Hades?” she thought, unable to comprehend why she was floating. She felt something around her waist—a black chain. Hades had transfigured one of his arms into a smoky chain to catch her.

Her lungs reminded her that she had been holding her breath, and she gasped for air irregularly, still in the midst of a panic attack. The god hurried to pull her back to solid ground.

Hades took in all the cuts and bruises she’d gotten during her fight with the crazed gorgon, and the terror was still etched on her face. He couldn’t help himself—instead of setting her down, he hugged her. She returned the gesture.

This was becoming a habit—a very pleasant one.

“Thank you, Hades,” murmured Erianthe.

“I've told you a thousand times, Eri. Don't be so impulsive.” Hades said, “Someday you're going to get killed, and I won't be there to save you.”

His tone was stern, but it carried the concern and distress he had felt just minutes earlier when he saw her falling into the abyss.

“Sorry, I didn’t think this would happen.”

She knew her plan to get him out of there had been improvised and that she hadn’t thought through the risk it posed, not only to herself but to everyone. Hades was right—she was too impulsive. Her friends always told her the same thing: she acted more with her heart than her head, and one day, it was bound to cause problems.

“You can put me down now, Hades. Euryale was going to take us to her workshop to hide.”

“Now that I’ve got you in my arms, I’m not going to let you go,” the god teased. The moment he said it, Erianthe's heart started racing again, and this time, it wasn’t because she had been falling into the void moments before.

“Ahem.” The moment was broken when they heard someone clearing their throat behind them.

Turning around, they saw the little imps looking annoyed and Euryale blushing as though she had stumbled upon something very intimate.

“Boss, not to interrupt your little moment, but we need to get going. We don’t want another crazy monster trying to fight or, worse, eat Eri,” Pena remarked.

“He’s right,” Eri added. “We need to leave. Euryale, we’ll follow you. Lead the way to your workshop.”

The gorgon snapped out of her daze and led them down the path to her quarters. It was a secluded area, and, like much of the surrounding terrain, it was dark. There weren’t any lava streams nearby—or at least, there were very few, as evident by the lack of intense heat and the absence of that sulfuric smell.

Euryale opened the doors to her workshop, simple pinewood doors. She explained that none of her family shared her passion for sewing, so she had to move away from the other monsters' residence to have a space like this.

When they entered, they were surprised to see such a colorful space, full of fabrics in various hues and even accessories like helmets, jewelry, boots, and sandals. Everything was unique and eye-catching, yet stunning.

“Well, welcome to my workshop. You can sit over there. I’ll grab a first-aid kit for your wounds, Eri,” Euryale said.

“Wow, it’s like a rainbow slapped us in the face. So much color,” Hades commented.

“Well, I like it. I think it’s pretty,” Eri retorted. “Some of these fabrics are gorgeous.”

“Of course you would like them; you’re into all colors,” the god teased.

“Ha! That’s not true. For example, I don’t like yellow. I think it doesn’t suit me.”

“Didn’t know you were so vain.”

“Believe it or not, I like fashion, but, you know, there are more important things than staying trendy, doing fancy hairstyles, or wearing makeup.”

Hades looked at her thoughtfully. To be fair, he had never seen Erianthe waste time on those things. She always kept it simple, but she didn’t need anything else; she was already stunning as she was. “How would she look if she dressed up or styled her hair?” the god wondered, his mind wandering to visions of the young woman dressed like a goddess. “Stop it, Hades!”

“Hey, Eri,” Panic asked. “What was that about flipping the coin? We’ve never seen you do that before.”

“Well, it was my first time fighting someone in front of you. It’s a tradition: if it lands heads, luck is on my side; tails means leaving it to the gods.” Erianthe explained.

“Really? That’s interesting. In Thebes, they say it’s pretty common, especially since the Sons of the Revolution started doing it. Their leader did it first, and now all his followers do it too. Honestly, they’re admirable, fighting against that shady king,” Euryale said.

“How do you know about the Children of the Revolution?” Eri asked cautiously. Hades noticed her sudden tension.

“Oh! Well, I’m a big fan of theirs, actually. They fight against adversity and the system. I wish I could do the same here, but it’s just me. Anyway, enough about me. So, are you from Thebes? Have you ever seen any of their founding members?”

“Haha, yeah, I’m from Thebes. And no, I don’t know them, but I’ve seen them a few times,” the girl lied. Even though Euryale didn’t seem like a threat, Eri knew better than to reveal certain things for safety’s sake.

The gorgon approached Eri and Hades with a jar of ointment for her wounds.

“What’s that?” Hades asked suspiciously.

“It’s an ointment made from my blood,” Euryale explained.

“WHAT? Your blood?” Eri exclaimed.

“Gorgon blood has various properties. If it’s drawn from the right side of my body, it’s healing. From the left, it’s a potent poison that kills instantly.”

“And how do I know this is the good blood, and you’re not trying to kill her?” Hades said, mistrustful.

“Look, I get that you don’t trust me, Hades, but Erianthe saved me several times today. This is the least I can do. You can even test it on yourself. For a god, poisonous blood would just irritate the skin.” The gorgon’s gaze was sincere. Even so, Hades took a bit of the ointment and applied it to his arm to ensure it was safe; he wasn’t about to let anything happen to Erianthe.

Seeing no reaction, he nodded for Euryale to proceed.

“But Euryale, use it on yourself first. I can wait, really,” the girl insisted.

“Me? I don’t have any wounds anymore, see?” The gorgon showed her unblemished skin.

“But how? You were covered in bruises and blood!” Hercules' daughter exclaimed, astonished.

“Haha! My regeneration is quick. Perks of having gorgon blood.”

“So, your older sister?”

“You think that fall would have killed her? She’ll be out of commission for a good while, but she’s not dead.”

The group fell silent, worried about whether that lunatic might reappear. Noticing their reaction, the gorgon reassured them that the place was secret. Her sister had never bothered to learn where her workshop was.

“And my scent?” Eri asked.

“Don’t worry. This place reeks of pigments and other things I use for bleaching; your scent blends in. I doubt anyone can track you here. Besides, everyone is busy with the party.”

As the gorgon spoke, she applied the ointment to the girl, who occasionally winced at the stinging sensation. “As I mentioned earlier, we’ll need to get you a disguise.”

“A disguise? The god asked.”

“We’ll have to sneak into the party to leave Mother’s lair, and the best way to do that is by blending in and using one of the exits,” Euryale explained.

“And expose ourselves to the monsters? I barely have any powers right now; my subordinates can only shape-shift, and she’s human! They’ll devour her!” Hades was getting irritated.

“And what’s your suggestion?” The gorgon asked.

“Well, I, uh…, leave tomorrow?”

“By then, they’ll know you’re unchained, and the surveillance will be extreme. It would be much harder to get out.” She made him see the gravity of the situation and that this was their only option. Eri looked up at her from her lap. She trusted the gorgon.

“Fine, fine! You’re right. You win.”

“Yeah, if Erianthe looks at me like that, I can’t say no,” the god thought. In the end, he had to agree to this absurd plan.

“Alright, it’s done. You should feel as good as new in no time. Can you stand up?” Euryale smiled at the girl, who had regained some color and looked healthier.

Hades was reluctant to let her go, but the girl looked at him and gave him a tender smile. That gesture alone was enough for the god to let her stand on her own.

“Okay, where do we start? Let’s find something for you to wear so you can leave without raising suspicion,” said Euryale.

“Did you make all this? I mean, it’s fascinating.” Eri said, “You're excellent at making leather things!” as she looked at the gorgon's bracelet and belt.

“Thank you! The armor, not so much. I’m not great with metalwork.”

“I could teach you a thing or two. I’m not the best, but my friend Patroclus is amazing at forging,” Erianthe said, her tone tinged with sadness.

The majority of those present did not take notice; however, the Lord of the Dead did. He was slowly learning more about the girl, and from her expression, he could tell something made her sad. Still, it annoyed him that it had to do with that brat from Thebes.

“I have an idea! Seeing this armor gave me a thought: you two could wear disguises. Hades, you could wear one of these suits, and Erianthe, you could dress as an Empusa.”

“An Empusa? I don’t know what that is.”

Euryale laughed.

“You’re going to make her dress up as a demon woman? She looks like such a sweet girl!” the god mocked, joined by his imps.

“What? Do you think I can’t pull off a badass look?” Eri retorted, offended.

“Don’t take it personally, kid. But you don’t strike me as the seductive woman type who lures men in just to devour them,” Hades replied seriously, a bit annoyed.

“How is she going to pull that off? Erianthe just doesn’t fit that kind of look.”

“I’m clearly not that kind of woman, but if it’s necessary, I’ll become an Empusa to get us out of here—all of us. So don’t tell me what I can’t do, Hades,” Erianthe said defiantly.

There was a silent confrontation between the mortal and the god. Eri was upset that he doubted her, but deep down, she was angrier that he didn’t see her as a woman. “He’ll see. He’ll see what I’m capable of.” On the other hand, Hades was frustrated about exposing her in front of so many monsters. Though he couldn’t deny it, a part of him was terrified something might happen to the brat.

“Are they always like this?” Euryale asked the imps. “Alright, calm down, you two. Eri, I’ll need to take some measurements to adjust the clothes, and you, too, Lord of the Dead. You’ll need to wear some armor from my collection to avoid being recognized instantly.”

“Fine. Where should I go?” the daughter of Hercules asked the gorgon.

“Behind that curtain. You’ll have to undress.” At that, everyone turned red. Seeing their reaction, Euryale laughed. “Just as I thought. Better find a more private spot for this.”

“Yes, that’s better,” Erianthe said in a small voice, glancing at the god, who was blushing and looking a bit uneasy. When the gorgon mentioned undressing, he couldn’t help but think back to the time he saw her in the baths.

Behind the curtain, Euryale hurriedly took Eri’s measurements to craft her disguise. She was impressed by the girl’s figure, which wasn’t evident under the armor.

“Wow, Erianthe! You have an amazing body. Now, I really think you can pass as an Empusa,” the gorgon said teasingly. “But we’ll need to address your scent and skin tone…”

“My skin?” the mortal asked, puzzled.

“Of course. Your skin looks too human. We should cover it with pigment… Oh, I know! I have plenty of greenish pigment. That shade might work well. We’ll also give you a wig, some horns, and sharper fangs.”

“That much?”

“Of course, Erianthe! You’ll look like a terrifying, sexy woman. Hades won’t know what hit him. What do you think?” The gorgon’s mischievous smile was hard to resist.

“Let’s do it!” Erianthe was now excited about the idea of dressing up.

Meanwhile, the imps struggled to take the Lord of the Dead’s measurements without much success. They could hear laughter and whispers from behind the curtain.

“What are they whispering about?” moaned Pain.

“Girl stuff?” Panic suggested.

Hades was uneasy, unable to picture the sweet-looking girl dressed as a creature straight out of Tartarus. Then Erianthe stepped out from behind the curtain, wearing a thin robe—and green? Her skin was now a greenish hue, and her hair was more… fiery red?

“What on earth did that gorgon do to you?!” the god exclaimed in shock.

“It’s part of the disguise. Don’t worry. A shower will wash the pigment off,” the young woman smiled, only to freeze when she noticed Hades wasn’t wearing his chiton. His toga had been loosened, revealing his bare torso down to his waist. “What are you doing?” she asked the imps, visibly flustered by the sight of the god partially undressed. “By the gods, those biceps, and pectorals—he’s so muscular!” she thought.

“We’re taking his measurements,” said Pain.

Seeing how poorly they were doing, the girl intervened.

“Let me do it.” Big mistake. As she measured his back, her fingers brushed his warm, smooth skin, sending a shiver through her that she couldn’t hide.

“Your hands are trembling, kid,” Hades teased, a hint of softness in his voice.

Erianthe tried to play it cool, gripping the measuring tape tightly.

“What? Me? Not at all. You must be imagining things.”

But the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. From a corner, the imps snickered.

“Look how red she is! She’s as red as her wig,” said Pain.

“And Hades isn’t far behind!” added Panic, pointing out the god’s faintly reddened ears.

“Shut it, you two, or I’ll roast you where you stand,” growled Hades, glaring at them, though his ears still had that reddish tinge.

Erianthe cleared her throat and continued, avoiding his eyes at all costs. But when her fingers accidentally brushed his skin again, the air seemed to thicken.
“Are you always this meticulous?” Hades asked, his tone low and unreadable.

“Of course! It’s important to get a proper fit for the armor,” Eri replied, though her shaky voice did little to convince anyone.
Euryale, finishing up adjustments to the girl’s disguise, decided to step in, chuckling at the scene.

“Thanks for saving me some work, Eri. I didn’t know this had turned into a contest of who can blush faster.”

“Euryale!” Erianthe exclaimed, a mix of embarrassment and frustration evident.

The gorgon approached, grinning widely.

“Relax, Eri. I’m just saying you’re being very… cute. Now, let’s get to the important stuff.” She turned toward Hades, crossing her arms. “I’ve already got Erianthe’s costume ready, but you, oh mighty god of the Underworld, you still need something more convincing if you want to blend in with a crowd of monsters.”

Hades snorted, grabbing the armor Euryale handed him. It was black, with dark red and silver details; that was radiating authority and power.

“Perfect. Now put it on, and we’ll find you a pair of sandals. You can’t walk around with that cloud of black smoke for feet.”

“Excuse me?” Hades asked, raising an eyebrow.

Erianthe couldn’t help but laugh, momentarily forgetting her nerves.

“She’s right, Hades. If we’re going to infiltrate, you’ll need to look a little less… well, like yourself.”

Hades gave her a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

“Less like me? And who exactly should I be then?”

“I don’t know…” Erianthe replied, leaning toward him with a mischievous smile. “Maybe someone who doesn’t look like they want to incinerate everyone with a single glance.”

The imps burst out laughing, and even Euryale had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

Hades let out a heavy sigh, though his lips twitched into the faintest of smiles.

“Fine, sweetheart. But if this fails, I’ll personally see to it… that you get sent straight to Tartarus.”

Erianthe met his gaze defiantly, a spark of humor in her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a ‘thanks for coming to save me.’”

Euryale shook her head in amusement as she finished adjusting the final details.

“Alright, you two, enough. We’ve got a plan to execute, and no time to waste. Erianthe, get behind the curtain so I can help you with your outfit—I’ve got a couple of surprises for you. And Hades, head to the other corner, put on the armor, and we’ll find you a helmet and sandals to match.”

The two of them sighed, then went where they were directed. Behind the curtain, Erianthe caught sight of her costume and nearly had a heart attack—it was incredibly revealing.

“Euryale, I’m practically naked!” she exclaimed.

“Empusas wear very little; they’re highly seductive. If you want them to believe you’re one of them, you’ll have to dress the part.”

The gorgon helped her put on a black top with gold details and a pattern that barely covered her chest, leaving her entire abdomen exposed. Then, she fitted her with a long skirt of the same color that only covered the front and back, leaving her legs fully visible.

“Isn’t this a little long?” Eri asked.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be wearing platform boots. Normally, Empusas wear bronze boots—one of which looks like a donkey’s hoof. It’s all standard for them. Plus, I’m going to sew a pair of bat wings onto the top.”

“Wings and platform boots? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all! I also need to give you horns and fangs, and let’s not forget the makeup. It won’t take long, but get comfortable.”

Erianthe didn’t dare argue with the gorgon and let her work. Meanwhile, Hades had already changed. It had been a long time since he’d worn armor—possibly since the battle against the Titans? Most likely. Seeing his reflection in a silver breastplate, he admitted he looked good. Imposing, even. “I should wear armor more often,” he thought.

Fifteen minutes passed, and the girls still hadn’t come out from behind the curtain. The god was growing impatient, standing barefoot and missing the helmet he needed. The imps, meanwhile, were debating what they could transform into.

“Got it! What if we become a centaur?” said Pain.

“Oh, yes! But this time, I’m not being the rear end—you take that part, Pain.” Panic retorted.

“What’s taking so long?” Hades exclaimed irritably.

“What’s the matter, boss?”

“Those two! They’re taking forever!” snapped the Lord of the Dead, clearly displeased at being made to wait.

As if on cue, the gorgon emerged from behind the curtain, followed by Erianthe.

Everyone present was stunned. Was that really Erianthe? She looked spectacular and incredibly seductive in those bronze boots and that top with wings. What struck them most was her makeup: dark eyeliner and shadow that accentuated her gaze and the color of her eyes.

“Erianthe, you look amazing!” Panic exclaimed.

“By the gods, you really do look like a flirty woman!” Pain added.

The Lord of the Dead was speechless. He had misjudged the mortal—now she didn’t look sweet or innocent at all. She looked like a true demon, a breathtaking Empusa. He had always known she was beautiful, but now, for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was as if nothing else existed in the universe. “I’m losing my mind,” he thought.

“Well, you sure took your time. I must admit, gorgon, you’ve done an impressive job. My compliments! She looks just like an Empusa,” Hades exclaimed, trying to hide how much he loved the mortal’s transformation into a monster.

“Doesn’t she? She’s stunning; she could be a model. Anyway, let’s stay focused. Now it’s your turn. Let’s find you some sandals and a helmet,” said Euryale with a wide smile.

Erianthe, for her part, was stunned to see the god in armor. The change made him seem even more powerful than he already was, and the way he looked at her so intently left her speechless. She was afraid that if she spoke, her voice would tremble—or worse, that everyone would hear the pounding of her racing heart.

She didn’t move an inch, but from her spot, she saw Euryale handing Hades a pair of dark sandals and a black helmet with red and silver accents that matched perfectly with his armor. The gorgon also gave him a pair of black leather braces that accentuated his forearms.

“Alright, I think we’re ready! I’m going to change into a new tunic, and you two, get ready quickly. We leave in five minutes,” Euryale instructed.

“Are you okay?” Hades asked Hercules’ daughter.

“Me? Oh, yes… I’m fine. Just nervous; I won’t deny it,” Eri replied.

“We’ll get through this. You’ll see. This stupid plan will work, and we’ll escape from here,” the god assured her with a smile.

“Thanks, Hades. You know, with that armor and helmet, you’re even more intimidating. You should consider wearing them more often,” Erianthe said, giving him a tender smile.

They looked at each other for a moment until the imps appeared, transformed into a scrawny green centaur. Euryale also returned, dressed in a dark, elegant tunic that accentuated her figure.

“Ready! Let’s head to the party in the main hall. It connects to the cave entrance. There’s another hallway that leads back to where we entered today, and the stage they’ve set up connects to the hallway. So, we only have two exits,” the gorgon explained.

“Stage?” Eri asked.

“Of course, Echidna probably set it up for a band. Some monsters can play instruments or even sing. But that’s not relevant. Let’s go. Oh, wait, Eri!” The gorgon grabbed a bottle and sprayed her with a lilac-scented liquid. “This is to mask your human scent.”

“Thanks, Euryale!”

“Great. Now let’s head to the party. Act natural and find an escape route as soon as possible. Let’s go!”

The group left the workshop and headed toward the noisiest part of the monsters’ lair. The sound grew louder and louder with every step. Erianthe felt increasingly nervous, and moreover, she was struggling with the platform shoes, which made her look taller and more graceful, now reaching the shoulder of the god of the dead.

“You’re walking in such a funny way,” Hades teased.

“These platforms are killing me. My feet are in agony,” she replied.

“Take my hand; hold on to me. I’ll help you walk,” the god offered. Without hesitation, Erianthe took his hand, and sure enough, she could walk a bit better. From then on, they walked hand in hand.

Euryale smiled. “By the gods, these two are so obvious,” thought the gorgon. But she quickly pushed aside any thoughts about the god and the mortal ahead of her and focused entirely on the party they were approaching.

“Beyond this gate lies the party hall. Above all, try to go unnoticed—or at least don’t cause trouble. We need to figure out which of the two exits we can use to escape.”

“Y-yes, understood,” Erianthe stammered, her nerves clearly visible to the god, who noticed the tremor in her voice and her hand. He even felt the sweat in her palm—or was it his own? To calm her, he gave her hand a light squeeze. Eri glanced at him, smiled, and returned the gesture.

“Let’s go,” said Hades, to which the girl nodded.

The noise of the party intensified as they crossed the gate into the main hall. The space was packed with monsters of every shape and size: harpies fluttered over the tables, cyclopes roared with laughter while holding enormous mugs of thick liquor, and satyrs played a chaotic melody on out-of-tune flutes. The atmosphere was oppressive, heavy with smoke and dark magic that seemed to pulse with the beat of a drum, marking the rhythm of the celebration.

Still holding Hades’ hand, Erianthe felt her nerves spike. But she remembered Euryale’s words: “Act natural. You’re an Empusa, not a human.” She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and walked with more confidence—though the cursed platforms remained a challenge.

“Everyone is staring at us,” Erianthe whispered. The monsters in the hall were indeed turning to look at them—or rather, at her.

“Relax. They’re staring because you’re doing a good job, not because they’ve figured you out,” murmured Hades, leaning toward her. His voice was low and soothing, but his closeness sent a shiver down her spine.

“I’m not sure if that reassures me or makes me more nervous,” she muttered with a faint smile, though her eyes remained sharp, scanning the monsters who turned to watch them pass.

Their attention didn’t go unnoticed. A few monsters approached them, including a harpy, a cyclops, and a Minotaur.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Must’ve been painful,” the Minotaur said.

“Painful? What do you mean?” the girl asked, confused.

“Falling from Olympus, doll,” replied the creature in a suggestive and lewd tone.

The bystanders went silent. First, because they didn’t know how Erianthe would react, given how nervous and naive she seemed. And second, because the line the Minotaur had dropped was nauseatingly cheesy. If he could, Hades would have incinerated the monster on the spot.

“Well, you’re wrong because I came straight out of Tartarus,” Eri shot back with a seductive tone.

“WHAT?” everyone thought. “Erianthe… flirting?” Hades had to admit that she was indeed Megara’s daughter—such audacity and charm. And if seeing her in that outfit had already made his heart race, her sultry tone and wit were the perfect icing on the cake to drive him over the edge.

“Gorgeous, where have you been all night? Let me buy you a drink… somewhere private,” the Minotaur pressed.
“Hey! I saw her first,” the cyclops shouted.

“Sorry, boys. But I already have company,” she said, lifting her hand to show it was entwined with Hades’. “Maybe next time.”

The monsters walked away disgruntled, not before shooting death glares at the god of the dead. The harpy, however, continued to scrutinize Erianthe intently.
“How strange. I haven’t seen you before, Empusa,” the harpy said, fiddling with a piece of raw meat in her claws.

Erianthe swallowed hard but tried to answer with as much confidence as she could muster. “I’m new. Echidna invited me personally,” she said with an air of arrogance, as if she didn’t need to justify her presence.

The harpy studied her a moment longer, but seemingly satisfied, let out a screech and flew off, disappearing into the crowd.

Hades raised an eyebrow, visibly impressed. “Not bad. Your performance would rival the finest theaters in Athens,” he whispered with a faint smile, though he couldn’t deny feeling a twinge of jealousy at the attention she was receiving.

Before she could respond, Euryale, who had moved ahead, hurried back.

“Try not to cause a scene! The hostess is on the other side of the hall. If we’re discovered, we’re in deep trouble.”

“Echidna is here?” Erianthe asked, alarmed.

“Of course. Who do you think throws these parties? But don’t worry—with those horns and your pigment, she won’t recognize you… as long as you don’t talk to her too much,” the gorgon replied.

As they made their way through the crowd, something caught Erianthe’s attention. In a corner of the hall, a group of monsters was gathered around a small, makeshift stage. A trio of satyrs played a frenzied melody while a sphinx recited riddles that drew laughter from the audience.

“That’s the stage I mentioned. Of the two exits, it’s the least guarded. We could use it to slip out through the back door,” said Euryale, discreetly pointing toward the area.

“And how do you plan to get us past all these people unnoticed?” Hades asked, crossing his arms.

Euryale grinned mischievously. “Simple. We’ll need a distraction, and I think our dear Empusa is perfect for the job.”

“What?” Erianthe and Hades said in unison.

“Think about it. You look stunning in that disguise. If you go up on stage and do… something”—the gorgon made a vague gesture with her hands—“you’ll capture everyone’s attention. It’ll be the perfect moment to escape.”

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Sing?” Erianthe protested.

“You sing beautifully, Erianthe,” said Pain—or rather, his voice was heard coming from the centaur’s rear.

“We can go ahead to fetch the chariot,” suggested Panic.

“This is ridiculous. We’re not putting her on display like that. We’ll find another way to distract them,” Hades interjected, frowning.

Euryale, already aware of the god’s feelings for the girl, smirked and said, “Oh, come on, Hades! If you’re so worried, go up there with her. Relax. She just needs to be up there for a couple of minutes. With that outfit and a bit of attitude, no one will be thinking about anything else.”

Erianthe, though nervous, knew the gorgon was right. If she wanted to help them escape, she needed to play a more active role. She took a deep breath and looked at Hades with determination.

“I’ll do it.”

Hades glared, visibly irritated, but he couldn’t argue when he saw the resolve in her eyes.

“Fine. But if anything goes wrong, it’s your fault, Euryale.”

“Deal!” the gorgon replied, clearly enjoying the tension between them.

Minutes later, Erianthe stepped onto the stage. Euryale convinced the satyrs that the girl would be performing a musical number with them; she barely needed to persuade them—one look at her, and they eagerly agreed. Under the flickering light of a magical lamp, murmurs began to spread through the hall. All eyes were on her.

“Who’s that?”

“An Empusa? I’ve never seen her before…”

“She looks like she stepped out of a dream… or a nightmare.”

Erianthe swallowed hard but reminded herself to act like a powerful, deadly creature. She allowed herself a mysterious smile and began to move slowly, walking from one side of the stage to the other as if assessing the audience.

The satyrs’ music shifted, becoming more seductive, almost hypnotic. Without thinking too much, Erianthe let the rhythm guide her movements. And then she began to sing:

I knew you were coming for me.
And here you are.

The monsters began to cheer. The little imps seized the moment to sneak away, while Euryale and Hades slipped behind the stage. However, the god couldn’t tear his gaze away from Hercules' daughter.

Choose wisely.
Because I’m capable of anything.
And everything.

Make me your Aphrodite.
Make me your one and only.
But darling,
Don’t you dare to make me your enemy,
your enemy.

Do you really want to play with fire?
Baby, you should know what you're falling for.
Are you ready?

Because I'm coming at you like a lightning bolt.
Are you ready? I’m ready.
For this storm of emotions.

Because once you’re mine,
There’s no turning back.

Hades watched with a furrowed brow, visibly tense. On one hand, he admired how well Erianthe was playing her role, but on the other, he couldn’t help feeling uneasy as the monsters stared at her with lustful, predatory eyes. He had to admit, though—she was playing the perfect Empusa.

Remember my words;
this love will make you levitate.
You’re in the palm of my hand now, baby.
So make sure you give it all.
Give me everything to me.

Do you really want to play with fire?
Baby, you should know what you're falling for.
Are you ready?

Hades was captivated by the girl’s movements; they were seductive, and her voice held him spellbound, growing stronger with every note. Suddenly, he strode onto the stage, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her close, possessively.

Erianthe hadn’t expected him to join her, but she seized the moment, dancing with him to the rhythm of the music.

Because I'm coming at you like a lightning bolt.
Are you ready? I’m ready.
For this storm of emotions.

The two were looking at each other in the eyes as they danced, unable to look away from one another.

Because once you’re mine,
There’s no turning back.

The god twirled her, spinning her gracefully, only to bring her back into his arms, his hands firmly holding her waist. The entire hall erupted into deafening cheers and applause, but for Erianthe and Hades, the noise seemed to fade into the background. It felt as though only the two of them existed at that moment.

Erianthe’s eyes were locked on Hades’. His gaze was intense, filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, something that made her heart race uncontrollably. The feel of his hands on her waist sent shivers through her—not just from her nerves, but from something else. She had never felt this way before.

“You’re playing with fire,” murmured the god, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Erianthe smiled, a smile she had perfected to seem like a lethal creature, though inside her heart was pounding so hard she was certain he could feel it.
“I thought you were the fire, Hades,” she replied, surprised at her boldness. She wasn’t usually like this.

Hades raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, though his expression remained serious.

“Careful what you say, Eri. You might get burned.”

As the monsters continued to cheer and clap, the two made a small bow and slipped away behind the stage without raising suspicion. Behind a curtain, Euryale was waiting for them, visibly impressed.

“Wow, that was incredible! You were amazing, Eri. You sing wonderfully. But next time, maybe tone it down a bit? A little more of that, and the entire den would’ve been dancing around you two!” whispered the gorgon with a sharp tone, though she couldn’t hide the grin on her face at the obvious tension between them.

“It worked, didn’t it?” replied Hades without looking at her, striding ahead with long, purposeful steps as Erianthe struggled to keep up in her cursed platform shoes.
The gorgon rolled her eyes but held her tongue.

“Come on, this way,” she said. They could now see the corridor and the exit, the cool air from outside the cave brushing against their faces.
Suddenly, in the distance, a roar was heard—it was Echidna's voice.

“What a performance! It was marvelous! Where’s that Empusa and her companion?” demanded the mother of all monsters.

“They stepped off the stage, but I don’t see them anymore,” replied the harpy.

“Mom, I love that Empusa, I think I’ve fallen for her,” said the Cyclops.

“No, I like her better!” the Minotaur interjected.

“Enough! Let’s find them! Don’t let them leave the party!” Echidna ordered.

Meanwhile, Hades, Euryale, and Erianthe had already exited through a crack in the cave.

“Finally! We’re free!” shouted Erianthe.

“Don’t celebrate just yet. We still need to reach the chariot,” Euryale reminded her.

“Let’s not waste time, let’s go,” ordered the god.

They began walking toward where they had left the chariot, expecting the imps to show up with it at any moment. But soon, the sounds of the party grew louder, as if the crowd were right behind them.

Turning around, they saw Echidna and her brood charging toward them.

“Run!” shouted Euryale.

The three of them broke into a sprint. Erianthe ran as fast as her platform shoes allowed, tripping a couple of times, but either Hades or Euryale would catch her before she fell. The roars of the crowd behind them grew deafening, and the ground shook as massive creatures joined the chase.

“Leave me here! I can’t keep up!” cried Erianthe, gasping for air and feeling her legs about to give out.

“Not a chance!” snapped Hades, not even glancing at her as he grabbed her wrist to keep her moving. His tone was firm, but there was a trace of concern that pushed her to keep going.

Euryale glanced quickly over her shoulder and cursed under her breath.

“This isn’t working! They’ll catch up to us in minutes. We need a distraction or something to slow them down.”

Hades frowned and, without letting go of Erianthe, raised his free hand to summon a curtain of dark smoke. It rose from the ground, spreading like a dense cloud and obscuring the path behind them.

“That should buy us some time,” he said with satisfaction.

“What the—?” the monsters exclaimed.

“That power—it’s Hades! He’s escaping!” roared Echidna.

But the growls and roars didn’t diminish. Echidna and her monsters were too persistent. Even with the smoke, their footsteps drew closer, as if they were tracking Erianthe’s scent.

“Oh no, Erianthe, they’re tracking your scent! The effect of the drops has worn off!” exclaimed the gorgon.

“What do we do?” Erianthe asked worriedly, looking to the god of the dead. Before he could answer, the imps arrived with the chariot.

“We’re here!” yelled Pain.

“Want us to take you for a ride?” Panic said mockingly.

“Very funny. Come on, let’s go. We don’t have time,” Erianthe told them.

“Guys, I’ll stay behind...” Euryale said in a faint voice.

“No way! You’re coming with us! You’re part of the team now, so get in. If you stay, they’ll kill you for sure,” Erianthe’s tone left no room for argument, prompting the gorgon to climb into the chariot without hesitation.

“Since when do you make these decisions?” Hades asked her.

“Oh, come on, Hades! She helped us escape, and we make a good team. Besides, you need to recruit people for the Underworld. You need more power, remember?”
The god of the dead couldn’t argue with that. Once everyone was in, the chariot took off into the skies. But they hadn’t counted on some monsters being able to fly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Erianthe screamed in horror as a swarm of flying monsters, led by Echidna, pursued them through the air.

“Boss! They’re catching up!” the imps cried, clinging to each other in fear.

“I’m trying to gather enough power to transport us to the Underworld. Damn, I’m still weak,” cursed the god.

“Guys, summon a bow with some arrows,” Eri ordered, her demeanor now serious. She had the coin she had before in her hand. The imps exchanged puzzled looks but did as she asked.

Erianthe took the bow with determination and tested the arrows. Though it had been a while since she’d last used one, she remembered her training with Patroclus and Phil’s advice. Taking a deep breath, she fixed her gaze on the flying monsters, particularly Echidna.

“Do you even know how to use that?” Euryale asked skeptically, gripping the edge of the chariot to avoid being thrown out by the jerky movements.
“Enough to buy us some time,” Erianthe replied, her tone cold to mask her nerves.

Hades, busy gathering enough energy to open a portal, glanced at the daughter of Hercules out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, a faint smile crossed his face, though his focus remained unbroken.

“If you fail, I’ll remember you as a fool,” he muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

“I won’t fail. Watch me.”

“Hades! You won’t escape!” roared the mother of all monsters. “Don’t make me laugh. That human thinks she can take us on? Who does she think she is? Do you even know who I am, girl?” Echidna’s fury was palpable as she closed in, but Erianthe stood firm.

“Who am I?” Eri shouted, aiming the bow at Echidna. “Don’t underestimate me, monster. I am Erianthe, daughter of Hercules and Megara!” She released the arrow, which struck Echidna directly in one of her eyes.

The chariot’s occupants were stunned by her accuracy, but Hades was even more impressed by her determination and how boldly she proclaimed her heritage—one of Greece’s most celebrated heroes, feared and hated by monsters.

“Wow! Sorry for doubting you, Eri,” Euryale admitted.

Erianthe kept firing arrows, taking down several monsters.

“Sir! Hurry up!” Panic shouted, seeing some monsters get dangerously close.

“Do you think it’s easy to channel power with all of you screaming like crazed fans at a concert? A little patience!” the god barked, closing his eyes to concentrate.

Lightning began striking near the chariot.

“Hades! At this rate, we’ll get hit by a bolt!” Euryale yelled.

Opening his eyes, Hades raised a hand. His voice thundered with authority:

“You’re so annoying! I’ve got it!”

A dark circle formed beneath the chariot, swirling like a vortex. The air grew icy and charged as the portal to the Underworld began to open.

“Hold on tight! I don’t want anyone falling off!” Hades shouted.

The imps clung to each other, and Erianthe and Euryale held onto the sides of the chariot. With one final push, the chariot dove into the vortex just as Echidna roared in frustration.

“This isn’t over, Hades! I’ll come for you eventually!”

The chariot emerged in a forest near the entrance to the Underworld. “Damn, I miscalculated,” Hades thought. The chariot overturned, flinging its passengers out.

“Eri!” Hades shouted, alarmed as he saw the girl being thrown from the chariot. She wasn’t immortal, and her injuries could be severe. Without hesitation, he leapt to catch her, wrapping her in his arms to shield her from the impact.

Erianthe clung to the god, but as they hit the ground, she saw he wasn’t moving. Blood seeped from his side.

“Hades!” Her panicked voice was the last thing he heard before losing consciousness.

Chapter Text

Hades awoke with a jolt. As he opened his eyes, the warm, dense air struck him, filled with the scent of smoke and the familiar aroma of freshly made stew. The dim light was illuminated only by the crackling flames of a rustic fireplace, and as his gaze travelled over the rough stone walls, he knew exactly where he was. The cave of his childhood.

“What am I doing here?” he murmured in a hoarse voice, his mind still clouded with confusion.

The place was identical to how he remembered it. Every corner, every stone worn down by the years, and every shadow cast by the fire. It was his home, the only one he had before his world changed forever. However, what truly paralyzed him was her.

Sitting by the fire with a serenity that seemed unreal, was Rhea, his mother. Her hands moved with precision, intertwining threads in a loom. The firelight illuminated her delicate face, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

“Aidoneus!” The sweet, melodic voice called him by his old name, the one no one else used. “Good morning, dear! You’re always up so early. Will you help me with some chores?”

Hades’ heart nearly stopped. His mother looked at him with that unparalleled tenderness, the kind only she had ever given him in his entire existence. Was he dreaming? Was this some cruel illusion? His mother had been gone for millennia. No, it didn’t matter. The tremor in his hands vanished instantly. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

“Yes, Mother… Of course.” His voice was broken, trembling, almost childlike.

Hades stepped forward and, without thinking, began helping her with the chores. Cooking. Cleaning. Carrying firewood. The young god did everything with diligence. Every movement, every breath was a silent plea for this moment never to end. The closeness of his mother filled him with a peace he had forgotten existed, but also with a deep, piercing pain—the sorrow of knowing this couldn’t be real.

As he helped her, he heard soft murmurs and small footsteps. His brothers. Poseidon entered first, still small, his hair tousled, sleepiness in his eyes. Then came Zeus, still crawling, laughing with childish mischief. The sight completely bewildered him. But… they are already grown… Hades thought, perplexed.

Yet, everything fit into the impossible perfection of this place. His brothers were still children, innocent, free from the ambition and conflicts that would one day divide them. He turned toward the water jug in the center of the cave, and when he looked at his reflection, his breath caught in his throat.

The child staring back at him from the water was not the Hades he knew. It was a small blond boy with large amber eyes full of life. His pale, luminous skin bore no trace of the grayish tone it would later take on, nor were his teeth sharp fangs. It was him, but innocent, before the world hardened him, before he became the feared and solitary god of the Underworld.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked himself again, unable to look away from that reflection. Everything seemed so real: the warmth of the fire, the scent of freshly baked bread, his brothers’ laughter. And yet, something was missing. A pang pierced his chest when he realized what it was.
Erianthe.

She wasn’t here. Of course not. This time was eons before her birth, but the emptiness of not seeing her there and of knowing she did not yet exist was unbearable.

“Aidoneus, would you mind bringing me some water?” Rhea’s gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes, Mother,” he replied automatically, grabbing a pitcher.

His mother’s voice, so loving, echoed in his mind like a lost melody. He glanced at her as she prepared food for his brothers as she wove. She did everything with love, a love he had carried with him even after losing her.

Hades couldn't grasp what Rhea saw in Cronus, his father. A cold, distant Titan, incapable of affection. He barely spent time with them, and when he did, his gaze was full of disdain. However, Rhea had always been there: strong, unwavering, and devoted. She had been Hades’ only refuge in his darkest days.
“Brother, will you come play?” Poseidon’s voice made him turn. The boy smiled at him, waving a branch as if it were a sword. Zeus laughed beside him, still clumsy in his movements.

Hades watched them, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and melancholy. It was true: there had been a time when they were a family. A time when everything seemed right. When they were just children, under the loving care of their mother.

“Aidoneus, my son,” Rhea called him again, and as he turned toward her, he noticed she was looking at him with a special intensity. “Do not forget who you are. Do not forget what truly makes you happy.”

Her voice, though soft, carried a weight that pressed on his chest. Suddenly, everything began to change. The fire started to fade, the cave walls blurred, and his mother’s face became hazy.

“No! Mother, wait!” Hades reached out, trying to grasp that world, that moment slipping through his fingers like smoke.

The last thing he saw was Rhea’s smile and the echo of her voice.

“What truly makes you happy…”

Hades jolted awake, covered in a cold sweat. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he had just run a marathon. Mentally, he chuckled at the absurd thought—he hadn’t considered running a marathon in over a thousand years. He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.

“It was just a dream,” he told himself, but his voice trembled. His entire body felt numb. The first thing he noticed was the warm glow of a lit torch, faintly illuminating the room. His room. He recognized the scent of damp stone, sulfur, oak, and incense. But what truly surprised him was the subtle floral fragrance that had become so familiar—the scent of Erianthe.

He turned his head slightly, trying to gather his bearings. Pain immediately shot through his side, forcing him to inhale carefully. His torso was wrapped in clean bandages, and he realized he wasn’t wearing his chiton or his tunic—just his undergarments and the bindings. Hades frowned, confused, until a slight movement caught his attention.

She was there.

Sitting in a chair beside the bed, with her head resting on her folded arms atop the mattress, Erianthe was fast asleep. Her breathing was soft, her hair falling in gentle, tousled waves, and her relaxed expression radiated serenity. The sight left him speechless. Why is she here? The god wondered, feeling a strange pressure in his chest.

Suddenly, the memories rushed back like an uncontrollable flood. Echidna. The escape from the monsters. The chariot overturned when they reached the forest. Hades remembered how Erianthe had been thrown from it. Instinctively, he had jumped to protect her, knowing she wouldn’t survive such an impact. He had used the last of his strength to shield her. The blow had pierced through him like a spear, but at least she had been safe.

“So I lost consciousness after that. What a nuisance,” the god of the dead muttered to himself, annoyed and frustrated by his current situation. If this had happened when I was at full power seventeen years ago, things would have been different.

For starters, he wouldn’t have needed to visit Echidna. And even if that had come to pass, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have had enough strength to face all the monsters at that wretched gathering without breaking a sweat. They would have learned the true power of the god of the dead. The mere thought of those monsters filled Hades with fury.

Agitated, the god tried to move, but even the slightest shift made the mattress creak beneath him. Erianthe stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep. Hades held his breath, watching her carefully to avoid waking her. He didn’t want to break this moment.

For an instant, he just observed her. It fascinated him how peaceful she looked while sleeping—so different from the determined and stubborn young woman who would stand up to anyone, even slavers and monsters. She wasn’t afraid to be in the Underworld; in fact, she seemed comfortable here. The torch’s soft glow highlighted the tiny freckles on her face and the natural flush of her cheeks. She’s so brave, the lord of the dead thought.

The word echoed in his mind. That memory—Erianthe facing the gorgon, risking her life to protect the other gorgon—was seared into his soul. He also recalled the first time he met her, when she had defied the manticore without hesitation. But the memory that burned the deepest was the moment she had risked her life to keep him from falling into the vortex of souls.

And then, without meaning to, Hades smiled. He felt, little by little, that this girl was melting the heart he had long believed to be frozen—or rather, dead. How is it possible that this tiny human has such strength? He wondered.

He knew that she had endured hardships and traumas that would have shattered anyone else her age. But not Erianthe. She was unique, and every small gesture, every glance, and every smile moved him more than any other being had in millennia.

Hades reached out to her cautiously, almost without thinking. His fingers nearly brushed her hair, but he stopped himself. Something within him feared breaking the distance that still existed between them—a barrier he couldn't quite understand.

Suddenly, Erianthe murmured something clearer, her voice soft and drowsy.

“Hades, don’t go,” she whispered, and a shiver ran through the god.

“Eri,” he murmured under his breath, startled. But she did not wake.

Hades sank back against the pillow, his gaze fixed on the sleeping girl beside him. Could she be dreaming about me? The thought unsettled him. No one dreams of the god of the underworld. No one wants to dream of me. Except, maybe… her?

“This girl is so strange,” Hades thought.

He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled slowly, trying to steady the erratic beat of his heart. She’s driving me insane.

Lying back against the pillow, he tried to ignore the dull pain in his side. For a while, he focused on slowing his breathing and controlling the burning sensation from his wounds. He knew he was healing, but it had been millennia since he had taken a hit like this—probably not since the war against the Titans.

Once he had regained control over the pain, his thoughts drifted back to the girl resting beside him. His gaze returned to Erianthe, still asleep, unaware of everything. For a long moment, he simply watched her and remembered the first time he had seen her—how, at first, he had only wanted to make her suffer. But that feeling had slowly faded, day by day, as he spent time with her.

Now, he couldn’t imagine letting anything or anyone harm her.

He couldn’t look away. She brought him peace. And like a moth drawn to a flame, his hand reached for her again. He hesitated, mere inches away, torn between reason and instinct.

But for the first time, he let instinct win.

Gently, with the utmost care, his fingers brushed against Erianthe’s hair.

It wasn’t the first time he had touched her. They had embraced before, held hands, and he had even carried her. Not to mention that night at the lake when he had to revive her. But this touch was different—this time, he was doing it consciously because he wanted to feel her warmth beneath his fingers.

What the lord of the dead hadn’t expected was for such a simple gesture to make his heart pound harder against his chest—something he was not accustomed to.
Slowly, he brushed his fingers over one of the loose waves in her hair. It was soft and silky. He lowered his hand just slightly, grazing her cheek. When did I become tender or gentle with anyone? He wondered.

Because she is your weakness. Don’t deny it, whispered that irritating voice inside him.

“Hades…?”

Her voice was soft and slightly hoarse from sleep. As she stirred, she blinked several times, frowning slightly.

“You’re awake?” she asked, a mix of surprise and concern in her tone.

The god quickly pulled his hand back and coughed, trying to regain his composure.

“I suppose—unless I’ve developed the habit of sleeping with my eyes open,” he teased.

Erianthe sat up, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. When she looked at him, her eyes widened a bit more.

“You’re awake! How do you feel?” she asked urgently, immediately reaching for a pitcher and a cup on the bedside table. As she turned, she noticed how pale he was and hurried. “Here, drink this.”

Without waiting for a response, she brought the cup to his lips. Hades raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by her protective nature.

“Erianthe, I am a god. I won’t dehydrate like a mortal,” he said with a hint of humor.

“I don’t care that you’re a god. Drink. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she replied firmly, her eyes locked onto his.

Hades, surprised by her determination, didn’t argue and drank the water she offered. But his surprise only grew when, immediately after, Erianthe placed a careful hand on his chest—a touch so light it was almost a caress.

He nearly choked.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his muscles tensing instantly.

“I wanted to check if your bandages needed changing,” she answered matter-of-factly, pressing gently over the bandages with her fingers.

The warmth of her hand against his bare skin sent a shiver through his entire body. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Why does this brat always have to be so disconcerting? He thought. I can’t deny that she’s truly… adorable.

He couldn’t help but stare at her. Despite her serious, focused expression, there was something in the delicacy of her movements that he found irresistible.

For the first time, he realized that Erianthe was not just his subordinate or a loyal ally—she was his friend.

She cared about him, looked out for his well-being, and he enjoyed the time they spent together.

Is this what it feels like to have friends? He wondered. But something deep inside told him it was more than that. Something deeper. Something he couldn’t quite name.

“Why…” Hades began, his voice quieter than usual. “Why did you come looking for me? Why did you risk so much to save me? You could have gotten hurt…”

Erianthe lifted her gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly when she realized how close she was to him. She tried to mask her reaction, slowly removing her hand from his chest, but her heart was pounding.

“I… I did it because I wanted to, Hades. You’re my friend, and I don’t regret it. I would sneak into that monster’s lair over and over again to get you out of there.”
Her voice was soft but firm.

Deep down, Erianthe knew she had already crossed the barrier of friendship with Hades. She didn’t feel the same way about him as she did with any of her other friends—but she wasn’t sure what it was exactly.

Did she just say I’m her friend?

A warmth spread through his chest. And yet, he also felt a strange tightness, his pulse quickening. Hades gazed at her intently.

How had this little human become someone so special to me?

Still, something else caught his attention—there was a faint greenish tint left on Erianthe’s cheek, a remnant of her disguise as an Empusa.

“You still have some green pigment,” he murmured, trying not to smirk as he gently took her face in his hands.

Erianthe blinked, surprised by the sudden contact. Her pulse quickened, and the blush on her cheeks deepened.

“What…” was all she could manage before Hades started wiping the pigment away with his thumb, his dark eyes locked onto hers.

The world seemed to stop.

Hades stroked her cheek with such care, as if he feared she might break.

At that moment, he understood just how irrevocably drawn he was to her. Their breathing slowed, deepened, and instinctively, their faces moved closer.

Erianthe swallowed hard, unable to look away.

The warmth in her chest was overwhelming—but in a way she never wanted to end.

“Erianthe…” Hades whispered, his voice hoarse, laden with emotions he himself could not understand.

“Hades…” Eri murmured, her voice barely a sigh.

They were so close that he could feel her breath against his lips. One more centimeter, and—

“Erianthe! It's time for dinner!” the imps called out from outside the room.

The sound hit them like a cold wave. Both of them pulled away abruptly, their cheeks flushed, their breathing uneven.

“Those damned imps…” Hades muttered through gritted teeth, closing his eyes in frustration.

Erianthe, still blushing, quickly stood up, searching for any excuse to leave.

“R-right… You should rest! I'll go prepare dinner!” she said, her voice nervous as she rushed toward the door. Then, with a teasing smile, she added, “By the way, I'll tell Giles to make you those worms you love so much.”

Hades frowned at her comment and immediately interrupted.

“Absolutely not,” he stated firmly, though his expression softened right after. “I'd rather you prepare my dinner.”

Erianthe blinked. She was used to cooking for him, but it was the first time he insisted that she would be the one to do it. A radiant smile spread across her face, brightening everything around her. For a moment, she forgot her nervousness and the lingering warmth in her cheeks.

“What would you like me to make?” she asked, visibly happy.

Hades gave a small smile; there was an unfamiliar warmth in his dark eyes. Seeing her smile like that stirred something in his chest—something very close to joy.

“Your stew, no question. It's one of your best dishes,” the lord of the dead replied.

Erianthe let out a soft laugh and nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright! I'll make the stew and something special to go with it. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will,” Hades murmured, more to himself than to her.

Erianthe lingered for a moment, looking at him. She truly enjoyed cooking—especially when it was for him. Something about his words made her heart beat a little faster. But just as she turned to leave, Hades spoke again.

“Erianthe…”

She turned back, curious. “Yes?”

“Would you like to meet later? In the baths.”

Erianthe felt her face instantly heat up again. The baths… Her mind immediately recalled the time Hades had caught her exactly as she had come into the world—how awkward and embarrassing that had been. But there was something different in his tone this time, a softness that made it impossible for her to refuse.

“The baths?” she repeated, trying to keep calm.

Hades nodded, his gaze steady on hers.

“Yes. I need… to relax a little after everything we’ve been through. And I think it would do you some good, too,” he added with a small smile, one that barely concealed a hint of mischief.

Erianthe swallowed and quickly nodded, unable to suppress a nervous smile.

“Alright… I'll see you there,” she replied, giving him one last glance before hurrying out and closing the door behind her.

Hades let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the bed. His smile lingered.

“What are you doing to me, brat?” he murmured to himself, his voice soft, almost affectionate.

He closed his eyes, and once again, his mother’s words echoed in his mind: “What truly makes you happy…” Images of a brave, cheerful girl with mesmerizing eyes filled his thoughts.

Meanwhile, in the cafeterium, Erianthe was preparing dinner with a bright smile, thinking about a certain god of the dead. The imps watched her confused—she looked so happy that she was even humming a tune.

When she finished cooking, she told the imps to bring the meal to Hades.

“Here you go. Oh! I almost forgot—this too,” she said, placing a small note on the tray.

Hades was seated in one of the armchairs in his room when the imps entered with the tray.

“Your dinner, boss!” Panic announced, placing the tray on the small table near the bed.

“It's made with lots of love,” Pain added with a sly grin before both imps scurried away, giggling under their breath.

Hades raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled, but when he looked at the tray, he found a delicious meal—stew that smelled so good it could probably bring a dead person back to life. Alongside it was warm pita bread stuffed with feta cheese, still steaming. Just the scent made his stomach growl, reminding him that, god or not, he needed to regain his strength.

That was when he noticed something else—a small, folded note.

He carefully opened it and immediately recognized Erianthe’s handwriting.

“I hope you enjoy this and that it helps you regain some energy. I made it with a lot of care, so you’d better eat everything. —Eri.”

Hades couldn’t help but smile.

But what truly made his heart skip a beat was the tiny heart she had drawn at the end of the note. It was small, barely noticeable, as if she had hesitated before adding it—but it was there.

“Eri…” he murmured, rubbing his forehead with a deep sigh—though he couldn’t erase the smile from his lips.

She’s adorable, he thought.

And for a moment, it felt as if all the coldness and weight of millennia had melted away, replaced by something warm and unfamiliar—something only she could make him feel.

He took a bite of the pita bread, closing his eyes as he savored the melted, salty cheese. It was delicious, as always. Everything she made was. And that made him feel even more vulnerable.

That night, after finishing his meal, the god of the underworld made his way to the baths with an unhurried stride. He wore a lightweight black tunic. Yet, all the while, the image of that tiny heart on the note lingered in his mind.

After washing off the grime and sweat from his visit to the monsters’ lair, Hades made his way to the pool and put on his swimwear. Ever since that incident, he no longer wanted to swim naked in his pool.

He noticed that Hercules’ daughter wasn’t there and quickly realized she must have gone to the employee pool. Sure enough, that’s where he found her.

The girl was submerged up to her shoulders in the water, her orange hair tied in a high bun, leaving her neck exposed. Her cheeks were lightly flushed from the heat of the water, and she appeared utterly relaxed, her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face. Around her, the reflection of the Underworld’s glow created an almost ethereal image.

Hades watched her from his pool without saying a word; he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Hades, what are you doing? You look like a pervert,” he scolded himself, though his inner voice retorted. You’re mesmerized by her.

Shaking his head, the god swam to the edge of his pool. At that moment, Erianthe turned and smiled when she saw him. The Lord of the Underworld couldn’t help but smile back. Why is she smiling at me? Is she happy to see me?

Hades leaned against the edge of his pool, his gaze fixed on Erianthe in the other pool. His posture seemed relaxed, but in reality, his mind was completely focused on her. The steam from the water swirled between them, and the contrast of her orange hair against the somber backdrop of the Underworld was almost hypnotic.

“Tell me something, Erianthe,” Hades said finally, his voice deep yet soft. “Why didn’t you come to my bath? Why are you in the employee pool?”

Erianthe blinked, surprised, then chuckled softly, as if his question were absurd.

“Your bath? Hades, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m still your subordinate, and that’s your private bath. It’s supposed to be for the lord of the dead only.”

The mention of the word subordinate made Hades frown. His gaze grew intense, as though he were considering something.

“From now on, you’ll use my baths,” he declared without thinking. He knew she was right to use the employee baths since she was technically one of them. But deep down, he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. “Why can’t I bear to be apart from her?”

Before she could respond, Hades raised a hand, extending it toward her. His arm transformed into a swirling cloud of dark smoke, which elegantly stretched across the distance to the edge of the employee pool.

Erianthe’s eyes widened in surprise as the smoke wrapped gently around her waist.

“Hades! What are you doing?” she exclaimed nervously, feeling herself being pulled toward him with a firm yet gentle force that left her no choice.

“Bringing you closer. This way, we can talk more easily,” Hades replied with a sly smile.

In a matter of seconds, Erianthe was lifted from the water and transported to the god of the underworld’s pool. The dark smoke dissipated as her feet touched the warm water, and she let out a soft sigh.

“You could’ve just asked me to come over, you know?” she protested, pouting slightly.

“And where’s the fun in that?” he replied, clearly amused, as he leaned back against the edge of the pool, looking at her with a mix of playfulness and something harder to define.

Erianthe crossed her arms, though she couldn’t stop herself from smiling and letting out a laugh. The Lord of the Dead never ceased to surprise her. He wasn’t at all what she had imagined.

She had always thought of him as a cruel, twisted, grumpy, and selfish god. But little by little, she was discovering there was more to him.

He was funny, sarcastic, intelligent, and cultured—and occasionally, he showed a protective side, caring about the few things that mattered to him. Granted, those things were rare and often self-serving, but still, it was something. And, much to her disbelief, she was starting to realize that deep down, very deep down, he had a tender and affectionate side.

“Oh, gods… Am I seriously associating ‘tender’ and ‘affectionate’ with Hades?” Erianthe thought, almost in disbelief.

“Are you sure you want to share your bath? I don’t want to hear any complaints later,” she teased, her tone playful.

Hades smiled, his eyes still fixed on her.

Erianthe was wearing a simple black swimsuit—the one Pain and Panic had given her. While it wasn’t revealing, its snug design accentuated her natural curves. Too well, Hades thought, glancing away for a moment before his thoughts spiraled out of control.

But it was futile. The memory of Erianthe in the baths that one time—naked and unguarded—flashed back into his mind unbidden. Her wet, pale skin glistening in the steam, her fiery orange hair cascading like flames, and that blend of innocence and sensuality he hadn’t been able to shake from his thoughts since.

He couldn’t help but recall how captivating and dangerous she had looked when disguised as an Empusa, with that defiant gaze and the voice that had utterly entranced him. It was ironic—this mortal stirred emotions in him that no goddess or nymph had managed to evoke in centuries.

“Hades?”

Erianthe’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was watching him with a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in her smile.

“Don't tell me you're regretting sharing your bath.”

Hades cleared his throat, suddenly feeling absurdly exposed at that moment.

“I was… thinking,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant as he shifted his gaze toward the horizon of the underworld.

Erianthe studied him for a moment, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. Then, unexpectedly, she leaned back and submerged herself in the water with a graceful, playful movement, sending a light splash in Hades’ direction.

“Hey!” Hades grumbled, startled.

“You deserved it,” Erianthe laughed, surfacing again, water cascading down her face and shoulders. “You always seem lost in another world. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing that concerns you, brat,” he replied, though his tone lacked any real severity. The sight of water droplets gliding down her skin made him clench his fists slightly beneath the surface. It was frustrating, but at the same time, fascinating.

“I was just thinking that I'll have to ask Ajax to stock more soaps for you and set up a place where you can change comfortably, nothing more.”

Erianthe gave him a small, warm smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Why would I lie to you? More importantly, why do I have to explain myself to you?”

“I'm just worried about you…”

Hades let out a low chuckle.

“Really?” He was secretly pleased that she cared.

Erianthe simply shrugged and turned away momentarily, gazing at the distant lights of the Underworld. The reflection of the infernal flames danced on the water, blending with the ethereal glow of the souls drifting through the river.

“Of course, you idiot,” she murmured softly.

Hades stared at her, his expression unreadable. What’s wrong with her? Why did she suddenly get so serious?

There was something about her presence that made him completely vulnerable, and that irritated him. Every time she was near, he felt something inside him soften, little by little.

As the steam from the water swirled around them, Hades realized that, for the first time in his existence, he felt at peace—and that peace came solely from being near Erianthe.

Erianthe was still watching the horizon. Hades followed her gaze, his eyes taking in the vast landscape of the Underworld. That was when she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noticing the faint dark circles under his eyes. He looked tired.

For a brief moment, she stopped seeing him as the imposing god of the underworld and instead saw him as a man. A normal man.

“Hades…” she said gently, tilting her head slightly as she observed him. “Are you okay? You look… exhausted.”

Hades strained for a moment, his gaze locking onto hers as if debating whether or not to answer.

“I'm fine, brat,” he replied with his usual indifferent tone, though there was little conviction behind his words.

“No, you're not.”

Erianthe moved closer in the water, narrowing the space between them.

“I can see it in your eyes. And… you have dark circles.”

Hades scoffed lightly, though not in annoyance—more in resignation. He wasn't used to people noticing things about him… or worrying.

“Since when do you care so much about how I look?” he teased, but she didn’t laugh.

Instead, she looked at him with that soft, genuine expression that sometimes completely disarmed him.

“You know,” she began, her voice careful, as if she were afraid of hurting him, “while you were unconscious, you kept calling for someone.”

Hades' frown deepened slightly, and he turned to face her, staring intently.

“Calling for someone?” he murmured, almost incredulously.

“Yes.”

Erianthe nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You said 'Mother'… multiple times.”

A heavy silence settled between them, as if the surrounding air had suddenly frozen. Hades' features hardened slightly, but not in anger—in pain. He averted his gaze, avoiding looking at her directly.

Erianthe didn’t press him. She wanted him to speak in his time. But that vulnerability in him… she had never seen it before.

After a few moments, Hades' voice finally broke the silence.

“It’s been a long time since I thought about her.” His voice was low, deeper than usual.

“My mother, Rhea, was the only being whoever truly loved me. She was kind, patient, and protective.”

Erianthe remained still as she listened intently. Hades continued:

“Back then, my mother hid us in a cave, keeping us safe from Cronus, our father. He feared that one of his children would overthrow him, so… he devoured us. One by one.”

Erianthe brought a hand to her mouth, horrified by what she was hearing.

Hades wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixed on some distant point, lost in his memories.

“One day, everything changed.” His voice wavered, almost imperceptibly. “My mother gave birth to Zeus, and desperate to protect him, she asked me to help her buy time. I was the eldest, the strongest at the time. I sacrificed myself so she, Poseidon, and Zeus could escape.”

Hades closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if forcing himself to speak the next words was more difficult than it should have been.

“Cronus… devoured Poseidon. And me as well.”

A shiver ran down Erianthe’s spine at the revelation.

“You cannot imagine what it is like to be trapped inside your father’s stomach. It wasn’t just darkness and silence… It was a void that consumed your soul. I could feel life slipping away, but I never truly died.”

Erianthe stared at him, a mix of compassion and anguish in her eyes. She had no idea how to respond to such a confession. She couldn’t begin to fathom the terror and loneliness he must have felt.

Hades took a deep breath before continuing.

“When Zeus became strong and cunning enough, he freed us all. But something had changed.”

He ran a hand through the water, watching as his fingers disturbed the surface.

“When I emerged, I was no longer the same. Something inside me—in all of us—had changed forever. My skin turned grey, my hair became blue flames, my teeth.”

He gave a faint, humorless smile, just enough to reveal his sharp, pointed teeth.

“My divine light had disappeared. Poseidon, though his appearance changed as well, still retained his light.”

“Is that why Zeus still looks human?” Erianthe asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes. He was never devoured. He never experienced that.”

Hades turned his gaze back to her, softer now, though tinged with melancholy.

“But I… I emerged from Cronus’ stomach looking exactly as I was meant to be—someone to be feared.”

Erianthe felt a lump form in her throat.

Without thinking, she moved even closer to Hades, placing a hand on his arm. A small gesture, yet filled with comfort.

“That must have been horrible,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine what you went through, Hades.”

He looked at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected compassion from anyone.

The warmth of her touch and the honesty in her voice made him feel more vulnerable than ever. And yet, at the same time, he felt… relieved.

“It was,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Somehow, I survived.”

For a moment, they simply looked at each other in silence.

Erianthe’s gaze held a mix of admiration and tenderness.

Hades, feeling exposed before the daughter of Hercules, found himself struggling with an unfamiliar sensation. Yet, when he saw her expression, he felt something sting in his chest.

“You are not what happened to you,” she finally said, her voice filled with conviction.

“You are so much more than that. You are strong and brave, Hades. You tried to protect your family, and you did—you helped your mother and Zeus escape.”

The god of the underworld didn’t respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes—something indescribable.

A silent gratitude.

As if her words had lifted a weight from his shoulders. As if, after millennia, he could finally breathe.

“Thank you, Erianthe,” he murmured at last, his tone softer and more sincere than she had ever heard before.

Erianthe smiled at him, her hand still resting on his arm. And in that instant, Hades realized just how important this mortal was to him. He could feel his heart beating, all because she was there with him.

She didn’t fear his appearance. She touched him without hesitation. Not only that, but she looked at him with kindness and concern, never with repulsion. And that warmth in her gesture…

Now he understood why Erianthe brought him so much peace. She was the light that pulled him from his darkness.

She was his light.

Hades fell silent for a moment. He averted his gaze from the girl, focusing instead on the water, where gentle ripples spread from the movement of his arm. The air around them felt heavier, and he realized it was his breathing—growing labored as he braced himself for what was to come. What followed was far worse than being devoured by his father.

Erianthe did not look away, patiently waiting for him to continue his story. She knew how difficult it was to keep painful memories buried and to carry burdens alone. That’s why she wouldn’t leave him to bear it by himself.

“It didn’t end when we were freed,” Hades finally said, his voice deep and measured. “That was only the beginning of something far worse: the Titan War.”

Erianthe nodded slightly. She knew parts of the story, but something about the way Hades spoke—as if he were reliving it—made the weight of each word sink deeper.

“Zeus, Poseidon, and I rose against our father and the Titans who followed him. That war…”

Hades paused for a moment, his gaze drifting into the distance as if he could see the memories playing out before him.

“It lasted for years. Years in which the world was consumed by chaos. There was no rest, only death and destruction.”

Erianthe swallowed hard. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to stand in the midst of such a battle between gods and Titans.

“You fought too?” she asked softly, though the answer was obvious.

Hades turned to her, offering a humorless smile.

“Of course. We fought on different fronts—Zeus in the skies, wielding his lightning, and Poseidon with his trident, perfect for commanding the seas. And I…” His voice dropped a tone, his eyes hardening. “I had my Helm of Invisibility. With it, I moved unseen through the shadows and darkness. It allowed me to capture many creatures and Titans, to trap them in Tartarus.”

“Tartarus…” Erianthe repeated with a shudder.

“Yes,” Hades confirmed, his voice carrying a trace of exhaustion. “While Zeus battled Cronus in the heavens, I fought in the depths of Tartarus—where the Titans were strongest.”

Erianthe felt a tightness in her chest at the thought of the god of the underworld, fighting not only against immortal creatures but in an abyss where even the strongest beings feared to tread. No wonder he was feared—his achievements alone were beyond anything she could comprehend.

“It was there that we finally chained Cronus,” Hades continued. “With the help of my brothers and several allies, we managed to banish him to Tartarus, along with many of his followers. There were some Titans who were imprisoned by Zeus on the surface.”

“The ones you freed seventeen years ago?” Erianthe asked.

“The ones I freed seventeen years ago to take Olympus,” Hades replied, a hint of frustration in his voice as he recalled his failed conquest. But he pushed the thought aside. If I had won and ruled everything, would I have ever met this brat?

He glanced at her, and for the first time, he couldn’t imagine a day without spending time with her. That realization mingled with another feeling—one that had been lodged deep within him for eons…

“But victory came at a cost,” Hades continued, his tone darkening. “One that I still pay to this day.”

“Your mother?” Erianthe asked gently.

Hades looked at her, surprised at how quickly she had understood. But he nodded.

“Yes.”

His voice lowered to a whisper, thick with sorrow.

“My mother, Rhea… she sacrificed herself to protect us all. While we fought, she stood between us and Cronus one last time. I don’t know how she did it, but she stopped his advance… and paid the price.”

“What happened to her?” Erianthe asked, her voice trembling.

“She became trapped in an eternal state,” Hades explained. “She is neither alive nor dead. She sleeps somewhere in the cosmos, beyond our reach and our power. Zeus says we must not seek her, that she cannot be awakened, and yet, I…” His voice faltered. “I miss her. Every day.”

For the first time, Erianthe saw the depth of pain in the god of the dead’s eyes. His gaze was glassy, though he shed no tears.

“You know,” Hades continued, his voice quieter now, “the tapestry in my chambers… the one you’ve probably seen… it’s an image of her. I had it woven long ago, when I began to forget what her face looked like.”

At that moment, Erianthe couldn’t hold back. She threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a firm, unwavering embrace.

Hades stiffened in surprise but allowed himself to be enveloped in her warmth. He buried his face in her hair, his body instinctively relaxing.

He was getting used to her hugs. If it had been anyone else, they would have been incinerated on the spot. But not her…
Who would have thought—the cold, cruel god of the dead was softening. He had always hated sentimentality, and yet… this situation was new and uncomfortable for him.

Luckily, no one else was there. Just the two of them.

“You’re afraid,” Erianthe murmured, as if she could read his thoughts, “afraid that one day you’ll wake up and won’t remember her voice, or the color of her eyes… something.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her gaze filled with quiet understanding.

“But even if you forget some details, you’ll never stop remembering her.”

Hades looked at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected those words. A small, bittersweet smile touched his lips.

“No… I suppose I won’t.”

Hades rested his cheek against the top of her head, his eyes drifting back to the Underworld’s horizon, weighing his next words carefully.

“She was the only one who ever loved me for who I was—before and after.”

Silence settled over them once more.

Erianthe didn’t know what to say. She felt that no words would ever be enough to fill the void that Hades carried inside him. From where she was, she could hear his heartbeat. And she caught the scent she had first noticed that night when he carried her after saving her from the slave traders—the scent that was uniquely him.

Despite the overpowering presence of sulfur, she could still make out the rich, earthy tones and the faint trace of incense.

“You know,” she said, her voice sincere, “I think your mother would be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Hades looked at her, startled by the statement.

“You’ve built and maintained all of this on your own,” she continued. “I see how much effort you put into keeping everything in order. I know it’s not an easy job.”

Hades looked at her. That girl—this mortal—truly saw him. Beyond the god of the underworld, beyond everything she had heard about him, beyond his appearance.

Erianthe had the purest and most honest heart he had ever encountered. It surprised him, considering she was Meg’s daughter. He knew his former subordinate well, and in no way did she resemble her.

“You never cease to surprise me, brat,” he murmured, and a genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Erianthe smiled as well upon seeing the Lord of the Dead’s rare expression.

For the first time in a long time, Hades felt like he wasn’t alone. Like, finally, there was someone in the entire cosmos he could talk to—someone who understood him, who genuinely cared about him.

And that person was right there, in his arms. The daughter of his nemesis. The very person he had once wanted to destroy.

How ironic.

Now, he didn’t want to let her go.

“I think you must be the only person who doesn’t fear me, so I’ll assume you’re insane,” he said teasingly, just to provoke her.

“Hahaha, maybe. My friends in Thebes always told me I was a little crazy,” Erianthe played along, laughing.

She glanced at the god. Though he was smiling and joking, she could still see the sadness lingering in his eyes, as if there were still things haunting him.
“I never imagined this side of Hades,” she thought.

“Since that day—since I escaped from my father’s insides—everyone has feared me because of my appearance. My mother was the only one who never cared about how I looked. She was the only one who called me by my name until the very end,” Hades said bitterly.

“Your name? I thought your name was Hades,” Erianthe asked, frowning confused.

“Hahaha, no, brat. My name is Aidoneus. Hades is the name of this place—the other name for the Underworld.”

“Then, why did they stop calling you by your real name? I don’t get it.” Erianthe replied, clearly upset.

Hades closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a weary sigh, as if what he was about to say was a burden he had carried for centuries without speaking of it.
“When we distributed the three realms—the cosmos, the seas, and the Underworld—I saw it. I saw how Poseidon and Zeus cheated so that I would end up with the Underworld while they took the sea and Olympus.”

That memory made Hades furious and frustrated.

“Zeus said he deserved to rule over all. Poseidon wanted Olympus as well, but eventually, he settled for the seas. He preferred that over rotting away in the realm of the dead. So they left it to me… To me—the one who had tried to protect them when we were young. The one who had fought in Tartarus against the worst filth this world had to offer.”

“Hades…” Erianthe whispered, unable to find another word.

“No one wanted someone like me up there. Everyone feared me,” Hades murmured, his eyes distant.

That memory had been burned into his mind for eternity. The way the gods had laughed at his “bad luck” when he was given the realm of the dead. How Zeus had simply told him that he was the most suited for the job.

“From then on, the gods forgot my name and called me Hades instead,” he said, his voice laced with resentment.

That day, he had felt exiled.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Erianthe didn’t know what to say, but she could feel the pain and anger in his words.

A slow burn of rage started to stir within her.

“That’s not fair. Why? Why were they so cruel?” Erianthe had pulled away from Hades now, her expression a mixture of empathy and anger.

She was furious—furious at the selfishness of the Olympian gods. Of her grandfather.

“How could they do that to you? After everything you did for them?” Her voice trembled with barely restrained fury.

Hades looked at her in astonishment, almost incredulous at her reaction.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied indifferently, though her words had clearly struck something deep within him.

“The Underworld became my home. But for a very long time… I was alone.”

That word—alone—hung in the air like the toll of a bell.

For the first time, Erianthe truly understood the depth of Hades’ loneliness. Despite his power, despite his title, he had been rejected by those he considered his family.

“You are strong,” she said softly. “Not just anyone could endure something like that. But you did.”

“Strong?” Hades let out a dry chuckle. “I had no other choice.”

Erianthe shook her head and hugged him again.

“Maybe you didn’t. But everyone deserves to have someone by their side. No one deserves to be alone. Not even a god.”

For a moment, Hades didn’t know how to respond.

The warmth of Erianthe’s embrace seeped into his gray skin, melting away some of the barriers he had built over millennia. She looked at him, her eyes full of compassion, understanding, and—above all—empathy.

“You’re really irritating, brat,” he muttered, his tone softer than usual.

Erianthe didn’t answer immediately, only smiling against his chest.

“And you’re ridiculously proud, Lord of the Dead,” she teased.

Then she looked up at him.

“You’re not alone, Aidoneus.”

Hades’ eyes widened.

It was the first time in eons that someone had called him by his true name.

“If you want… and if you let me… I’d like to call you by your real name,” she said, her voice gentle, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. As if this simple request were something incredibly intimate.

Hades let out a quiet chuckle, something rare and genuine.

“Only when we’re alone,” he said with a smirk.

“Deal.”

“Thank you, Erianthe.”

At that moment, Hades wrapped his arms around the mortal girl once again.

“This girl will be my downfall,” he thought.

He had just shared one of the most vulnerable moments of his life with the daughter of Hercules.

And though he had never done so before—and honestly never thought he would—with her, it was easy to talk. Easy to speak without fear of judgment, without feeling weak or foolish.

The moment hung between them, suspended in time, as if even the Underworld itself dared not interrupt.

Hades knew he had found something in Erianthe. Something he thought he had lost long ago. The god of the dead had found in her the warmth he had been missing for eons. The same warmth his mother had once given him.

The god and the mortal stayed like that for a long while, saying nothing.

But nothing needed to be said.

The silence that surrounded them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was comforting.

After some time, the two of them left the baths. It was late, so they both headed to their respective rooms. But just before Erianthe could leave, Hades spoke.

“Erianthe, I hope you won’t tell anyone what happened at the pool. You know, dear, I do have a reputation to maintain,” the god said.

“Relax, my lips are sealed. I swear,” Erianthe reassured him.

“You’d better, brat. Or I swear I’ll torment you for all eternity.”

“Don’t worry, Aidoneus. I won’t say a word. It’ll be our secret—just like the one I told you. What do you say?”

She raised her pinky.

“What are you doing?” Hades asked, confused.

“This is a promise, idiot. We hook our pinkies together to seal it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hades scoffed.

“Come on, it’s what friends do.”

At that word, Hades hesitated—then, reluctantly, hooked his pinky around hers.

“See? Not so hard,” she said, beaming.

“Goodnight, Aidoneus.”

“Goodnight, Erianthe.”

As he closed his eyes, the words of his mother echoed once more.

“What truly makes you happy…”

And all he could see was a girl with orange hair and a smile that illuminated even the darkest places—even his heart.

Chapter Text

She was home.

How?

Impossible. She was in the Underworld and hadn't been home in months. Everything was dark, yet she knew perfectly well she was lying on the bed in her bedroom. So she got up.

The only sound was the breeze blowing through the windows. She peeked into the hallway, searching for any lights turned on, and noticed something downstairs.
She descended the stairs cautiously. In the middle of the table, a single candle was lit—but what struck her most was seeing her mother and younger brother sitting around the table.

Her mother sat with arms crossed, her expression stern, her brow furrowed. Her eyes looked at Erianthe with a mix of pain and disappointment. Not only that, but her little brother, on the other hand, stared at her with deep sadness, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Why did you leave, Eri? Don’t you love us anymore?” Zenos asked through sobs.

“No! I love you so much! I…”

“You abandoned us,” came another voice, this one from behind her.

She turned around and saw her friends: Patroclus, Ilena, and Tadd.

“Guys! What are you doing here? I would never abandon you,” Eri replied, desperate, but her friends only looked at her with anger and disappointment.

“Where were you when we needed you most?” Tadd said coldly.

Erianthe’s heart sank at those words.

“Tadd, no, I…” She tried to talk, but only a whisper came out.

“I thought you were different, Eri,” came her mother’s voice. She turned and saw her standing right in front of her.

There was no time to respond.

The ground began to move under her feet. The world shattered around her like a mirror breaking into pieces.

Erianthe felt herself falling.

A scream escaped her throat as everything turned into a whirlwind of shadows.

And then, she woke up.

Her breathing was erratic. Her body trembled from the cold that filled the room.

She had felt the Underworld growing colder for days now.

“It must be winter on Earth,” she thought.

She sat up in bed. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, as if trying to break free.

The images of her mother, her brother, and her friends lingered vividly in her mind.

“It was just a dream,” she told herself.

But it felt real. Far too real.

And with that feeling came a crushing sense of guilt.

She ran a hand down her face and got out of bed. She knew she wouldn’t fall back asleep. So she went straight to the cafeterium; cooking would help clear her mind.

When she arrived, the room was empty.

She prepared the ingredients she needed and got to work.

Her hands moved on autopilot, and the only sound in the room was the soft clatter of the utensils she was using. But her mind was still trapped in the dream.

“Why did I dream about them? Are they okay?”

Her mother’s words and the accusing stares of her friends weighed heavily on her chest.

Since arriving in the Underworld, her life has changed in ways she never could have imagined. And even though she had found something—someone—in this place, she couldn’t forget that they were still out there.

“Are they in danger?”

She had no way of knowing.

What if she asked Hades? Would he let her visit them?

Part of her doubted he would.

She exhaled slowly and kept cooking, trying to calm the storm inside her—but the knot in her chest refused to loosen.

Elsewhere in the Underworld, the Lord of the Dead awoke, feeling… strange.

He had slept well. No nightmares, no waking in the middle of the night. None of that. In fact, he had dreamed of a certain orange-haired girl. And that, perhaps, was what truly felt strange—because it had been a long, long time since he had opened up to anyone.

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. He had said too much. Furthermore, he had spoken of his mother, his past, even his true name.

“I shouldn’t have told her so much. What was I thinking?”

But deep down, he knew the answer. With that girl, opening up felt natural. It wasn’t forced. In fact, after telling her all those things yesterday, he felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest.

Still, it unsettled him. She was the daughter of his nemesis.

And he had laid bare pieces of himself that almost no one knew. Now, he was vulnerable to her.

Yet, he knew—she would never use that against him. She wasn’t like him.

He rose from bed with a frustrated sigh and headed for her room. He needed to see her. Not only that, but he didn’t know exactly why, but he needed to.
When he arrived, her room was empty. His brows furrowed.

“Where are you, brat?”

He searched through several rooms until it dawned on him—she was probably in the cafeterium, preparing breakfast.

He didn’t take long to get there. And the moment he stepped through the door and saw her, his heart kicked in his chest with an intensity that bothered him.
Erianthe was focused on chopping several ingredients, but something felt off. She looked tense—distant. Hades frowned and approached her silently.

“Erianthe?”

No response.

He raised an eyebrow. Then, the god waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. Nothing. The only option left was to reach out and touch her shoulder.
That, at least, got a reaction.

Eri hadn’t expected anyone to touch her—she hadn’t even noticed the god’s presence. In that precise moment, startled, her hand jerked, and the knife she was holding slipped, cutting her.

“Ow!” she cried out, dropping the knife instantly.

Hades moved without thinking. Before she could pull her hand away, he was already holding it gently in his own. A thin line of blood trickled down her finger.

“What were you thinking?” he scolded, his tone sharp but laced with concern. “At this rate, you’ll end up slicing your whole hand.”

Without hesitation, he summoned his power. Blue flames flickered around her palm. As always, she felt warmth—but it wasn’t until now that she noticed those healing flames were blue. And strangely, they didn’t burn. On the contrary, they gave off a comforting heat.

“You know,” Erianthe said softly. “I always thought Apollo was the only one who could heal.”

“It’s one of his specialties,” Hades replied. “Every god has a gift. For him, it’s healing and clairvoyance. But Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Hestia, Demeter, and I… we have a bit more. More power, more domains—especially those of us who rule over entire realms.”

“So, your powers can do everything?” Eri asked, clearly amazed.

“Not everything, sweetheart,” Hades replied, pride edging his voice. “I’m not the Lord of the Cosmos like Mr. Thunderbolts. But let’s just say I’ve got considerable power. In this case, I can heal certain wounds—especially when the one wounded is under my care.”

“What do you mean by, especially if they’re under your care?” she asked, puzzled.

“Well,” he began, lifting his shoulders in a casual shrug. “When someone makes a pact with the Lord of the Dead, moi, a bond is formed. That bond makes it easier to utilize my power, especially for healing. That’s why I can mend your wounds so easily.”

Then he added with a sly look, “By the way, the knife is off-limits for you now.”

He picked up another knife and began helping her slice the ingredients. Erianthe blinked, completely thrown off.

She had never truly stopped to consider how powerful Hades really was. Sure, her mother had told her stories, and she herself had seen him fight slavers, battle a gorgon with his bare hands, and use his powers to fend off monsters. But still… seeing the King of the Underworld, the Lord of the Dead, calmly slicing fruit in the cafeterium? It was surreal.

“You know how to cook?” she asked, curiosity and wonder lacing her voice.

Hades gave a faint smile as he worked the knife with ease.

“I learned when I was young,” his voice dropped, softer now. “I used to help my mother in the kitchen.”

That simple comment tugged at something deep in Erianthe’s chest. There was something so… human in that image—Hades as a boy, helping his mother cook. She couldn’t help but see him differently.

The two of them kept cooking in a companionable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Erianthe, especially, watched him with growing fascination. There was something intimate about seeing someone so powerful do something so mundane.

Eventually, she began preparing one of Hades’ favorite dishes: seasoned worms. As she laid them out carefully on the tray, the god’s patience gave out. With a mischievous grin, he leaned in and started stealing from the tray before she was finished.

“Aidoneus!” Erianthe protested, gently pushing him away. “I’m not done yet!”

Hades stopped chewing.

“Say it again,” he said, eyes locked intensely on her.

“Huh?”

“Repeat what you just said.” He was getting closer with every word.

“That I’m not done yet?” Eri frowned, confused by his sudden change in tone.

“No, not that.” His voice was low, almost pleading, “Say my name again.”

“Aidoneus,” she whispered, barely audible. Her eyes met the god’s, understanding dawning in their depth. Then, without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I like it when you say my name, brat,” he murmured softly.

Erianthe never imagined Hades could hug someone like that—with so much tenderness. And she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he had needed to hear someone call him by his true name.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Hades sneakily grabbed more worms from the tray.

“Hey! Don’t take more; I haven’t finished!” Erianthe scolded, breaking away from the hug.

The Lord of the Dead just laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he chewed happily on one of his favorite delicacies.

“I can’t help it, brat,” he said between chuckles. “They’re too good. Though I have to admit, I’m starting to prefer your cooking. The way you prepare them… they’re to die for.”

Erianthe burst into laughter, caught off guard by his enthusiasm.

“Want one?” Hades offered, holding a worm out to her.

Erianthe pulled back immediately, making a face.

“Not a chance!” she exclaimed, shaking her head.

Hades laughed even harder, his deep voice echoing through the cafeterium.

“And it doesn’t gross you out to cook them?” he asked, raising a brow.

Eri shrugged with a small smile.

“I’ve gotten used to it. Besides…” she glanced at him sideways. “I add a bit of rosemary. It’s my special touch. I’m glad you like it.”

Hades arched a brow in surprise.

“So that’s your secret ingredient,” he muttered, his voice full of admiration and amusement.

Erianthe smiled proudly, pleased that he appreciated her seasoning. Once the worms were done, and since she was “banned” from using knives, she began kneading dough for pita bread instead. Her hands moved with purpose, pressing deep into the soft dough, while Hades watched her with growing interest.

But the god of the underworld couldn't stay still for long…

A mischievous idea crossed his mind.

With a swift motion, he grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it gently at Erianthe, covering her hair and part of her face. The girl froze for a second before slowly turning toward him, one brow raised.

“Did you actually do that?” she asked, though her smile betrayed any attempt at sounding stern.

Hades shrugged with mock innocence.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! For the record, the flour suits you. Gives you a more rustic aesthetic.”

Erianthe wasn’t about to let that go.

She grabbed a handful of flour and hurled it straight at his chest.

“Well then, you clearly needed a makeover too, Lord of the Underworld!”

Their little battle continued for a few more minutes, laughter filling the cafeterium as clouds of flour swirled around them, covering them from head to toe.

When they finally stopped, both were breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter and the burst of energy. Erianthe was smiling—she liked this playful side of the god. He looked like a mischievous child with a hunger for fun, and she thought, “He missed out on childhood too early.” After all, his father had stolen part of his youth.

Hades looked at her, his dark eyes glowing with a rare warmth.

“I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun,” he admitted quietly.

Erianthe looked at him with tenderness, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Me neither,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his.

The nightmare from the night before faded into smoke, and all she could focus on was this—how lighthearted he could be. And for a moment, time in the underworld seemed to stand still.

They gazed at each other.

Hades wore a satisfied expression. His breathing was still a bit ragged from running around the kitchen and from making her bite the dust—or, more accurately, the flour—in that “little” battle. Erianthe, who was slightly more covered in flour, had rosy cheeks from dodging the god’s playful attacks. Both tried to catch their breath again, but they ended up laughing at the ridiculous mess they’d made.

Hades moved first, brushing off his chiton with an exaggerated gesture.

“Brat, look what you’ve done,” he joked, though the smile on his face betrayed any trace of irritation.

Erianthe giggled and stepped closer to help dust the flour from his robe.

“You started it,” she replied with a mischievous smile.

Their closeness became palpable again. Their hands brushed unintentionally, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them in its center. They couldn’t deny it—there was something pulling them together, something neither of them could resist.

Hades looked at Erianthe, his dark eyes studying her with a feeling he couldn’t quite put into words.

“You know…” he began, his voice low. “It’s been a very long time since I cooked with anyone. Especially a mortal.”

Erianthe blinked in surprise at his confession.

“I guess that means I should feel special, then,” she whispered, smiling softly.

Hades nodded, taking one of her hands gently into his own.

“You are.”

The honesty in his voice left her speechless. He moved even closer.

“How about we do this more often?”

“What? Cook together?” Eri teased.

Hades leaned in, his warm breath brushing her cheek.

“Spend time together,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to her hand, still cradled in his.

Erianthe’s cheeks turned crimson at the gentle warmth of his lips on her skin. Her heart raced wildly in her chest.

Neither of them could tear their eyes away from each other. Lately, there was something pulling them together, urging them to share these moments. Deep down, Erianthe knew she was dying to kiss him—just like that time in her room when they almost did.

Still, she didn’t dare. She was afraid to be the one to cross that line, to misread the signs and lose these precious moments with him. She preferred things just the way they were, even if she couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

“ERI!”

And just like that, the magic of the moment shattered with the arrival of two all-too-familiar troublemakers and a gorgon who walked in with a smug grin, catching the Lord of the Dead holding the girl’s hand.

“Well, well… Are we interrupting something?” Euryale asked with a teasing smile.

The two sprang apart as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks. Erianthe backed away from Hades so quickly she nearly tripped over one of the chairs in the cafeterium, her face completely flushed.

Hades wasn’t faring much better.

His flames flickered and rose slightly higher than usual—a sure sign of his inner turmoil.

“What in the Underworld are you doing here?!” he growled, frowning deeply, his dark eyes flashing with irritation.

Panic and Pain glanced at each other nervously before recovering quickly.

“Ahem… well, we were just coming to check on breakfast,” said Panic, waving his hands.

“Yes, yes! Breakfast!” added Pain, nodding vigorously.

Euryale crossed her arms and smiled playfully.

“Seems like you two were having a good time,” she said in a sing-song voice, dragging a finger along the counter. “Who started the flour war? Was it you, Eri?”
Erianthe let out a choked noise of indignation.

“What? Me? It was Hades! Besides, we weren’t doing anything!” she exclaimed, her face still burning with embarrassment.

“Enough! If you came for breakfast, it’s not ready yet. Don’t be a nuisance—and vanish before I fry you both,” the god snapped, his irritation flaring so strongly that his flames began to glow orange.

The imps obediently shuffled over to their usual table, and Euryale followed them—though not before giving Erianthe one last cheeky grin.

The daughter of Hercules got back to work finishing the breakfast—which thankfully didn’t take much more time—while Hades, with a snap of his fingers, made the floury chaos vanish instantly.

Just then, Giles appeared, and the few other Underworld subordinates began filtering into the cafeterium, drawn by the promise of their first meal of the day. Once the food was ready, Erianthe brought it to the table, where everyone—Hades included—was already waiting.

“This looks amazing!” Euryale exclaimed as she saw the spread.

“Eri’s a great cook,” said Pain, already digging in.

Euryale took a bite of her food and let out a satisfied sound.

“This is delicious! I haven’t eaten this well in ages!” the gorgon declared.

Erianthe smiled proudly—she always put effort into preparing a good meal. She had just started eating when the gorgon suddenly spoke up:

“So you're the daughter of Hercules,” Euryale said, her voice curious.

At once, the daughter of Greece’s most famous hero stopped eating and looked at her. She wasn’t entirely sure what kind of expression the gorgon was giving her. Hades, on the other hand, was watching the exchange closely. Something about Euríale’s sudden interest in her father didn’t sit right with him. He decided to stay quiet and observe—ready to step in if she tried anything.

“Yes, I am,” Erianthe replied. There was no use in lying, not when she had practically shouted it while escaping from Echidna.

“No way! I thought Hercules’ entire family was dead! And it turns out, the mortal trying to sneak into the monsters’ lair is none other than his daughter. And you're fantastic with a bow! I didn’t think you’d have such sharp aim!” Euryale replied, genuinely excited.

“Uh…?” Erianthe was speechless. The rest of the table seemed just as caught off guard by the gorgon’s enthusiasm.

“Who taught you? Hercules? Or his trainer, Phil?”

Euryale looked like a child meeting her favorite hero, and Erianthe couldn’t help but smile.

“It started with Phil. He taught me how to ‘fight’, made me learn the rules of being a hero, and he was the first to notice I had talent with the bow. My father, though… he didn’t like it. He didn’t want his daughter fighting, let alone getting hurt,” she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Your father forbade you from training?” the gorgon asked, surprised.

“Pretty much, yeah. I adore my dad—I love him dearly—but he treated me like I was some fragile vase that might shatter at any moment. His plan was to marry me off to someone who could protect me and give me a comfortable life.”

“And your mother? Was she okay with that?” asked Hades, irritated. His former subordinate would never have supported such nonsense. He already knew that the idiot of a nephew had once tried to arrange a marriage between Eri and the prince of Thebes, and that infuriated him. Yet, he was secretly relieved it had never come to pass. The thought of Erianthe being promised to someone else… bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“Mom never liked that idea,” Erianthe answered proudly. “She always told my dad that women aren’t trophies to be handed out, and that everyone should have the freedom to find their happiness.”

That made Hades smile. That's so Meg—rebellious, untamed. In many ways, Erianthe reminded him of her. However, unlike his former subordinate, his daughter had a light about her that could brighten any room, especially when she smiled, “Her smile shines brighter than the sun Apollo drags across the sky each day,” the god of the dead thought to himself.

“I like your mother,” said the gorgon with a grin. “So, did Phil teach you everything you know about archery?”

Erianthe shook her head gently.

“He taught me many things, but when it comes to archery, my true mentor was Dione—the Queen of Thebes,” she replied with a smile tinged with nostalgia.

Silence fell over the table. Everyone stared at her in stunned disbelief.

“The queen?!” they all exclaimed at once.

“Yes,” Erianthe said calmly, “Dione was a descendant of the Amazons. She always said I had a gift… that I could become a great archer.”

“I would’ve loved to meet her! An Amazon!” Euryale cried, visibly excited.

Erianthe gave a faint smile, but this one lacked joy. It was empty, hollow. The memory of Dione still hurt—like a wound that refused to heal.

“Unfortunately, she’s no longer with us,” she murmured, trying to hold back her tears. “She died many years ago.”

“Really? What happened to her?” Panic asked cautiously.

“She was murdered,” Erianthe answered coldly, her voice sharp and firm as a blade.

Her gaze darkened at the memory, a flash of pain and buried rage flickering in her eyes—something that didn’t go unnoticed by Hades.

What else is she hiding? How much has she endured all these years? Why won’t she share it with me?

The King of the Underworld watched her in silence, his expression unreadable.

“Eri, I… I’m sorry,” Euryale said softly, her tone sincere.

“Don’t worry, Euryale.” Erianthe replied with a bitter smile. “Dione was a strong woman. But even she couldn’t stand against Licario and his men. After all, his personal guard is made up of assassins.”

At that revelation, everyone around the table paled.

Assassins? What kind of king surrounds himself with murderers?

The question hung in the air, unspoken. But Hades didn’t flinch. He already knew the story—the bastard who had burned her home to the ground, slaughtered her grandparents, and taken Lysander from her.

Erianthe continued, her voice colder now, her eyes hardened with hate.

“King Licario commands the worst scum imaginable,” Erianthe said firmly, though her eyes betrayed the shadows of her past. “Pyros, the pyromaniac, is a sadist who takes pleasure in torturing and killing his victims by setting them ablaze. I know it. I was fortunate enough to survive one of his incursions.”

A shiver ran down her spine as the memory resurfaced. For a brief moment, her gaze drifted into the void, but she forced herself to go on.

“Toxicón, the silent assassin. A master of poisons. He was the one who killed the queen with cyanide. And Hybris, a girl of my age,” she paused, swallowing down the bitterness rising in her throat. “She earned her place in the personal guard when, at just eight years old, she beheaded our teacher without hesitation.”

Her voice hardened even further as she spoke the next name:

“Caestus, the 'Iron Fist', is the master of the underworld. He controls the prostitution, underground fighting clubs, and the black market in Thebes.”
The silence that followed weighed heavy over the table. But in Erianthe’s eyes, there was nothing but tightly contained rage. The others stared at her, stunned, but she barely blinked before continuing.

“But you know, the worst of them all is Catharsis, the puppeteer. He pulls the strings from the shadows. No one knows his true face, but those who’ve been in his presence are never the same again.”

“Now I understand why the Children of the Revolution exist,” Euríale murmured, breaking the silence. “Without them…”

“Thebes would’ve fallen long ago,” Erianthe finished resolutely.

Hades narrowed his eyes, studying every detail of her expression. Her voice held fury, yes, but also a fierce determination—like the weight of that fight rested squarely on her shoulders.

“The Children of the Revolution.” Euryale echoed. “Are you… part of them?”

Erianthe met her gaze without flinching.

“Yes, I am. The Children of the Revolution are the only ones who dared to stand up to Licario,” she declared, her voice unwavering.

Euryale leaned on her elbow, eyeing her with growing interest.

“I’d love to meet them in person, maybe even join them,” she said with an eager smile.

Erianthe looked at her with surprise before offering a curious smile.

“Really? Why? I never thought a gorgon would want to get involved in human affairs.”

“My sister, Medusa, always said not all humans are bad,” Euryale replied, her tone softer now. “Besides, she was a very close friend of your father, Hercules.”
Erianthe blinked, visibly surprised.

“Seriously? I had no idea.”

“Yes,” the gorgon nodded. “They met back when your father was attending Prometheus Academy.”

“Pff… I remember that,” Hades cut in with an ironic smile, crossing his arms. “I’ll never forget the disappointment I felt. When Medusa saved that fool of a nephew from being turned to stone forever.”

Erianthe raised an eyebrow.

“Wait! Seriously? You were about to let my dad get petrified?”

Hades smirked mischievously.

“Let’s just say… unfortunately, my plan didn’t go as expected,” he said with a casual air, then paused, his expression softening. “Although, if he had stayed petrified, you would’ve never been born.”

The comment caught Erianthe off guard. A faint flush crept up her cheeks, but before she could say anything, Euryale burst out laughing.

“Well, well! That almost sounded like a compliment, Lord of the Underworld!”

Hades rolled his eyes and huffed, turning his attention back to his food. Erianthe, however, still felt the weight of his words lingering in her chest. There was something sincere in them—more than Hades likely intended to show.

“Eri, I’m curious, have you ever seen Phoenix?” Euryale asked with interest.

“Who’s Phoenix?” Pain interrupted, frowning.

“Well…” Erianthe started to answer, but the gorgon cut her off abruptly.

“What? You’ve never heard of him?” Euryale exclaimed, staring at everyone in disbelief.

The others exchanged puzzled looks and shook their heads.

“He’s the leader of the revolution. The founder of the Children of the Revolution,” she explained with excitement. “He’s the one who defied King Licario by shooting an arrow at him and declaring war. Or at least… that’s what the stories say.”

“You sound like a huge fan of this Phoenix guy,” Pain commented, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I am!” Euryale said enthusiastically. “Since that day, Phoenix has led the revolution with courage. He’s a symbol of hope for so many.”

Erianthe offered a faint smile at the gorgon's words but remained silent.

“So… you really want to join the revolution, Euryale?” Erianthe asked, watching her with curiosity.

“Yes, but also, I would like to tell Phoenix something.”

“Something? What is it?” Erianthe leaned in slightly.

The gorgon’s expression turned more serious.

“I know who made a pact with Echidna.”

Silence fell over the table like a heavy weight. Everyone held their breath. A chill ran down Erianthe’s spine before she found the courage to speak.

“Euríale, please tell me it wasn’t someone from Thebes.”

The gorgon averted her gaze uncomfortably, then let out a sigh.

“Well… I think it was,” she admitted at last. “It was a woman, stunningly beautiful, with long black hair. She introduced herself to us as the High Priestess of Thebes.”

Erianthe felt the blood drain from her face.

“What… what did you say?” she whispered, completely pale.

Hades clenched his fists. His expression darkened, and the flames above his head flickered violently. That woman. That damned woman who had stolen the favor of the monsters. What had she offered them in return?

Erianthe swallowed hard. Her thoughts raced, going through every possibility, every disaster that alliance could unleash.

“Euryale, tell me what she said,” her voice trembled, urgency lacing her words.

“Eri, I…” the gorgon hesitated, biting her lip, unsure if she should go on.

“Please,” Erianthe pleaded, her voice cracking.

Hades furrowed his brow. He didn’t like what he was seeing. The desperation in her eyes, the fear freezing her in place—something was terribly wrong. And he had a sinking feeling that it was about to be confirmed.

“She promised that if the monsters supported her cause, she would hand Thebes to them on a silver platter.”

Erianthe felt her stomach twist into a knot. Her mind processed the words painfully slowly, as if refusing to accept what she was hearing.

“So that means…” she murmured, barely audible. “They’re going to let the monsters attack Thebes… to devour the people.”

The weight of that truth hit the table like a death sentence. Suddenly, Erianthe stood up, her eyes vacant, her gaze far away.

“Erianthe?” the imps called cautiously.

The girl didn’t respond. Her gaze was distant, her body tense, and her lips trembled as she fought to hold back tears.

“Eri?” This time it was Hades who spoke, his voice firmer, closer. But it was no use. Erianthe was lost in her thoughts.

The silence in the room became unbearable. A suffocating pressure hung in the air, as if it had thickened around them. Erianthe felt a knot in her throat, her breathing was erratic, and her hands trembled on the table. Her mind was stuck in a loop of thoughts.

“Thebes… My friends… My family…”

Hades watched her silently. He saw her unraveling, trapped in her panic, and the feeling was disturbingly familiar. Without thinking too much, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it firmly but with a gentle touch.

Erianthe flinched at the contact, as if waking from a nightmare. She blinked several times, slowly coming back to herself, but when she finally looked up at the god of the underworld, Hades didn’t like what he saw in her eyes.

It was fear.

Fear and uncertainty.

Hades felt a heavy weight in his chest. He wanted to say something, to stop her from falling further into that spiral of anguish. But just as he made the slightest move, Erianthe quickly pulled her hand away.

“Oh gods, it’s late.” Her voice sounded forced, as if she were pretending everything was fine. “Sorry, guys, I really have to get started, or I’ll run out of time.”

And without looking at anyone, without giving anyone the chance to stop her, she walked out of the dining hall without looking back.

Hades stared at the door through which Erianthe had vanished, unmoving, his brow furrowed. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go after her, or give her space?

He knew full well the news had affected her, but he didn’t know how much. And that troubled him. His flames flickered faintly as he drummed his fingers on the table, lost in thought.

The imps, noticing the tension, exchanged looks and decided to step in.

“Come on, Euryale! It’s time for your orientation,” said Panic with forced enthusiasm.

“Orient-what?” asked the gorgon, raising an eyebrow.

“Orientation,” clarified Pain with an air of importance. “Every new employee needs training about the underworld.”

“We're a serious business,” added Panic proudly, puffing out his chest.

Euryale stared at them in disbelief but didn’t object. With a shrug, she picked up her breakfast and followed them.

The three left the dining hall, leaving Hades alone, lost in his thoughts, absentmindedly stirring the food on his plate. The aroma of the breakfast Erianthe had prepared lingered in the air, but for the first time in ages, the food tasted like nothing to him.

Throughout the day, Erianthe buried herself in work, cleaning and sculpting the columns of the throne room with near-obsessive focus. She avoided Hades, the imps, and Euryale, making sure to stay busy so she wouldn’t have to face her emotions.

But her mind kept drifting.

“What should I do? How can I contact Thebes to warn them?”

Each tool strike against the stone, each careful carve into the sculpture, served only to mask her rising desperation. For the first time since arriving in the Underworld, she skipped her lessons in the library with Hades. She didn’t show up to prepare dinner, either.

When the time came and her absence became obvious, the god of the underworld felt a rising fury bubbling inside him.

Annoyance. Frustration.

So, now she was avoiding him?

The flame above his head burned brighter, reflecting his growing agitation. His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest of his throne. Erianthe could dodge him all she wanted, but eventually, they would talk.

He was so caught up in his anger that he didn’t notice the shouts breaking the palace’s silence at first.

“Boss! It’s Erianthe!” shouted the imps in unison as they burst into the throne room.

Hades scowled, his irritation quickly turning into alarm.

“We found her passed out in one of the palace corridors during the orientation tour!” exclaimed Euryale, her voice laced with worry.

The god didn’t wait to hear more. Instantly, he vanished in a burst of blue flames, leaving behind only a sweltering heat.

It didn’t matter how upset he had been. Erianthe was everything to him.

And he had to find her.

Chapter Text

Hades didn’t waste a second. In a swirl of black smoke, he materialized beside Erianthe in the corridor.

The sight before him stopped him cold.

“Erianthe!” he called, his voice echoing through the hallway.

He dropped to his knees without hesitation, not caring about the chill of the stone floor. Carefully, he gathered her into his arms. Her body was burning up, her breathing shallow, and a sickly flush spread across her sweat-soaked cheeks.

He pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned deeply.

“Fever,” he muttered, worry clouding his usually unreadable gaze.

At that moment, the imps came stumbling around the corner, with Euryale following closely behind.

“Boss!” Pain and Panic shouted in unison.

Hades didn’t turn to face them. His eyes remained locked on Erianthe’s flushed, fevered face.

“Idiots!” he snapped, voice low and dangerous. “The first thing you should’ve done was call Agapios.”

“We’re sorry! We—”

“Go. Now. Tell him I’m taking her to my chambers.” His tone cut like a blade. “And remember… mutilation later.”

The imps bolted down the corridor, casting each other terrified glances at the promise of future punishment.

Euryale stayed behind, saying nothing. Quietly, she crouched to help gather the items Erianthe had dropped. Scattered on the floor were crumpled charcoal sketches—drawings of her mother, her brother, and her friends. Some were faded, others drawn more recently. Among them, catching the faint light of the corridor, was a small yet precious object: her father’s medallion.

“What was she doing with all of this?” Hades thought. He couldn’t ignore the sketch of Lysander either, and it made something twist painfully in his chest.

Without another word, he lifted her into his arms, holding her with utmost care, and strode swiftly down the halls toward his private quarters. His face was stoic, but inside, he was spiraling. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Once inside his room, Hades gently laid her on his bed. Her breathing remained shallow, and her skin still burned with fever. It wasn’t long before the imps returned—this time with Agapios, the Underworld’s old physician, a hunched skeleton in a tattered robe.

“Examine her, Agapios,” Hades ordered in a commanding voice, his eyes never leaving the unconscious girl.

“Of course, my lord,” the skeleton rasped, his voice dry and brittle. “However… I suggest you leave the room for a few minutes.”

Hades narrowed his eyes. “And why is that?”

“To examine her properly, I’ll need to remove part of her clothing. It would be appropriate for Miss Euryale to stay and assist me,” Agapios explained with complete professionalism.

“What? Absolutely not!” Hades snapped, folding his arms. “I’m not leaving her alone with anyone—”

“Oh, for the gods’ sake, Hades!” Euryale interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. And don’t be a pervert. It’s a medical examination. Let him do his job—you’ll see your precious Erianthe again in no time.”

“Precious? And did you seriously just call me a pervert?” he growled, clearly offended.

“Come on, big guy. I’ll make sure she’s safe,” Euryale said with a wink as she gave him a firm push toward the door.

Before Hades could protest, the door slammed shut in his face.

“Damn gorgon,” he muttered, standing there with his arms still crossed. “And I have to put up with that walking pile of bones, too.”

Pain and Panic watched him from the other end of the corridor, saying nothing, too scared to even breathe. At that moment, Hades was as tense as a bowstring drawn to its limit—and all he wanted was for Erianthe to open her eyes.

The minutes dragged on like hours. His flames flickered restlessly, mirroring the storm of thoughts churning in his mind. He hated this feeling. He hated feeling powerless.

Finally, the door creaked open. Agapios stepped out first, followed by Euryale.

“Well?” Hades asked, his voice low and serious.

Agapios gave his skull a slight shake. “It’s nothing serious, but her body is exhausted. She’s been pushing herself far too hard. Rest and fluids will bring her fever down.”

“Is that all?” Hades pressed, frowning. He didn’t sound convinced.

“That’s all,” Agapios confirmed with a slight clatter of his jaw. “But if she doesn’t rest now, it could be far worse next time.”

Beside him, Euryale lowered her gaze, her voice barely a whisper.

“It was my fault.”

Hades glanced at her from the corner of his eye but said nothing. Now wasn’t the time for blame or apologies. Without a word, he stepped forward and gently pushed open the door to reenter the room.

“Leave us alone,” he ordered without turning back.

Pain and Panic, who had remained quietly in the hallway, exchanged a worried glance. They wanted to stay—to be there for Erianthe—but they knew better than to disobey Hades. Lowering their heads, they slipped away without a sound. Euryale let out a quiet sigh before following them, casting one last look at the girl from the doorway.

Hades closed the door behind them. Silence settled over the room like a shroud.

He walked slowly to the edge of the bed, where Erianthe lay. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, a damp cloth resting on her forehead. Her breathing had calmed slightly, and though her eyes remained closed, her face no longer held pain. She was calm.

Hades sat in the chair beside her bed, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, his gaze fixed on her.

He was restless and irritated.

“Damn it, Erianthe. Why do you keep everything to yourself? Why?” Of course, there was no response. “Rest now… but we’re going to have a long talk later.” He sighed, resigned.

No matter how long it took, he would stay by her side. Watching over her.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but at some point, he found himself holding her hand, checking for any change. Still the same.

The Lord of the Underworld sighed and dipped the cloth into the bowl of cold water Euríale had left. With care, he ran it across her forehead, hoping to ease her fever. Every so often, he lifted her head gently and helped her drink small sips of water.

More time passed, and then he noticed it.

Erianthe was trembling.

At first, he thought it was the fever, but the trembling grew stronger. Hades furrowed his brow.

“Eri…?”

No answer. Her body curled instinctively beneath the blankets, trying to find warmth.

He snapped his fingers and conjured a thick quilt over her—but it wasn’t enough.

His jaw clenched, and he summoned his fire to warm the room, raising the temperature steadily, hoping it would help.

Still, the shivering didn’t stop.

Frustrated, he dragged a hand through his flaming hair.

“What in Tartarus… why isn’t this working?” he muttered, irritation mixing with worry.

He didn’t have many options left. Hades looked at the bed, at Erianthe. And he knew what he had to do. With a snap of his fingers, he changed his robe for a sleeping tunic and slipped into bed beside her.

At first, he lay still, feeling more uncomfortable than he would ever admit. But then Erianthe trembled again, and instinct took over.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. The effect was immediate. Erianthe snuggled into him, as if her body instinctively recognized the warmth he offered. Her face came to rest against his neck, and her breathing began to slow.

Hades felt her shivering ease. The fever was still there, but at least she wasn’t trembling from the cold anymore.

With a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes.

“You’re giving me a headache, brat,” he whispered before sleep finally claimed him.

Sometime during the night, Erianthe woke with a strange sensation of being wrapped in warmth. It was comforting—perhaps even too comforting.

She blinked slowly and found herself face-to-face with a sight she hadn't expected. Her breath caught in her throat.

Hades was fast asleep, his brow relaxed. His ashen skin had a softer tone under the gentle light of the room. His sharp jawline, the curve of his nose, the slow rise and fall of his chest… Even the flickering blue flames on his head danced calmly, casting a serene glow on his face.

Erianthe flushed bright red.

She was sleeping… in the arms of the god of the dead.

She tried to move, but the moment she did, his arm tightened instinctively around her waist, pulling her even closer.

A shiver ran down her spine—but this time, it wasn’t from the fever. It wasn’t the first time they’d hugged, nor the first time she felt the warmth of Hades’ body. But it was the first time they had slept like this. And she had to admit… it was a very pleasant feeling.

She couldn’t look away from his face. It was the first time she had seen him so at peace.

She knew she hadn’t been fair to him that day. She’d shut herself off, trapped in her fear and worries, and avoided him. Deep down, she was afraid that if she asked Hades to let her return to Thebes to warn them about Echidna’s potential attack, he would say no. But another part of her reminded her that she could trust him. After all, he had shared his own painful past with her.

Without thinking, she lifted a trembling hand and brushed her fingers across his cheek.

His skin was warm—warmer than she expected.

She caught herself thinking how… attractive the god of the underworld truly was. Not in a conventional way, but in a way that drew her in deeply, even if she didn’t quite understand why.

His intense gaze, his sly smile, that dry, dark humor… But what she liked most was his mind—how wise he was, how well-read. And how just he was with the souls in his care. He wasn’t at all the tyrant her mother once described. He was hardworking, responsible…

And gods, he was strong. Muscular. No, he wasn’t a classic hero—but he had a godly build and presence. She still couldn’t get the image of him in that armor out of her mind—the one he wore to sneak past the monster lair. He had looked wonderful in it. His usual robes didn’t do his physique any justice.

Her finger traced the line of his jaw, down the slope of his neck, where his skin felt even warmer.

What would her parents think of these thoughts? Of these feelings?

But she didn’t care anymore.

And then, she whispered what her heart had been feeling for some time.

“I really like you, Aidoneus.”

She leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to the warm cheek of the god.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavier.

Erianthe blinked rapidly, trying to process what she had just done.

“By the gods, what did I just say?!” Her own words echoed in her head, pounding like a hammer. Her heart was beating so loudly she was certain Hades could hear it.
"I really like you, Aidoneus." Just thinking about it made her blush down to her ears.

She had said it! Her cheeks were burning—she must be completely red. Embarrassment crashed into her like a wave. Thankfully, Hades was asleep, but she had to get out of that room.

She couldn’t stay there. Not after confessing. Her very first confession, and she had done it while the person in question was asleep. Brilliant. She couldn’t have been more cowardly.

With the stealth of a thief, she began to move slowly, carefully sliding her body away so as not to wake him. She just had to shift a little, free her waist and—
Just as she was about to rise from the bed, she felt something warm holding her back.

An arm.

A strong arm wrapped firmly around her once again, keeping her in place.

Before she could react, she heard a deep, groggy voice behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going, brat?”

Erianthe froze.

No.

No.

No way.

Her entire body went cold.

She started panicking, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head. And there he was.

Hades was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his expression lazy but with a glimmer of amusement.

His flaming blue hair flickered softly, casting a faint glow, and his face looked relaxed, though his arm remained firm around her waist, keeping her from moving.

Once again, heat surged to her face in a flash.

“He’s awake!” she thought, mortified.

She didn’t know what to do—what to say. Her brain had short-circuited. But if she didn’t say something, Hades would get suspicious. So, she tried to sound casual.

“I-I… I’m feeling much better now, so… I-I should probably get up.”

Hades didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. “You’ve still got a bit of a fever. Rest a little longer. I don’t want you fainting in the hallway again.”

“No, really! I’m totally fine,” she said quickly, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

Hades raised an eyebrow.

“Brat, you can barely talk without getting breathless,” he teased, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Or is there another reason you're getting all flustered?”

His teasing tone only made Erianthe want to bury herself under the covers and never come out. She tried to wriggle away again, but Hades didn’t let go.

“Don't get up. Stay. Go back to sleep and rest. And don’t wake me up again.”

The temperature in the room felt like it had risen.

“How did I end up in this situation?” thought the daughter of Hercules and Megara.

The day before, she had already felt something wasn’t right—when her body began to weaken, and dizziness overtook her—but she never imagined she’d end up unconscious on the floor of one of the palace’s hallways in the Underworld. She had spent part of the afternoon in a quiet corner overlooking the River Styx, distracting herself by drawing to calm her thoughts.

And now, here she was. In Hades’ room. It wasn’t the first time she’d been there, but it was the first time she’d woken up in his bed, pressed against his muscular body.

“Let me get up,” she tried again, although her voice didn’t sound as firm as she’d intended.

“No,” came the god’s simple reply.

“What?!”

Hades rested his chin on his free hand and studied her calmly, as if he were genuinely enjoying watching her squirm.

“You can’t leave.”

“And why not?!”

Hades gave her a crooked smile.

“Because I don’t want you to.”

Erianthe opened her mouth to protest but stopped short when she realized something. The god’s grip on her waist wasn’t tight or forceful. She could leave if she really wanted to, but for some reason, she would rather not move. Was it the warmth?

Her heart continued to race in her chest, but Hades didn’t miss the shift in her expression.

“What’s wrong, brat? Realizing it’s not so bad being here?” His voice held a teasing note, but there was something more in his gaze—something that made her shiver.

Erianthe pressed her lips together and looked away, thoroughly embarrassed. “Don’t be an idiot!” she snapped.

Hades chuckled softly, a low, genuine sound, before leaning back against the pillow.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a relaxed tone. “But at least sleep a bit more. I’m not letting you run away from me again.”

Erianthe wanted to argue, but exhaustion quickly overpowered her. Her body refused to move. So, she took a deep breath and let out a sigh of defeat.

There was no escape.

Not this time.

Slowly, she allowed herself to relax against the mattress, though her nerves still tingled from his presence at her back.

She closed her eyes, letting herself be enveloped by the warmth that Hades radiated. And before she knew it, her breathing began to sync with his.

It didn’t take long before she drifted off again. Her breaths grew slow, and even, her body was finally at ease after the fever that had drained her.

Unconsciously, in the middle of sleep, she cuddled once more against the warm body beside her.

Against Hades—who lay wide awake.

He felt her instinctively nestle closer, her face pressing gently against his chest, and the arm he still had around her waist tensed slightly as he remained perfectly still so as not to wake her.

Erianthe sighed softly, her forehead resting against his gray-toned skin. And unknowingly, she mumbled a small confession under her breath, barely audible:
“Aidoneus…”

Hades held his breath. That name… The way she said it always sent a chill down his spine. The way it rolled off her tongue made something in his chest burn.

It was ridiculous, even foolish.

But he liked it—no, he loved it. More than he could ever admit.

The god exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that Erianthe was now fully wrapped around him. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. He felt the way her breath gently grazed his skin. Not only that, but he could even sense every curve of her body. And most surprisingly of all, he could feel his heart racing—a heart he thought had withered long ago.

He couldn’t sleep.

Not after what he’d heard.

“I really like you, Aidoneus.” His mind repeated those words over and over again.

Hades glanced down at the sleeping girl in his arms.

Erianthe’s face was peaceful, her expression completely relaxed, as if for this one moment, not a single worry existed in her world.

And the god felt a warmth bloom deep in his chest.

He liked seeing her like this—calm, unafraid, and free from the weight of her family, her friends, and Thebes.

He couldn’t deny it.

That brat drove him crazy. He liked her so much that it hurt, and he desired her with an intensity he hadn’t felt since his relationship with Persephone.

He loved how strong she was, her stubbornness, her courage, her kindness, and the joy she radiated. That sweetness and passion she put into the smallest things. But most of all, he loved that she wasn’t afraid of him—that she didn’t find him repulsive.

Everything about her, pulled him in like a magnet, in a way he couldn’t resist. She was a light too bright, too alluring, and impossible to ignore. Lysander had been right about her smile—it could illuminate every dark corner of the Underworld.

But all of this was dangerous.

He was a god. And not just any god—the one everyone hated. The one despised by Olympus, even by her parents.

And she was the daughter of his nemesis.

They were total opposites. Hades clenched his jaw.

He shouldn’t desire her. He shouldn’t see her as anything more than a subordinate—or, at best, a friend. Furthermore, he shouldn’t want to taste her lips or crave to hear her voice whispering his name again and again.

But damn it, he did. And he couldn’t ignore it—or worse, he didn’t want to.

The god ran a hand down his face, then dragged his fingers through his flaming hair, as if that might clear his thoughts.

Just then, Erianthe let out a soft sigh in her sleep, snuggling deeper against his chest. And Hades felt his last shred of resistance begin to crumble.

He couldn’t help it.

He gently brushed a lock of her orange hair away from her face, allowing himself a closer look.

By the gods, she was beautiful.

Her slightly parted lips, her skin flushed with warmth, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks. And the worst part? He knew she felt the same. She was his.

Not in a possessive way. But because Erianthe had chosen him. She had accepted him for who he was and told him how she felt.

Yet, he didn’t know what to do with that truth. He didn’t know what to do with her. But one thing was crystal clear at that moment…He would rather not let her go.
Not now. Not ever.

And with that thought, as night still wrapped the room in silence, Hades stayed still, holding her closer, resting his chin against her hair, and breathing in her scent.
Even if he couldn’t admit it out loud…

Erianthe really did mean the world to him.

The night passed. The Underworld remained in a deep, undisturbed silence. In Hades’ chamber, the only sound was the steady rhythm of two interwoven breaths—that of the god and the mortal who still lay asleep.

The King of the Underworld didn’t know when he’d closed his eyes again, or when Morpheus had pulled him to sleep.

Erianthe still slept in his arms, her warm body curled against his. The heat of her skin, the way she fit so perfectly against him, the rise and fall of her breathing in sync with his… it was comforting. And very, very pleasant.

Which is why, naturally, Hades was the first to wake.

He slowly cracked his eyes open, heavy with sleep, and the first thing he saw was Erianthe’s face—peacefully asleep, just inches from his own. He stayed still, watching her in the dim glow of the room. She looked so calm, so vulnerable, and so beautiful.

Her slightly parted lips, her tousled hair spread across the pillow, the soft glow of warmth on her skin…
Tempting. Far too tempting.

Hades swallowed hard and looked away. “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.”

It was far too early to be dealing with the intensity of those feelings.

But just as he tried to shift, Erianthe let out a soft whimper and snuggled deeper into his chest.

Shit.

The King of the Underworld let out a silent sigh, feeling his self-control slipping. The girl was like a damn barnacle, clinging to him with total trust—completely unaware of the chaos she was stirring in him.

An idea crossed his mind. What if he gave her a little payback?

A mischievous grin tugged at his lips. Without warning, he slid his hands along her sides and began tickling her.

The reaction was immediate.

“E-Eh!” Erianthe jolted awake, stifling a scream between involuntary bursts of laughter. “No! Aidoneus, stop!”

But the god had no intention of stopping.

“What’s wrong, brat?” he asked with a mocking grin. “Ticklish, are we?”

“Aidoneus, seriously! Stop, please!” she begged through her laughter, trying to push his hands away—but he was faster. With a swift movement, he shifted his weight over her, pinning her against the mattress. Now she was in real trouble.

Erianthe was completely trapped beneath him, her chest rising and falling with her shallow breaths. Hades loomed over her, dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. The playful atmosphere faded, replaced by a very different kind of tension.

Something more dangerous. And far more tempting.

Neither of them moved; their gazes locked with fierce intensity. They were far too close. Hades’s lips hovered mere inches from Erianthe’s.

The soft blue flame atop his head flickered gently, reflected in the wide, clear eyes of the girl. If he just leaned in a little more… Hades felt his breath hitch.

Erianthe didn’t look away.

She didn’t flinch.

She didn’t run.

Instead, she closed her eyes, waiting.

The god’s gaze dropped to her lips—so tempting, slightly parted. The moment he had longed for, imagined over and over, was finally within reach.
Just a little closer—

“Boss!”

BANG!

The door burst open.

Erianthe and Hades flinched simultaneously.

She froze completely beneath him, and the god tensed like he’d been caught committing a crime.

At the doorway, Panic and Pain stood staring at them—faces a mix of confusion and terror.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF TARTARUS ARE YOU DOING?!” roared Hades, leaping off the bed, absolutely furious. The flames on his head turned bright orange as he hurled twin fireballs at his idiotic minions, scorching them on the spot.

Erianthe buried her face in her hands. She must’ve turned bright red. The shame of being caught in such an intimate moment overwhelmed her. She wanted to disappear right then and there—but at the same time, she was frustrated. She’d been this close to kissing Hades, and gods, she really wanted to.

The soot-covered imps shook themselves off, blackened from head to toe.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt!” Panic whimpered, trembling under the weight of Hades’s glare.

“But it’s important!” Pain added, flailing his arms frantically.

Hades shot them a deathly glare, his flames still flaring with rage.

“It better be important, or next time I’ll reduce you to ash!” he snapped.

The imps swallowed hard and took a step back before finally delivering the bombshell:

“The Fates showed up unannounced, and they want to see you!”

Hades blinked.

The Fates?

“And what the hell do those three want now? Come for tea, have they? If so, tell them to come back another time. I'm busy.”

Pain and Panic exchanged nervous glances before one of them muttered:

“They said… they want to see the daughter of Hercules.”

Silence fell over the room.

Erianthe sat up abruptly, eyes wide with shock. Hades, meanwhile, felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine.

He knew better than anyone—when the Fates came calling, it was never without reason. And if they had come for Erianthe, it meant something big was about to happen.

Something that could change everything.

“Fine,” he muttered, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s not keep the old hags waiting.”

Erianthe nodded slowly, still not fully processing what was happening. Hades got out of bed and held out a hand to her.

“Come on, Eri,” he said quietly, a rare seriousness in his voice. “Let’s see what fate they’ve woven for you.”

Erianthe swallowed hard and took his hand. Together, they walked out of the room, fingers interlaced—unaware that beyond that door, the threads of destiny were about to unravel before them.

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: This chapter contains very explicit scenes of violence.

Erianthe couldn’t help feeling nervous. What did the Fates want? What were they going to reveal? A part of her already suspected it, and that terrified her. She felt that something terrible was about to happen, something that could change everyone's fate.

Beside her, Hades glanced at her. He didn’t need to read her mind to know that a storm was raging inside that little head of hers. It hurt him to see her like this. More than he would ever admit. Because if there was one expression he wanted to see on that face, it was her smile. Her smile could light even the darkest corners of the underworld—even his heart.

They were holding hands. At first, he had offered it only to help her get out of bed, but, for some reason, neither of them had wanted to let go afterward. The gesture, although simple, felt comforting. Intimate.

Seeing the tension reflected on Erianthe's face, Hades gently squeezed her hand. She noticed and looked at him.

“Everything will be fine, you’ll see,” he said serenely.

“Then why do I feel like something terrible is going to happen?” she replied, her voice trembling, showing a hint of distress.

“Maybe it will,” he admitted truthfully. “But you know what? I'll be with you. No matter what.”

Erianthe stopped in her tracks, surprised by that declaration. She looked at him with tenderness. That the very Lord of the Underworld would offer her comfort like that. It was insane.

“Promise me you'll always stay by my side,” she said suddenly.

Hades looked at her, puzzled at first. No one in their right mind would want the god of the dead by their side. But Erianthe… she was different. He raised a hand and took her by the chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. Those unique, beautiful eyes.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

Without saying another word, Erianthe threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. Hades held her gently, feeling his chest fill with warmth, a feeling he was slowly learning thanks to her.

“Although, we have an unfinished conversation, brat,” he murmured, trying to soften the overwhelming emotion.

Erianthe pulled away a little, looking at him. Her cheeks turned red. Hades immediately knew what she was thinking—about that almost-kiss, for the second time. Before she could misinterpret it, he rushed to clarify:

“I mean, I want you to tell me more about what you’ve had to endure all these years in Thebes. Sometimes I feel like you don’t trust me.”

Erianthe’s eyes widened in surprise. Of course, she trusted him! But the moment just hadn’t come up. Besides, talking about such a painful past wasn’t easy.

“I trust you, Hades. Truly. If you want, when we’re done with the Fates, I can tell you everything you want to know,” she assured, taking his large hand between hers.

He smiled and gently leaned down to kiss her knuckles.

“Don’t think you’re getting away without talking about this,” he said, gesturing toward their intertwined hands with a mischievous grin.

Erianthe blushed again, to which the god chuckled softly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll talk when the time is right.”

They arrived at the throne room, where the Fates were already waiting for them, alongside a very cheerful Euryale. The gorgon raised an eyebrow as she saw them enter holding hands, a sly smile curving her lips. Finally, she thought with satisfaction. It was something special, especially for those two, who appeared to never intend to cross the line. It was clear to anyone with eyes that there was something more than simple friendship between them: that tension, those glances, that closeness that said much more than words ever could.

Behind them came Pain and Panic, exchanging knowing glances. They had witnessed an intimate moment between their master and the daughter of Hercules, and although they didn’t say anything, their smiles said it all. They weren’t as dumb as they looked—at least not always—and they knew perfectly well that Hades was completely smitten with Erianthe.

And honestly, they didn’t mind at all. In fact, they were happy about it. Ever since that orange-haired mortal had appeared, the god of the underworld’s mood had improved significantly. He no longer threatened to mutilate them so often, nor yelled at them for every mistake. He took things more calmly, or it appears so.

The little demons also really liked her because she was so kind to them, so they considered her their friend.

Erianthe, unknowingly, was working miracles in the heart of their boss. And if that meant they would live a bit more peacefully, that he sat on his throne each day with a smile… then so be it.

After all, they were good for each other, even if they didn’t yet know it.

The Fates observed them with no trace of surprise. After all, they were the ones who wove the tapestry of fate. Nothing escaped their knowledge, not even the threads that were beginning to entwine more tightly between the daughter of the hero and the god of the underworld.

“Ladies! What an unexpected and ‘pleasant’ surprise,” Hades said in his smoothest tone, deploying his natural gift for smooth talking. “What brings you to the Underworld this time? Don’t tell me you came for tea. Though I must say, you look radiant as always.”

“Stop flattering us, Hades!” Clotho snapped, though a faint glimmer of amusement sparkled in her tone. “We haven’t come for you. We came to speak with her,” she added, pointing firmly at Erianthe.

“Daughter of Hercules and Megara, step forward. Let us see you properly,” said Atropos in a raspy voice, lifting her head.

Without hesitation, Erianthe stepped forward. She stood tall, raising her chin, though inside her heart was beating wildly. She couldn’t ignore the nerves. It was the first time she faced the Fates. Three figures dressed in black, with withered faces and empty sockets, except for a single eye that they passed among themselves. Their appearance matched perfectly with the stories she had heard as a child. And yet, seeing them in the flesh—or what was left of it—was intimidating.

“Well, young lady,” said Lachesis softly. “You are beautiful and determined, a worthy daughter of Megara. And, of course, strong and brave, like your father. But tell me. Will that bravery be enough to face what is coming?”

Erianthe swallowed hard but remained firm. She looked at the three entities with respect, without lowering her gaze.

“Honorable Fates, please, I beg you to tell me why you are here. Is it about the fate of Thebes?”

“How polite!” exclaimed Clotho with a hint of satisfaction. “It’s a pleasure to reveal prophecies like this. Don’t worry, young Erianthe, you don’t need to be so formal with us.”

“We have come to warn you about what is about to happen,” continued Lachesis, her voice deep and steady.

“But also, to remind you why you became who you are, Erianthe. Or, as you are better known, Phoenix,” added Atropos, with a faint smirk of satisfaction upon seeing the young woman’s face transform completely in shock at the revelation of one of her secrets.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Everyone in the room was left open-mouthed, eyes wide, staring at her as if they had just seen a ghost. Euryale was the first to break the silence, unable to contain her excitement.

“What? You’re Phoenix? The leader of the Children of the Revolution!?” exclaimed the gorgon, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “By all the gods! I have Phoenix in front of me!”

“No way, Eri! You’re the most wanted person in all of Thebes!” added Pain, clearly impressed.

“Yes, yes! We’ve been doing some digging and heard there’s a huge bounty on your head,” Panic chimed in, completely stunned.

But the excitement faded when a deep, irate voice interrupted them.

“Silence!” roared Hades, his blue flames flickering with dangerous intensity. “When were you planning on telling me, Erianthe? When were you going to tell me, you were the leader?”

His tone wasn’t just anger; it was disappointment. Pain. Because this was the girl, he had started to open his heart to, and she had kept something so important from him.

“Hades.” Erianthe whispered, taking a step toward him, though she didn’t break eye contact. “I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t just shout to the world who I am… who I really am. Not when our rules clearly stipulate that we must remain anonymous.”

She paused. Took a deep breath. Her voice trembled slightly, but her tone remained firm.

“It’s one thing to know I’m part of the Revolution, but knowing that I am Phoenix, that’s something entirely different. It’s not just about protecting myself, Hades, but everyone who fights beside me. If my identity were to come out, everything we’ve built. Everything so many have died for… would be in danger.”

Her eyes locked with the god’s—sincere, with a flicker of pleading.

“It was never about trust, but about responsibility.”

Hades said nothing. He simply stared at her with those dark, unreadable eyes. His face showed no emotion, but the flickering of his flames betrayed the turmoil boiling beneath his composed exterior.

Erianthe felt the weight of the silence like a wall between them. She had explained her reasons, honestly, but still, it hurts. It hurts to see him say nothing, especially when she saw the disappointment—and the pain—reflected in his gaze.

The god of the underworld looked away for just a second, clenching his jaw as if trying to steady his temper. His arms, crossed tightly over his chest, were tense.

He knew she was right. That protecting her identity had been the wisest course of action. The most responsible one. But that didn’t make the bitterness of how he’d found out—publicly, like a stranger—any less sharp. Especially when he had begun to think there was something more between them.

Finally, his voice broke the silence.

“We’ve already discussed this on the way here. Still, once this meeting is over,” he said, without looking directly at her, “we’ll have a talk.”

His words didn’t sound like a threat, but they weren’t quite a request either. It was an order. And from his expression, Erianthe could tell Hades was very upset.

She nodded quietly. They had already agreed to talk, but now it would be an uncomfortable conversation. Still, it was necessary—especially now that she had clearly upset the Lord of the Dead.

The Fates, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold with a blend of calm and expectation. They already knew how this would end. Even so, neither Hades nor Eri could escape what destiny had in store for them at that moment.

“Young one, remember when it all began. Remember that day, the day your father went off to war,” said Lachesis, her voice rough.

As she spoke, she took the shared eye from her sisters. Her bony fingers lifted it, and the object began to glow with a bluish-white light, as if it held within it the reflection of a thousand intertwined fates.

Before all of them, the vision began to form. A glow enveloped the throne room, slowly revealing a scene from the past: the port of Thebes, nearly a decade ago.

The air smelled of salt. Seagulls soared above the warships as soldiers in golden armor loaded provisions and weapons. The waves gently lapped against the dock, unaware of the drama unfolding as people said farewell to their loved ones.

There, amidst the bustle of the port, a little girl with vibrant orange hair tightly held the hand of a beautiful woman. The girl kept her gaze fixed on the wooden planks of the dock, her brow furrowed, betraying the tension she felt.

“I don't understand why we had to wear our best tunics… We're not going to a wedding,” the girl muttered in frustration.

At that, a booming laugh echoed among the voices. It was Hercules, tall and broad, with a smile as big as his legend.

“Eri! Why the long face? I’m glad you dressed up. That’s how I’ll always remember you— looking lovely,” he said, with a joy that felt slightly forced.

“What a stupid idea.” Erianthe muttered back, crossing her arms.

“Erianthe! Watch your mouth…” Megara scolded her gently, squeezing her hand.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” chimed in Phil, who was standing beside them. “She’s got a point. Today’s not exactly a day for celebration…”

“I know…” Megara sighed, holding back emotion. “But we don’t know when we’ll all be together again. At the very least, I want this memory to be a beautiful one.”

It was then that the royal procession crossed the dock. King Leandro walked at the front, with Queen Dione by his side—regal and elegant. Behind them followed the young princes, Lysander and Patroclus. At the rear of the group was Licario, his usual stern expression softened only by a wicked smirk.

Everyone watched in silence. There was a solemn mood. At that moment, Hercules daughter instinctively kneeled before her true king—and the former queen.

Seeing them, Erianthe felt a wave of nostalgia pierce her chest. Her gaze lit up as it fell upon her father, Phil, the queen, and Lysander.

“Is that Dione?” asked Euryale, fascinated. “She’s so beautiful!”

“She really was.” Erianthe murmured, a trembling smile on her lips as she stood up. “Really stunning.”

The memories continued to flow. In the vision, King Leandro tightly embraced his family and then, with a firm gesture, removed his crown and placed it in the hands of his brother, Licario.

That gesture, that transfer of power.

It was the beginning of the end.

The scene shifted again, returning to where they stood. Hercules had already given Erianthe the medallion and was about to board the ship along with Phil and Pegasus.

“Wait, Daddy!” little Erianthe shouted, running toward him.

Hercules turned at the sound of her voice, and when he saw her approaching, he kneeled to her level.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

The girl pulled something from behind her back and offered it to him with both hands: a worn rag doll, made of white cloth with little red pigtails.

“I want you to take Mika with you,” she said firmly.

The hero’s face softened even more. He recognized the doll—it had been her favorite for as long as he could remember.

“Your favorite doll?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion. His eyes glistened, though he tried hard to keep his composure.

“Of course,” the girl said with conviction, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “So, you won’t forget us… Mika will protect you from everything.”

The silence that followed was almost reverent. Hercules hugged his daughter tightly, hiding his face in her tiny shoulder. It was clear he wanted to cry—but he forced himself to smile, for her.

From a corner, the Erianthe from the present couldn’t hold back her tears. Seeing that younger version of herself—so full of faith, so innocent…

Hades, by her side, remained silent. He wasn’t someone easily swayed by nostalgia or human emotions, but that scene—that small gesture—he couldn’t help but think:

“So, she was already like that as a child? She hasn’t changed at all,” the god mused, watching how that little girl… had grown into the young woman she was now. The woman who had him completely captivated.

“Thank you, Erianthe. I’ll take care of her,” said Hercules, as he gently took the doll in his hands. “I’ll give her back to you when we see each other again.”

“Okay, Daddy,” whispered the girl, her voice trembling as she clung to his neck with all her might, unwilling to let him go.

Hercules caressed her back softly, trying to memorize that small body in his arms. His eldest daughter—one of his greatest treasures. Hercules thanked the gods of Olympus every day for blessing him with such a wonderful girl.

“Erianthe, promise me something,” he said quietly, pulling back a little to look her in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll take care of everyone.”

The girl nodded without hesitation, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall.

“Yes, Daddy. I promise.”

The hero smiled with pride, though his eyes were already filled with tears. He couldn’t help but feel sad—he was leaving behind what he loved most in this world.

“Good, sweetheart. Then I’m leaving Thebes in good hands.”

He stood up, carefully tucked the doll into his armor, and after one last look at his wife, his young son, his parents, and his daughter, he walked toward the ship without looking back. And although his steps were firm, each one felt heavy—he hadn’t even left yet, and he already longed to return to them.

Erianthe watched him go, the ship growing smaller and smaller, the distance between her and her father growing wider. Then, as if driven by pure instinct, she ran. She didn’t care about her mother’s shouts calling her back. The girl ran and ran until she reached one of the coastal cliffs. There, she stood and looked out.

She saw hundreds of ships disappearing on the horizon, heading toward the unknown. And among them, she spotted it—the king’s ship. The one carrying her father.

“DADDY!” she screamed, raising her arms, waving desperately.

For a moment, the wind seemed to stop.

And then she saw him. Hercules, standing on the deck, turning around. He had heard her. He had seen her. From afar, the hero raised his arm and waved goodbye, with a smile, trying to hide the knot in his throat.

Father and daughter stared at each other until their figures blurred, until they were nothing more than two dots lost in the vastness of the ocean. And though Erianthe didn’t know it then, that would be the last memory she ever had of her father.

The vision faded, leaving the throne room wrapped in silence.

Erianthe stared at the floor, her cheeks soaked. The tears wouldn’t stop falling. She hugged herself tightly, feeling the echo of that childhood promise: “I’ll take care of everyone.” A promise made by a little girl who still didn’t know the price of loss, nor the weight of what was to come.

No one said a word.

Pain and Panic exchanged glances, not knowing what to do. They felt terrible about this bitter moment from their friend’s past. Euryale showed signs of having cried, moved by seeing how this girl—someone she had started to care about—had to say goodbye to her father, such a kind and gentle soul, just like she was. She couldn’t help but think of her sister, Medusa, and how much she missed her.

Hades couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had witnessed countless goodbyes. He had guided thousands of souls through the underworld. Not only that, but he hadn’t even cared when his nephew left for war. But seeing Erianthe cry? That he could not bear.

He stepped closer, saying nothing. It wasn’t the time for words. He simply stood beside her, offering silent comfort. She felt it. She didn’t look at him, but she took a step toward him, as someone seeking refuge without needing to ask for it.

“And now what?” the god asked. “Will you tell her what's coming?”

“Don’t be so impatient, Hades,” replied Atropos.

Then the eye began to glow again.

“Now, Erianthe, it’s time to remember why the flame within you was born,” said Clotho. “The fire with which Phoenixes are forged.”

And the next vision began to take shape before their eyes…

It was a spacious room, bathed in the light streaming through large windows. Tables and chairs were arranged in neat rows, but one table stood out among the rest: a larger one at the front of the room, adorned with dried flowers and rolled-up scrolls. Seated there, a brown-haired woman hummed a cheerful melody as she organized some materials.

“Miss Aria, good morning!” a vibrant little voice called from the doorway.

A girl with bright orange hair and sparkling eyes burst into the room with an energetic step, a bundle of parchments in her hands.

“Erianthe! Good morning, you're early,” the woman replied with a warm, welcoming smile.

“I wanted to show you my new drawings!” said the girl, approaching eagerly.

Aria took the papers in her hands and studied them carefully. Her eyes widened in admiration.

“By the gods, Eri! They're wonderful!” she exclaimed in genuine awe.

“Do you really think so, miss?” the girl asked, with a mix of shyness and hope. “Do you think if I keep this up, I could get into the art school in Athens?”

“Of course you can,” Aria affirmed, gently brushing back her hair. “You have so much talent, Eri. If you keep working like this, I have no doubt you'll pass the exams and shine at that school.”

The girl beamed from ear to ear, swelling with pride. Just then, other children began to fill the room with laughter and quick footsteps.

“Tadd!” Erianthe called, running toward her friend. “Your mom says I’m talented!”

“Of course you are,” the boy replied with a smile. “And if my mom says it, it must be true.”

“Your mom is the best teacher in the whole world!” Erianthe added, her eyes sparkling.

Aria watched them from her desk, a smile full of love on her face, though a faint glimmer of concern flickered in her eyes.

The Erianthe from the present watched the scene with a mixture of nostalgia and tenderness. However, she hadn't expected the Fates to show her this moment. Her chest tightened. She knew what came next. And she wasn’t ready to relive it.

Her body tensed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Hades, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her, noticed the change immediately. Without a word, he reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

The touch was enough.

Erianthe turned to him, her eyes shining with emotion, and before the god could say a word, she threw herself into his arms. She clung to him as if his embrace could shield her from what was to come.
Hades held her firmly, feeling the slight tremble that ran through her.

“I’m here. You won’t go through this alone again.”

The scene shifted abruptly. The cheerful atmosphere of the classroom dissolved, replaced by a grim and tension-filled setting.
It was the day the king decreed the closure of all schools, claiming they were a waste of time and corrupted children's education with dangerous ideas.

The teachers spoke out. They began to protest and demand explanations for such idiocy. Among them was Aria.
But King Licario had no intention of tolerating defiance. Tired of what he considered “insubordination,” he issued a cruel and inhumane order: the execution of the teachers.

And he didn’t stop there.

In an act of pure malice, he offered a horrifying reward to the students: if anyone killed a teacher, they would earn a place in the royal guard—a privilege reserved for only a few and accompanied by wealth and luxury.

Then, something happened that no one had expected: a student stood up to carry out an execution.

A girl with jet-black hair and an empty gaze stood up and made her way to the home greconomics classroom. There, she grabbed one of the sharp knives used for cooking.
Without saying a word, she returned to her class and walked straight to Miss Aria’s desk.

Everyone in the room fell silent.

“ Calista,” the teacher whispered in disbelief.

And in the blink of an eye, it was over.
The blade flashed for a second and took the teacher’s life. Her head rolled across the floor, leaving a trail of blood and horror behind.

Eight-year-old Erianthe screamed in terror. She was covered in blood, frozen in place, unable to comprehend how that girl—someone she had once shared laughs and games with—could do something so monstrous.

That day, one of the king’s most ruthless assassins was born: Hybris, who laughed like a lunatic as she watched the blood soak everything around her.

The older Erianthe couldn’t stop herself.
Tears streamed down her face. She raised a trembling hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a sob—but it was no use. Because it wasn’t just the blood she remembered.

It was Tadd’s face.

The look on her friend’s face as he saw his mother’s lifeless body as he witnessed that emotionless girl steal Aria’s life without so much as a blink.
The disbelief. The horror. The way he dropped to his knees, frozen in place, his lips trembling, unable to understand why such an atrocity had taken place.

From that day on, Tadd had to hide in the catacombs beneath Thebes. Because the king also hunted down those with any kind of disability.

The scene shifted again. This time, it showed a corner of the palace that seemed untouched by the chaos engulfing Thebes: an elegant hall where Erianthe was receiving lessons in protocol, history, and good manners from Queen Dione. The woman, always strict yet gentle, would correct her posture delicately and teach her to walk with grace and to speak with clarity, but when the lessons ended, the two of them would escape into the gardens, laughing.

There, among rosebushes and trees, Erianthe and Patroclus practiced archery under the watchful eye of the queen, while Lysander trained nearby with a sword. The contrast was clear: between etiquette lessons and shooting arrows, Erianthe always chose the latter.

Back in the present, Hades still held her in his arms. He watched the scene with curiosity, though now and then his gaze would drift back to Erianthe. A faintly amused smile curled his lips.

“So, you were taught manners and protocol too, brat?” he asked with a teasing glint in his voice.

Erianthe lowered her gaze, slightly embarrassed, though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Well, that was my parents’ doing,” she said, then added in a playful tone, “Although, if you expect me to bow or call you ‘Your Majesty,’ you can forget it.”

Hades let out a laugh at her remarks.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

But the scene shifted again, turning to another unpleasant memory. A year had passed since the incident with the teachers, and the city was sinking deeper into misery. The queen was growing increasingly discontent with Licario, who only told her to stay out of his affairs. Arguments between them became frequent—until one day, the king had enough of his sister-in-law’s defiance.

The queen fell ill. Toxicón had been poisoning her little by little. On her deathbed, Dione requested to speak with Meg in private. She wanted to ask her a favor: to take care of her children when she was gone.

“Dione, of course I’ll care for them, but please don’t give up,” Meg pleaded, her voice cracking as she clutched the queen’s hand in hers. “I’ll take you home. You’ll recover—I promise.”

The queen’s dimming eyes still held an incredible strength as she looked at Meg with warmth. A gentle smile crossed her lips, though the trembling of her chin betrayed the effort she was making to stay conscious.

“Thank you, Meg… But it’s too late for me,” she whispered. “What comforts me is knowing they’ll be with you… that they won’t be alone.”

Dione then turned her gaze to a corner of the room.

“Eri, come here, sweetheart… I want to tell you something,” the queen called softly, her voice weak but full of affection.

The little girl approached, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m proud of you,” Dione said as she took her hand with effort. “You have a gift, my dear… and a warrior’s heart.” With great difficulty, she continued,
“Never forget who you are or what you can become.”

Tears began to roll down Erianthe’s cheeks as the queen gently stroked her face one last time.

“Promise me you’ll fight for what’s right, even when you’re afraid. Protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“I promise…” Erianthe whispered, her voice broken.

Lysander and Patroclus burst into the room; their faces stricken at the sight of their mother in such a vulnerable state—she had always been so strong. Without a second thought, they rushed to the bed and clung to her desperately, as if their embrace alone could stave off the inevitable.

That day, Queen Dione died.

Grief quickly turned to rage. Amid mourning, the young princes raised their voices. They publicly accused King Licario of poisoning her—of silencing her for standing against his tyranny.

The king responded without delay. Cold and calculated, he pointed at them in front of everyone, his voice ringing with feigned outrage.

“Traitors!” Licario shouted. “They’ve attempted to usurp the throne while their mother lay dying! Guards, arrest them!”

The order fell like a death sentence upon the princes.

But Meg had foreseen this. With the reflexes only a mother could possess, she seized the boys’ hands and pulled them to safety. Erianthe, without hesitation, ran alongside them. Together, mother and daughter led the princes through a secret passage hidden in the walls of the royal wing—a hidden corridor, built years ago, one Licario had no knowledge of.

“That’s how the queen died?” Euryale asked, her eyes still fixed on the image they had just witnessed.

“Unfortunately, yes…” Erianthe replied, her voice laced with pain and melancholy. “It was so unfair.”

The scene shifted again. This time, it showed the peaceful villa of Hercules, where the young princes lived hidden from their uncle. Though they were safe, it was a fragile security—a tense calm that tasted of exile.

In one of the images, Lysander, Patroclus, and Erianthe were sitting at the edge of a cliff, their eyes fixed on the sea. They searched the horizon, hoping for a miracle that would bring their parents back.

Suddenly, Lysander stood up, a spark of determination shining in his eyes.

“I want to be a hero!” he declared. “I wish to help people… I wish to save them.”

“What are you saying, brother?” Patroclus asked, confused.

“Pat, we must think about how to defeat our uncle and take back what’s rightfully ours. Thebes needs justice,” he answered firmly.

Erianthe looked at them. She felt the same fire burning inside her. She couldn’t be left behind.

“I’m in, too. You’re going to need someone who knows how to handle a bow,” she said, crossing her arms with a half-smile.

Lysander turned to her and gave her that unique smile—bright and warm, the kind that made him seem invincible. A smile Erianthe would never forget.

The scene changed again. Now it was just Lysander and Erianthe under a starry sky, sitting together on the hillside. He held a small bouquet of wildflowers—Erianthe’s favorites.

“You’re someone special to me, Eri,” Lysander murmured, his gaze fixed on her.

Erianthe blushed to the tips of her ears, unable to speak. But her heart was pounding wildly.

Hades watched the scene in complete silence, his expression difficult to read. Yet something stirred within him. An uncomfortable pang. Jealousy? No. It couldn’t be that. He wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

And yet, there it was.

Seeing Erianthe smile at Lysander, seeing the way she looked at him with that light in her eyes, it was unbearably uncomfortable. He clenched his jaw tightly, irritated with himself. It was absurd. He couldn’t let it affect him. Not when that boy was no longer alive.

Still, it was infuriating.

Lysander had been part of Erianthe’s life. They had shared laughter and many moments together. And what bothered him most wasn’t the memory itself—it was the fact that this boy, that’s what he was, a boy, had the courage to do what he still hadn’t.

He’d had the guts to tell Erianthe how he felt.

The scene changed once more. This time, the image showed the villa’s kitchen—chaotic yet full of warmth. Sunlight streamed through the windows, caressing the wooden shelves.

In the center, Alcmena, Erianthe’s grandmother, her white hair tied in a messy bun, patiently explained how to mix the ingredients to knead pita bread. Her hands were dusted with flour, but her smile was as sweet as the aroma filling the kitchen.

“Like this, firm but gentle, Eri. Kneading takes stubbornness,” she said with a laugh.

Meg was there too, fixing her hair, with a smudge of flour on her cheek. The three of them cooked as they talked, hands and clothes increasingly messy.

The kitchen was a disaster, yet it brimmed with life—with love. It was home.

Meanwhile, through an open window, Amphitryon could be seen in the meadow with the princes, tending to the livestock, laughing as Patroclus clumsily tried to herd the goats.

It was a fleeting moment of happiness. A sliver of peace was stolen from the chaos reigning in Thebes, as if time had paused before the storm. One of the last memories… just before the darkness swallowed everything.

Erianthe tensed as the scene shifted. The night she lost her home, part of her family, and Lysander. Hades held her close.

“You don’t have to watch this, Eri,” he murmured gently, in that low voice he reserved only for her.

“No,” the daughter of Hercules whispered in return, eyes locked on the vision unfolding before them. “I have to.”

In the image, a small convoy descended from the hill toward the villa. They bore the banners of Thebes, but she knew they didn’t come in peace. They rode on horseback, firelight dancing across their black armor, blending into the night.

At the front of the group, one figure stood out, a manic grin on his face. Though hooded, the gleam in his wild, hungry eyes was unmistakable—like a starving wolf.

“Pyros…” Erianthe whispered. The man who destroyed her world.

Hades committed the man’s face to memory. If he ever crossed his path, he would make him pay for everything he had made Erianthe endure.

He wouldn’t kill him. That would be too merciful.

That would be a kindness Pyros didn’t deserve. Hades would make him suffer for every tear Erianthe had ever shed. He would torture him slowly and imprison him in Tartarus for all eternity.

Not just him—all of them. Each one of those vicious bastards. Everyone who had contributed to Erianthe’s suffering, especially the king.

He’d torture him until he begged for mercy.

He would do it for her.

Hades turned his face to look at her, seeing the anguish in her eyes. Just hours ago, they had been wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing a moment of peace that had felt eternal. The warmth of her body, their breaths mixing. So close to a kiss. So close to crossing that invisible line that kept them apart.

Hades clenched his teeth. The fire within him didn’t burn with passion now—but with fury. How he hated that damn king of Thebes. At that moment, the god of the dead swore that one day he would make that bastard pay. He would make him beg for his soul.

The witnesses watched in horror as the vision continued. There was Pyros, laughing like a lunatic as he held a burning torch. His eyes gleamed with maniacal light while he doused the villa’s outer walls with oil. The fire began to consume everything.

Amphitryon was the first to sense something was wrong. Not because of the smoke or flames—but because of the animals. Their desperate cries shattered the night’s stillness.

“Something’s not right,” he murmured, rising with difficulty.

Then the heat hit him. Smoke seeped through the cracks of the door, and a violent crackling sound made him stagger back. In that instant, flames burst near his chamber.

“ALCMENA!” he yelled, shaking his wife. “WAKE UP! FIRE!”

The old couple’s desperate screams shattered the calm like thunder.

“FIRE! EVERYONE WAKE UP! FIRE!” Alcmena shouted, pounding on the walls to alert the rest.

In the east wing of the house, Meg woke with a start, coughing from the smoke creeping under the door. Her eyes widened as she saw the room bathed in a reddish glow.

“Zenos!” was her first thought, her heart tightening as she bolted out of the room.

She ran through the hallway, between shouts and ash. The nearest room belonged to the youngest of the family, and when she opened the door, her soul froze. Smoke already filled the space, and in the middle of it, Zenos sobbed, hiding beneath the bed.

“Mama! Mama!” he cried, his voice cracked with fear.

Meg dropped to the floor, ignoring the burning heat of the wood beneath her knees. She reached out, grabbed him, and pulled him tightly into her arms.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you,” she whispered as she stood and ran, carrying him in her arms, searching for an escape through the shadows and fire.

The flames continued their advance, devouring wood, tapestries, vases, amphorae—but most of all, memories. The heat was unbearable, the smoke suffocating. But Meg didn’t stop. With trembling Zenos clutched to her chest, she raced down the corridor with one goal in mind: save her family.

She had just exited the room when a figure crossed her path—it was Patroclus. The young prince, his face streaked with ash and sweat, still held a look of determination. He gripped a sword he could barely lift. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but surrender was not in his nature.

“Patroclus!” Meg coughed— “We must find Erianthe! Quickly!”

The boy nodded but stopped her with a hand.

“Lysander’s already gone for her!” Patroclus replied, his voice raspy from the smoke. “He also went to find Alcmena and Amphitryon. He said he’s not leaving anyone behind.”

Meg’s heart clenched sharply. Lysander… that boy had the soul of a leader, like his father, the king. But he was still just a kid. A brave one, yes, but like everyone else, he was in danger—and still, he was risking his life to save them.

“We’ll leave through the back door,” Patroclus muttered, his red eyes and clenched jaw showing resolve. He knew that if he didn’t get Meg and Zenos out alive, Erianthe would never forgive him. “Come on, hurry.”

Meg opened her mouth to protest. She couldn’t leave. She would rather not abandon that house without knowing whether the rest of her family was safe. But then she looked down at Zenos—still trembling and crying in her arms—and at Patroclus, ready to protect them at all costs.

She clenched her teeth and nodded with resignation. She ran after the prince, holding her son close to her chest. Smoke engulfed them; the heat scorched their skin—but they didn’t stop.

And as they crossed the threshold to the outside, Meg cast one last look at the sky, darkened by smoke.

“Please, gods of Olympus, protect them. Protect them all.”

Meanwhile, inside the villa, Erianthe woke with a start.

It took her a few seconds to understand what was happening. First came the heat, then the smell of smoke, and finally, the screams. Everything was confusing, but she soon realized there was a fire.

“What?” she murmured, sitting up in bed with difficulty.

The air was heavy. She coughed violently, covering her mouth with her forearm. The room was filled with a dense grey haze. She could barely see anything.

Fire.

The fire was inside the house.

She jumped out of bed barefoot, stumbling from the dizziness and lack of oxygen. Panic was creeping in—if the villa was burning, that meant everyone was in danger. She knew she didn’t have much time to get out.

She heard her grandparents screaming.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Erianthe shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking from smoke and fear.

The smoke was thick. She could barely see more than a few steps ahead, but she followed the screaming. Erianthe tripped as she moved forward but didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Not while her family was still inside.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the smoke. Someone crossed her path.

“Lysander!” she exclaimed, relieved.

“Eri!” the boy answered, gasping for breath. His face was covered in ash, and his tunic clung to his body from sweat, but he still gripped his sword firmly. “We have to get out of here! Let’s find your grandparents. Patroclus went for your mother and Zenos; they’re probably already outside.”

Erianthe nodded, about to follow him, until she remembered.

“Wait!” she gasped, stopping in her tracks. “My father’s medallion! I left it in my room!”

“Eri, no!” Lysander tried to stop her, but it was too late.

She turned on her heel and vanished into the smoke without looking back.

Flames seeped from everywhere. The wood crackled, the heat was unbearable, and breathing had become hell. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t leave behind the only thing she had left of her father.

When she reached the room, flames were already entering through the broken window. The smoke blinded her, but she knew exactly where to go. She lunged toward the nightstand, opened the drawer with trembling hands, and there it was.

The medallion.

Hercules’ medallion.

She clutched it tightly to her chest, as if holding it could bring her father back. She coughed violently, tears mixing with sweat—but when she turned to leave, the flames were partially blocking her path.

Erianthe jumped back, gasping. Her heart pounded in her ears. Fear overtook her, paralyzing her for a moment. The fire kept advancing.

“I’m going to die here… over a damn medallion,” she thought, eyes stinging with smoke.

“Erianthe! Take this and put it over yourself!” a voice yelled through the flames. It was Lysander who threw her a thick, heavy tapestry. She caught it, her reflexes dulled by the heat, and without thinking, she wrapped herself in it.

“Jump to me! Hurry!” Lysander ordered; arms outstretched.

Summoning all the courage she had, she leapt toward the exit, jumping over the fire. Lysander caught her in midair, and the moment he felt her in his arms, he held her tight. He said nothing—he didn’t need to. Both were shaking, drenched in sweat, but alive.

“Let’s go! We have to get out of here,” Lysander said, grabbing her hand.

They ran through the hallway toward Eri’s grandparents’ room, but when they got there, they both froze in horror.

The door was broken… and blocked. Two massive beams had fallen, sealing the entrance.

Through the flames, they could just make out Alcmena and Amphitryon holding each other, enduring the smoke, shouting with all their strength. But they weren’t calling for help.

They were shouting for their family to run.

To live.

The Erianthe from the present broke down in tears. She knew exactly what was coming. Hades held her tightly as he watched the scene unfold. He said nothing. There was no need for words.

In the vision, Erianthe and Lysander struggled desperately to move the heavy beams blocking the entrance. The flames crept closer, the heat was unbearable, and the smoke burned their eyes and throats—but neither of them would give up.

“Come on, Lysander, push! We have to get them out!” Erianthe shouted, gasping, her hands full of splinters.

“I’m trying!” he growled, muscles straining.

Every second counted. The ceiling creaked threateningly, ready to collapse, and the flames inched closer. Time was running out.

Then, a hand gently touched Erianthe’s cheek. She froze instantly. She would recognize that touch anywhere.

It was her grandmother.

Alcmena’s warm, trembling hand reached through a gap in the broken door.

“Sweetheart, go,” she whispered weakly, her voice broken from the smoke and yelling. “Your grandfather and I have lived long enough. Don’t stay behind. You have to live.”

Erianthe felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Through the door, she saw her grandmother smiling at her with warmth. Her grandfather, Amphitryon, lay unconscious on the floor, likely overcome by the smoke.

“No, no, Grandma, please! We can get you out! We can do it!” Erianthe sobbed, tears mixing with sweat and soot.

“Yes, you can… live, Eri. Do it for us,” Alcmena said calmly. Then, turning to Lysander with determination, she met his eyes.

“Take her. Save her,” she pleaded silently.

Lysander swallowed hard and clenched his fists. He knew what he had to do—even if it broke him. He gave one last look to the woman who had caressed him like a grandson and nodded.

“I will,” he whispered.

Before Erianthe could resist, Lysander grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“No! Let me go! We have to save them!” she screamed through tears, hitting him weakly.

“I’m sorry, Eri! I can’t lose you too!” Lysander replied, his voice cracking.

And they ran. They ran down the flaming hallway, while behind them the wood groaned and the room holding Alcmena and Amphitryon was devoured by fire.

They reached the back door of the villa and burst through it. A fleeting sense of relief washed over them as they left behind the smoke and flames—but it didn’t last long. As soon as they stepped onto the path that led down to the beach, their hope crumbled.

A group of royal guards blocked their path.

Lysander came to a sudden halt, eyes wide. He hadn’t expected that. Could it have been a trap? He didn’t have time to find out. He didn’t see his brother, which meant he’d likely escaped with Meg and Zenos—but they still had to get away.

“Damn it!” he muttered under his breath, turning to Erianthe, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand tightly.

“Come on, this way!” he shouted, pulling her toward the woods, where the thick foliage and darkness could provide cover.

They ran without looking back, following the path that would lead them into the forest. Erianthe kept tripping over the tapestry, crying, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Her grandmother’s words still echoed in her mind.

She would live.

Lysander moved forward with purpose, shielding her as best he could, until suddenly two shadows blocked their way. Guards.

Erianthe let out a strangled cry, but before she could react, Lysander unsheathed his sword in a swift motion. Within seconds, he disarmed the first guard with a sharp feint and blocked the second’s strike with surprising strength for someone his age.

His movements were precise—he hadn’t trained in vain. He wasn’t just a boy improvising; he was a crown prince with years of instruction behind him. And that night, he would fight for her. To protect her.

The second guard collapsed with a groan of pain. Lysander turned to Erianthe, panting.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded; eyes full of tears.

“Thank you…”

Lysander gave her a tired but sincere smile.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promised.”

Without wasting another second, Lysander took her hand again, and they continued their escape, nearing the forest’s edge, their hearts pounding and the fire still casting light behind them.

What they didn’t know was that the real danger was still lurking.

Amid the shadows cast by the trees and the red glow of the burning villa, a figure advanced with steady steps and a crazed gaze. Pyros. His eyes gleamed with madness, and his maniacal grin grew with every step he took. He moved like a living flame, consuming everything in his path.

“At last!” he rasped when he saw them. “I’ve got you, little girl!”

Before they could react, Pyros lunged at them. His burning hands clamped around Erianthe’s arm, dragging her toward him with brutal force. She screamed, struggling with everything she had, fear tearing through her throat.

And then he drew his sword.

“I’m going to end you right now!”

The blade came down like lightning, aimed straight at Erianthe.

But it never reached her.

With the reflexes of a born warrior, Lysander threw himself between them, sword raised at the last moment. The clash of metal rang out on the path, and the force of the blow made him stumble, but he didn’t fall.

“I won’t let you touch her!” the prince roared, his eyes burning with resolve.

Erianthe fell to the ground, freed by the struggle, and crawled backward, watching the scene with her heart in her throat.

Pyros tilted his head, his eyes glinting with insanity.

“So, the little prince wants to play hero?”

Lysander clenched his jaw. This wasn’t a game. Not this time. He gripped his sword with both hands and braced himself for the fight.

“Run, Erianthe!” he shouted without looking back. “Run and don’t look back!”

“No! I’m not leaving you!” she cried, eyes full of tears, trembling but standing firm.

Lysander turned his head just long enough to look at her with a mix of tenderness and affection.

“Eri, promise me. Promise me you’ll live!”

His words pierced her like a spear. Erianthe hesitated; something within her was breaking, but finally nodded with clenched lips. She got up, wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and with one last look at the boy who had meant everything to her, she turned and ran.

She ran like never before, her lungs burning and her heart ready to burst. The forest’s thick darkness swallowed her, while the sounds of the fight faded behind her.

Lysander focused all his attention back on Pyros. Their swords clashed violently. The young prince, trained from childhood, held the advantage. His movements were fast and calculated. He blocked, dodged, and counterattacked. And for a moment, it looked like he could win.

Pyros’s grin twisted into a snarl. He didn’t like losing.

“You damned brat!” he bellowed, swinging a desperate strike that Lysander easily deflected.

“I warned you,” the prince growled. “You’ll never hurt anyone again.”

But then something changed.

The air grew heavier. A dark mist slithered across the ground, like creeping vines. Lysander frowned as a chill ran down his spine. Something was grabbing at his shadow—something he couldn’t quite see.

“What the hell!” he whispered, as he felt his feet rooted to the ground.

A dense shadow emerged from the earth, latching onto his legs and climbing his torso like it had a will of its own. He tried to move—but it was useless.

He was paralyzed.

In the present, the older Erianthe turned pale as she watched the scene, bringing a hand to her lips in disbelief.

“Catharsis,” she murmured in a broken voice. “He was there too.”

The puppeteer. The most feared. The hidden leader of the king’s group of assassins. She had never known that he had also been there that night—and that he had something to do with the prince’s death.

The vision continued. In it, Lysander struggled desperately, his muscles trembling with futile effort.

“What kind of sorcery is this?!” he roared in fury, his sword gleaming—but useless in his hands.

In front of him, Pyros just smiled. A twisted, enraged, maniacal smile.

“I’m not alone, little prince,” he said in a cruel, raspy voice. “There are forces neither you… nor your sweet Erianthe… will ever comprehend.”

And raising his sword, he stepped forward with grim determination.

Lysander, powerless, raised his eyes toward the forest. He knew she was there, running, escaping—alive. The pain in his chest wasn’t from the spell; it was because he hadn’t been able to say goodbye the way she deserved.

With the blade about to strike, he uttered his last will with a voice clear, firm, and filled with love:

“Erianthe, my Eri… live! Be happy! Promise me you'll always share that smile of yours with the world—that smile that lights up everything.”

The blade came down.

But before the impact, a whisper escaped his lips, like a final breath:

“I love you, Erianthe.”

For a moment, the throne room was plunged into absolute silence. Everyone had their eyes fixed on the daughter of Hercules, who, her face bathed in tears, slowly stepped away from Hades’ protective embrace.

She walked toward the projection of the vision, toward that last frozen time when Lysander was still smiling, still alive. She extended her hand with trembling gentleness, as if by simply brushing the air, she could caress the cheek of the boy who had so often made her smile.

“Thank you, Lysander…” she whispered, her voice breaking with pain and gratitude.

And then the image of the prince vanished.

A new silence enveloped the room—heavier, more loaded. No one dared to speak. Not even breath. Until a figure broke the stillness.

Euryale was the first to react. With tear-filled eyes and a heart aching, she rushed toward Erianthe and hugged her tightly, wrapping her arms around her as if trying to protect her from the whole world. A few seconds later, Pain and Panic joined in, clinging tenderly to the girl’s legs.

All three were shaken. They couldn’t believe that someone so kind, so cheerful, and so full of light had gone through such a cruel hell.

From where he stood, Hades watched them in silence. A pang stirred in his chest. A part of him felt irritated—yes—because he wanted to be the one to hold her, to comfort her, not them. But he held himself back.

Yet beyond what he wanted, he couldn’t deny he admired that girl. That stubborn little brat who, despite losing so much, still stood tall, lighting every corner with her beautiful smile. It was at that moment that Hades felt lucky to have met Erianthe.

But his gaze hardened as he turned toward the Fates. He had had enough. They had dug too deep into her past.

“Enough,” he said, his deep voice echoing throughout the hall. “That’s enough.”

“Not so fast, Lord of the Dead,” Clotho interjected again, her voice grave.

“We have not yet reached the moment when the Phoenix rose,” added Lachesis, her intense gaze fixed on Erianthe.

A fresh wave of silence spread through the hall.

Erianthe slowly lowered her gaze to the floor. Her fingers trembled slightly at the memory of what was about to come. It wasn’t shame she felt. Nor fear. It was the weight of the inevitable.

The vision didn’t stop. The scene continued from the night of the fire, but this time it showed the forest, shrouded in dense, damp shadows, tinged with the lingering scent of smoke in the air. Erianthe was running, gasping, her eyes full of tears, and her heart pounding in her chest. She was fleeing—not just from Pyros, not only from the guards—but from strange shadows that moved along the ground. And now, the Erianthe from the present time knew they were the work of Catharsis.

The spectators could see the fear etched into the face of a ten-year-old girl. Alone, injured, and covered in dirt and ash, she crawled through roots, underbrush, and trees, trying to silence her breath.

And then fate gave her a moment’s grace.

A man appeared through the thicket. The father of Ilena and Egan, the captain of the royal guard. His face showed the same desperation as hers but also regret. Erianthe had never blamed him for what happened that night—he was an honorable man. But she knew perfectly well that if he disobeyed orders, his family would pay the price.

He looked at her, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

“Run,” he told her in a firm voice. “Run toward the river. The guards will lose your trail there.”

Erianthe hesitated for a second, but something in the man’s eyes gave her strength. She nodded with a trembling gesture and took off running, tearing through the underbrush until she reached the riverbank.

For a moment, she felt lost—but some nymphs guided her to a hiding place for the night. Trembling alone, wrapped in the thick tapestry, and clutching her father’s medallion to her chest, her heart was broken for all she had lost.

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight barely touched the treetops, Erianthe emerged from her hiding place. The sky appeared overcast—but not from clouds. It was the thick, heavy smoke still rising from the ruins of the villa. The smell of ash and charred wood lingered in the air. She took a deep breath, feeling the pain settle in her chest like a stone.

Without a word, she began to follow the river’s course. She knew it led to the sea, and deep in her heart, she hoped her mother, Zenos, and Patroclus—who had fled via the beach path—would be there at the end. It was her only hope.

Everyone watched in silence as little Erianthe walked for days, crossing the forest with her eyes fixed on the horizon. The nymphs accompanied her from a distance, appearing at key moments to offer her sweet water, fruits, and roots. They did so silently, moved by compassion for the girl.

Every step was agony. Her feet were covered in wounds, blisters, and dried blood. But she never stopped. She never cried. She had a goal—to find the family she had left.

And finally, after what felt like an eternal week, she found them.

The scene shifted instantly. On the beach were Meg, Zenos, and Patroclus, covered in dust and ash—but alive.

The girl ran toward them, and her mother’s cry rang out loud and clear.

“ERIAN—!”

She didn’t get to finish. Erianthe threw herself into her arms and, for the first time since that night, broke down in sobs. The most heartbreaking anyone in the hall had ever heard. Meg embraced her desperately, while Zenos clung tightly to his sister. Patroclus joined the hug, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back tears.

But the joy of reunion didn’t last long.

“Grandma… Grandpa… Lysander…” Erianthe whispered through sobs, her voice broken. “They… they didn’t make it.”

Silence fell on the scene like a bucket of cold water. Meg froze. Her eyes filled with tears, and a choked scream escaped her throat. Patroclus turned pale, taking a step back, and Zenos burst into tears.

After that tearful and bitter reunion, the scene shifted once more.

The setting was now very different from before. A modest wooden cabin, hidden deep in the forest, stood alone in silence. There, the survivors of the tragedy had begun a new life.

The observers in the hall watched as Erianthe, Meg, Zenos, and Patroclus settled within those humble walls, far from the king and his henchmen. However, peace did not last. Soon after, Patroclus left for Thebes, searching for work at the quarry.

Then came the moment when Meg, exhausted from long days of labor in the fields, fell ill. The illness consumed her slowly, weakening her day by day. It was then that Erianthe decided that would mark a turning point in her life.

She had to help. She had to act.

Despite her fear, she traveled alone to Thebes. No one recognized her. She was no longer the daughter of Hercules. Just another girl desperate to find work to survive.

Everyone watched as Erianthe cut her hair in front of the mirror of an abandoned tavern. Her long orange mane was reduced to a practical cut, just above her shoulders. Hades was surprised to see her with that style—it didn’t look bad at all, though he preferred her hair long.

The scene shifted to the moment she was branded with the number assigned to her at the quarry. A simple mark, nothing more than a number. A person without identity. A slave.

Days later, Patroclus gave her a uniform. It was stained and somewhat worn with time, but it held immense value. It had once belonged to Hercules.

Erianthe received it with trembling hands, and for a moment, the small light in her eyes seemed to flicker alive again. Just for a moment.

Weeks passed. Then months. The young woman worked tirelessly. Her hands covered in calluses, her back bent from labor. But her gaze… her gaze had gone empty. It had lost its shine, as if part of her had faded away in that quarry.

Until, one day, it happened. The moment Erianthe rose—and the Phoenix appeared.

It was a dark day; the sky blanketed in heavy clouds that foretold a storm. In the quarry, rumors spread like dust on the wind: King Licario had ordered the construction of a new statue in his honor, accompanied by a grand public square. A monument to ego. But to build it, space was needed. Which meant something had to go.

No one could have imagined what would be sacrificed.

The orphanage.

Erianthe overheard it from one of the guards, who spoke casually about how a member of the king’s personal guard would personally “cleanse” the building. That word chilled her blood.

She ran to Patroclus, who had just finished his shift, and without hesitation, the two of them bolted into the streets, weaving desperately through the maze of Thebes. But when they arrived, it was already too late.

The vision showed the assassin stepping out of the building.

Toxicón.

He walked with the calm of someone who had no soul. His steps were slow, a satisfied smile on his face, while an empty vial spun between his fingers. He looked like Death itself.

Erianthe froze. The air burned in her lungs. Patroclus tried to stop her, but it was too late—she ran inside, ignoring the metallic odor that had already begun to fill the air.

And then she saw it.

The vision was disturbing. Bodies. Small bodies. Children sprawled across beds, on the floor, their skin pale and eyes shut. All… dead. Even the adults who cared for them lay motionless, like wax figures.

They had been poisoned.

“Cyanide…” Euryale whispered from the present, horrified. She covered her mouth as the horror of the act sank in.

The Erianthe in the vision walked to a small cradle. There, among the sheets and a thick blanket, lay a baby. Motionless.

The girl kneeled, her hands trembling. She touched the blanket with her fingertips, as if hoping to still find a trace of warmth. But there was none.

Erianthe screamed.

A scream that tore through the souls of everyone present in the throne room. A cry filled with rage, pain, and despair. Hades clenched his fists, his flames flickering violently at the sight of Erianthe’s anguish. Euryale wept silently, while Pain and Panic stared wide-eyed. They had never imagined a mortal could be so cruel.

Erianthe was breathing heavily, her body tense, her gaze fixed on the image of that cradle. No one spoke. They couldn’t. That day, something inside Erianthe died… and something else, something darker, stronger… was born.

The next day, Erianthe knew that Licario would make his grand announcement in the central square of Thebes. His glorious project. His damned statue. But the daughter of Hercules wasn’t going to allow it. Not after what she had seen. Not after what she had felt.

The rage burned inside her like an uncontrollable fire. A fire that demanded blood. With her heart pounding, she ran through the cobbled streets of Thebes. The city bustled with activity, unaware of the storm brewing within a girl shattered by everything she had lived through, by everything she had witnessed. She didn’t have a clear plan. She only knew one thing: that man had to pay.

For Aria. For Dione. For Lysander. For Alcmena. For Amphitryon. For all the children from the orphanage.

For all the suffering in the city of Thebes.

As she ran, she gathered what she needed: a long hooded red cloak; sturdy boots; leather gloves; and a mask. A theatrical one, with a neutral expression. Blank. Inhuman.

And lastly, the most important thing.

A bow.

And arrows.

A weapon she knew like an extension of her body. She had abandoned it for a time, but her hands hadn’t forgotten how to draw the string. How to aim. How to kill.

She climbed.

Her feet pushed hard against the walls. She climbed with wild agility, as if the rooftops were her true home. Her heart pounded in her chest with every leap, every push over the slippery tiles.

She had loved running across the rooftops as a child.

That day, she did it to kill a king.

And there he was.

Licario.

Standing on his wooden platform, surrounded by guards, flaunting power and glory as if he deserved them. His clothes sparkled with all the gold he wore, and his voice boomed with arrogance as he spoke of statues, new public squares, and “the glorious future of Thebes.”

He didn’t deserve any of it.

Erianthe took a deep breath. Her bow was ready, the string taut, and the arrow lined up with her throat. One shot. That was all it would take. If she did it right, there would be no screams, no escape. A swift death—even if he didn’t deserve one. Vengeance was a breath away.

Until a voice stopped her.

It couldn’t be real.

It was her father’s voice. Calm, warm, like a breeze brushing against her wounded soul.

“Erianthe, don’t do it. You’re not a murderer,” her father’s voice said. “A hero acts from the heart, not from hatred. Fight—but for justice.”

Her hand trembled slightly. Her father was right, but he was also wrong. Erianthe would never be a hero. Not like him.

And yet, she couldn’t kill Licario like this. Not this way. But she knew what she had to do.

She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes for just a second.

And fired.

The arrow flew like lightning and whistled through the air, cutting through the moment.

It struck just beside Licario’s head. Mere inches from his ear. The impact made everyone shout. The guards moved. Some citizens ducked. Others looked up.

And then they saw her.

There, high on the rooftops, a lone figure in a red cloak fluttering in the wind. Her silhouette looked like it had wings. As if it were on fire.

Like a phoenix.

“Licario!” the firm voice cried out, echoing through the square— “You will pay for everything you’ve done. I declare war on you. You don’t deserve to be king of Thebes.”

The crowd fell silent… until the first cheer rang out. Then another. And another. Until the whole square roared, shouting a name no one knew, but everyone claimed as their own.

PHOENIX!
PHOENIX!
PHOENIX!

Even Euryale, thrilled to the core, joined in the cheers. Pain and Panic weren’t far behind, shouting with enthusiasm, as if they had just witnessed the birth of a legend.
“Phoenix! Phoenix! Phoenix!” they repeated, their eyes sparkling with admiration.

Erianthe smiled. But it wasn’t just any smile. Hades saw it and fell silent. It was different.

It wasn’t the smile he was used to from Eri—it was something else.
In her eyes there was a spark that radiated charisma, determination, and pride.
The kind of look only true leaders possess.

And thus, like in every legend… That was how it all began.

The scene shifted once more.

Now it showed an old hideout beneath the depths of Thebes. There they were: Erianthe, Patroclus, Ilena, Tadd, and Egan, surrounded by notes, maps, and makeshift weapons. Determined faces, ready to fight and stand their ground.
The Children of the Revolution had been born.

One by one, they swore loyalty to the cause. Not just to avenge the past, but to build a future.
And they began to act.

Sabotaging the king’s constructions. Interrupting public executions. Rescuing slaves. Silent attacks on royal supply warehouses. And the bravest of all: the creation of a secret hospital for the wounded—those whom Licario would have let die without blinking.

The king was furious.

Every attempt to wipe them out ended in failure. The Children of the Revolution were like smoke: untouchable. And Phoenix… The Phoenix was their symbol, their spark, their flame.

Silence still reigned in the throne room as the final images of Erianthe’s past faded.
Everyone present kept their eyes fixed on the three hooded figures who, until that moment, had remained motionless like statues.

It was Clotho who stepped forward, her voice rough but firm:
“This is how it all began, dear child.”

Lachesis continued, her tone tinged with melancholy:
“But like every story, everything has a beginning… and an ending as well.”

Then Atropos, the one who cuts the thread, moved forward with steady steps and raised the eye to reveal one final vision. In the air, images began to form: a battle… no, a war.

“Daughter of Hercules,” she said as the images sharpened.
“We have come to warn you.”

Erianthe stepped forward, her heart pounding in her ears.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“The battle that will be fought in Thebes… in a few months,” replied Lachesis.

Erianthe’s eyes widened in horror. The visions were terrifying: all of them fighting, wounded, and covered in blood.

And then the Fates began to chant their prophecy in unison.

Those who swore by justice's flame

Shall rise once more to break their chains.

But heed to this truth; let love prevail,

Or war shall end with bitter wail.

For only a great sacrifice of love, in its purest form,

Can calm the tide and still the storm.

Yet should hatred blind and vengeance lead,

Then doom shall sprout from every seed.

And not just Thebes shall meet the night—

All Greece shall fall, snuffed of its light.

A chilling silence took hold of the hall. Erianthe felt her chest tighten.

“W-What…? What do you mean with Greece will fall…?” she asked, pale as marble.

Clotho looked at her before delivering the final sentence:
“You will die. All of you. If you fail, there will be no one left. Nothing will remain.”

And with that verdict, the three sisters vanished like smoke, leaving behind the echo of their prophecy, leaving everyone stunned, and the throne room once again in utter silence.