The pain had finally become too much.
Helios' body had shut down after the second branding. His breathing was shallow, head slumped forward in the manacles that held him fast to the stone wall. he last thing he remembered was fire—Hades' white-hot finger plunging into his shoulder, laughter ringing in his ears. The room still reeked of burning flesh, but his mind had slipped away—into the only refuge it had left.
Then...
Warmth.
A world that no longer existed.
He stood at the edge of a rolling meadow in Nightfall, his home world, long before it had been devoured. The air was crisp and cool. The sky above was a painted dome of violet clouds and fading sunlight. Helios stood barefoot in a field of pale blue flowers, their petals glowing faintly with the fading light of dusk. Flowers swayed beneath his feet, as the breeze carried the sound of laughter—familiar, precious.
"Helios!" a woman's voice called warmly.
He turned, and his heart clenched.
His mother stood there. Not some dream-fog image, but real—so vivid it hurt to look at her. She wore her favorite gray cloak with the light blue lining, the one that always smelled like lavender and ink. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as his own, full of warmth. Her arms were spread, beckoning him closer.
Beside her stood a tall man with a quiet strength. His father. The once-proud scholar with calloused hands and a sharp wit, who had taught him how to fight in one hand and a love of books in the other.
"You're finally awake, lazybones," his father teased, walking over and rustling his son's hair.
Helios choked on the surge of emotion and threw his arms around them both.
They laughed and embraced him back.
There was no blood here. No war. No ruined cities. Just the home he had long since buried under endless battle and darkness.
They sat together beneath a willow tree, eating dried fruit and fresh bread having a pinic. They spoke of meaningless things—the park, the stars, how Helios always slept through his morning lessons. His mother scolded him gently, his father chuckled, and for a moment... he wasn't a warrior, or a Keyblade wielder, or a dark being in the making.
He was just a son.
A boy with two loving parents.
'Please don't end,' he begged the dream silently.
Later, they sat underneath the twilight sky, and his mother hummed a tune from his childhood. The city lights reflected in her eyes as she leaned her head on his father's shoulder. Helios sat across from them, hugging his knees.
"Do you remember your promise, Helios?" his father asked suddenly.
Helios blinked. "Which one?"
"To become a greater man than your dad."
He nodded slowly. "I do."
His mother smiled, and for the briefest moment her face flickered.
A subtle glitch. Like a broken memory.
The sounds of cars could be heard in the distance.
And the dream cracked.
Just slightly.
From the darkness beyond the willow tree, a figure stepped forward.
Kurai.
But not as she was. Her hair was swept back in a high braid, and her eyes were sharper, more lucid than anyone else in the dreamscape.
Helios stood, confused. "Kurai? What are you—how are you here?"
She stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.
Helios reeled. "What the hell!?"
"You need to wake up," she said flatly. "Your mind's trying to protect you, but it's killing you."
"I—I don't understand…"
She pointed toward the cityscape in the distance behind him. "Look again. Do you remember what happened there?"
He turned—and the blue flowers were gone. They were now within the heart of the city with cars destroyed and some flipped over.
The buildings were half destroyed.
Screams.
He staggered back.
"No… no, this isn't right—"
Kurai grabbed his arm and forced him to look. "This is real, Helios. The Darkside didn't just kill your parents—it destroyed their hearts and the city Nightfall. Your home. You've buried it deep to survive, but now your mind is trying to trap you in comfort."
The dream shimmered and fractured again.
The stars fell like shards of glass.
He remembered.
The towering shadows. The roars. His mother and father being destroyed by the creature's dark energy. Their hearts shattering as they protected him all while the hooded figure watched with golden eyes.
He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
Kurai knelt in front of him, her tone gentler now. "I'm not really here. Just a piece of your will. A part that refuses to surrender."
Helios looked at her, eyes wet. "Why does it hurt so much?"
"Because that love was real," she said. "And it's what you fight for. But if you stay here, if you let this world consume you—you'll never reach Kingdom Hearts. You'll never save anyone. Not them, yourself, or Alira."
The sky above shattered like a mirror, light bleeding into the cracks.
The dream was ending.
"I don't want to go…" he whispered.
"You don't have to," she replied. "But if you want to keep your promise to them then you do have to wake up."
Kurai stood and began to fade.
"Helios," she said one last time. "Get up. Don't let him break you. That's not the kind of man you promised your father you'd be."
And with that, the world crumbled—
—and pain returned like a spear to the chest.
Helios' eyes snapped open, consciousness returning like lightning striking a rod. The idyllic dream shattered instantly, replaced by a cruel reality.
Pain radiated from his shoulders, a sharp, burning agony that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. His body hung limply from the chains, every muscle screaming with fatigue. The stone walls of Hades' chamber surrounded him, dimly lit by the flickering glow of blue flame sconces. He tasted blood and ash on his tongue, his breath ragged and shallow.
He blinked hard, still feeling the ghostly touch of his mother's embrace, the warmth of his father's hand upon his shoulder. They were gone now, vanished back into the recesses of his fractured mind.
But Kurai's voice still echoed clearly:
'Get up. Don't let him break you. That's not the kind of man you promised your father you'd be.'
Helios forced his chin upward, looking at the chains binding his wrists. His arms were numb, his fingers barely responding to commands, but he strained anyway—trying to summon magic, strength, anything. The chains only rattled weakly.
The door creaked open loudly, metal grinding painfully in the silence. Helios tensed, bracing for what he knew would come.
"Rise and shine, sunshine!" Hades' sarcastic voice echoed in the stone chamber as the God of the Underworld strutted casually forward. His flaming hair crackled with energy, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Enjoy your nap?" Hades asked mockingly, leaning closer, his face inches from Helios'. "Hope your accommodations are to your liking. You know, I put a lot of thought into those chains. Since last you were here. I had my nephew make them. Not only do they drain all your strength but they use it to keep you alive no matter how much fun we have, so don't worry about breaking."
Helios met his eyes, glaring defiantly. "Go to hell."
Hades laughed loudly, theatrically. "Newsflash, kiddo—you're already here!"
His laughter ended abruptly, replaced with a sneer as his finger ignited again, glowing white-hot.
Helios stiffened, bracing himself as Hades pressed the fiery digit into his side, burning through skin and muscle. Helios screamed involuntarily, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Now that we're awake and energized, let's talk, huh?" Hades drawled, removing his finger slowly, the wound sizzling and cauterized. He leaned in closer, his breath cold despite the infernal flame. "Let's chat about your little secret rendezvous with Miss Second-Rate Sorceress—what exactly did you and Hecate discuss? And don't spare the details."
Helios bit down hard, fighting to keep silent, refusing to give the god satisfaction.
"Aw, come on now," Hades mocked, feigning disappointment. "Don't be shy. Friends share everything—secrets, laughs, screams of agony. You know, typical buddy stuff."
He pressed his blazing finger into Helios' chest, carving slowly through the skin. Helios' vision exploded in white sparks of pain, his scream catching in his throat, strangled and raw.
"Nothing? Really?" Hades feigned surprise, withdrawing his finger again. "Tough crowd, kid. But we've got time—lots of it, in fact. So let's try again with those toys I promised you."
He walked around Helios, circling him slowly. Each step echoed ominously. "See, I don't take betrayal lightly. And I've gotta tell ya, kiddo—finding out you double-dealt me with that amateur sorceress really hurt my feelings."
Helios gritted his teeth, forcing himself to speak, every word laced with pain. "You...have...feelings?"
Hades paused, leaning in close, his voice dangerously quiet. "Oh, absolutely. Mostly anger, disdain, amusement... Actually, never mind, point is—focus! You really don't want to make me angrier."
He ignited all his fingertips at once, raising them dramatically. "So. Spill it. What did Hecate promise you? Power? Glory? Revenge? A seat in the Underworld?"
Helios looked him straight in the eyes, mustering every ounce of remaining strength. "None of your... business."
Hades sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Stubborn. Really stubborn. I like that about you, kid. Makes breaking you all the more satisfying."
Without hesitation, Hades pressed his flaming hand against Helios' ribs. Pain exploded in white-hot agony, overwhelming Helios' senses. He arched involuntarily, chains rattling violently.
Through the agony, Kurai's words surged clearly again in his mind, sharp and cold:
'Don't let him break you.'
Focusing on that voice, Helios fought to steady his breathing, the dream of his parents still fresh, still precious. He refused to let Hades taint their memory. He wouldn't allow himself to be broken—not here, not by Hades, not ever.
After what felt like an eternity, Hades finally withdrew, leaving another raw, scorched wound and a strange mark. Helios sagged in his chains, gasping and trembling, barely conscious.
Hades stepped back, regarding his captive with twisted admiration. "You know, I've gotta hand it to you, Sparky—you've got heart. Too bad I'm gonna rip it out. See that mark on your chest, guess what it does, not extraordianary just amplifies pain by three times."
He turned toward the chamber door, strolling away casually. "Take five. Gotta get those toys. Next round's gonna be a real crowd-pleaser."
The heavy iron door slammed shut, leaving Helios alone again, bathed in agony.
Helios sagged against the cold stone, body shaking uncontrollably. His mind wavered between the sweet escape of unconsciousness and the biting clarity of pain.
Yet even now, the memory of his mother's embrace, his father's quiet strength, remained vivid. Warmth lingered deep in his chest, untainted by Hades' cruelty. It was fragile, fading, but Helios clung to it desperately.
He had already lost so much—his home, his parents, countless people he couldn't save. But he still had purpose, still had allies who believed in him.
He couldn't afford to break. Not now. Not ever.
Helios raised his head slowly, blinking tears from his eyes.
"Kurai…" he whispered, voice shaking but steady. "Thank you."
She was just a part of his mind, an echo of his resolve, but even in darkness, she had reminded him of his strength. He would survive. He had to.
Slowly, breathing deeply, Helios gathered his scattered thoughts and willed himself to hold on—to his memories, to his purpose, and to the fragile ember of hope burning stubbornly in his heart.
He would not be broken.