The gates of the Underworld loomed ahead—blackened iron wreathed in curling smoke, carved with screams.
But she didn't stop.
She walked with poise, with menace, with silence broken only by the soft scrape of her heels against the scorched stone.
And then—there he was.
Leaning casually against the gates like a smug sentinel, Hades watched her approach with that insufferable grin curling his lips. Blue flames danced in his hair, flickering in rhythm with her rising fury.
"Well, well, look who's walking away," he sneered. "Miss Icebox herself. I have to admit—I didn't expect you to abandon your little boyfriend after all that dramatic storming in. Even got that annoying little witch to heal to stave off the Underworld curse."
Kurai didn't slow. Her face was stone. "He's alive," she said coldly, each syllable sharp enough to cut bone.
Hades barked a laugh. "Barely! What's left of him wouldn't be enough to fill a teacup. Let me guess—you finally realized there's nothing worth saving? Took you long enough. You always did strike me as the emotionally constipated type. Love that about you by the way."
Kurai's eyes narrowed. Her Keyblade materialized in a shimmer of shadow and silver, the blade glinting with quiet threat as she raised it between them.
"Move or I will make you move."
"Oh-ho," Hades said, straightening with theatrical amusement. "Is that a threat? You think because you've got Hecate's little curse-deflector you can take me on now? Honey, I've swallowed worse threats than you and spit them into Tartarus. Even without the curse I've still got the home-field advantage."
"Then let's find out," Kurai said. Her voice was ice incarnate, her stare unflinching as her eyes glowed pure white. "I have no interest in word games. Either step aside, or bleed where you stand."
Hades whistled, mock-impressed. "Feisty. I love it. You know, I was really starting to worry you were just a pretty shadow with a superiority complex. But this—this look suits you. I'm iching to see what you can do, but…"
He took a deliberate step forward.
Kurai didn't back down. The blade remained raised, unwavering.
Hades glanced down at it, then met her eyes again, his smirk twisted into something darker. "But let's be honest here. You walked away. Left him hanging—literally. You could've tried. You could've died trying. But you didn't. You chose to leave him there and didn't try to put him out of his misery. So I'm gonna let you leave."
"I know you heard what we talked about," Kurai shot back. Her tone didn't rise—but it darkened, turned acidic. "Unlike you, I don't hide in the walls. I'll find someone to heal him and come save him."
Hades' smile faltered for a half-second. Just long enough for her to notice.
Then he chuckled, low and slow. "Oh, that's rich. You? Value him? That twitching, burned-up pile of meat on my wall? Don't insult me. I can see it in your eyes. Why pretend to be like those slobs up there."
"I'm not here to impress you," Kurai said coldly. "I'm here to remind you. Every second of agony you inflicted—every touch, every chain, every scream—you owe. And I will collect. Pain for pain. Scar for scar."
"You gonna cry?" Hades mocked. "Want me to send you a souvenir? Maybe his left hand? Oops—too late for that one."
Kurai's blade flinched—just barely—but it was enough.
Hades' grin returned like a flame reignited. "Oh, that hit a nerve. Good. I want him to know exactly who abandoned him. I'll whisper it into his ear every time I carve another line into his skin. 'She left you.' That's what I'll say. 'She walked away.' And you know what the best part is?"
Kurai said nothing.
Hades leaned in, close enough for his cold breath to touch the edge of her cheek. "He'll believe me. After I'm through he'll believe every single word I say."
The Keyblade snapped upward, stopping just shy of his throat.
"I'll return for him," she said, voice like black ice, emotionless and absolute. "And when I do, you won't have time to scream."
Hades reached up with one long finger and tapped the blade aside like it was nothing but an inconvenience. "Promises, promises. But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll keep him nice and warm for you. I'll make sure he knows—every lash he takes from now on? It's because of you and trust me there will be plenty of them."
He turned, brushing past her shoulder with a smirk so venomous it could curdle steel.
"I'll make it hurt just enough to remember. Not enough to kill. I want him aware. Because that pain? That despair?" He looked back over his shoulder. "That's your gift to him and my gift to you."
And with that, he vanished in a puff of smoke behind the gates, humming to himself, triumphant.
Kurai stood still, the blade humming softly in her grip.
She didn't shake.
She didn't flinch.
But the look in her eyes burned even colder than before.
And when she turned and stepped into the living world once more.
When she emerged, the sky above was not the one she remembered. Kurai wasted no time and teleported to where she last spoke to Sephiroth and raced up the mountain.
Smoke veiled the heavens in a sickly crimson haze, and thunder rolled across the sky like it would rain. The scent of ozone and scorched marble filled the air.
And then she saw it—
Sephiroth, a blur of silver hair and sweeping blade, surrounded on all sides.
Five towering Darksides—Heartless titans with hollow yellow eyes and monstrous fists—loomed around him like gods of ruin. Behind them, the once-majestic statue of Zeus lay in jagged, broken pieces, its stone head cleaved in half, its thunderbolt shattered.
Kurai's eyes narrowed.