He walked to the edge of the deck, each step slow, but it carried authority. Shadows licked at the boards under his boots, drawn tight to his heels like they could sense the name in his mouth.
"Iapetus," he called, his voice cutting through the mist. "What is the meaning of this?"
No answer. Just the creak of wood and the steady pull of the whirlpool ahead.
His lip curled faintly, more habit than humor. "Coward. Hiding, like you always do." His eyes moved along the black water, searching for the smallest break in the surface. Nothing.
He leaned into the rail, palm flat on the slick wood. "I know why you built this place." His voice dropped, not soft but heavier. "You think if you keep moving fast enough, death won't catch up to you."
A beat passed. The mist swallowed it whole.
"How does someone who wants to rule Hades' realm fear death?"
He let the silence stretch until it started to bite. Fingers dug into the rail, wood groaning under them.
